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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year ago

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i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's

word count: 3794

request?: no

description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss

pairing: william afton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.

"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.

"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"

"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."

I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."

How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."

William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.

"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.

"I know."

My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.

He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"

I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.

Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"

"I ran into Afton," I responded.

His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"

"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."

"I warned you that he was here."

I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.

As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.

It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.

The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.

I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."

I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."

"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."

I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."

"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"

I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."

"But I'd do it to help you."

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."

Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.

Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.

It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.

"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."

I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "

"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."

"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."

"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."

I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."

"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."

I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."

William whistled in response. "That's tough."

I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."

Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.

"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."

I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.

"Thank you for helping me," I said.

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."

He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.

~~~~~~

William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.

It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!

But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.

During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.

One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.

I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.

"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.

When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Don't ask," I responded.

"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"

"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.

"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."

"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"

"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."

I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.

"(Y/N)!"

I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"

"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "

"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."

"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."

I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."

"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."

I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."

"Why can't we be adults about this?"

"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."

"What seems to be the problem here?"

I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.

"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."

William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.

"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."

I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"

"Like hell you will."

A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.

"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"

He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."

To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."

Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.

The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "

"Did he hurt you?"

I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.

"What?" I asked.

"Did he do anything to you just then?"

I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."

William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."

"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."

"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?

As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.

William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."

In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.

William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.

"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."

"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.

He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."

"Very much not a dealbreaker."

"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"

I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."

A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."

It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.

I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."

I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."

His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."

In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.

"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.

"I think I can agree to that."

I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."

He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.

#william afton #william afton imagine #william afton x reader #matthew lillard #matthew lillard imagine #matthew lillard x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 9 days ago

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a/n: there is quite literally no plot here 😭 just a lazy day with william and smut. not too much to say except i hope you guys enjoy!

word count: 3.1k

tw: dirty talk, masturbation (f), oral sex (m receiving), oral fixation, unprotected p in v sex, biting (brief and not sexual), pillow humping,

summary: a rainy off day means you and william have nothing better to do than fool around on the couch

Rain batters the windows of the apartment, a steady rhythm that’s serving as the perfect background noise to your lazy afternoon. You’re grateful for the miserable Toronto weather that’s giving you the perfect excuse to not go outside or be productive on William’s day off.

The dogs have been walked and are now sprawled across your bed, even though they know they’re not allowed up there, you’re too lazy and comfortable on the couch to get up and shoo them out. Eventually you’ll get up and kick the dogs to their own beds, but for now they’re getting their way. Spoiled little brats.

Your cheek is pillowed on William’s thigh, hard muscle and blond hair under the slippery fabric of his basketball shorts. One of his hands strokes lazily through your hair, twisting little pieces here and there, tugging gently and absently.

His other hand glides over your side, the dip of your waist, the curve of your hip, pats your ass gently, and repeats. It’s a soothing, repetitive motion that has your eyelids fluttering as you try and focus on the TV. The hand dips under the waistband of the sweats you’d stolen from William’s drawer, baggy and worn out in all the right places, finger toying with the thin strap of your thong. He snaps the elastic playfully against your skin and you huff a little noise, turning your face to nip at his thigh in warning.

“Trying to watch,” you mumble, even though you’re only half focused on the episode of Cobra Kai that’s playing. You’re catching up on the latest drop of episodes, William a faux-reluctant participant in your binge. He’d complained when you first started watching the cheesy show, but quickly got absorbed in the antics.

He chuckles and pulls his hand from its spot tangled in the elastic band of your thong. His fingers dance up over your side again until his arm comes to rest on your shoulder, forearm draped over your collarbones and one big hand curled around your breast. He plays with your nipple, thumbing at the tightening point through the fabric of your shirt. The sensation makes you shiver, distracting you and sending a warm flood of arousal to pool low in your belly.

William hums, still playing with your breast, kneading like a cat. It’s impossible to concentrate on the show, so you wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug his hand up so you can tuck it under your cheek.

“Hey,” he laughs under his breath, “I was playing with that.”

You angle your neck and look back at him, lips curving in a faint smile. “I’m trying to watch my show. Behave,” you murmur, William’s fingers wiggling against your face. You nudge at the palm of his hand with your nose and he laughs again.

“Of course, älskling,” he says, tugging at your hair and settling deeper back into the couch.

While you watch, William’s hand shifts under your cheek and you let the intrusive thoughts win for once, sinking your teeth into the fleshy part of his palm near his thumb. It’s not a deep bite, more than a nip though and William exhales sharply at the surprise.

“What was that?” He asks, looking down at you where your teeth are still clamped around his skin. He taps his thumb against your cheekbone and you release him, leaving a faint imprint of your teeth behind.

“I dunno,” you roll onto your back and look up at him. “I just wanted to bite you.”

William squishes your cheeks together, puckering your lips, and shakes his head at you. His eyes twinkle with mischief and you wonder what he’s going to do next. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the fabric of his shorts twitch and you try to hide your grin, knowing that he’s getting hard.

“We have to find something better for you to do with that mouth,” William murmurs, pressing his thumb against your lower lip. He presses a little harder and you let your mouth fall open, the pad of his thumb landing on your tongue. The corners of your lips quirk up at the corners and you close your mouth around his thumb, tracing the tip of your tongue over it like you would if it were his cock.

“There you go.”

William grins at you, the rest of his fingers curling around your cheek and stroking your skin. “Keep that mouth busy so you don’t bite me again,” he teases and you hum, eyes fluttering shut as he strokes at your hair. You let your teeth scrape over the pad of his thumb and William chuckles, low and deep in his throat.

It keeps you occupied for a few moments, but you’re getting wetter the longer you sit with his thumb pressing against your tongue and you rub your thighs together before letting one leg fall open to the side. Your hand slides up over your hip and under the waistband of your pants, fingertips finding your clit like a magnet and rubbing circles around it for relief. You sigh happily, mouth falling open just enough for William to withdraw his thumb.

“Getting all wet just from sucking on my thumb?” William murmurs, watching the way the fabric of your pants shifts as you work over your clit. “How wet will you be with my dick in your mouth, huh, älskling?”

His tease only serves to turn you on even more and you turn your head so you’re looking directly at the tent in his pants. You grin and let your tongue dart out to wet your lower lip. You and William both know that sucking his dick will lead to you making yourself come at least once on your own hand - it’s tried and true at this point.

“Why don’t we try it and see?” You reply softly, playing along. Reluctantly, you slip your hand from your clit and shuffle around, nearly falling off the couch in your attempt to get between William’s legs.

He laughs and catches you around the waist. “Real sexy, älskling,” he teases, drawing you to his chest so he can kiss you before helping you out of your sweats and on your knees. You settle between his legs, your shoulders touching the insides of his knees, and adjust your position so the heel of your foot is tucked against your clit. The position will end up being uncomfortable soon enough, your legs already starting to go numb, but it doesn’t really matter.

“Lift up so you can take these off,” you slide your hands over his thighs, enjoying the contrast of his leg hair against your palms. The fabric of the basketball shorts bunches and gathers, exposing inches of thigh as you move.

William grins at you and lifts up, thigh muscles tensing as they’re engaged. Your fingers curl around the fabric and tug, rushing to pull them down his legs. His cock, thick and hard, springs free and slaps against his stomach, standing proud and already beading precum at the tip. You lick your lips involuntarily and William wraps one hand around the base of his cock, squeezing.

“That desperate for my cock in your mouth, huh?” He teases you, stroking himself slowly. Your stomach flips and you watch his hand move, tendons flexing beneath his skin. “Actin’ like my own personal little slut.”

“Mhm,” you hum, looking up at him with wide eyes before you lean up on your knees and drape yourself over his lap to get closer to his cock. “Sit back and let me get my mouth on you.”

William opens his mouth to retort, but anything he’s about to say is choked off in a groan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suck gently, flattening your tongue over his slit.

“Shit!” He moans and his hands fly to your head, tangling in your hair. You grin around him and take another inch or two into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him and humming. “Älskling, fuck, feels so good.”

You let your hands wander over his shaft and balls, stroking and applying pressure, tracing the veins on his cock with light fingertips until William’s thighs are trembling. His hips buck and the head of his cock hits against the roof of your mouth. You groan around him and William curses loudly.

With one hand, you wrap the base of his cock in a steady pressure, sliding your hand up and down the few inches that aren’t in your mouth. The other hand drifts down between your legs, toying with your clit until your fingers are soaked with your own arousal. William’s cock is a thick, heavy weight on your tongue and he keeps his fingers twisted in your hair, holding your face in position.

He keeps up a mindless stream of chatter over your head, biting off curses every time you hollow your cheeks. Tears fill your waterline when he tugs just slightly too hard on your hair and you whine in the back of your throat, lifting up on your knees to swallow more of him down. You continue rubbing at your clit, nearly at the edge of your own orgasm just from sucking William’s dick.

“Gimme,” he mumbles, reaching blindly at your upper arm, “wanna taste you, älskling.”

Fuzzy-headed, you swallow, your throat working around the head of his cock and William curses again. He grabs at your arm and drags your hand away from your clit, holding your wrist so he can wrap his lips around your fingers, sucking your arousal from them.

You whine, lust shooting straight down your spine and making your clit throb painfully. William smirks down at you, his tongue warm on your fingers. He matches his movements to yours, sucking at your fingers when you suck at his dick and as much as you love when he uses that mouth for dirty talk, this is even hotter.

Bracing your free hand on his hip, you lean in even more, swallowing down all of William’s thick inches, your nose pressed against the coarse hair trailing down his stomach. He groans around your fingers sending a vibration straight down your arm and to your core. You’re dripping on the floor, a flood of arousal unstoppable.

William’s stomach muscles bunch and tense and you know he won’t last much longer, precome and saliva filling your mouth and leaking out around the plug of his cock. You hum a few more times, bobbing your head up and down until you feel him thicken on your tongue and he comes almost without warning, warm, thick ropes of come shooting down your throat. You swallow and swallow and come leaks out the corners of your mouth, but you don’t bother wiping it away and when he’s done, you pull off of his cock. A string of saliva connects your mouth to the head of his cock and you break it with your tongue, leaning in to kiss the sensitive, ruddy head softly.

He bites out a curse and his hips twitch up in your direction, making you grin.

“How was that?” You ask cheekily, resting your cheek against the inside of his knee and tracing your fingers lazily over his inner thigh and up over his hip. William’s softening cock twitches with interest and you stroke delicate fingers over his shaft and balls, playing with him.

Your boyfriend looks down at you with a drunken look in his eyes. His mouth curls in a contented smile. “You’ve got a fucking magical mouth, älskling,” he laughs hoarsely. “I love it when you get to work.”

The praise warms your stomach and you dance your fingers up into the trail of dark hair below his belly button, scratching your nails against his skin. The fabric of his shirt lifts with your movement and your mouth waters at the sight of slightly tanned skin and hair. His cock is fully soft again now, resting against his thigh and you want to keep playing with him, horny as ever. Your clit throbs, reminding you that you haven’t come yet, the steady stream of arousal from your cunt making a mess of the floor and your thighs.

William notices how you shift and his eyes twinkle. “Did you not come?” He asks, reaching down to cup your cheek in one big hand. His thumb toys at your lower lip and your tongue darts out to lick the pad. “Do you need a little help?”

You nod, giving him a wide-eyed, pleading look. You want his fingers in your cunt, knowing it’ll take too long for his cock to get hard again and you’ll be left suffering for too long.

His grin turns slightly mocking and you pout, knowing that William is absolutely not going to help you out. He leans to the side and grabs a throw pillow off the couch, tossing it to you while saying, “if you can get yourself off with the pillow in the time it takes that magical mouth to get me hard again, I’ll fuck you like you deserve, älskling.”

“Will,” you whine, pouting. He pinches your cheeks together, pursing your lips and leans down to kiss you.

“Those are the terms, take them or leave them,” he says, cradling your chin.

You frown at the pillow on your lap and huff an annoyed sigh, he knows he’s playing dirty and you’d do just about anything to come on his cock. You snatch the pillow up and shove it between your legs, immediately moaning when the rough fabric brushes against your swollen clit, “oh my god.”

Without really thinking about it and letting instinct take over, you rock your hips over the pillow, sighing when pleasure starts to build low in your stomach. William’s fingers are warm on your face and you look up at him, the intensity of his eye contact making you even wetter.

“Look good, älskling, riding that pillow like it’s my cock,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. His other hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly. “I’ll help you, but you need to get that mouth to work.”

You hum and dig your nails into William’s thigh, breath sawing in and out of your lungs on whimpers as you rock over the pillow. Each catch of fabric on your clit sends sparks dancing in your vision. “Wanna come,” you whine, leaning in and bracing yourself on his thighs. William’s hand falls away from his cock as you wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue in a haphazard rhythm. Your hips stutter and it takes you a minute to coordinate your mouth and your hips so you’re sucking him to hardness while giving yourself pleasure.

“Come on, baby,” William wraps your hair around his hand and makes a fist, pulling it back from your face so he can see the way his cock disappears into your mouth. “Touch yourself too, go ahead. Fuck, you look so good with my dick in your mouth.”

You whine around him and drop your hand to your clit, circling it with stiff fingers, gasping and choking on William’s cock as your orgasm builds.

He keeps talking over your head, but your energy is focused on breathing through your nose and trying to finish, his words blurring together into nonsense. His cock thickens on your tongue, heavy and hard, and you have to pull off him when you come, afraid you’ll bite down.

Your orgasm explodes in your body, gushing out onto the pillow and your thighs, your vision blurry and your chest heaving as you try to suck air into your lungs.

William’s hand is warm and heavy, cradling your head and he scratches his fingers lightly against your scalp. “Feel good, älskling?” He murmurs, laughing when you nod against his hand, head fuzzy and legs trembling. Your knees are starting to hurt and you shift, the pillow chafing against your sore clit. You whine and William laughs again, wrapping his hands around your biceps and tugging gently.

You go easily, your knees cracking slightly, until William has you straddling his lap and draped over his chest. He cups the back of your neck and tilts your head so he can kiss you sweetly. You hum into his mouth, hips moving absently over William’s lap. His cock is trapped between your bodies and you can feel it pulse.

“I feel like a limp noodle,” you reply, mouthing at William’s jaw. His hands slide under your shirt and splay over your back, holding you tight against his chest. “I’m never moving from this spot.”

You feel William’s laugh rumble through his chest as it reaches your ears and he rests his chin on top of your head. “Good, because I promised you the orgasm you deserve and I don’t plan on going back on my word,” he says, hands roaming lower on your ass and grabbing so he can lift you and notch his cock at your entrance.

A keen works it way out of your throat as William’s cock fills you inch by inch, his hands tight on your ass to lower you gently. You wriggle and gasp, overly sensitive. “Will…” you exhale his name on a breathy moan, his cock bottoming out and stealing the rest of the air from your lungs.

“Just relax, älskling,” William hums, pumping his hums up into yours. “I’ll do all the work.”

He hits a particularly deep spot inside of you and you wail, muffling the sound in his neck, clinging to him tightly as he fucks up into you.

Neither of you last particularly long and William makes sure you come first before he pumps you full, holding you down on his cock while he finishes with a shout of your name and his fingers digging tightly into your skin.

If you thought you felt like a limp noodle before, you’re even more wrung out now, your body buzzing from adrenaline while simultaneously exhausted. Even though you’re sticky and sweaty and you really need to get up and clean off, you burrow deeper into William’s neck and go limp against him. His heart is racing against yours and you wiggle your hips to get comfortable.

“Make sure I get up in five minutes so I don’t get a UTI,” you mumble around a yawn.

William’s body slumps back into the couch and he kneads absently at your ass, amusement in his voice when he replies, “yes, ma’am.”

#william nylander #william nylander x reader #william nylander x you #william nylander fic #nhl fic

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vyzz-undercover · 5 months ago

Text

pspspsps dinner time everyone

[cato/f!ambassador]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

(5,700ish words) (im cooked)

CONTENT WARNINGS:

•slight dubcon [again]

•hints of size kink

•intercourse [M/F]

•discussions of virginity

•vague breathplay

•even more negligible aftercare

•degrading language

•mild possessive behaviour

•tumblr's pisspoor formatting as per last time

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im once again doing a free magic show here and pulling a rabbit (this fic) out my ass. so, without further a-do the tagging... @kit-williams, @passionofthesith, @pluvio-tea, @the-raven-lady, @bispecsual, @egrets-not-regrets, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @lemon-russ. let me know if anyone else wanna be tagged if i do a part three HAHAHAHHAHA i might double down on the comedy-of-errors and have Guilliman get involved. Not like a three-way with this particular fic, even if I'd love to slut papa smurf out. There's always another time and another chance to sexualise an old man :3

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Cato finds you relatively easily.

Truthfully, you make no actual sport of it. But he's never going to pass up a cheap bit of entertainment at your expense.

At this time of the ship's cycle you're most likely to be in the east wing, pointedly the lower libraries. He knows this. He won't confess why or how he knows, though—so, fuck off.

You're lazy and predictable. To say nothing of the fact you're far too comfortable scuttling about his Father's vessel. If a hypothetical assassin ever could get onto the ship without being stomped into paste by him immediately, they'd have no problems tracking you down. You may as well be a sevitor running on rails for all your movements stay the same.

He notes you're not on the first level.

Nor the second.

You are on the third, in the leftmost quadrant.

In the restricted reading area.

You do have clearance—but the fact still irks him. Typically, this was for his more decorated brothers to catalogue Xenos. Typically, one needed to be accompanied to even access this level.

But oh, no—no, you're allowed.

You're allowed because you are a damnable leach of a woman. And also the bane of his existence, did he mention that? And you're—you're—tucked up in secure side-room, reading on a data-slate; half-asleep in a little blue robe and looking the pict of adorable sloth.

You don't notice him immediately.

Clearly too absorbed in your gerrymandering-for-servitors cheat-sheet.

And that annoys him even more.

Because, are you really that obtuse? So unassailable in your own mind that you're this blatantly fucking oblivious? He's an Astartes, damn it. Sure, he's in casual rest attire instead of clanking plate—but he's a large, two-and-a-bit meter tall trans-human war-machine standing in the doorway—and you haven't even noticed him. Ignorant like some little rodent chewing away at crumbs in it's hovel.

His Father's got a vermin problem on board, and the mice are stupid and bold and literate... along with rather cozy, apparently.

A finely woven navy throw is swaddled around you where you're lying on the chaise lounge. And the sight of you bundled up inspires a vivid déjà-vu of the last time you were alone with him with little more than a blanket over you.

Cato hesitates for a heartbeat, swallows down the sudden lump in his throat and sets his jaw.

He steps into the room and waves a hand over the laser-pad locking mechanism.

There's a fractional second in which you become cognisant to the sound of the shutter door closing and where you actively notice him.

Then there's a shrill scream as if you've pinched a nerve.

The data-slate goes flying, pelted at his head. But it hits the shutter door and clatters to the floor, far-off any hint of a good mark.

Useless woman.

Realising it's him a moment later, you heave out a racketing sigh.

"Throne of Terra, Ca—" you start, and it sounds like you're going to say his first name before you rightly correct yourself and say, "C-Commander, you scared me half to death."

He immediately sets about accosting you, "Have you been sitting here with the door open this whole time?"

"No," you nip out.

"You are aware that I can tell when you're lying?"

"I'm certain you can," your tone flattens in a way he's only ever heard you talk to particularly sleazy representatives with. It's not an honest exchange, it's double-speak. It's mocking. You're mocking him.

He grits his teeth.

You've grown more open in your defiance towards him as of late, certainly not because of any revelation or reason and it rubs him in a dangerous, new way. He's not about to let it slide, either.

"Is that so?" His words are sharp and accusative and he hopes—he hopes he'll get the delight of watching you cower like you usually do when confronted by him. "Have you been lying to me often, then?"

Half his hopes come true. You look away nervously and mumble something almost inaudibly, and he'd not have noticed if not for his far superior hearing.

It was, "...maybe," and all Cato can help but do being himself, is detonate.

"And what have you been deceiving me of, you scheming little whore?" He snarls, fuming—a dozen crimes and sins crowding his mind you might be tried for. Maybe he's been far too lenient to the actual reality of your evil. Finally, validation to corroborate his deviation—maybe you'll admit you're some Slanneshi fleshchanger, and that you intended to have burrowed so deep in his mind.

Nonetheless, you're nowhere near even close to fast enough to defend yourself. But it's not like he gives you the chance.

He's crossed the distance with a practiced speed. And quicker than you can even yelp, you are pinned to the lounge—a shackle in the form of his fist around your smaller throat.

The pressure is a limp handshake by his standards. You're not really choking. Just stifled slightly for good measure.

Still, it'd be a mere flex to break your neck. He could snap you like a stylus with what was to him, ultimately, nothing but a simple twitch of his fingers. And he would think more about the blatant contrasts between you both much longer if he wasn't far too distracted by the fact you even struggle prettily wantonly. Big eyes wide and glossy with animal panic. Involuntary tears gather at the corners as you register what's going on at last. The mad temptation to lick them if they so much as dare trail down your cheeks begins eating at him.

Some rational part of his rational mind reminds him he can't get the truth out of you when he's vaguely throttling you, though—and he lets you go begrudgingly. Instead opting for looming over you as you roll sidelong on the couch, breathing fast.

He crouches down to your level and grumbles, still absorbed in his raging.

"Speak," he barks, and pointedly grabs you by the chin.

"I–I hadn't actually—" you start, breathless as you mumble. "Actually, uh, laid with anyone, even though I nodded I sort of... had."

He's staggered at the statement, "...that's it?"

A vague lie of omission, but it's not the great corruption he sought to root out.

Then he actually thinks about what you've just admitted.

Like fog banished under a rising sun, his anger at the thought of treachery immediately dissipates into blistering revelation.

"Hold on, you..." Cato starts, baffled and completely knocked for a six, meeting your gaze slowly—genuinely stunned as he pulls his hand back fully. "I... I was the first?"

You look away cursorily, face reddening not only with your previous strains, but with embarrassment.

Now, that was the reaction of a guilty conscience.

Cato doesn't know what to do with the information. Nor does he really know what he feels.

He'd been the first. He feels like he's won something over his brothers. Therefore, fuck the lot of them—and fuck Titus, specifically. Even if he's not sure why. He truly couldn't believe it. There's success, sure—but then there's taking the laurels: whole and absolute. And this... this is exactly that. But oh, for some apparently vestal thing, you'd let him bully down to the hilt in your tight cunt; whining like a whore when he spilled himself inside you. Throne, it was almost suffocating to think back on it now. So willing to have your maidenhead taken, nevermind the fact you weren't the only one who'd had a new experience that day. But you didn't need to know that.

"Another notch to my mantel of victories then," he ultimately decides is the best thing to say, gloating to himself.

"Unbelievable," you sigh softly as you shakily sit yourself up.

But there's the problem again. The one tangible, constant problem with having laid you. It's made you mouthy. He only ever glimpsed your boldness when you interacted with other baselines in the past. You never sassed Astartes, or at least, he's never seen you do it. But now that stubbornness and unwillingness to back down in a political forum is on full display heedless of situation. As if you've suddenly become one of the auto-felating Imperial Fists—or any of Dorn's insufferable ball-busting scions, really. Worst of all, it's only managed to somehow make him even more enthralled annoyed with you than usual. You're still too good at quashing your anger, hard as it is to rouse. But he loves loathes that you bite the lure instead of shying off now.

"To think that I was the first—is your entire professional role not centred around charm? Would no one else have you with that rotten attitude you've been hiding?" he says, knowing he's being nasty, knowing he's twisting the knife; and absolutely praying for you to fall for it.

Cato watches a rainbow of emotions pass over your features, before you settle on one that makes you look like you ate something sour. He's hit a weak spot. But the sentiment holds true. His Primarch thinks you the best and brightest to sway planets? You couldn't even seduce some daft, drunken aristocratic fool to fuck you.

You, the prettiest baseline he's ever seen.

...maybe Guilliman is right in saying the Imperium has rolled belly-up with bloat.

"That's not—that's not why and you know it," you open your mouth and jumble your words briefly before getting out, "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone who won't have a panic attack because of the several Astartes that insist on following you around?" You continue, raving and flustered, "Do you think anyone would get near me with you—or—or... maybe Captain Acheran, or the good Chaplain, let's say, breathing over my shoulder?"

"You should be grateful any of us waste our time babysitting you," Cato oafishly shoots back like a petulant child, brows furrowing, "You should be thanking me for doing the brunt of it."

Your nose scrunches up, "Pardon me, Commander, it's surely entirely my fault that we are both at the whims of our Lord Primarch."

He pauses.

Something about this interaction isn't stirring his temper like it should.

He should be absolutely livid with anger, or at the very least blowing your eardrums out with a 'shut the fuck up,' at full Astartesian line-command volume.

Yes, he should be seething, and yet he's not. To his surprise, he's actually feeling more enthused than anything.

This feels... exciting, almost.

"You've only grown the backbone to talk back to me because I fucked one into you," he remarks sharply in reply.

You sputter, and go red, robbed of your words.

"Or maybe this is mere performance," He adds with a sneer, tipping his chin up proudly.

You roll your eyes and let out a dramatic puff of air, "Y-You're such a..." you start, but your voice tapers off—and you look away, pouting.

"I'm a... what?" He taunts, leaning close.

You grumble, apparently feeling brave again; meeting his gaze and puffing yourself up.

"You're a bully," you hiss, clearly upset but undeniably frazzled enough to be somewhat ranting again as you add, "A bully w-who's so disgustingly egotistical you've convinced yourself you're some great conqueror or... something... j-just for having been in me, as if I've never put anything in myself before."

Oh, but wait, Cato likes the idea of that. He likes it so much he completely forgets to acknowledge the insults in your statement prior. He likes the idea of you suffering like he had been—alone, yearning—aching for something you didn't know the dizzying reality of. He can imagine you smothering your sounds, those blessed whines he's got memorised, into a pillow in that cushy little quarters of yours, squirming on your meagre fingers, or maybe cold silicon. You didn't need that lesser imitation now. Cato'd gladly fill that role. He'd gladly fill that hole, too.

Nonetheless, he immediately wonders who you were getting off thinking about.

He'd streak the length of the ship for it to've been him you'd been fucking yourself over.

"Who were you thinking of?"

You blink at the completely offhanded question, then start sputtering, stalling.

"What? I-I—" you stammer, "That's not important or relevant—I just... did it, it's—"

"Keep lying and see where it gets you," He cuts in, raking you with an aggravated frown, and oh, excellent, you're starting to relearn he's not fond of your half-truthing, finally.

You duck your head a little, cringing under his gaze, trying to scoot yourself backwards. But there's nowhere to go.

Cato realises belatedly that in the middle of your antics, the sleeve of your robe has started to fall from your shoulder. His brain short-circuits momentarily with the sheer amount of air that floods his head. Your warm, soft skin on display just for him. He didn't get to see all of you last time. He felt a good portion of you, yes—but he didn't get the chance to admire acknowledge the whole vista. Not because he was too desperate to rut against to try. Or because he was probably going to swoon like a fool if he did. Shut up, he's no coward. Afterall, his hands had been close to your chest, but now—now he can actually look.

He's going to absolutely ruin that lovely canvas you've given him.

"Nobody," you say softly.

"Groxshit," he snaps.

"Fine—" You swallow and start scrambling for a response, "Malum C-Caedo."

Cato genuinely cannot help but bark a laugh at that, "Spare me, you haven't even met the man, moron—you're only saying that because your most recent reading was on his last briefing," he rolls his eyes. "You forgot I was there with Guilliman when you were given it."

You look at him like a cornered little mouse, and finally—finally, your sleeve falls just enough that he's given a perfect view of one of your tits.

"You already..." you grumble softly. "You already know who, then, so I shouldn't even have to dignify this."

"It's me, isn't it?" He asks darkly, and while he tries to sound haughty, the fact he's thrilled by both the notion and the sight of your partial nudity ends up warping his tone into a vaguely manic chuff.

You glance aside and stammer loudly, "N-No."

No, you say—but he hears your little heart flutter. And sees your pupils dilate.

"I hope you're aware you can't lie to save your life," Cato drawls.

Your gaze snaps back to his, and for a brief second, your expression is flushed with embarrassment; until it changes to a sour little scowl.

"I'm not a bad liar, you're just an Astartes—" you start furiously, but check your flustered anger.

Cato smirks.

It's not a completely clean victory, but it's good.

It means his own lusting madness is at least reciprocally vindicated.

And at that realisation, Cato's impulse control violently loses balance; and he's painfully aware he cannot, for the life of him, contain the hungered almost purr-like sound that crawls up his throat.

You go back to looking transfixed at that, and he pauses.

There's something... pulling him in even more than before. He feels as if he's taken the bait, and the hook, and the line and sinker—hell, he's taken a good bit of the rod, too. Everything's a little too heated, and he's got an innate, intuitive feeling you're just as wound up as he is—wait. He breathes in deep and slow, and scents the air. Throne, he may as well have been cold-clocked at the temple by a Dreadnaut for all the innate information he suddenly receives. You're quite frankly drenched in want. You're getting off on this. Smothering him in a dizzying biological chant of hormones that scream—fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

He leans close, and puts a hand on the arm-rest; the other palm slowly moving towards your chest.

Your eyes follow it—but you voice no complaints nor rejections.

Justified now, he's ecstatic. And your skin is as perfect to the touch as he remembers.

His hand looks huge compared to the breast cupped in it, idly toying with the consistency of the flesh in his grasp. It's much softer and malleable than he thought it'd be. Almost like a water-skin. Thumb depressing your right nipple, before drawing a thoughtless circle.

You sigh lightly and relax a bit, and Cato takes that as another open invitation.

He uses the same hand to tug away the fabric from your other shoulder.

Quick as anything, he's practically stuffing his face against you without any real warning, ignoring your flinch at his haste. Cato's letting the urges he'd withheld in that wretched shack out. And it's so worth the wait. He groans, licks a fat band over your left breast, and worries at the perked little bud with his teeth until you're squirming; only to drag his attention up to nip at your fragile throat.

You're breathing hard, and you open your mouth as if about to speak—but ever spiteful, Cato rewards your attempt with the drag of his tongue and the press of his teeth; and that promptly shuts you up. The faint salt on your skin isn't half bad of a thing either, honestly. He rather likes it. It tastes like how you smell—and he's absolutely luxuriating in it. It makes it all the easier to map your chest from the curve of your breast to your collarbones, garnishing you with eager drags of his tongue and mouth-wrought bruises.

And now you're glorious. The marks on your skin are vivid—he's guaranteed you won't be wearing anything showy for a good while. No lovely vile plunging necklines for you to display to bastard dignitaries. Not unless you want to explain why they're Cato Sicarius sized. They'll also be a good reminder to you of exactly who's superior.

You're still too dazed by his efforts to realise the extent of his actions, but he knows exactly how hot and bothered it's made you. That honeyed reek of arousal is driving him insane.

Urged on, he digs a hand down and around your back and drags you off the lounge. Manoeuvring to turn so his back rests against the lip of the lounge, nigh dumping you before him on the rug.

"W-Why...?" You blink, stunned for a second before righting yourself and meeting his eyes. Cato's sat himself cross-legged, before letting them unfold, one tenting and the other splaying out.

"I did all the work last time," he starts impatiently, and leans up to grab you by the forearm; bringing your hand close close to the cradle of his hips, "Now it's your turn to do something for once."

...Cato's not sure you're actually listening, because he could've bet his helm you'd've become irate at that statement if you were. That, and you're glaring between his thighs.

Ironically, he also almost instantaneously finds he doesn't really care to continue the train of thought. Not when you trace the engorged bulge of him through the folds of his tunic. Groping at the base, before smoothing your palm to the rounded tip.

There's no accursed buttons between him and the open this time, thankfully—and that means he can simply tug aside the folds of his layered tunic and bare himself from the belly down.

His cock lays fat and heavy with blood, smearing precum as it moves from his navel to leftward on his hip when he straightens up.

You're staring.

He scoffs at your apprehension and says, "Alternatively, perhaps you can—"

A soft, "Shhh," leaves you.

He snorts like a big, angry stock horse, brow raised. No baseline, regardless of rank, would dare treat Cato like this; none would dare even think to treat to him like this. Except you now, apparently. You forget your station, your place. Making demands of an Astartes is nowhere near your clearance. Your best option is to implore, not command. Yours is to nod your pretty thick head and smile your fair rotten little smile and obey your betters.

"Did—did you just shush me, woman?" Cato's nigh instantly consumed by a rush of anger at the sheer audacity, sneering. "In what reality do you think you've any right to shush me? I'm Commander of the Victrix Honor Guard, Grand Duke of Talassar and High Suzerain of—"

Of... of something.

Suddenly your insolence is inconsequential to him. All that matters is the smooth glide of your dainty hand on his cock, and the sight of your thumb and pointer being unable to wrap around and meet given how thick he is.

You look up at him slowly for a second, before your focus returns to apparently sussing out how best to saddle him. It's a timid gesture, like you're anticipating overstepping—you're cautious.

He's about to remind you of the fact you've taken him before, so Cato's proven he fits and all this coyness of yours is arbitrary. But he guesses the point is moot when you're suddenly already stradling his hips.

With one small hand finding a place on his stomach, and the other holding his cock straight beneath the obscurity of your garbs, he feels you lower yourself enough to make contact; testing before offering a little more urgency.

With an agonisingly careful roll of your pelvis, the head of his cock catches against the soft ring of muscle at your entrance for a second.

He grumbles despite himself.

He can't watch his cock sink into you like last time thanks to the curtain of your robe, but at least he can certainly feel every millimeter of it happening.

Tight heat feels like a death shroud over his mind as he draws a blank on anything else.

And finally—finally he's stuffed down to the hilt—and oh, he's filled you to your end just like the last time. Throne, he's drunk off the spongy heat the thick head of cock is squared right up against.

This position's made your cunt just that bit shorter inside thanks to gravity.

You whimper, clearly trying desperately not to start shaking.

You start shaking anyways.

He's fascinated by the small, restless palms now pressed flat and trying to find a counterpoint on his broad, tunic'd chest. Soft and un-calloused aside from the small bump of a pen's rest on your writing hand. Everything about you is warm and soft. Inside and out, you're all his.

He exhales harshly through his nose and blinks, gaze shifting from your hands to your tits, then to your face.

You wear an even more flushed expression now, overwhelmed, with all your focus on him.

Right where it always should be.

"Hurry up," he grunts sharply.

You swallow hard, and promptly drop your gaze.

You, surprisingly, manage to lift yourself up despite your theatrics. And, little by little, he watches you strain up until just the tip of him is still buried in you.

Angling yourself, you keen, carefully sinking back down on his cock and reeling at the stretch again as you settle, ass meeting his dense quads with a soft plomf.

He can see you biting back a moan, pointless as the act is.

"Keep going," Cato grits out, "I didn't tell you to stop."

You frown halfheartedly, and your insides clench around him despite yourself.

You start a slow rhythm, the noise of colliding skin on skin echoes in his ears. Slick friction, and fucked-out, half-stifled cries. Your pace quickening. Riding him. Using him at your own leisure, like the precious wretched little thing you are. You repeat the same dizzying motion again and again, and again—rising and sinking—up, down, up, down; until it's clear you've found an angle that hits something just right, sending you over the edge with a rattling gasp.

A low groan crawls up the back of Cato's throat and slips free without restraint.

He's barely able to cope through the tight squeeze of your orgasm around his cock; but he steels himself, winning the fight to not spill in you right then and there at that. No small thanks to the furious couple hours he'd spent earlier in the simulated night cycle furiously attending his urges.

His calloused mitt can hardly compete with the nigh painfully silken clench of you. And the view—Throne, to simply watch is a level of spectacle he can't even put into words. It's nothing short of hypnotic seeing your face soften with fucked-out delight—he can't believe he'd ever thought it was good the first time around when he hadn't even seen you meet your end.

You stop suddenly, seated to the hilt, trembling and oversensitive—grinding back and forth, nails digging into his pectorals through his tunic.

"Just... n-need t'catch my breath..." You whimper, and that debauched tone wreaks havoc through his mind. An unceasing urge to pound you to tears overtaking what little sense he has left. It's the ravenous fact that you, the little parchment-pushing temptress, are all tuckered out from cumming on him so quickly. He's preening at the fact he feels that good to you—oh, he's going to send you limping back to your quarters.

He wants to watch you break.

"You lazy little cunt, you can't do a thing right, can you?" Cato groans, your thighs twitching as he lifts you by the hips and makes you sink back down.

He gets the treat of seeing your eyes swim back in your skull, dumb with sensation.

Lulled by the reedy, oversexed moans slipping from you with each motion; and he can't help but start thrusting up, matching pace.

"Hardly even four and a half minutes—and you're a mess, absolutely useless." He heaves, dropping you to full-hilt for a second to manoeuvre you better. You're nigh but a gasping dead-weight, delirious.

If you're going to act the entitled bitch, he'll screw you into something alike submission. Which is exactly why he's then pulling out, shoving you against the lounge on your back; and moving your thighs to bracket his hips as he half kneels on the rug. Just to slide himself back inside, balls-deep in willing flesh. The only dignity he affords you then is the space to wrap your arms around and behind his shoulders. Which you rightly do without demand.

Hold on, was the unspoken order.

Then he's fucking you into the lounge like his life depends on it. He's glad to notice it's bolted down, but the damned thing creaks—nonetheless, he can barely even hear it over the perfect sounds you're making.

Rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, barely holding back the noises that choke his own gullet.

"You're so damn lucky you're a nice tight hole," he rasps harshly, "That's all you're good for, hm? For me to fill?"

There's a gutting sort of beauty in the way you're looking up at him with open desperation. He's trying so hard not to fall victim to the siren call of it, but it's perfect vile and he can't help but fold. He'd kill for that look to never leave your face when your eyes fell on him.

"Fuck, I must be in your womb at this rate—would you like that? My load in your womb?" Cato says between a great lungful of air, only to start huffing madly to himself when you nod drunkenly. "Good, because that's exactly where i-it's going."

Mind reeling with every resounding sticky slap of his balls against you, paired with scorching wet slide of him pumping in and out of you. You're crying, all your sensibilities lost in the thorough pace he's ploughing into you with; trying to pull him in by tugging at his shoulders, but with your meagre strength it's merely a vague suggestion.

Still, he leans into it, if only to finally seize the chance to lap the tears off your cheek, and you sob; trying to turn nose to nose with him. Your pathetic pawing at his broad back only exacerbates the overwhelming urgency in his blood.

He's so close.

Bliss crests up like a tide inside him, building and building, stunned with how it makes him buck into you. He's dazed in a way he surely wasn't designed to be resilient against. He can't even shut his damn mouth to stop moaning—and only technically manages to do so when you cover it with your own the very second he's about to finish; your legs squeezing impotently down on his hips, trembling through another climax.

His nerves light up like an orbital barrage, body rocking against the pretty, willing thing below him that you are. He has no idea what's going on beyond that. Are you kissing him? Is that what you're doing? Half his brain is stunned by the idea and the other half is flooded by the rushes of pleasure in his system making his tendons cramp, ravaging him with the sound of his hearts thudding in his ears.

Working himself right into agony; he's tensing against you as he empties himself as deep as he can. His pace finally breaks pattern and staccatos as his mind leadens.

Lulled by the molten satisfaction that swamps him soon thereafter, Cato blindly tries to chase forward and keep your lips on his. Emphasis on tries. He thinks he likes it, foreign as the sensation and sentiment is. He's got his tongue in your mouth, but no real clue what to do beyond lapping further in like a man dying of thirst—and then, of course, you decide to start weakly thrashing for air, blunt teeth grazing against the invading muscle—so, with a miffed groan; he pulls away, drooling as he slumps front-long against you and the lounge with a rumbling sigh, letting his eyes close as he basks in the afterglow.

You're panting still, nosing against the nape of his neck—likely having difficulty respiring under his weight—but despite that, you're still twitching around his spent cock, just like last time.

Wistfully, he wonders if he could sleep with you stuffed full of him like this. Slotted together and absolutely buried in your cunt; reaming you out as far as your small frame will allow. He enjoys the idea of that, and of holding you close.

He listens meditatively as your breathing steadily evens out, a soft in-out rhythm he can hear start in your chest only to feel warmly dancing across his collarbone a moment later.

Your small hand glides up the back of his trapezoid and combs through the short hair at his crown.

He shivers almost immediately at the act, thoughts clouding. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do, now. He can't really bring himself to do anything. He's locked in. It's like he's been sedated, or scruffed about the neck. Then your fingers trace the bare skin behind his ear, and he snaps from the trance enough to crack an eye open to glance down.

"Don't push your luck," he bites out automatically and leers away.

You immediately stiffen, and lurch yourself back—seemingly completely confused.

He's not exactly sure why he reacted that way either, but he's certainly not going to address it.

Ultimately, he opts to pull his cock out of you with scant decorum rather than linger on the topic. Then he settles into a kneel as he eyes the soaked-in stain below the bunched-up fabric of your robe.

"Well," he snorts.

And damn, it's difficult to hold a straight face at the overdramatic, painfully oblivious pout you shoot him.

So, Cato just continues watching you with a cruel sort of satisfaction as you sit yourself up shakily, and realise the mess.

You blanch, promptly shutting your legs and fussing—your ass is half stuck to the fabric of the lounge by your own slick and his spent when you move to stand on shaky, unsure legs.

He's aware of the fact you're after something to wipe away the aftermath. But he's far too content observing you struggle for the moment. Pleased, even. Especially when he's treated to the cringing gasp that slips from you when his semen no doubt starts dripping down your thighs.

You're panicking within seconds. He can hear your heartbeat quickening, plus the acrid tang of baseline stress hormones pervading the room.

There's nothing to spare. Unless you want to leave another smear across the lounge cushioning, but he doubts you'd go so low. He, however, has no such reservations—and yanks the plush velour padded square up to wipe his cock off. It's not as if he wasn't going to toss it down one of the incinerator shafts on the library's second floor anyways.

"Do—" you begin softly, but amend yourself, "Would y-you have anything... to..."

He stares at you, brows furrowed.

Floundering now, you waddle close and swallow harshly.

"To... wipe this up?" You finish, barely a whisper. He can tell you're sour at the fact you're stroking his ego and essentially too full of him to go anywhere.

Cato scoffs, holding up the seating cushion, "What? Too spoilt to use this?"

You cringe at him, "People have sat on that—hundreds of people, probably. I-I don't have your immunity to infection."

Cato cedes on that point at least, because he assumes being a baseline is hell. And so very not his problem, too.

Completely out of left field, comes the temptation to lick you clean. His mulish hind-brain reasons it's a brilliant idea, namely because you'd likely be squirming for him again. Even if he has no real idea of what to do beyond that. Lap at your clit, probably—he's not actually done any of this before except—well, except just slamming into you. He has the basic gist of all of this from biologis graphics and pornographic motionpicts. Yes, the latter are technically contraband on Ultramarine chapter vessels—Throne, he actually remembers when that was put into force. He was still green behind the ears when that'd happened. But those specific brothers had displayed it for abstract amusement, not... it's intended purpose—rather: 'Lo, look at this curiosity, brothers! See they're fornicating, how very so strange! Baselines am-i-right?'

Honestly, it's never actually anything heretical, except for maybe the terrible acting.

He'd deem that punishable by death.

Regardless, Cato's guessing the process of licking something can't really be some sage art form. Not like duelling, and fuck, he's stellar at that. He's stellar at almost everything, he reasons. So why not that? You're such a wanton little thing he'd probably make you finish on accident.

Yet he decides against it as soon as the logical part of his brain boots back up. Largely given the fact he's probably already going to have a hard time as it is trying to avoid others on his way to mask the stink of sex. His brothers have keen noses, it wouldn't be difficult for them to notice the smell of you on his way to his chamber if he's not careful. Let alone if it's smeared all over his face. Next time, however—

"Surely it's not that bad," he says off-handedly.

A surge of shame appears on your face as a red, blotchy belt across your cheeks, and you seem about to protest before he grumbles.

"Still, you really ought to find a solution," he remarks idly, and he notices the implication isn't lost on you.

You frown softly, and wrinkle your nose at him.

"Maybe some manners would help you achieve your goals," he adds, with a clearer spite.

Your frown grows nigh comically harsh.

Cato grunts wryly, satisfied at your annoyance and paws at the hem of his tunic—tearing a portion off and holding it out to you.

You grab the edge of it and tug, but he doesn't let go.

"And what do you say?"

"Thanks," you answer hastily.

He raises an eyebrow and pulls the torn fabric back towards himself ever so slightly, causing you to over extend closer to him.

His stare stays locked on yours, and he gets the treat of watching you dither and fluster under his focus momentarily before you amend, "T-Thank you..." you swallow, and break eye contact, adding; "Commander Sicarius."

"Was that so hard?" Cato scoffs, especially thrilled as he lets go of the scrap—eyeing you as you trot aside, and gingerly begin to wipe away the mess of satisfaction coating your thighs and rear.

When you're decidedly done, you stomp back over to him and hold out the soiled fabric.

He reaches for it, only to have it promptly pulled away.

Cato scowls, and takes a step forward into your space—only for you to inch forward into his.

You're tormenting him then, he decides; or rather he thinks. He's not sure. You don't look smug—you look... nervous? Your lips have drawn into a thin line and you keep glancing between his eyes and behind him randomly.

"What?" He huffs, narrowing his eyes.

"Lean down," you mumble, then quietly make the additional effort of throwing in a "...please."

Cato grumbles at the request but complies, and Throne, he's glad he does; because suddenly you're up on your tip-toes, your hand on his jaw—and your lips are on his cheek.

He blinks, dumb as a mule. It's over as fast as it started and he can't even begin to unpack the elation he's abruptly feeling.

Heedless of his dazzled state, you clear your throat with a bashful laugh—and then the rag is suddenly stuffed into his open hand. He's still frozen there as you practically rush out the room, scooping your previously flung data-slate up as you frantically wave the door mechanism open and vanish from view.

A long wheeze escapes his throat in the empty room, his face thudding with heat.

Oh, he's fucked fucked.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer fanfic #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #reader insert #ultramarines #cato sicarius x reader #cato sicarius #honestly its more like:#cato 'allergic to introspection' sicarius #writing

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ahsxual · 1 year ago

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Dark Sins III

Pairing: William Afton x Fem!Reader and Stu Macher x Fem!Reader

Summary: Stu has returned from his trip with his friends and now you have to pretend that you didn't spend that time while Stu was away with his father. How much longer can you keep this secret from your boyfriend?

Genre: Smut

Warnings: minors don't interact +18, cheating, guilt, soft & mean William, jealousy, possessive!William, spanking, fingering, oral sex (m receaving), cursing, age gap (reader is on her 20s), daddy kink, married William, love triangle, mentions of sex w/ both men (separately), p in v (no protection)

Word Count: 3,1k

Part I & Part II

While Stu spent the week away with his friends, you couldn't resist William's invitation when he suggested you to go to his house to sleep with him. His wife was also away for work, which made it easier for you to be alone and do whatever you wanted. Because of this, you had to lie to your parents so you could sneak into William's fancy car and visit places you'd never seen before.

You and William would fuck everywhere, whether it was in his car, in his bedroom, on the couch, in the kitchen, in the shower, in his office... whenever and wherever. At the end of the day, you would sleep against his bare chest, feeling his warmth and strong arms hugging and pulling you against him in a firm grip. His thin lips would gently kiss your neck before his tongue tasted your soft skin, your natural scent mixed with your perfume making his cock hard with lust. He would let his big hands explore every inch of your body at a slow pace, leaving your skin hot with goosebumps from his touches before grabbing your ass and tits hard in a possessive way.

"You are mine now." he would whisper into your ear in a low, raspy voice everytime you fucked or before you fell asleep against each other's naked bodies. You felt guilty to admit that the week Stu and his mother were away, allowing you to visit William at his work or be with him at home without fear being caught, was one of the best weeks of your life.

"What's in your pretty mind, sweetie?" William asked as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear in a tender gesture, listening to you carefully and curiously. You were both laying naked on his bed while studying each other's eyes, something that always made your heart melt. You and William enjoyed to stay like this after having sex since it's always pretty intense for both of you. Now, you're ready to enjoy your last sleep together, since Stu was returning home the next day. You absolutely loved how caring William was with you this past week, a side that was unknown to you... even though he was rough the first time he fucked you in his bathroom, which made you develop real feelings for him over time.

"I'm just... gonna miss you. Miss these special moments with you." your voice was weak and trembled a bit, a single warm tear falling from your eye. William cleaned your tear with his thumb and smiled, proud to see you craving him and missing him this much already, just like he planned from the beginning.

"Shh don't cry, bunny. You know you can always come to my office when you're feeling... needy for your daddy." he then kissed your neck with passion, licking and biting your weak spots that he already knew so well, making you run your hands through his hair and close your eyes to enjoy his addictive touch.

"I know, but... it won't be the same. Not when Stu comes back to me." William abruptly stopped trying to seduce you, looking you sternly in the eye when you mentioned his son's name. You just looked at him cautiously before gulping hard, as you suddenly felt your throat go dry from his threatening stare.

"You're still gonna date my son, huh? After everything we did together?" it felt like he was accusing you and making you feel bad for not ending your relationship with Stu, even though he was the one who started all this. You knew what you were doing was a horrible thing to do to your boyfriend, yet you couldn't just let him go. You still loved Stu dearly and you didn't want things to end without a good reason, since you would never tell him the truth. You realized William wanted to make you only his, hating the fact that you could be with another man other than him, and that made you wonder whether it was because he was developing feelings for you too or because he just wanted to own you... You just prayed the first option was the reality you were living in.

"Don't make me feel more guilty..." you frowned while you sat up, trying to shake off the guilt you felt and had tried to avoid for so long. William just looked at you with a furious expression, making you feel sick to your stomach. You hated seeing him mad... he had the ability to act like the sweetest man, before snapping and become the man you fear the most.

"Guilt... that's how you really feel about me. About us." he wasn't asking anymore, which scared you since he could snap any second now.

"Please William... you know I still love St-" before you could finish your sentence, he suddenly grabbed your neck with force, but not enough to make you gasp for air like the first time. You then realized he wanted to control you, not to hurt you badly. You could hear him breathing deeply, trying to control his anger so as not to scare you away.

"Don't you ever say that to my face again, you understand that?" he almost spat in your face with every word, his voice filled with anger. "Apologize to me. Now." he was growling at this point, demanding an honest apology from you. You felt his grip on your neck getting tighter, so you didn't want to upset him any further.

"I-I'm sorry, daddy! It won't happen again. I promise!" he slowly lost his grip on your neck, before a smirk returned to his face.

"That's my good girl..." he praised you before he pressed a long kiss on your forehead. "but now I have to teach you good manners and you have to be punished for what you said to me. You understand that, right bunny?" his voice was strangely calm, yet his intentions were nowhere near as undisturbed as his tone seemed to be. You simply nodded, not wanting to upset him again.

That night, William made sure you knew very well who you belonged to. He spanked you hard several times and demanded you to say that you were only his and you were sorry for what you had said, making you cry and forget about Stu by the immense pleasure he gave you that night... like any other night with him. After each harsh spank on your ass, he caressed softly your red ass cheeks with his big hands, admiring his work and marks on you. When he decided to end his punishment treatment, he fingered you hard while you were lying down on his lap. His other hand grabbed your hair harshly, making you feel overstimulated and cum twice in less than ten minutes. Once again, you felt like you were in heaven from feeling William's long fingers inside your drenched and needy cunt. You felt how hard he was against your thigh, before he made you suck and gag on his big cock while you were on your knees on the rigid floor, yet you didn't mind it at all. After a while, he came hard in your mouth as he moaned loudly, making you swallow every single drop of his bitter cum and make you thank him for it like a good girl.

You realized he wouldn't fuck you properly because you hurt his pride (maybe his heart too), when you admitted that you couldn't stop loving his son. He felt like he needed to work much harder to make you fall completely in love with him and no one else, and that's exactly what he was going to do.

"What do you say, now?" he asked with authority, his serious gaze fixed on you as he waited for the magic words he always made you say after allowing you to cum.

"Thank you for letting me cum, daddy. I was being a bad girl and deserved to be punished... I'll behave and be a good girl for you." you answered in a submissive way, the one he loved the most.

"Let's go to bed, sweetheart. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day." he smiled widely, yet his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. You nodded, before tucking yourself into his bed which you both had already gotten used to sharing. That night, he held you tighter than usual while his face was buried in your neck, not allowing you to move an inch away from him. You knew William was right: tomorrow will definitely be a long day.

The next day you woke up feeling an uncomfortable light in your eyes, the bright and warm sun already streaming in through the window. You rolled over and tried to reach for William like any other morning you'd spent with him, but he wasn't there. You just felt emptiness in the cold sheets and that made your heart break a little. Then you thought about last night and how you probably hurt his pride by admitting that you loved Stu even after all you did with him. It was one of his ways to punish you and make you miss him, since he perfectly knows how much you crave his presence in the mornings and need him to wake up by your side. You tiredly sat on the edge of William's bed and checked your phone, only to see a few messages from Stu.

"Hey babe! I hope my babygirl slept well. I'm coming home in an hour or so. Can't wait to see that pretty face again😘"

You smiled broadly at your boyfriend's sweet message, before realizing that he had sent that message 40 minutes ago. Your heart suddenly started pounding in your chest from fear, because that meant Stu would be home in 20 minutes and you were still naked in William's bed with your underwear and clothes all over his bedroom floor. You immediately got up and took the quickest shower of your life, before putting on your used clothes. You smelled them for a second and felt relieved that they still smelled great with your favorite perfume. Suddenly, you heard someone enter the house and instantly recognized Stu's voice greeting his father. William is downstairs... it's probably his day off and that asshole didn't tell me, you thought to yourself. You quickly looked around to make sure you had everything before running to Stu's bedroom, ready to "surprise him" since he had no idea you were in his house... and also, because you had no way of leaving without him seeing you. You quickly fixed your hair to look good when you heard Stu's door open.

"W-what the..." Stu frowned for a second, feeling confused, before a big smile appeared on his handsome face. "What the hell is the sexiest girl on the planet doing in my bed?! I love it when my wishes come true, man!" Stu said in a excited tone, before jumping on top of you to kiss you all over your face and neck, making you laugh joyfully. Oh, how you missed his unique energy and his contagious smile... For a second, you tried to forget about William and enjoy Stu's company as he deserved. Like the good old days. You knew this was wrong in so many ways, but you were already too buried in this mess and this sort of "love triangle". It can't be that bad if you give the same amount of love and attention to the two men you love, right? Absolutely not. It's still completely wrong.

"Babe, you're tickling me!" you giggled loudly, trying to push Stu away to get some air. Perhaps William's plan to make you upset and miss him when you woke alone that morning failed at this moment, since all your attention was on your official boyfriend right now.

"Can't help it, I just missed my girl way too much!" Stu admitted before kissing you passionately. You felt him getting hard against your thigh and as you knew William was downstairs and could hear you at any moment, you decided it was best to distract Stu from fucking you right then and there, before things could go wrong.

"I missed you too so much, love. How was your week?" your strategy seemed to work, since Stu was easily distracted by your question and began to recount some of the funny moments he'd had while he was away. Besides, you were genuinely curious to know how Stu had spent the week with his friends and whether he had enjoyed it. All you wanted was to see him happy, especially after the secret you've been hiding from him. He then told you all the funny and risky things he'd done, like any other teenage guy, making you laugh with him and have a fun time with your younger lover.

"By the way, how did you get into my house?" his curious question made your heart race, your throat suddenly becoming extremely dry and your head to feel dizzy.

"I uh... wanted to surprise you. Your... dad opened the door and let me in." you gave him the best smile you could manage, hoping he would believe you.

"Oh, right. It must have been awkward tho, knowing my dad he probably scared you a bit." Stu laughed his goofy laugh and you laughed awkwardly at his comment.

"Yeah..." you simply replied with a chuckle, swallowing the little amount of saliva you had left so that your throat wouldn't feel so dry.

"Speaking of him, how did the part-time thing you asked me about go? Did he get you a shitty job or one that pays you just enough to afford movie tickets every day? With popcorn and soda included, obviously." he asked curiously, while laughing at his joke.

"Yeah, about that... I wasn't really interested in any options he gave me, so I've given up on that idea for now." finally, you felt relieved for being honest for once and not having to think about a lie.

"Oh man, that's awesome! For a moment I thought you were gonna get a job and wouldn't have time for me." he grinned, before he enthusiastically slapped your slightly sore ass, a small reminder of last night with his father. His teasing made you laugh, as you kissed him once more to ease the feeling of how much you actually missed him.

"You know what? I could ask my dad if you could stay the night with me." your eyes widened at his suggestion, but you couldn't help feeling excited about spending more time with your boyfriend. The only problem was... you'd be surrounded by the two men who secretly desire you deeply.

"That would be great!" you smiled widely at your handsome boyfriend, as you watched him disappear from your sight to ask his father's permission.

Having lunch with those two men was a real challenge for you. You could feel the tension between all of you, noticing how William was grumpy towards you and his son. Stu didn't let his father's bad humor get to him, probably because he was so used to it. Your boyfriend was the only one making conversation while the three of you ate lunch and you noticed from time to time William's eyes burn into yours, making it difficult for you to even drink water properly. You were so glad that Stu was an energetic person and enjoyed to hold a conversation.

The rest of the evening, you spent your time watching horror movies with Stu while eating popcorn and candy. You were really enjoying that moment, missing the old routine you and Stu had when you both met and started dating. You knew how much Stu loved horror movies, so his happiness was your happiness. When the killing scene appeared on screen, you felt Stu's hands gripping firmly your thigh in desire. You looked at his pajama pants out of the corner of your eye and as you expected it, he was fully hard. You smiled to yourself and slowly ran your hands over his pajama bottoms, rubbing his cock in a firm grip, causing him to moan deseperately.

"Fuck babe, I haven't cum once this week. You have no idea how much I wanna destroy you right now..." Stu looked intensely at you as his breathing became heavy, his pupils dilated with lust so much that you could barely see his gorgeous blue color in his eyes. His words immediately triggered a reaction in your clit, already missing his dick inside you. In one swift movement, you sat on his lap and started making out with him, your tongues and lips fully covered in your saliva from the sloppy, yet passionate kiss you shared. You moaned loudly when you felt him pull your top up, revealing your tits as his lips sucked on your hard nipples while he forced you to rub against his erection.

"You missed my dick inside you, didn't you baby? Show me how much you missed me." his voice was incredibly sexy right now and you couldn't hold it anymore. You undressed yourself completely before helping Stu undress, leaving him with only his boxers and pajama pants around his ankles. Finally, you grabbed his long, erected dick and lined it up with your soaked pussy, ready to take him. When he penetrated you, you both moaned simultaneously and he barely gave you time to adjust to his size. He immediately started pounding into you from underneath, before helping you ride him while grabbing your hips tightly and pulling you up and down.

"That's my girl, always ready to take me so well. Fuck, I really missed this wet pussy..." he admitted before laying you down on the bed. Then he changed to a position called "mating press", making you see stars and moan loudly as his cock started pounding into you at a fast pace, one that only a man with Stu's stamina would be able to do.

"Fuck Stu, I'm gonna cum!!" you moaned like a porn star as his dick constantly touched your g-stop until you came hard.

"That's it, babygirl... you're so fucking hot when you cum for me." Stu came deep inside you right after, trying to catch his breath before cuddling with you until you felt ready for a second round.

There was no way William didn't hear you and Stu fucking like needy and horny teenagers... you're gonna be in so much trouble.

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sugarbcnes · 2 years ago

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— ꒰ ellie williams x f! reader ꒱ BRAINROT ! !

ellie williams fucking you dizzy until your attitude is gone + fluffy aftercare

warnings: heavy sexual descriptions, dom ellie sub reader, pet names, bratty reader, use of ‘cunt’ and ‘pussy’, jealous/possessive ellie, spanking, slightly vulnerable/insecure ellie

“ya’ never fuckin’ learn. huh, baby?”

you look like heaven.

complexion flushed and blissed, burning heat kisses the apples of your cheeks and the tip of your nose, soft breaths emitting from the perfect little pout of your swollen lips. pearly, sugared arousal glistens as it smears over your lush thighs and the tender lips of your cunt, leaking from your core. she knows some of those juices are mixed with hers, her own pussy creaming all over yours as she scissored you with a hungry, impatient pace. your gummy walls sucked up the pale pink strap so well as she fucked you until your eyes were crossing and your attitude was expelled from you in the form of drool pooling over your lips and saccharine, melodic moans filling the room. her devilish angel, she put you through hell and back until your brain fuzzed and every bratty bubble in your body popped !

you babbled incoherent apologies as she pressed your soft cheek into the pillow, her free hand holding your wrists together behind your back. “so sorry ellie.” “wontalktohimagain…”

“not fuckin’ good enough,” she spat, her tattooed hand coming down to make stinging contact with your behind. your mouth falls open as she once again assaults that spot of your supple skin until it’s raw and scorching hot. “that’s exactly what you said the last time i watched him put his hands on you.”

she was ruthless when she was jealous but it was because she loved you. her sweet little bunny. you were hers and nothing was about to take that away from her.

“was i too rough that time?”.

she reappears from the bathroom with a warm towelette, gently spreading your legs. you hum, her eyes frantically watching your expression in concern. you shake your head. she sighs in relief and whispers a quick “sorry,” as the warm material makes contact with the tender skin of your pussy. your hips jump slightly and she laces her fingers with yours as she finishes wiping you down.

her lips are quick to find yours, softly brushing the pad of her thumb over the tiny sweet beads glistening on your cheekbones. she knows it calms the rapid beating of your heart, filling you to the brim with fuzzy butterflies as her love pours until your full again.

“hey,” the whisper has you fluttering your eyes open, looking into her tired green orbs, “you know i love you right?”.

you nod, lacing your fingers into the shaggy locks of her mullet.

“i love you too, els,” you smile and you can see the disbelief in her eyes, “nothing or nobody is ever going to change that, okay, sweet girl?”

she lays beside you, head tucked under your chin as she gently massages the soft spots of your hips.

“i don’t know why i get so jealous, m’ sorry.”

“you’re human, el, it happens.”

the console slows down the beat of her heart and her pillowy, slighty chapped lips press fluttering kisses to the curve of your jaw before she hears the calm snores leaving your lips, lulling her to sleep with the peaceful melody of the singing wildlife outside the cracked-open window.

sorry, this one kinda sucked :( and i know i promised a full fic last night but i had a really rough day yesterday and i got tired and forgot :( i promise it’ll be up tonight.

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koiiiji · 6 months ago

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author's note ; i already so in love with him

tw; nsfw straight under the line, MDNI, pwp, blowjob, gentle m!dom, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK U!!

a huge hand caressed your cheek while you sat between William's legs. his cock was sticking out under your cheek, and your tear-stained eyes looked up at him. William's thumb slowly traced the outline of your lips, carefully smearing the mix of his precum and your saliva across your cheeks. he looked down at you with such a clouded, loving gaze that in the darkness of the room it seemed as if his eyes were slightly glowing with those little hearts deep in the pupils.

"such a good girl, trying so hard to take me completely," William purred, smiling warmly at you and tucking your stray strand of hair behind your ear. his hand gently slid to the back of your head, and lightly pressed on, forcing you to swallow his whole cock again.

William never was rough or harsh to you, it was just that his size was so big that it made you gag every time and drool more on his cock, while your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and he slowly guided you, at a leisurely pace, emitting low, almost growling moans. his large palm gathered the shock of hair on your head, and slowly pulled you onto his length, giving you time to get used to it and cover him completely with saliva. "yeah, that's it baby, you doing such a g..great job" he threw his head back, moaning loudly at the feeling of his dick buried deep in your throat, and your nose hit right in his pubis. William felt your hands roaming over his bare thighs, you moaning softly from the pressure in your throat, the squelching sounds filling the room and more drool dripping onto his heavy balls. god it was an unforgettable feeling.

he felt his cock twitch in your throat, making you gag even harder as your tongue brushed against a particularly sensitive vein, right at the base. William involuntarily gripped your hair tighter in his fist and thrust his hips forward, as if it wasn’t enough that you were pressing your nose right into his pubis and desperately trying to breathe through your nose. in his euphoria, William felt your soft pats on his thigh and loosened his grip on the back of your head a little, allowing you to release his dick from your mouth, only for him to groan again at the sight before him. you were sitting between his legs, one hand already hidden between your thighs, softly caressing the sensitive spot right through the fabric of your panties, your half-closed eyes burning with anticipation, and your face and his cock were still connected by thick threads of mix of his cum and your saliva. white liquid dripped from your chin, just as same drops rolled from the tip of his cock to the base, onto his heavy balls, and was ready to fall to the floor, but you leaned forward in time, licking the white stripe, gently swirling your tongue around one of his balls, while his dick fell on your face, staining your cheeks, eyes and forehead in your joint mess.

"sweetheart, you're just so perfect, i can't hold myself... please forgive me..."

with these words, William again ran his hands through your hair, slightly pulling you back, and impaling you on his length, this time faster, forcing you to swallow his cock all at once and right to the base. he felt how his tip was pounding your throat and how you were moaning pitifully with his cock in your mouth, the sound sent pleasant vibrations along the entire length. he didn't take his eyes off your lips and how each time the base of his cock disappeared into them, how more and more of a mix of your saliva, tears and his precum was formed there.

William usually didn't like to treat you so roughly, but now it seemed you did not mind as well, when your slender fingers caressed you harder, pushing the unnecessary fabric aside, and your clouded eyes rolled to the back of your head. from this sight, William moaned quietly again and with one last deep thrust, poured out into your throat, with hot, thick cum.

"gosh babe, i'm sorry!! i didn't mean to be so rough with you! i just -""baby, you're just amazing."

he was interrupted when you opened your mouth, demonstratively showing the aftermath of his orgasm, sticking your tongue out and teasing him again. all your actions were soft and slow from the euphoria still covering you, so you lazily closed your mouth and swallowed thickly, opening your mouth again and showing William only the remains of his cum that were dripping down your lips.

"baby, you're just amazing." he chuckled and picked you up, throwing you onto the bed, showering your neck and chest with kisses.

"will you let me make it up to you for being rude?"

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker headcanon #webtoon #headcanon #wind breaker #windbreaker manhwa #windbreaker manhwa x reader #william rogers #william rogeres x reader #windbreaker 510 #x reader smut #windbreaker smut #smut

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aquagirl1978 · 4 months ago

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M Y Q U E E N

william rex x reader | prompt: roleplay | tags: nsfw; minors - dni; roleplay; suitor is wearing a dress; cock worship; curse play; oral sex (suitor receiving); reader is afab; punishment/reward (if you squint); references to "between two villains" story event

“Will?”

You pushed open the ornate doors to the dressing room after knocking, still confused as to why you were there. When Victor came to you earlier and told you that William had returned from a mission and wanted to see you, you never imagined you would be meeting him here.

Curious, you had questioned Victor about the location, certain you heard him wrong. “No,” Victor replied confidently, “that’s precisely where Will said he wanted you to go.”

The plush carpeting muffled your steps as you entered the room. Racks of exquisite gowns that glittered like gemstones lined the walls, each one tempting you to try it on and play princess.

But not tonight, you had other plans.

Close to leaving, you were beginning to think this was some kind of silly prank Victor concocted until you heard someone humming a little tune. Titling your head, it sounded like it was coming from behind a large dressing screen tucked away in a corner of the room.

Unable to suppress the smile that spread on your lips, your heart raced as you hurried over towards the screen. Wanting to surprise your lover, you peeked around the edge of the screen, completely unprepared for what you would see.

Immediately enthralled by his beauty, your breath hitched the moment you laid eyes on him. He was seated in a chair, his eyes closed and his legs spread wide, a sheer veil hiding his face. A floral embroidered bodice stretched tight across his chest, long crushed red velvet draped across his legs.

“This is quite the elegant look,” you teased as you approached your lover.

“I’m glad you approve,” he replied, opening his eyes. He held his hand out to you, an invitation to come closer. Slipping your hand in his, he gently tugged on your arm until you were close enough for him to pull you onto his lap, at which time you eagerly removed the veil from his face.

“I recall a little robin once expressing a desire to see me dressed like this.”

You felt your face grow warm. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did.” He kissed the tip of your nose.

You sat quiet for a minute, the events of the day you dressed as the queen replayed in your head.

“That’s why you didn’t bring me,” you murmured. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, absentmindedly searching for signs of injury – bruises, cuts, scrapes, or anything else you could have possibly protected him from.

“You’re so adorable like this,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his palm.

“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring his comment.

William laughed; it was a sweet sound, and a comforting one. “I think you can see that I’m fine. Though I cannot say the same for the others involved…”

Leaning in, you kissed him, content to know he was fine. When you pulled away, Will let out a disappointed sigh.

“You left me without even telling me where you were going or what you were doing.” Shifting in his lap, you turned to gaze directly into his eyes. “What if something happened to you and I wasn't there…”

“But nothing happened.” When you continued to stare into his blood-red eyes, he tilted his head and smiled. “Then punish me.”

You stared at him in shock, your jaw opening but no words coming out. “Or you can reward me for granting your wish. Either way, I don't mind.”

When your mind went blank at the possibilities, and you couldn't pick one or the other, Will looked straight into your eyes and smiled a sinful smile. his voice lowered to a seductive purr as he spoke.

“On your knees.”

Your body sank to the ground, a force stronger than gravity pulling you. Settling between his legs, you lifted the layers of his skirt, pushing the fabric up his legs and past his thighs.

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze upon you as you looked up at him expectantly. Taking your hand in his, he raised it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across your knuckles. He then gently, so very gently, guided your hand under those last few inches of material that covered him, and placed your palm on the bulge between his legs. Your eyes still on his, slowly, you traced the outline in his length, enjoying the sweet, pleasurable sounds he made.

Words could never describe how much you loved his cock. How much you loved holding his cock in your hand. How much you loved sliding his cock inside your mouth.

You began to stroke his shaft, so softly at first it was almost torture for Will. Your thumb teased his tip – it was soft as velvet. A drop of pre-cum appeared; you could not wait to slide your tongue over it and lick that drop.

A certain thrill ran down your spine given your location; simply knowing anyone could enter at any moment added to your excitement. You continued to stroke his shaft, enjoying the weight of his balls cupped in your hand.

Anxious for your affection, Will brought his hand to your face, his long fingers tangling in your hair. You glanced at him adoringly one last time before he guided your head towards his lap. With a smile on your lips, you teased his tip once more, another large drop appearing. Your tongue darted out, licking it, enjoying its sweetness on your lips. Pumping his cock a few more times, you opened your mouth wide while sliding his length inside.

Dragging your lips up and down his hard shaft, he groaned as he pulled your head closer to his body. Flicking your eyes up to meet his, you loved seeing his face filled with such pleasure. Popping his cock out of your mouth, you wrapped your fingers around him as you placed a trail of kisses along his shaft. You then placed gentle kisses on his balls, taking each one into your mouth.

Wrapping your hair in his hands, he guided your mouth back to his throbbing cock. Sliding it into your mouth, you sucked on him until his length hit the back of your throat. He held your head there firmly as he began to thrust into your mouth roughly. Heat flooded your body as your mouth was filled with his cock.

Once he began to tremble, you kept your eyes on his, never wavering, as he spilled down your throat. Lapping up all his cum, you licked his cock clean as he moaned blissfully, his hand finally letting go of your hair.

“Hey, Will…” You looked up at your lover, his eyes closed while your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, your lips pink and puffy from sucking him off. He let out a strangled sound of acknowledgement, his eyelids still heavy as he gazed down at you. He ran his fingers through your hair, his long nails scratching your scalp, letting you know he was listening.

“I want more.”

Tagging: @natimiles @valkyyriia @candied-boys @queengiuliettafirstlady @william-rex

@ike-garden2024 @lucyw260

#kinktober 2024 #ikemen series #ikemen villains #ikevil #william rex #ikevil william #ikevil fanfic #ikemen fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

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something-tofightfor · 22 days ago

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A Wonderful, Awful Idea / 5

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 9,438

Summary: You and Pero have talked things through - and it's time to figure out what comes next for you.

For both of you, though, that means being open, honest ... and asking for exactly what you want.

Rating: M/E : This is a smutty one, friends. It's finally happening.

Author's Note:

The end is here, and I cannot thank you enough for the support and interest you've shown in this story. It definitely grew from what I first envisioned it to be, and I'm really happy with the outcome - I hope you are, too. It's always so intimidating to write for a new character, but to know that one of my favorite Pero writers - I'm looking at you, @oonajaeadira - has enjoyed this take on him means a TON.

The title comes from Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Thank you for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

You both sat on the couch while you ate, and Pero filled you in on exactly what had happened with the power at the party.

“Something in the kitchen overloaded the wiring.” He waved his hand in the air, fingers clutching the remnants of a sandwich. “And when they tried to reset that breaker, they tripped the whole building.” He laughed, shaking his head and swearing under his breath. “That’s how it all came back so quickly.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.” He nodded as he chewed. “Did they get pissed at you since you weren’t right there to protect Christina?”

“No.” He took another bite. “The assignment was never to be right beside her at all times. William and I were further away than her team, and I just happened to be near you.” You didn’t quite think that was the truth; Pero had to have searched for you in order to be that close, since you��d purposely moved almost all the way across the party space. “And I got to where they were as soon as I could to assess the situation. I did my job.”

“You protected me.” You took a bite of the food he’d gotten you, giving yourself a few seconds to think. “You were there to protect someone else, and you still … You were mad at me, Pero. I didn’t expect …”

“I did. And I would do it again. I told you that.” He sipped from his cup, lips wrapping around the straw. “Even upset, I was still worried about you.” Pero balled up the wrapper from his meal and then leaned back against the couch cushions. “I was actually going to pull you to the side at the party and apologize because I acted like an asshole. But you didn’t give me the chance.” He looked past you and his eyes widened. “It’s almost midnight.”

You looked, too, and with a smile you realized that as soon as the clock struck 12, you could be the first person to wish Pero a Merry Christmas. I wonder if he’s ever had anyone with him for a holiday like this before. “I’m sad we don’t have our hats from the meet and greet.” You looked back at him, grinning. “Santa Pero tucking me into bed on Christmas Eve would be -”

He groaned, covering his face with both hands as you laughed, reaching over to settle your hand between his shoulders. “You would like that, wouldn’t you.”

“I would.” Leaning in, you let your mouth hover just above his ear. “I would like that very much, Pero Tovar.” You weren’t used to having to take such a lead with men, but until Pero truly believed that your interest was genuine - and not short term - you had no issue with being a little more forward than usual to get results. Because I don’t think it’ll be this way forever. He just needs to get comfortable.

“I kept your toothbrush.” He looked over at you, a half smile on his lips. “I hoped you’d get to use it again.” Really? You both sat up and Pero pointed at the hallway. “I’m going to clean up out here, if you need to do anything to get ready for bed.” He stood, reaching out with one hand. “I have one request though.” Arching a brow, you waited for him to continue. “Wait… and let me help you out of those clothes.”

It took a little while for the two of you to do what you needed to do, but the whole time, your heart was racing.

You figured he was nervous, too, but you hoped that it was in a good way, Pero’s desire for you outweighing any lingering apprehension he felt about the situation. By the time you made your way into his bedroom, flipping the light switch on and taking a look around the space, you were determined to do whatever it took to put him at ease. It keeps me from getting into my own head, too.

There were a few photos on the walls - mostly of Pero, Lin and William, but there were a few more, too, that looked like they’d been taken on his phone and printed out. Some of them were scenery, some of them were cityscapes, and you made a mental note to ask him about them - and where they’d been taken. Later. Not tonight.

His room was cozy, and out of the other places in his home that you’d spent time in, it felt the most like him. It wasn’t just because it smelled like Pero - it also seemed to be the most lived in. “I like seeing you in here.” He appeared in the doorway, and then leaned against it. “It’s unexpected, but I like it.”

“Do you?” He nodded, eyeing you up and down. I like being in here. “Your bed looks comfortable.” You pointed, leaning back and against the dresser. “Is it?”

“You’ll find out soon.” Pero stepped forward, his motion smooth and slow, almost graceful. “Before anything happens, I …” He stopped in front of you, lifting one hand to tilt your chin up. “After what I told you earlier, I figured you might have some … concerns.” Oh. The paying for sex. I didn’t … “It’s been months since I’ve done that. I’m careful, and always use protection. And afterward…” He wet his lips. “I get tested regularly, since all of my relationships are short-lived. I haven’t been with anyone since the last time I got results, so …” He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, holding it up. “I can show you, but -”

“I trust you.” You put a hand at the center of his chest. “And I know you’re going to say that it’s stupid to trust someone with something like that, but I do.” Because trust is important. He looked confused and then the expression turned to acceptance, Pero’s gaze moving over your face. “Anything else?”

“No.” He paused, and then frowned. “Well, yes.” You smiled at that, giving him a chance to continue. “I might need …” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Just be patient with me, please?”

“Patient?” He nodded slowly. “Of course, Pero.” But what does that even mean? “Do you need anything else, or are we in here for the night?” He thought for a few seconds and then moved his head from side to side, eyes locked with yours.

“I only need you.” Inhaling sharply through your nose at the confession, you didn’t even think about it before you leaned in and kissed him, the tips of your fingers curling inward and against the material of his shirt. His hands settled in at your waist to hold you close, and when Pero returned the kiss, he did it with purpose, his full lips moving with yours like it wasn’t a new thing.

You felt his tongue probing along your lower one and parted them for him, hoping that Pero wouldn’t tease you the same way he had earlier. Seconds later, you got your wish when it slipped past your lips to meet yours, Pero’s fingers digging in and making you sigh. He stopped immediately, breaking the kiss and backing off enough that you saw the wide eyed expression on his face. This must be the patience thing.

“That was a good noise. Please don’t stop.” You moved your hand as you spoke, sliding it over so that you could begin to undo his buttons. “This shirt is a great color for you.” Breaking eye contact, you watched the motion of your fingers and listened to each of Pero’s sharp inhales as you moved downward. “I can’t wait to see it on the floor.”

He snorted at that and you were thankful for it, the sound confirming that he wasn’t getting too lost in his own head about what was happening. “I was thinking the same thing earlier tonight about what you are wearing.” He spoke quietly, pulling the bottom hem of your shirt free from where it was tucked in. “But I was also wondering what you have on beneath it.”

You reached the last button before his waist and then looked back up, biting your lip. “You’re about to find out.” His smile spread slowly, the expression one you weren’t used to seeing him wear. Pero tipped his head to the right and dropped a kiss at the corner of your mouth, hands sliding up and beneath your shirt so that his palms were flush with your skin.

It was your turn to gasp then, the warmth of his hands comforting. He continued to kiss his way across the lower half of your face, lips skating over your cheek and then toward your ear before dropping down to follow the line of your jaw. Your hands stayed busy, moving lower to the button on his pants and popping it free, which gave you a chance to pull his shirt loose, too, and finish undoing it.

He groaned when you touched his abdomen, pushing the sides of the shirt apart, and when Pero backed away, there was a wild look in his eyes.”I like this. The … slowness? You are taking your time, and… it is new.” Glancing over his shoulder so that you could see the clock on his nightstand, your eyebrows shot up. Perfect.

“I’m just enjoying opening my first present.” You wrinkled your nose. “Merry Christmas, by the way. According to your clock, it’s after midnight.” He turned to look, too, and then said your name when he faced you again.

“Sorry that I am not wearing a bow.” He wet his lips, the flash of his tongue distracting you. “To make this more festive.”

“You don’t need one.” Using one finger, you prodded at the chain around his neck. “This is shiny enough.” And. “And I think you should leave it on.” That took him by surprise, but Pero quickly agreed, the arch of one eyebrow telling you that he was intrigued by your request. “Help me out here.” You moved your hands to his shirt again, easing it back and over his shoulders. “Let go of me for a second.”

He did. It only took you moments to remove the silvery fabric, revealing that beneath it, he had on a black v-neck t shirt that was stretched over his chest and shoulders. Holy shit look at him. “What is that look for?”

“I… you…” Gesturing with one hand, you laughed nervously. “You’re still almost fully dressed, and …” You trailed off as he reached down and pulled the shirt up and over his head, giving you your first real glimpse of skin.

“There. Now I have solved your problems.” He grinned, scratching at the back of his neck with one hand.

“No, you’ve given me about a million more.” That made him laugh, and when Pero reached for your hand and squeezed it, leading you the few steps toward his bed, you followed. You eyed him as you walked, mapping the way his muscles looked as they moved beneath his skin and the way his unbuttoned pants sat at his waist, hugging his hips.

“I think,” he started, turning back to look at you and reaching for your shirt, his fingers working the buttons. “That I enjoy you looking at me this way almost as much as I enjoyed the way you spoke to Christina that first night.” He paused, palming the swell of your breast with one hand and then returned to his task. “Would you say the same thing to anyone else that talked about me like she did?”

“Would you want me to?” You were breathless as you spoke, the feeling of his touch and the heat of his gaze making it hard for you to concentrate. “Is that something that I can… oh God, Pero, please just…” You broke off mid-sentence as he finished and began to push your shirt over your shoulders, his hands sliding slowly up your body. “Keep touching me.”

The smile remained on his face as he removed your shirt, the material sliding down your arms and then onto the floor. Instead of putting his hands back on your torso he used them to cradle your face, tilting it so that when he leaned in, your mouth was perfectly lined up with his. “Yes.” He mumbled the words between kisses, one hand siding back to the nape of your neck and the other dropping to your shoulder. “I would want you to.”

You whimpered at that, wrapping your arms around Pero and stepping forward to press yourself against him. The feeling of his bare chest pressed to your body made you almost dizzy, and when your fingers dug into his back for balance, He grunted, pulling on the strap of your bra and dragging it over your shoulder.

As much as you wanted to slow things down and savor the first time you went to bed with Pero, you knew that as soon as he removed your bra, there’d be no going back. And that’s fine. It surprised you when he broke the kiss and spun you around, winding his arms around you from behind and then ducking his head to kiss your shoulder. Wait, what is he…

Pero rocked his hips forward, the hand on your stomach urging you backward while the other one slipped downward, the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. Tipping your head back so that you could lean it against his shoulder, you sighed, closing your eyes. He was hard beneath his own pants, the length of him pressed against you, and when you reached for the hand on your belly, guiding it upward, he let you.

He got the hint - Pero using that hand to paw at your chest, the contrast between his skin and your bra moving against your skin almost distracting you from the fact that his other hand kept moving lower and lower, pushing your pants with it. “Pero, I -” That was all you got out before he kissed you again, the angle not the most comfortable but still welcome, as was the way he bit down on your lower lip before sucking it between his. Fuck, I am lucky.

He pushed the lace of your bra - one of the ones you saved for special occasions - to the side and then swirled a thumb over that nipple, the motion making your back arch and pushing you into him again. Pero’s mouth moved from yours back down to your shoulder and stayed there, the scrape of his stubbled chin sharp in contrast to the way he touched you elsewhere. But I don’t want him behind me. “What is wrong?” He spoke quietly, turning his head inward and nuzzling against your jaw. “You are stiff.”

“I want…” You hummed, reaching down to stop the movement of the hand at your waist. “I want to look at you, Pero. I want to see you, not just feel you.” Turning to face him, you nodded at the sight of the confused expression he wore. “We only get this once.”

You hoped he understood what you meant - that after that night, you’d never get the chance to be together for the very first time again. And I want it to feel personal, not like … not like it’s just something that’s happening. “Whatever you want.” He smiled again, hands gliding down to squeeze your hips. “I cannot wait to see all of you.”

Taking that as a sign, you reached up and behind you, unhooking your bra and then shrugging out of it before letting it drop to the ground. He watched that, lips parted, and then looked back at you, his palms following the contours of your body as they rose. Yes. Finally. You arched your back again, encouraging him to keep going, and when Pero’s hands finally made it to your chest and he touched you, you moaned, closing your eyes.

As soon as he heard that, his touch went from light and exploratory to certain, pushing your breasts together as he leaned down and mouthed at your collarbone again. And when he moved lower, you urged him to continue with one hand in his hair, fingers tangled in his locks.

He took one nipple between his lips and sucked on it before releasing it only to follow that with a few quick flicks of his tongue before switching to the other side. You would have been content to stand there for hours, but Pero straightened up, his eyes blazing as he met your gaze again. “I think it’s time we get into that bed.” He cleared his throat, both hands still stroking over your skin. “Do you want me to turn the lights off?”

“No.” You answered immediately, flattening one hand against his chest. “Unless that makes you more comfortable.”

Your answer took him by surprise, but Pero wasted no time walking you backwards the few steps it took you to reach the bed. And when your shins made contact with the frame, he stopped you, both hands moving to the button - and zipper - of your pants, undoing them swiftly. He pushed them down so that you could step out of them, but left your underwear in place.

You were stunned that you didn’t feel self conscious standing in front of him in so little, because it hadn’t been that way with your previous partners. You sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Pero and watching as he put a hand on his hip and stared at you. A few seconds later, his smile widened and Pero reached for his waist, finishing with the zipper and easing his pants down.

He was wearing trunks, the waistband low on his hips, and the legs stretched tight around his upper thighs. “Wow, Pero.” You licked your lips, head shaking back and forth as you eyed him, lingering on his torso - and waist. “I had no idea you were hiding that under all those clothes.”

“I could say the same about you.” He reached down, adjusting the elastic over one hip without looking away from you. “Beautiful.” Heat rushed to your cheeks then, and you ducked your head but still heard Pero’s quiet chuckle. “You do not like compliments either, hmm?”

“I’m not used to them coming from you.” Cautiously, you looked back up and put your hands out, waiting for him to take them. “Want to get in here with me?” He nodded, taking a half step forward and standing between your legs. “C’mere, Pero.”

He leaned down, mouth finding yours again, and the series of events that followed happened almost before you could process it.

As you kissed, Pero put one knee on top of the mattress and balanced his weight on it, using the forward motion of his body to urge you onto your back. He let go of your hands, sliding one of his beneath your head while he flattened the other palm on the bed, allowing him to hover over you. You moved your hands over his back, exploring the expanse of muscle as it flexed beneath your touch. I can’t believe this is happening.

When you moved them down to his waist - and then lower, palms curved to follow his contours, Pero growled into your kiss, his hips snapping forward to push his length against the front of your hip. Your fingers curled inward, holding him in place - and Pero took the hint.

He lowered his body more, grinding against you and letting you feel the weight of him. “Pero we need to move up. I…” Sighing as he paused long enough to breathe - and kiss the column of your throat - you shivered the words out. “I want us to be comfortable, and…” He backed off, giving you an opportunity to resituate yourself - and then he was on you again.

He straddled you, legs spread wide so that when he leaned forward, he could continue the same motion as earlier. Your hands returned to the same place they’d been before, too, but instead of just touching him, you pushed your fingers beneath the material and held onto him, guiding his hips with skin-to-skin contact for the first time.

But Pero didn’t kiss your mouth again; instead he worked his way down your throat to your chest, lips trailing along the length of your collarbone before he bit down gently, accompanied by a thrust of his hips. You could feel the cool metal of the chain as it dragged against your skin, your mind trying to focus on that and the feeling of his mouth at the same time - and failing. You were overwhelmed by him, and he’d barely touched you. I haven’t really touched him, either.

He dragged his tongue over your skin and kissed his way down, drawing one nipple back between his lips before releasing it with a pop. “I could do this all night.” He spoke without moving away from you, the breath from each exhale warm as it hit your damp skin. “But I am impatient, and I’m sure you are, too.”

He moved off of you and then laid down beside you, stretching out along the length of your body. When you turned your head to look at him, you weren’t expecting him to kiss you right away, his hand laying lightly against your cheek.

Wiggling your hips, you settled in, heartbeat rapid, even after he backed away. “So I have to be patient, but you get to be impatient? That doesn’t seem fair.” He rolled his eyes, mouth opening to reply - but you didn’t give him the chance to. “Lay back.” He did as you asked, and then you propped yourself up on one elbow, taking him in.

You were impatient too, but the desire to remind him that you were thinking beyond that night was more important. I need to show him that I want him. Sliding your hand over his stomach, you focused on the skin beneath his navel and above his waistband, fingertips circling over the dark trail of hair there before you moved back up, dragging the edges of your nails along his skin. Pero grunted, gritting his teeth - but didn’t look away.

You leaned forward and kissed his chest, closing your eyes as you pressed your lips to his skin. You kept your hand moving, too, covering as much of his body as you could without wavering in your attention. There were parts of him that were more sensitive than others - his body jerked when you reached a spot on his side that was about halfway up his ribcage, and he groaned at the feeling of your tongue dragging slowly over the base of his throat, the breath leaving him in a whoosh when you took the chain between your teeth and tugged.

But when your hand moved back down at the same time you redirected your kisses to the underside of his jaw, Pero stopped you, his fingers closing around yours. “No. Stop.” You raised your head in concern, but he didn’t look angry - just overstimulated. “If you touch me now, I will not make it inside of you.” He swallowed as your eyes widened in surprise. “Next time. I promise you, but … not yet.”

“Ok, Pero.” You took a deep breath. “I understand.” He squeezed your hand and then released it, and you used it to balance yourself as you lowered your head again, mouth returning to its previous path. Pero’s hand moved almost lazily up your side as you left a trail of kisses across his face, though you avoided his mouth. You lingered at the patch in his beard before turning your head inward and nuzzling against his nose before taking another breath and deciding that if you were in - you were all in.

When you pressed your lips to the bottom edge of his scar for the first time, Pero’s hold on you tightened, but you didn’t let that deter you. You followed the length of it with your lips, mindful of the fact that he could tell you to stop at any time, but it wasn’t until you softly kissed his closed eyelid - and felt dampness beneath your lips - that you pulled away. “Pero? Is everything… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have -”

“No.” He moved faster than you thought was possible from his position, rolling the two of you over so that you were on your back and he was above you again. “You are … no one has ever…” He couldn’t get the words out, but you understood what he was trying to say. “You are too good for me.” His voice was unsteady, but he kissed you in the pause before he spoke again, mouth gentle. “I do not deserve someone like you after what I -” He needs to stop this.

“You do, Pero.” Reaching up, you took his face between his hands, forcing him to look at you. “You deserve good things. You deserve to be happy. And all of those people that treated you like shit don’t matter, because the way they were to you says more about them than it does about you. And I know this is entirely too fucking much for the first time with someone, but you need to hear it. If I have to keep reminding you that that’s the truth, I’ll do it every single time we’re together, if that’s what it takes.”

He was stunned - you saw the surprise in his eyes … but to your relief, he didn’t contradict you. “If you say so.” He gave you a small smile. “Did I ruin it?”

“No.” Biting the inside of your lip, you cocked your head to the side. “You can go ahead and find out just how much you didn’t ruin it if you want.” He looked confused, but after a few moments seemed to understand, shifting back into position next to you and then dragging his hand down the length of your body. “You can touch me, Pero. I -”

That was as far as you got before he did as you asked. Pero’s eyes went wide as he felt the dampness of the only piece of clothing you still wore, your back arching as you reacted to his touch. “You are … this is…” He looked down, chest heaving as he watched the movement. “Shit.”

He touched you through the thin material first, two fingers gliding along the outline of you, and when you widened the spread of your legs to give him more room, he took the opportunity to add a third finger and some pressure, his attention still on his hand. But that’s fine, you rationalized as he swirled his fingers in a slow circle. I want him to watch.

You reached down then, lifting your hips again to push the waistband down and over your thighs. Pero helped you out, tugging them further and exposing you to him for he first time. He slid his hand back up the inside of your thigh, and when he finally touched you, you moaned at the feeling, closing your eyes and pressing your head into the pillow. “Pero.”

You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, but it did something to Pero, who dropped his head, lips latching onto your shoulder while his fingers kept moving. He parted you with two of them, using a third to circle slowly over and over in the space between. It felt incredible, Pero’s touch not at all what you’d expected, and when he widened the circle and extended his fingers down, you curled your toes and opened your eyes - one hand fisting the blankets beside you and the other clamping down against his bare back.

He slid one finger into you and you rocked your hips forward, Pero replacing lips with teeth as you tilted your chin down, burying your nose in his hair. One finger became two, Pero thrusting them in and out of you slowly. He was slow and methodical, entirely focused on what he was doing - and you couldn’t get enough.

Widening the spread of your legs even more, you rolled your hips to meet each thrust, mouth open as you took and released quick, shallow breaths. You didn’t even register that he’d released your skin from between his teeth until Pero’s head rose and he spoke your name. “I think you’re ready for me. I hope you’re ready for me, because -”

“Yes. I - ohhh.” He kept his eyes on you as his hand continued to move, and even though it was difficult, you didn’t close yours. You caught the smile he gave you as he watched your reaction, Pero’s lips quirking upward and his eyes darkening. “Need you, Pero.” Reaching down, you touched his wrist, pushing on it gently. “Please.”

He removed his fingers slowly, and you hummed as they slipped free. “Give me a second.” He brought his hand up, eyeing how slick they were - and then before you had a chance to say anything, he popped them into his mouth, eyes closing at the taste of you. You gasped, but it didn’t cover up the sound of his deep, satisfied groan. Holy fuck, I wasn’t expecting that, I didn’t…

He rolled away from you, fingers still in his mouth, and then you heard the bedside table drawer open. It’s happening. But Pero stood up suddenly, climbing out of the bed and then tossing a condom toward you. “What are -”

“What do you want?” He glanced down as he spoke, hands at his hips and beginning to push his underwear down. “No, that is the wrong question.” He looked back up, the smile back on his face, though that time, it was more of a smirk. “How do you want this?”

“I…” You were torn between looking him in the eye and wanting to watch the final bits of his skin come into view. “Pero, I…” He laughed, the sound low, and then stepped out of his underwear, briefly bending over before he straightened up, giving you an unobstructed view at his entire body. Wow. Ok. You wanted to touch him - wanted to know what he felt like in your hand and sliding between your fingers. You wanted to taste him, too, the thought of weight of him against your tongue and the heat of him as he came consuming you. But that’s not happening tonight.

Pero reached down with the same hand he’d touched you with to wrap his fingers around his length, which distracted you again. Damn him. “Well?” He stroked himself lazily, and you filed the motion away for later, paying attention to the way he held himself and where he squeezed just a little extra. His hands are so goddamn big. “I need to know how -”

“Whatever you’re used to?” You rested one hand on your abdomen, turning your cheek toward the pillow without breaking eye contact. “I want the opposite.” It was yet another risk to ask Pero to consciously choose a different position and approach to sex than he usually did, but you hoped that he understood why you were asking for it - and what you hoped it would signal. “Is that alright?”

He was surprised by your request, but it didn’t keep him immobile for long, Pero putting one knee on the mattress and climbing back into bed. He reached for the foil square with his free hand and only let go of himself when he moved to open it. “It’s more than alright.” He looked down, and then resituated his hand at his base as he rolled the condom on, nodding his head. “It is a good reminder.”

He crawled toward you then and leaned over, using the knuckles on one hand to stroke your cheek. “A reminder?”

“Yes.” Pero stretched out beside you, rolling onto his side and facing you. “That this is not that.” He understands. Pero closed the distance between you, his hand on your side. When he kissed you, it wasn’t quite timid but there was a slight hesitation before he fully committed to it, his full lips slotted with yours before he parted them, urging you to do the same. It’s going to be OK, Pero.

As the kiss deepened, he used the hand on your side to guide your leg into place, positioning it so that your thigh rested atop his hip. You could feel him that way - pressing against you, each shallow flex of his hips increasing the contact.

“Are you sure?” He spoke between kisses, his damp forehead pressed to yours. “That you want this? With me?”

“I am.” You nodded, moving your hand from the back of his head to his shoulder. “Are you?” He didn’t speak, but Pero reached between your bodies, his fingers brushing against your center again as he lined himself up. You kept eye contact with him as he inched forward, and were unable to look away, even as he used a slow thrust to push inside of you. Finally.

You nodded after a few seconds and then Pero rocked forward again, moving his hand to the back of your thigh to pull you closer. “I need a minute.” His voice was strained, and you could see that he was gritting his teeth. “If I move, I -” You kissed him then, interrupting his words and trying to keep your own hips from moving. It’s alright.

He didn’t need to explain to you, because you understood. You were already tightly wound from the way he’d touched you, and thanks to the way he was holding you open, you knew that once he found a rhythm, you’d be able to come from the friction of your body against his alone. And if I finish quick, he will, too.

Pero licked into your mouth, tongue dragging over the edges of your teeth, and when he moved his hips, you did, too, meeting his motion. As he picked up speed, the kiss turned sloppier and his grip on your thigh tightened. You threaded your fingers through his hair, gripping it and tugging, mouth hanging open as you lost yourself in him.

You stopped trying to kiss him back and instead turned your head so that you could pant into his ear, Pero’s cheek pressed against the pillow and each of his exhales hitting your throat. He kept hold of your thigh and lengthened his strokes, slowing down. What is he…

When he rolled forward, pushing you onto your back, you went willingly, Pero angling his hips so that he could keep moving. But when he pulled all the way out of you you cried out, fingers tightening in his hair and against his shoulder. “Why did you stop?” You gasped the words out, eyes wide open as you stared up at him. “Pero, why did -”

“I did not stop.” He murmured the words, leaning down to kiss you again as he ran the hand on your thigh along your skin. “I paused so I could make us more comfortable.” After sitting up, he reached down with both hands and widened the spread of your legs so that he could kneel between them. You didn’t miss it when his gaze moved over the length of your body, or the way his jaw twitched at the sight of you, Pero’s fingers curling against your thighs.

“You’re a fucking tease, Pero Tovar.” You covered your face with both hands. “And you know it.” He laughed, the sound low, and then you felt the mattress dip as he shifted, one of his hands releasing your leg. I want to see this.

Propping yourself up on both elbows, you looked down and watched as he concentrated, eyes moving between himself and you as he re-aligned. Pero’s shoulders rose and fell as he took and released a deep breath… and then he was sliding into you again, the sight of his length disappearing into your body making your eyes close as you collapsed back onto the bed.

He started with deep, slow thrusts as he leaned forward, hands moving to the blankets on either side of your body. By the time he’d stretched out enough that he could bend his elbows and rest his weight on them, those movements had quickened. He went deeper from that angle, each forward flex of his hips accompanied by a quiet grunt and met with a reflex thrust of your own.

You flattened one foot on the bed and bent your knee, angling that leg outward while wrapping the other one around his hip again, your heel digging into the back of his calf and urging him even closer - which was next to impossible. As you closed your eyes, you raised both hands and dug your nails into his shoulders, not even trying to conceal the noises you made - and to your delight, Pero didn’t, either.

You’d remember them forever - the way he grunted and groaned, a quiet snarl escaping his lips when you lifted your hips and met a particularly sudden thrust of his, which was followed by an equally devastating one, his head dropping so that the tip of his nose met the front of your shoulder. He kept it there for the next few minutes, his bedroom filled with the sounds both of you made, but when he spoke your name, pulling it from deep within himself, you forced your eyes open, watching as he raised his head and looked down at you.

Pero didn’t falter in his movement, and you bit your lip at the way he gritted his teeth, nose wrinkling before he was able to speak again. “You feel incredible.” He swallowed, nodding as he continued. “Fucking perfect.” It was enough to make you shiver, and you knew he caught the motion when he actually smiled, Pero leaning down to kiss you on the mouth. “Will you come this way? Is -”

“Mmhmm.” You closed your eyes and gasped, back arching off of the bed when he swiveled his hips, the length of him buried inside you. “Oh, fuck, Pero.” He switched to shallow thrusts, giving you a chance to collect yourself. “Can you?”

“Of course.” He licked his lips, nodding. “I am holding back, I -”

“Don’t.” Don’t you dare. “I don’t want you to.” Moving one hand from his back to between your bodies, you nodded again, flexing your calf muscles. “Come, Pero. Let me feel you.” You dragged your hand over your skin and moved your fingers into place, making sure to graze his skin with the edges of your nails. He looked confused for a second, but when you went lower, spreading your fingers wide enough so that you could feel where he entered you, the look in his eyes changed to one of understanding. “Fuck me like you’ve waited three years to do it, Pero.”

He sped up again, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before he slammed them shut and tilted his head back. You closed yours, too, sighing. It felt good, the length of him sliding between your fingers before you moved your hand into place, two fingers pressed against your skin and gliding in a slow circle. But before you could find your own rhythm, Pero slowed down again, a growl tearing from his throat.

“No. Not like this. Not with you.” You opened your eyes, the motion of your hand stuttering - and it stopped when you saw the way he was looking at you. He’s never looked at … oh, shit. Pero’s brow was furrowed, his lips parted, and he was staring at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted to look at again. “Let me watch you.”

He sunk into you all the way and then paused, rotating his hips in a slow circle. It trapped your hand between the two of you, and Pero’s eyes were molten when he spoke again, voice low and full of need.

“Let me feel you.”

He drew his hips back, giving your hand the space it needed to begin moving again. You were hesitant. But when he nodded, arching a brow, you let out a long breath and did just that.

Starting slow, you circled your fingers, dragging them through your slick and spreading it over your skin. You hummed at your own touch, letting your mind wander to Pero’s fingers earlier, and when he started to move again, gradually increasing his pace to match the motion of your hand, you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath. “Pero, it won’t…” You hummed, adding pressure and a little speed. “It’s going to be quick, and -”

“Good.” He leaned down, mouth finding yours briefly. “We have waited too long.”

You agreed, and that was all you needed to speed up more, touching yourself the way you usually did. Eyes opening again, you found that Pero was still watching you, though his were heavy lidded - evidence of his body’s response to yours.

As the moments passed, you felt your own body’s response - a heat in your belly, the quickening of your heartbeat, muscles tensing as you got closer and closer to a moment that hours earlier, you hadn’t imagined was possible. “Pero, I -”

He smiled at you, nodding, and when you let go of him to drop your hand to the mattress, he grabbed for it without missing a beat, linking your fingers together and bringing both of them up next to your head. His grip tightened with your gasp, Pero’s hips flexing forward at the same time you thrust yours upward, increasing the friction.

It was enough.

You came with a gasp, fingers stuttering as your muscles clenched around him, Pero’s motion continuing as your toes curled and you squeezed his hand. He mumbled two words - that’s it - and you watched as his smile grew, your own mouth hanging open as you pressed your head into the pillow. Oh my god.

You cried out as a wave of pleasure coursed through you, the feel of him moving within you prolonging the moment - and then Pero was coming, too, one last sharp thrust burying him as deep as possible as he finished. You felt him as he filled the condom, Pero’s release coming in spurts as your body pulled him in deeper and sent a second wave through you, making you shudder beneath him. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, I…

Your hand fell away from your body and Pero’s head dropped again, his breath ragged as he rested his forehead against your shoulder and more of his weight on you.

Neither of you said anything for almost a minute, and to your surprise, it was Pero who opened his mouth first, head turning inward so that when he spoke, it was against the side of your neck. “I do not want to move.” He sighed and then kissed your skin, lips pressed to your pulse point. “Are you alright? You -”

“Pero.” Unlinking your fingers, you reached up and dragged them through his hair, pulling the sweat-damp strands away from his face. “I’m more than alright.” He lifted his head to look at you, eyes wide. “And I don’t want to move either, but if we don’t, I’ll fall asleep right here, and that would be messy.”

His lips twitched into a half smile and before you could say anything, he was kissing you, tongue dipping past your lips and into your mouth. I’ll never say no to this. He kissed you deeply, only breaking it when he needed to breathe… but the smile was still there and his eyes were bright - Pero obviously sated but still alert. “You’re right.” Without saying anything else, he reached down between you and then pulled out, rolling away and laying on his back beside you.

You missed him immediately, and weren’t able to conceal your gasp at the way it felt to realize that, head turning to the side so that you could look at him. “Pero, I -”

“No.” Turning his head, he winked at you. “Not yet. We will talk when we are done.”

Ten minutes later, you stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in one of his robes only to find the bedroom empty.

Your pulse had settled and you felt calmer, though you were still reeling from what had happened between you. You hadn’t stopped smiling while you were in the bathroom - even as you washed your face and brushed your teeth again, the expression had stayed put. And it’ll be there for a long time, too. Because … that was everything I wanted.

“Are you going to sleep in that?” He spoke from behind you, and when you turned toward the sound, you saw that he was holding two bottles of water, his shoulder pressed against the doorframe. “Because if you are, you are overdressed.”

He’d only put on his underwear, and you didn’t even try to keep from staring at him greedily, taking in the sight of his almost naked body. “I didn’t plan on it.” You untied the belt and let it drop to the floor, the sides of the robe splitting apart to expose a strip of skin at the center of your body. “If that’s alright.”

“It is preferred.” He moved closer, holding one of the bottles out to you. “I usually wear nothing to bed.” That was a piece of information you filed away, too, and after draining almost half of the bottle, you shrugged the robe down and over your shoulders before tossing it to the side and getting back into bed - though you climbed under the covers that time.

He flipped the light switch off and then drank deeply from the bottle before setting it down and taking off his underwear. Even in the low light coming in through the slats in the window blinds, you could see him clearly, watching his outline before he climbed into bed and moved as close to you as he could get. “What were you going to say earlier?” He flattened his hand atop the pillow as he spoke, though he didn’t touch you.

“I was going to say,” you started as you stroked the length of his bare arm, knuckles dragging along his skin. “That when you just … rolled away? It was … I missed …” Just say it. “It’s so stupid, Pero, but you were there and then you weren’t, and I realized that -”

“It is not stupid.” He moved his hand enough so that he could touch your face, his thumb sliding over your cheek. “I was … abrupt. I will work on that.” He inched closer, his cheek scraping across the pillow. “With you, hopefully.” He blinked slowly, and you felt as he held his breath, waiting for your response. Oh, Pero.

“We might need a lot of practice.” Biting your lip, you also moved your head closer, though you didn’t break eye contact. “But I’m up for it.” A smile spread slowly across his face, Pero’s eyes widening slightly before he closed them, mouth finding yours in a brief - but tender - kiss.

“Practice is the only way to improve.” Moving his hand from your face to your side, Pero curled his fingers over your hip. “I hope that tonight was what you wanted it to be.” Is he seriously questioning this?

“It started out kind of rocky, but yeah, Pero. It was.” You paused, thinking. “It is.” It made your head spin to think about everything that had happened throughout the previous evening - and the weeks leading up to it. But it’s worth it. He’s worth it. “How do you feel about this?”

“About this or about you?” He narrowed his eyes, but then grinned. “Because the answer is the same for both: I feel good. This is what I want.” He kissed you again, nodding. “You are what I want.”

His direct response caught you off guard. But as the kiss continued, his arm winding around you and pulling your body flush against his as you flattened your hand against his back, you understood that it shouldn’t have. If there was anything that you knew to be true about Pero, it was that when he spoke, the words had meaning. It takes him a lot to get there, though.

The kiss ended and as Pero settled back in against the pillow, he yawned, you not far behind. “It is late.” He sighed, moving his leg so that he could hook it over your calf. “We should sleep.” You agreed - you were exhausted, and the warmth and comfort of being in bed next to him was making you drowsy.

Instead of replying, you tucked your chin and rested your forehead against his collarbone, closing your eyes. I could get used to this. He kissed the top of your head and you felt when he relaxed, the weight of his arm heavy where it laid against your body. I might already be used to this.

You began to doze off, but were interrupted by the quiet utterance of your name, Pero’s fingers dancing over your lower back. “Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me tonight and making me listen to you.”

“It wasn’t just me.” You didn’t move your head, speaking the words with your lips just above his skin. “Christina was -”

“She put us in there, but it was all you. You said what I needed to hear, and I know you would not have made so much of an effort if you did not mean it.” He kissed you again, that one lingering. “Please don’t stop doing that.”

You assured him that you wouldn’t, but the steady beat of his heart was lulling you to sleep, and you didn’t even try to open your eyes. We’ll talk more later.

The following afternoon, you pulled up in front of William and Lin’s, Pero’s fingers tightly laced with yours on the center console.

He’d woken up before you - and woken you up with his hands and mouth, Pero trailing touches and kisses over every part of your body that he could reach without disturbing you. From there, you’d had each other again - once in the bed and then again after breakfast, Pero pulling pleasure from you with his fingers in the kitchen before leading you into back into his bedroom.

You’d showered at his place and changed back into your clothes, which made the stop at your house short, leaving you plenty of time to get to your destination. You hadn’t talked much about what came next, or how you’d present yourselves to your friends. But the fact that they know I left with Pero and didn’t come to get my car was probably telling.

“Pero, we need to talk about something before we go in.” Shifting in your seat, you squeezed his hand. “What will we tell them? They’re not stupid, but -”

“They are not.” He cocked his head to the side, gesturing at the house with his free hand. “But is it their business? We don’t… we don’t even know what this is, do we?”

“I know what I’d like it to be.” Pressing your lips together, you took a deep breath. “And what I think it could be, but … it’s only been one night, so maybe you’re right. Maybe we should just say that it’s not something we’re ready to talk about.”

“Then we are on the same page.” He leaned closer, lips curving upward as he smiled. “Maybe we should just wait and see if they ask, and then we decide how to respond.” The same page? Really? It shouldn’t have surprised you, especially with the way Pero had responded to your touch that morning and the previous night. It was obvious there was more to things than just physical attraction, that it hadn’t waned between you after the first time you’d been together.

You wanted to kiss him in reply, but instead just nodded, giving him a return smile before pulling your hand free. “Want help carrying stuff in? I know you only have a couple presents, but I might as well make myself useful.” He laughed, nodding, and moments later, you were walking side by side up the driveway and toward the door. As the two of you paused on the front step, Pero reached for the doorbell while you froze, eyes on the space just above his head. Shit. Damn you, Lin.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He frowned, and then tilted his head back, looking up, too. “Oh. Is that … what I think it is?”

“Yes.” You chuckled, looking down and closing your eyes. “That definitely wasn’t there yesterday. I can’t believe she’d put mistletoe up after the diner. It -”

“She is clever.” Pero took a step forward, reaching out to touch your chin. “I should have known.” His gaze dropped to your lips, Pero’s expression thoughtful. “It is tradition.” Heart pounding, you parted your lips and closed the distance between you, your fingers tight around the handle of the gift bag you carried. It is. “And I did say it was not the mistletoe I was saying no to, just the timing.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Pero.” He laughed quietly but did as you asked, his lips warm against yours. You leaned into him, one hand flat against his chest, and your own heart beating wildly behind your ribcage. You meant to pull away quickly, but he didn’t let you - instead moving the hand at your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you in place while he continued to kiss you. He nipped at your lower lip, the bite of his teeth making you gasp.

But Pero only laughed quietly and did it again before he deepened the kiss, his tongue pressing forward to meet yours and giving you a taste of the mouthwash he’d used at your place.

“Well that worked out better than I thought it would.” With a jolt, you broke the kiss and whipped your head to the side, finding Lin and William standing in the open doorway, her phone held in her hands. Oh no. “Now I don’t have to ask how last night went.”

She lowered the device and your attention moved to William, the man’s attempt to hold a laugh back not at all successful. “No, you don’t.” Pero cleared his throat and stepped closer to you, his arm winding around your waist. “And now we don’t have to figure out a way to tell you, either.”

William laughed and Lin’s eyes widened as they stepped to the side to let you in. Say something. This isn’t what we just talked about. “Pero, I -”

He stopped you with a kiss to the temple as you crossed the threshold, his arm tightening. “This makes things much easier, I think.”

He wasn’t wrong. William and Lin had seen - firsthand - what they needed to see in order to answer questions about what had happened between you the night before, and about whether or not things were resolved in regard to the contract. They’d still probably ask questions, which was fine. But maybe now they’ll do it in private. You knew you’d say much more just to Lin, and figured that Pero would be the same with William.

After taking your coats and boots off, the four of you headed into the living room. You and Pero put your gifts beneath the tree with the others and then moved to sit on the couch while William and Lin chose an oversized chair, the woman curling up on his lap.

Pero lowered himself onto the cushions first, and then, to your surprise, reached up to take your hand, fingers closing around yours before he pulled down on it. Oh. Is he… “Come here.” You sat next to him, leaving very little space between you. He released your hand as you got comfortable, draping his arm across your shoulders and urging you to lean against him. He is. He really…

You couldn’t help yourself, closing your eyes as you leaned in further to kiss Pero’s stubbled cheek before whispering the words “I like this” into his ear. He hummed, fingers tightening on your shoulder. There was no containing your smile as you straightened up, moving your hand over to rest it on his thigh. I really like this.

“So.” Lin cleared her throat and then spoke, her eyes bright as she looked between you. “Are we opening presents now, or after we eat?”

#pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pero x female reader #pero x reader #the great wall #the great wall fic #pero tovar au #the great wall au #pero tovar masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #christmas story #pero tovar is grumpy #masterlist #writing

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whenlostinthedarkness · 10 months ago

Text

Tis The Damn Season | Part 2

Ellie Williams x Reader

Photo credit: [ x ]

Summary: After your unexpected run-in with your ex girlfriend Ellie, you take a trip down memory lane and explore your spots in Jackson. The next morning, Your mom starts to make a miraculous recovery which leaves you with some hope. Come nightfall, that ex girlfriend makes yet another surprise appearance, and one that you can’t ignore.

Rating: M [mentions of past relationship, mentions of an ill mother, & angst w/reader & Ellie.]

WC: 4.7k

A/N: Sorry that part 2 took forever to come out. I’ve had lotssss happening in my personal life and creating anything was hard, but I hope you enjoy this part 2!

Taglist: @bready101 @onlinelesbo

Part One | Masterlist | How you can help Palestine

——————-

You were left alone again. Except a new feeling had crept up on you that hadn’t been there before. It could be relief from getting your first run-in with your ex, or a shaken emotion from seeing someone who was like a dark ghost in your mind. You couldn’t put your finger on it. All you could think about was the brick building that sat directly in front of you.

Before the outbreak, one could call this place a cafe of some sort. Since those were in severely few supply nowadays, it was more of a dinner, cafe, and hang-out spot all combined into one.

A lot of teens and young adults would come here to do school work, just have a chat, or grab a bite to eat. You and Ellie had claimed this spot as your first romantic public endeavor.

Without much thought, your feet moved until you stood directly down the center of the bay windows. Your reflection shone as you moved your face closer to the windows so you could get a proper look at the place. The only light illuminating the inside was one cast from the string lights that hung above, however, you could still make out the familiar mixed-matched tables and chairs that held so many memories of so many people.

And then, you saw it. That same roughened, wooden table you knew from your teenagehood. It was tucked away in the farthest right corner-one that you remember picking on purpose so you and Ellie could have some sort of privacy within a social place.

At this very place was where Ellie held your hand for the first time, where you and her took a pocket knife to the wood of the table and carved your initials inside of a heart to be engrained forevermore.

The last memory, however, was a bitter one. One that had you moving as far away from the glass as one stride of your legs could get you. It was like you saw a ghost of the past. She lingered everywhere and stained every wall in that place in the best and worst way possible.

You’d rather not reminisce on the day when you ended things with her, all because Ellie, “didn’t know what she wanted” when it came to the both of you or life in general. It’s funny how you chose that very table and chairs to end what started in those exact seats.

You hadn’t realized how cold you were until your concentration was broken by the chattering of your teeth. Your eyes glanced downwards and caught a glimpse of your red raw hands. You figured you should head home.

As your cold legs and feet backtracked along the path, you couldn’t shake the image of Ellie’s face that you’d seen only moments ago. She still looked like Ellie, but different. The adult years aged their way onto her face and bones like expensive wine. You thought adulthood suited her very well. You felt yourself analyzing this “new” Ellie your entire stroll home.

Soon enough, your hand was opening the door and enclosing you in the warmth of your home..well, your old home. Slowly, your cold feet shuffled along until you were in bed with closed eyes and a mind that finally was able to drift into the unconscious world.

A couple of blocks away, Ellie herself had just gotten into her bed. That is, once she was able to pry herself from the window that, just so happened to have a crystal clear view of your route home.

The both of you went to bed with thoughts of the other swirling like rainstorms.

—

The sun shone through the window much too soon in your opinion. Your hand shielded your eyes as you picked up your watch from the table side bed; you groaned as you saw the two hands on the clock.

Though you did eventually get some sleep the night before, it was a small amount that still had your eyes stinging and puffy and your brain in an eternal fog. However, your mother was on your mind and you knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep just to catch a couple of extra hours when instead you could be spending that time with your mother at her bedside.

You were eager to get up and outfit your body in proper warm clothes, all while a pot of coffee boiled on the single electric stove top. Once the dark tan liquid was poured into a thermos and your work boots were strapped on your feet, you set off for what lay beyond the front door.

The sun rose moments ago as the streets were only littered with a couple of people who were either on top of their horses with rifles slung over their shoulders, or those who were on foot, busy getting the chores for the morning done.

Familiar faces greeted with sympathetic looks as you journeyed back to the infirmary. They didn’t have to start any pity-driven conversations with you for it to be clear that every single person you were coming across in this god-forsaken town was seeing you as fragile. You despised it.

Being fragile, for you, meant being weak and you’d go to the ends of the earth to prove that you were anything but weak. One could suppose that being meek or non-self-sufficient was one of your biggest fears.

The sun shone through the smudged windows, bringing a bright sunny light to this dreary place. A wave of antiseptic and gauze tingled inside your nostrils, bringing a weird sort of nostalgia. You caught the eye of the nurse from the night before, and she quickly had you follow her lead as she walked you down to your mother's cot.

“How’s she doing?”

The nurse tried her best to put on a happy face, but it looked so forced, it was impossible to see it as truth. “I checked on her a couple of hours ago and she was…, she seems to be the same as the last time you saw her”.

You nodded slowly as the heaviness of your mother's health remained on your chest.

The both of you passed rows and rows of empty and filled cots that were enveloped in stained curtains that hung from orange, rusted hooks attached to the ceiling. It felt dystopian to have such a bright sun shining down on people who were actively fighting to stay alive. You just hoped the same fate wasn’t stricken upon your mother- and it seemed that your hope was a force to be reckoned with.

There your mother was, sitting up with her back resting against the cold brick wall. She still looked ill, but that corpse-like appearance and the greyness of her skin was fading into a more natural tone. She seemed alive.

You couldn’t hold back your joy as you squealed, “Mom!”, and came to sit on the floor next to her bed.

The nurse stood with mouth agape as your mother sat her hand on top of yours; you enveloped your hand with hers almost immediately.

“How are you doing Mom?”

Her voice was rasped, but her smile was genuine as she told you she was fine and found much more importance in asking how you were doing and what you had been up to. At this moment, it was obvious your fear of weakness had come from somewhere or rather from someone.

Day turned into sunset and sunset turned into the grey of night. Your mother’s eyes were drooping the later it got and you knew she was pushing herself only because she was enjoying the time she was spending with you. With a little bit of convincing, you were able to get your mother tucked away in bed. Your lips pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead as you whispered sweet words into her ear. The night nurse herself couldn’t help but smile at the interaction between the two of you.

“I’ll come to find you if anything changes”, she said softly. You nodded before giving your mother one last look. A surge of joy and hope was alive in your heart- one that you hadn’t felt since..well, a long time.

As you exited the infirmary, your eyes looked up to the night sky. You noticed how the stars were brighter tonight than they had been the night prior. You knew Ellie would be looking up at the sky tonight in awe-you could picture it perfectly and you hated it. You hated how it had become a habit for you to look up to the nighttime sky any time you were given the oportunity, all because of her.

Thankfully, your thoughts of her were quickly interrupted.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” that all too familiar, deep voice hummed in fatherly comfort.

“Hello again Joel. You just getting home?”

Joel nodded from his place on top of his horse, a near reflection of the night before. “Yeah. We had a long day today, didn’t we girl?”

You smiled as you watched him lovingly pat the side of his brown quarter horse.

“You know, I’m cooking some of my famous soup tonight. It’s been stewing all day and I sure could use some help eating it.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his dim suggestion that was a clear ploy. “Hmm, I wonder who could be available to help you out there Joel. I think I may know someone.”

Joel raised his eyebrow with fake astonishment, “Oh really? Maybe this someone could hitch a ride with me on the back of my horse and I could give them a homecooked meal tonight. I’m sure this someone hasn’t had one in a longgg time.”

You shook your head grinning ear to ear, “You’re ridiculous you know that.” However, the humor was quick to leave your eyes as you thought about Joel’s home. Most, if not all of the memories were drunk with her. “Will uh-will Ellie be there?”

Joel’s smile fell the slightest bit as he answered honestly. “Nah. She’s out on patrol tonight and she won’t be back ‘til morning. Besides, she’s got her own little place behind the house now. She only really comes around when she wants some of my cookin’ - and who could blame her!”

You reveled in his talent of being able to turn a near-sour moment into a positive one. “Then I guess I have no choice but to have some of your world-famous soup.”

With that, you reached your hand up to meet Joel’s as he assisted you in getting on the back of his horse.

You noticed that it wasn’t as cold today. The snow was beginning to melt from the bare branches of the trees and it nearly felt like a new season was on the horizon. You knew it was silly, but you thought how nice it would be should your life be shifting in a sort of new beginning as well. One with a happy, healthy mother and maybe one without as much hatred for a girl you were desperately trying to forget.

Before long, you and Joel were at the all too familiar Rancher Street with his modest home in the near distance. The white picket fence stood out amongst the soggy brown soil as you walked from the back of the house, where Joel had stowed away his precious mare, to the front entrance. The dingy garage where you knew Ellie was living sent a shiver down your spine as you spotted it sitting beneath the dim oil street light. Quickly, you turned around and followed behind Joel before curiosity got the best of you.

The moment Joel flicked the light switch, the orange, warm hue was so familiar and comforting that you felt like you were drenched in the comfiest blanket you’d ever felt. His home felt so warm. However, your comfort was interrupted by a rustling coming from deep within the home.

“Stay here,” Joel said with a protective outreached arm as his eyes scanned the parameter.

Cautiously, he walked in a near slink-like manner as he retracted the knife that he had stowed away in his back pocket and held the sharpened end out in front of his chest. Foot by foot, he walked slowly, yet with assertiveness.

Just as Joel got to the very back of the main hallway a rattle sounded again in the same area which you now presumed was the kitchen. Out of caution, he rested the flat of his back against the wall that was shielding the kitchen from the rest of the home until suddenly, a figure that appeared to you as a shadow began coming closer and closer to the open doorway that Joel was centimeters away from.

Joel knew it was now or never as he jumped quickly, keeping his head straight to stare directly into the kitchen at whatever or whoever was intruding in his space.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack kid! What are you doing here?” You saw a full sigh leave Joel’s body as his body physically relaxed right in front of you. You watched, puzzled by the entire situation, until you heard the voice of the mysterious intruder who, it turns out, was no stranger to you afterall.

“Sorry”, she spoke. At the sound, you felt as if every bone in your body broke all at once. You had the urge to run straight out of the door you had walked in moments ago, yet you remained frozen in place.

“Me and that new guy switched shifts and I smelled your soup cooking on my way home so..”

“So what you’re saying is, my soup made you break into my damn house?” Joel spoke with amusement in his voice. From his side profile, you could make out his signature amused smile as he shook his head back and forth.

Ellie said, “Pretty much,” and you could perfectly picture the way her shoulders shrugged in playful arrogance.

“Well don’t let me interrupt your dinner. Help yourself,” Joel said as his am stretched upward on the door frame and looked down the hallway. His face went slack as he remembered your presence as well as the promise he assured you of and how that promise was under the very same roof.

Joels mouth hung open while his eyes looked at you with “i’m sorry” written in his pupils. He tried his best to assess the situation and somehow work it out in your favor in a matter of minutes, but it was inevitable.

“Were you talking to someone outside? I thought I heard you.” Ellie questioned as she screwed the lid on her thermos. Joel didn’t answer - he appeared frozen in time as he searched your face.

“Or have you started talking to yourself now that you’re getting old as shit?”, Ellie teased with a smirk, expecting a similar reaction from Joel, yet his face remained like a stone.

“Is everything okay?”, she said with genuine concern in her eyes. “Oh god, did you bring a date home or something?”

Before Joel could figure out a plan or stop her from moving past him on the opposite side of the kitchen island, Ellie emerged from the doorway and was met with your hardened figure by the front door.

Neither of you said anything. It felt like a staring contest to see who would say something or make a move first and both of you were overly committed to winning this game of sorts.

“Uh.” Joel spoke as he moved to stand directly next to Ellie. “I’m uh-i’m sorry Ellie. I thought you wouldn’t be around or else-”

“Why’s she here?”, Ellie spat with eyes narrowed directly on you.

“I’ll just go.” Your hands shook as you turned yourself around and wrapped your hand around the door knob. You began to twist against the cold metal, until you heard an urgent “Wait” as Ellie protested your departure.

She wore a much softer expression when you turned around. Her face had relaxed-almost fallen-and her eyes were sympathetic.

“I was going to take this to go anyways”, Ellie said shaking the thermos for emphasis. “I’ll uh-catch you later Joel. Thanks for the soup.”

Accordingly, Ellie slipped out of the back door-her winter boots leaving mild, yet visible foot prints in her wake.

As soon as the door closed, Joel offered an apology that sounded as if he had put you in the most horrifying situation possible.

“I told you Joel. It’s fine-really!”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t want you thinking i set this up somehow. No matter how much I enjoyed you with Ellie, I would never do that to you.”

You nodded honestly. “I know.”

After the apologies and reassurances, you and Joel jumped right in to where you’d left off. Joel immediately went to work in the kitchen. Grabbing bowls and spoons and napkins. Asking you what drink you’d like and offering up his prized whiskey that you knew he didn’t offer to just anybody.

Just as the two of you were sat at the table with all the dinner essentials, there was a light knock at the front door. One that was so faint, if it weren’t for the silence of the apocalyptic world, you surely would’ve missed it.

Joel sighed as he stood from the table and tossed his napkin down onto the white lace table runner. “Sorry for all the interruptions. I’ll be quick.”

You nodded as your lips met the tip of your glass and the copper colored liquid burned down your throat in the best way possible. The whiskey was smooth and had you reminiscing on all of those past dinners with Ellie and Joel and this divine whiskey. If only things were as simple now as they were back then.

Joel’s voice was mumbling something in the distance, but his tone was so deeply hushed, you couldn't make out exact words or phrases. Then, came the footsteps. Suddenly, Joel and Ellie were standing in the dining room, both looking less than ecstatic.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, but Ellie’s generator blew out and can’t seem to get it up and running again.” Joel’s eyes couldn’t even look at yours as he spoke.

“I can just go to Dina’s or something-“

“No.” Joel and Ellie’s heads shot up to look at you which suddenly made you grow shy over your protest that flew out of your mouth before you could even properly think about it. “You should stay.”

“I should?”, Ellie questioned with a crease running along her forehead and eyes that were bunched together.

You look at Joel and then back at Ellie. “Yeah, you should.”

The dinner was quiet. It seemed like you could hear the sound of every fork scraping along China and each gulp that moved liquid down someone’s throat. Joel was the only saving grace, and thank god for it.

“So. What are you up to nowadays? Where have you been staying?”

“A town thats a bit away. Nothing special about it really. I mainly keep to myself and just try to stay alive.”

Joel nodded along as you spoke. “Do you think you’ll ever come back to Jackson permanently? I know you’re missed her and not just by your mama.”

Curiously, your eyes move over to Ellie’s to see if Joel’s question gets any sort of response out of her. She is stone faced as she moves her fork around her plate.

Secretly, in the deepest pit of your stomach You wanted her to miss you. You wanted her talk about you constantly while you were gone. You wanted her to not be able to move on from you just as you weren’t able to move on from her.

How selfish. You knew it was an act of ultimate self pleasure and yet the indulgence never ended. Some sick part of yourself wanted her to ache just as much as you were aching to be with her again. Yet you suppressed it all.

You acted as if she didn’t exist and that you didn’t care, but at this dinner table you could feel your facade crumbling into a thousand pieces because every damn question, you found yourself looking to Ellie to see a reaction of pain or longing or something else to signal that she missed you or cared about what you had been up to since you left. You weren’t even close to being over her, regardless of how hard you tried.

“Everything alright?”

You looked up to see both Joel and Ellie staring at you in the midst of your silence. You could only hope your facial expression didn’t give away how truly crazy and overwhelmed you felt.

“Yeah-yeah! I'm fine, just a bit tired I guess.”

Joel nodded as he spooned the final bite of his soup into his mouth. Ellie’s bowl was still nearly full.

“Maybe I should head out.” You said, patting the napkin along the line of your lips. “It’s getting late and I want to get up bright and early to see my mom.”

You needed to get some fresh air and you needed it now.

“I can walk you.”

For a moment you felt anger. Anger that your loneliness was being dismantled when you craved solidarity, until you remembered who it was that was saying those sweet words. The very poison that filled the cup that you couldn’t seem to drag away from your mouth.

“You don’t have to, really”

“I know I don’t have to.” Ellie’s tone was one you didn’t dare to question. Not that you had a choice as she was already gathering her belongings that were strewn by the back door.

Ellie fully prepared to give you a true piece of her mind. She told herself that if ever given the opportunity, she would lay it on you. Tell you how much you hurt her. Tell you how confused and fucked up she felt after hearing that you’d left without a trace, all while being silent with your goodbyes. She’d rehearsed the speech a million times in her head when she’d lay in her empty bed with nothing but the light of an outdoor lamppost casting shadows through the dustied window. She was so dark and utterly alone.

On the other hand, Ellie was an idiot either. She knew the reason you left was because of the fight. She knew she was being a child, and she knew that she was fighting off a force that wasn’t a threat to her, but Ellie would’ve never expected you to leave how you did strictly from her actions. You were headstrong and stubborn and everything she loves in a woman - but who's to say a human can’t have moments they regret.

Who's to say that Ellie wished she told you right then and there that she loved you instead of acting like you were a puzzle she didn’t know the answer to when she knew, damn well, that she was completely smothered in adoration for you. She knew she loved you - but saying it made her vulnerable, bare-naked.

She’d lost so many in life and getting closer to you-loving you- would just be a precursor for the pain Ellie would feel when she eventually lost you, because everyone leaves. That’s exactly what you did. You left.

Silently, you walked to the front door, grabbing your coat and slipping on your boots over your wool socks.

“You both be safe alright?”, Joel said while walking towards the both of you as you stood by the front door. He wore a smile that was interesting to say the least. You swore you could see hope in his eyes.

“Thanks again for dinner Joel.” You kindly waved him off and turned around to face Ellie who was holding open the front door for you. Chivalry isn’t crucified after all, even when it’s your ex.

It was so quiet. A howl from the wind or a nearby coyote was the only audible objects-that and the snow being smothered underneath both of your shoes. Speaking of shoes - the canvased sneakers that were nearly begging to be tossed in the trash still clung to Ellie’s feet even in this sort of weather. It made you chuckle ever so slightly.

Funny - Ellie wasn’t sure what on earth could be funny at a time like this.

“What?”

You shook your head, feeling shy all of a sudden as Ellie tried her best to figure you out. So many questions hung over her head when it came to the thought of you. A deep marooned contrast of when she was yours and you were hers; she’d never known someone as much as she knew you back then.

“No, tell me. What’s so funny”, Ellie’s words came with venom in her spit. It caught you off guard as you walked with your mouth agape before directing your eyes to the road ahead instead of Ellie’s tattered shoes.

“Those fucking things,” You said motioning to the shoes that Ellie glanced down to look at.

The skin on Ellie’s forehead screwed together as she too kept her eyes forward. “What about them?”

“Nothing.. just..still wearing those converse in the snow I see.”

Suddenly Ellie stopped in her tracks as flames began to seethe through her pupils. She felt her muscles tense up as her jaw began to ache from how hard her teeth were being gnashed together on her own accord. “Why do you do that?”

You were confused, but mimicked her stillness as your hands settled to cross in front of your chest as if it were a boundary. “Do what?”

“Talk down to me like that!”

“Oh c'mon El, you know I’m only giving you shit. Lighten up a little.”

“Lighten up? You want me to lighten up after-.” Ellie stopped the words from tumbling out of her mouth by pinching her lips together as tightly as she possibly could.

There it was. The barricade was bombed and the dam was broken. You could feel your body begin to shake and your teeth grit behind your lips as the topic that you were desperately trying to avoid-the very elephant in the room was being exposed and drawn from behind it’s curtain.

“You really want to do this now? While my fucking mother is in the hospital Ellie! I don’t know if she's even going to make it and you’re focused on why I left?”

Suddenly you were the one steaming red as your gut reaction kicked in. Your palms met Ellie’s chest as you pressed her backwards slightly. Not in an effort to physically harm her, but one that got her-the trauma-as far away from you as possible. “Get away from me.”

Of course Ellie felt bad. Your mother hadn’t even crossed her mind today, she was ashamed to say. It seems that the anger and sadness and grief of you overcame the entire reason she was seeing you face to face, thus her being too free spoken with words that fell on the spectrum of hate.

By the time she’d accepted her ignorance, you’d already started fast walking away.

“Hey, please. C’mon babe.” Ellie knew it was trouble the second the pet name was accidentally spoken.

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Ellie could feel the tears well in her water line and god did she hate it. She hated how you were pushing her away again and again and again even if she knew why.

“Just talk to me, please.” Ellie begged with a tone that was pathetic to any ears who caught it. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t affect you.

Ellie was never one to show emotion. Exhibit A: when you confronted her about what the both of you were and she responded with “I don’t know”. You’d think the girl was a god damn Capricorn with the amount of avoidance she displayed when it came to anything emotional. But this was so much more than the stars in the sky and the time she was born.

In the heat of the moment, the both of you had already swiftly walked the route to your mothers home. You knew you shouldn’t do it, yet you felt it gnaw away through your skin, into your bones as the anger and frustration began to slither away to hide in the snow covered grass.

“Do you want to-“

“Yeah”, Ellie interrupted with several nods of her auburn colored head.

#ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #ellie fic #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #the last of us part 2

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dnickels · 23 days ago

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John Irving Poem Playlist

I love the hype around Davechella and wanted to do something a little different- a mixtape of poems, with commentary (desperate self-justification) and bonus poems below the cut

The Lamb, William Blake

The Pilgrim, Sophie Jewett

Self-Dependence, Matthew Arnold

The Light of Stars, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Wanderer, Unknown, trans. Roy M. Liuzza

Up-Hill, Christina Rosetti

Sir Galahad, Alfred Tennyson

II.

They Could Not Tell Me Who Should Be My Lord, Edwin Muir

God gave a Loaf to every Bird, Emily Dickinson

Ancient Text, Louise Glück

I Find no Peace, Thomas Wyatt

A Secret Told, Emily Dickinson

Mary Magdalen, James Elroy Flecker

Because I Liked You Better, AE Housman

III.

A Better Resurrection, Christina Rossetti

The Temptation of Saint Anthony, Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Leonard Cottrell OR trans. Len Krisak

Batter my heart, three-personed God, John Donne

At Least to Pray, Is Left, Is Left, Emily Dickinson

'Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend", Gerard Manley Hopkins

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, (LXXXIV- LXXXVI) trans. Edward FitzGerald

I Shall Know why- when Time is over, Emily Dickinson

IV.

Sudden Hymn in Winter, Joseph Fasano

Fable and Decade, Louise Glück

Love (III), George Herbert

Of Molluscs, Mary Sarton

Dark Night of Soul, Juan de la Cruz, trans. E Allison Peers

He Touched Me, So I Live to Know, Emily Dickinson

The Finder Found, Edwin Muir

The Plate, Anthony Hecht

Prospice, Robert Browning

Pietà, Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Jessie Lemont

DEATH THE COPPERPLATE PRINTER, Anthony Hecht

The Gold Lily, Louise Glück

Futility, Wilfred Owen

Flock, Billy Collins

"What, no Wild Geese?" spiritually Wild Geese is here, tucked in section IV, which might a well be subtitled "The soft animal gets a treat", same with Song of Songs and so many psalms I couldn't pick one. I wanted to try to play with poems that were either new to me or a little further off the beaten track (although there are still some obvious picks but come on was I not going to get some Donne in there?). Frankly, this entire list could have been Emily Dickinson start to finish, it's not yet accepted historical fact that she was an inexplicable psychic witness to the sufferings of the Franklin Expedition but I am submitting my findings to journals as we speak

(sorry Jirv for all the Catholics and extremely suspect Anglicans!!)

I. SEEKING

Whenever I invoke "The Lamb" please know I am reading it with the same menace and sense of foreboding as Patti Smith. Given the vibe I'm trying to cultivate you'd think there would be more Blake, but I think Jirv has such a profoundly different experience with Church Authority and his own conversion experience that he and Blake hardly seem like they share the same faith. Even in a scenario where he managed to unclench, I can't see him espousing a sentiment like The Garden of Love. Maybe if he survived to reflect on his encounter with Koveyook he might groove more with "[Christ] is the only God ... and so am I and so are you."

The only section that has at least a few poets I think Jirv would actually read, namely Matthew Arnold-- the only poem on here that I think isn't very good, I'm sorry to Mr. Arnold but there we are, they were right to light your ass up in Punch. He's here however because I think his work captures a very clear and immediately accessible sense of the early Victorian man striving to be himself, in the sense that he can flower fully into the model of upstanding sober bourgeois middle-class manhood which isn't always attainable for later birth-order sons in a navy overcrowded with officers. The real life Irving's letters touched me very much in that he is both looking for a deeper connection with God, a better version for himself, and in the material world, a way to make enough money to establish himself as capital-R Respectable in a way that swashbuckling at sea or derring-do in the colonies doesn't really allow him. I actually don't know if the years line up for him to have read Longfellow but this stanza:

O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know erelong, Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.

Is such a classic mid 19th century "making yourself miserable for ideological reasons" motto. Shades of "Invictus" (which for some reason I don't know if Jirv would vibe with, maybe more of a Crozier poem).

I think you could also call the first section "Voyages", I was struck by how often the real Irving was compelled to relocated to try and make a place for himself in the world in the literal, material sense, and the few letters we have are largely his thoughts on his spiritual seeking-- I was very surprised not to find a settled and secured ticket-to-Heaven holder but someone who still considers himself a student, is still wrestling and grasping and looking for something.

Prithee, Pilgrim, go not hence; Clear thy brow, and white thy hand, What shouldst thou with penitence? Wherefore seek to Holy Land? Stern the whisper on his lip: Sin and shame are in my scrip.

It feels a little much to say 'Jirv is the Galahad of their doomed Grail quest' but frankly, given that no one succeeds, I kind of like the idea of a failed Galahad. It's slightly ahistorical to invoke but once we get into the 1860s and the mid-Victorian chivalric revival Galahad becomes a potent symbol for a kind of chaste imperial knighthood in service to God/Queen/Country. At least one young office who died in WWI was named Galahad, not just a PG Wodehouse joke christening.

II. CRISIS

Obviously there are ten thousand things that could torment the evangelical protestant mind and bedevil one's self-worth and it doesn't have to be "hopelessly in love with your best friend" but I wasn't going to miss a chance for some Housman, was i? Wyatt gives us the money couplet:

I desire to perish, and yet I ask health. I love another, and thus I hate myself.

I had included Flecker's We That Were Friends but felt it was just slightly too self-aware, ditto Rosetti's Winter: My Secret.

III. STRIFE

I think these are all pretty self-explanatory. I could have added ten more Emily Dickinson poems because she is the only one on this earth who gets it (me, the deal, the whole of existence). Hopkins I think is more concerned with the sins of the world than the real life Irving (who, based on the very limited material shared, must be the most laid-back and chill evangelical in human history? Or maybe I spent too long among the Baptists) but I can see Jirv wondering, in the God-proof bunker of his diary, why the wicked are flourishing while he is losing his everloving mind and threatening to lock up ABs for being afraid of ghosts.

Here is the excerpted Khayyam so you don't have to go looking (although you should because its wall to wall bangers) (context: the narrator is standing in a potter's shed, and listening to the vessels talk amongst themselves)

LXXXIV. Said one among them— "Surely not in vain My substance of the common Earth was ta'en And to this Figure molded, to be broke, Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again." LXXXV. Then said a Second—"Ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy; And He that with his hand the Vessel made Will surely not in after Wrath destroy." LXXXVI. After a momentary silence spake Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make; "They sneer at me for leaning all awry: What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"

"Did you make me just to smash me, God?"

Runners-up for this section included Rossetti's The Three Enemies, which only didn't make the cut because I think its slightly uneven compared to the rest of this work and this list has become pretty Rossetti-heavy. Ditto De Profundis.

IV. ACCEPTANCE

Also pretty self-explanatory. Mystical union with Christ or a very special sergeant of the marines, or both! Is it canon? No! But I like to think that even just one time...

If you read any poem on this list please read 'Love (III)' and 'The Finder Found', the latter of which is my 'Wild Geese'. It seems self-serving to say I cried when I read it but I did. Meanwhile Herbert is goated and his entire work could be listed here but hearing Love (III) read aloud made me understand what poems could do.

I cheated putting two Glück poems for one but given that they were published together in that magazine I think its ok. Here's even more cheating: The Undertaking would be in there if I could squeeze it on the same line. "The darkness lifts, imagine, in your lifetime" PLEASE

Runners-up here were Larkin's First Sight, which just doesn't quite fit but I love for the sense of spring coming to someone who doesn't know there's anything other than winter deprivation, and A Shropshire Lad XI (On your midnight pallet lying) which I LOVE but again doesn't quite jive with the theme, but I do imagine it as a bridge poem between this section and the last...

V. DOOM

A little bit of Browning, who might squeak in under the line of plausibility (though perhaps not this poem) as Jirv sets out on the death march with waning faith that is not, in fact, a death march but then his journey ends in Stabtown, population: YOU. "The Plate" in this case would be that faith and knowledge of being loved that remains even after hardship and the final lost battle, maybe even literally in the meat from his stomach. But misery and death put all the men on the rack and instead of salvation they are essentially tortured to death, often long enough to crush/squeeze out any semblance of humanity and leaving the animal capacity for violence.

"Futility" could encompass the whole sorry venture but in specific the shot of Jirv's body after all the effort to make contact with someone would could help. Was it for this? "Exposure" also a strong contender for "the long slow process of freezing to death for unclear reasons".

"Flock" of course-- God needs martyrs.

#I'm not pretentious enough to call it an anthology but I suppose technically....#anyways. I've been collecting poems since October and this seems like the idea circumstance to set this post free #john irving #davechella #yes its long. eat your vegetables.#there could be more of everything really #more Rilke #ten thousand times more Dickinson #the terror

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dnvrsmedia · 2 years ago

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The Farmer, The Wrangler, & The Cowboy - TLOU II AU

Part One - Spring Morning

18+ series

Summary: You're the new farmer in town with a big heart and an even bigger love for two women. What happens when these two women apparently hate each other?

It was a warm spring morning in Jackson, Wyoming. Life was slowly blossoming as the days started to get warmer and longer. Sweat glided down your smooth face as the sun beamed brightly onto the Earth. Your hands are currently busy lifting up the heavy bails of hay. You were a farmer here at the commune. You were one of the younger ones on the farm, but you didn’t let that fool anyone. You were more than capable of taking care of and maintaining the land. You liked it that way too. Tending to the Earth, thanking it for its bountifulness. With a steady hand, you firmly grasp the last bail of hay and fling it to the top of the pile. Your strong forearm wipes the sweat from your brow with a squint. You really should listen to your Mama and wear those sunglasses. You were pulled from your thoughts with the beautiful view of the wrangler in the distance.

Her short auburn hair tucked behind her ears as a hat lay snugly upon her head. Your eyes trail from the top of her head, down to her elongated neck. Constellations of freckles and moles litter her body like they were hand placed from whatever almighty that may rule from above. Her neck is briefly exposed as her muscles contort and contract with her movements. You’re not sure what she's doing but you definitely are enjoying the view. Her tank top is doing very little to protect her pale skin from the harshness of the sun. You swear you could see the beads of sweat glissing on her skin from here. Her muscles- oh god were her muscles beautifully on display. Distally from her muscles that make you squeeze your thighs together, are her most valuable assets. Ellie Williams has the most beautiful hands you think you have ever seen. Her strong fingers that can shoot a pistol quicker than anyone in the whole state of Wyoming. Ellie made it known to all who were in her path of how proud she was of her hands. Although, she never needed to do that. You see, Ellie Williams’ legacy didn’t only have to deal with her amazing wrangling and shooting skills. Ellie was a player. She didn’t mind knowing that every woman fawned over her and that all the men wanted to be her. Unbeknownst to most, all that didn’t matter to her. Ellie only wanted who she had her eyes on, and Ellie Williams always got what she wanted.

With a quick look up from what she was doing, Ellie noticed you staring up at her. Immediately a devious smirk adorned her face. If Ellie was one thing, she was a tease. Leaving her unfinished work behind, Ellie walked down from the stables to talk to you. Panic set into your body as soon as you saw her moving towards you. Trying to act like you didn’t notice her, you began working on your task. You really wished that Ellie was on her way somewhere else; I mean you always end up making a fool out of yourself whenever you were around her. If you were to be a respectable farmer, then you were to keep your head down and get to work.

“Howdy,” a raspy drawl that you thought about way too often breaks you out of your train of thought.

You let out an exhale in readiness to make an absolute ass out of yourself. You look up from your task of piling hay to see Ellie standing proud directly in front of you. Her cocky smirk plastered onto her mouth as she tastefully bites her lip. Ellie isn’t like you. She doesn’t shy away from letting it be known that she’s checking someone out. That is exactly what she does with you right now. Her eyes drink in your curves like a tall glass of water on a hot day. You feel faint within her vicinity which causes you to shy away from her demanding eye contact.

“Hey, Ellie. Beautiful day out, huh? M’ sure the horses are lovin’ the extra sunlight. I know Bessy is.” A cow moos loudly in the distance which causes you to let out a giggle.

Bessy was your favorite thing maybe on the whole entire planet earth. She was the first cow that you helped birth and now you two are attached at the hip. Everyone knew that you and Bessy were best friends, including the very charming cowboy named Abby. Ellie would never admit it outloud, but she was jealous of the close knit relationship that the both of you had. Ellie wanted to be seen the way that Abby was in your eyes. Pot calling the kettle black, she knows, but it's a loop that she’s stuck in. She can’t get your attention, so she plays with other girl’s hearts, you think of her like that is all she’s good for, she sees you with Abby, and the cycle continues. She chuckles at you and nods.

“Yeah, Shimmer was all excited. It was so hard to even get her to stand still.” She laughs at the memory.

“Your girlfriend almost fell off her horse, that's how excited they all were.” Ellie smirks at the flush of your face.

“Abby? Oh we- uh she’s not uh.” You stumble over your words. Did you have feelings for your very strong and beautiful blonde friend? Of course you did, but you will never admit that you are at a crossroads with your feelings. Ellie and Abby make your heart feel whole in two different yet very similar ways and that terrified you.

“I was just fucking with you, pretty lady.” Ellie picks a piece of straw and puts a part in her mouth to chew. You get blindsided by her strong jaw contracting as her mandible and maxilla close for her teeth to collide together. You look away quickly to compose yourself.

“Oh uh I knew that, haha- um anyway, are you gonna go to the spring fling?” You wrung your hands in between each other, your anxiety manifesting physically. Ellie scoffed at the thought of being in a room with too many hypermasculine men and her ex flings in one space fighting for her attention.

“I uh- I don’t know yet. Maybe if a pretty girl like you is going then, maybe.” She smirks and tilts her hat to you. You look up at her with the most heart melting smile. You shake your head and look down to hide your excitement.

“Mhm! I think I might stop by or somethin’, my Mama said I gotta get out more that isn’t just coming to see the animals and Bess. You didn’t need to know that um-” there you go making a fool out of yourself.

Yet, Ellie found your ramblings absolutely adorable. She stood there with her hand on her hip and a sly smile at your overshare. It didn’t escape her that you mentioned Bessy the cow like she wasn’t an animal. She adored the bond you created with that sassy son of a bitch.

“But yeah Abby s’ gonna go n’ she told me to come by so um I’ll be there!” You awkwardly giggled as you looked back up to Ellie. Her smile faltered at the mention of Abby, but she quickly covered it up at the thought of seeing you all dressed up.

“Well then,” Ellie moves closer to you and picks a piece of rouge hay out of your hair, “I guess I’ll be seein’ you later tonight, darlin’. Be good now.” Ellie tilts her hat at you once more as a goodbye and walks back up to the stables, leaving you daydreaming about her auburn hair and beautiful eyes.

You knew that Abby and Ellie had…interesting thoughts about each other. The real mystery is what happened. Apparently before you moved here to Jackson, Abby and Ellie were close friends until they weren’t. You even tried to ask Abby about it, but she would just change the subject with a stone cold face. You didn’t have time to ask Ellie since you spent the better half of your time with her trying not to make a bigger ass of yourself then you already have. You let out a sigh and began finishing up your work for the day. Hopefully you can get through your day without any more distractions.

You finish your tasks pretty quickly after your interaction with Ellie surprisingly. The heat had picked up a bit as the afternoon sun came. You had a thick flannel on that is now discarded while you tend to the chickens. Sweat was dripping from places that you didn’t even know could possibly sweat. The glorious life of a farmer, huh? You giggle to yourself as Stacie, the mama hen, runs over her chicks for some feed.

“Now, now, Stacie, that's not how you treat your babies is it?” A familiar voice is heard from behind you. A wide smile makes its way to your face as you turn around to see your best friend.

“She’s just hungry, Abs. That’s what you look like whenever I cook.” You giggle. You’re finally able to take a good look at Abby and good god…

Abby stood in front of the chicken coop with one beautifully strong arm leaning up against the old wood. Her thumb looped around her belt buckle that sat on top of her oh so very tight work jeans. The denim sculpting her god-like thighs, leaving not much to the imagination. She lets out a chuckle you know all too well and pushes herself off of the entrance.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart, ya know your cookin’ is heavenly.” She smirks and moves to help feed the chickens.

“Lemme take that for ya’ darlin’.” Abby mutters as she takes the heavy bucket of feed from your hands. You look away to try and hide your newfound shyness. Abby smiles to herself thinking about how you’re just too sweet. Her sweet little farmer.

You clear your throat and wring out your fingers in your other hand.

“I uh talked to Ellie earlier…” You all but whispered, nervous about bringing up the girl to your best friend. Abby froze for a second and then continued to finish the bucket of feed.

“Oh yeah?” she answered with a clenched jaw.

“Mhm, n she’s gonna come to the spring fling!” You said excitedly.

Abby tried not to roll her eyes at the idea of the girl being there. She knew you wanted the both of them to get along, but something within her couldn’t let whatever happened go. Abby let out a sigh and put the bucket onto the floor of the coop.

“Ya know I just wanted to go with you, pretty girl. Ya know Ellie n’ I don’t get along like that.” Abby turns her body to you, hands on her hips. You roll your eyes at Abby which visibly makes her more upset.

“Now, don’ be givin’ attitude to me like that, darl. I’d watch yourself if you want to go to this thing.” Abby moved closer to your body, lifting your chin up with her calloused fingers. You gulp as you nod your head.

“Sorry s’ just you know I want you two to get along. Ya’ both mean lots to me.” You pout.

Abby seems to take your apology and lets go of your chin. She leans down and plants a peck on your warm, sun bitten cheek.

“I know you do, darl’, I promise I'll be on my best behavior if she is too, okay?” She smiles kindly at you as a wide smile adorns your face. A small squeal leaves your body that Abby finds endearing.

“Thank you, Abby!” You jump and give her a hug. You couldn’t wait to spend the night with both of your favorite people.

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forthelostones · 1 year ago

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♡ black female reader x ellie williams (part one) ♡

synopsis: ellie is your TA for your english lecture at university and she pulls you aside for revision.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); switch!reader x switch!ellie, teasing, fingering, female cunnilingus, degradation, small boob appreciation, and n!pple play.

an: hi everyone! this is my first idek what this is called when i was coming up "one shot".... (is that even a thing anymore?). i am super nervous about this! but please enjoy x.

wc: 2.2k

PART TWO

It was the last few months at university and you were getting entirely tired of your English lecture. Your professor talked slowly, and quietly, and pointed out the obvious connections within the simple texts. You felt as if you were far too advanced for this 300-level college course. You answered all the questions, understood what the “deep” metaphors were, and made A’s on every paper. The only thing that kept you interested was the TA who graded all those papers. Ellie Williams was a senior English major with a specialty in Print Media. You heard stories about her, glanced at her from a distance, and saw her around but you could never gain the courage to speak to her outside of class.

She sat in the corner, near the lecture podium, with her auburn hair pulled back, and a pencil tucked behind her ear as she looked out onto the hall. She sat slouched with her legs spread open, one foot taping the ground slowly, and the occasional eye roll at a stupid question.

As you sat listening to the room share their perspectives on a Shakespearean text, you took quick glances at her over the corner of your laptop. Today she was wearing a loose, red, long-sleeve shirt, exposing her forearms. Her right arm was adorned with faded black ink that traveled all the way up her shoulder. The warmth that traveled to your cheeks fell between your thighs, as your eyes focused on her fingers that were now swirling that same pencil in a rhythmic motion.

“Have a great weekend.” Your professor nearly shouted startling you.

Your chest caved-in and your eyes bugged outward, you felt a nick of embarrassment hoping no one saw your body jolt. You close your laptop and see Ellie crack a smirk as she walks over to you.

What could she want, you think.

“Sorry y/n, I couldn’t get around to emailing you last night, but Professor said I should help you with your upcoming essay.”

Her low voice echoed in the now empty hall.

“Oh? Really? Sure. I thought my draft was pretty good but—”

“It’s not that you’re being singled out, I have to work with everyone on theirs.” She interjected.

That knot of embarrassment in your chest tightened as you saw no sincerity in her sage eyes.

“It’s last minute but it won’t take long. We can go to the office and work on it a little or we can reschedule, up to you.” She shrugged.

You pause in an attempt to act like you’re thinking. It’s Friday night, you should have something to do, but you don’t. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

You gather all your things and follow behind her into your professor's office, just across the hall. In front of you were the large floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the crowded quad lawn. Students soaking up the sun and lying in the grass chatting with their friends. The other walls were covered in bookshelves with every academic book you could ever imagine. She sat her bag down and pulled out your pristine rough draft, which was now slightly crumbled.

“Hm,” slipped out.

“What?” She asked smugly.

“It’s just my paper was kind of thrown into your bag like… shit.”

“Oh, sorry.” She says attempting to smooth it out by placing it on her chest and using her palms.

She sat next to you in the large armed chair, her knees practically touching yours through her black jeans. Electricity sparked as you came in slight contact with her body. Her hands adjusted to the corners of your paper, her fingers fiddling between each page, spreading them open and moving up and down. You noticed all the notes and corrections she made, the red pen she used scribbled out sentences, rewrote phrases, and small notes on the margins like ‘too wordy’.

“Are you sure this is my paper?” You asked, snatching it from beneath her hands.

“Read it. Y/N, How Shakespeare Altered The English Language.” She read.

“You scribbled out my title too?”

Your hands became damp with nervous anger. You were top of your class, your professors adore your writing and now a TA just a year above tells you how you’re falling short.

“It was boring.” She said plainly.

“Simple language is good. It’s easier for people like you to understand.”

You face her and notice how defined her freckles are. How full her lips are and you unfurl your eyebrows as you realize how close you are to her face.

She snorted. “People like me? You mean the person who grades your shitty papers every other week? Who can absolutely give you any grade I want, that person?”

You stutter in an attempt to get words out, but you know she’s right. She could tank your grades if she wanted to. Her face turns upwards in a challenge.

“So now my papers are shitty? They’re shitty now?”

Your two bodies are now completely turned towards each other, knees touching, and eyes locked. The air becomes thick when she doesn’t reply. Adrenaline rushes to your head quickly, as someone who regularly avoids conflicts this feeling is overwhelming.

“If you read the notes… maybe you would understand. Clearly you don’t have the capacity to even do that.” She smiled.

She thought this was funny, seeing you flustered, in a hard spot where you couldn’t comprehend why you were being judged so harshly.

“I want so see everyone else’s papers.” You asked.

“What?”

“I want to see how much editing you did to others.”

You stand up and grab her bag and run your hands through it, before you could pull anything out, she jumps up and grasps your wrist with surprising strength. Your heart beats violently as her she pulls your hand away from the fabric of her bag. As she shoves you away, the junk falls out onto the floor.

“Really?” She muttered and stuffed her items back inside.

She gave you her signature eye roll and huffed as she ‘reorganized’ her stuff. As she stood up she walks towards you without saying a word. Her eye contact burnt you as they became low with anger.

“Ellie.” You sigh.

You feared that she’d use her strength against you.

“Y/N, there are no other papers,” She smirked. “For someone so smart you can be so dumb.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard her words. You peered over her shoulder, quickly observing the bright windows, afraid to be seen.

Her fingertips wrap around your waist softly, pulling your closer to her hips. Your lips pursed tightly together as you fought to speak.

“So you lied to get me alone?” You asked.

“Can you keep up?” She tugged at you a little more. Naturally, your body resists her touch, but you became so wet at her criticism of your intelligence.

“I can.” You reply sorely.

Her hand slowly rises up your back, tracing your spine.

“The thing is, you always leave class so fast. Rushing out. I never could catch you even if I tried.”

Her fingers do a dance under your shirt and the coolness of them startles you. Then bring her palms down to your ass, which made you moan, surprising the both of you.

“What can I say, I’m busy.” You lie.

You spent your nights in your apartment reading and watching the same movies. Sometimes you’d think of Ellie and recall her face from class if she saw you laying in bed, practically naked.

“Busy? I don’t know if I believe that.” She challenged with a grin.

She unclipped your bra skillfully with one hand. You gasped at the release of tension, you pushed your pelvis against hers, you were so close you felt her chest rise and fall.

“What’s not to believe? I’m top of my class, President of—“

“Don’t care,” She interrupted.

Her lips came one inch from yours and all you could feel is her breath graze your lips. Her eyes jolt down to the valley of your cupids bow, which made her swipe her lips with her tongue.

“I love your lips Y/N.”

“Why don’t you taste them then?”

She leaned closer but did not come in contact, her hands rubbed up towards your loosened bra and came in contact with your hard, brown nipples. She circled around them gently.

“And give you the satisfaction after you insulted my intelligence?” She grimaced.

You pushed her away and clipped your bra back and headed towards the desk to grab your things. She looked surprised as you gather yourself to head for the door. As you bent over the chair, she came behind you and thrust herself onto you. That tattooed hand slithered up your body, to your throat, and pulled you back into her body.

“Do act so coy Y/N. The way you stare at me when I spread my legs open, when my fingers glide against papers, and when I show my arms you can’t help but stare.”

Her hand travels to your pants, undos your button, and dips her fingers into your soaked panties. You gasp at the firmness of her calloused fingertips. You push your ass into her hips and feel her pelvis brush against you, she likes to feel you from this angle.

“So?” You fought to say through moans.

“So, fuck me Y/N. Why do you have to be so stuck up?”

Her fingers traced your slit, plunging deeper into the slick she was responsible for. She pulled her hands out, dripping with your desire, and she raised them to your lips. She took her other hand and grabbed your jaw gently causing your mouth to open. She slipped her fingers in your mouth making you taste yourself. You wrapped your tongue around her thick fingers, unafraid of anyone who could see inside, you felt pure ecstasy of hearing her moans as you fulfilled her fantasy.

You turned around to face her and finally kissed her. Her lips were soft with lust and her tongue slipped quickly into your mouth. She pushed your back into the desk, gripping your thighs to hoist you up on top, her strength shocked you. She wrapped her hands around your hips and pulled you deeper into her mouth. Your hands naturally fell around her waist and unbuckled her belt and desperately reached for her core.

She pulled her shirt up to reveal her bare chest. You always noticed her perky nipples, wondering about her crude disposition against bras, you weren’t complaining though. She forced a nipple in your mouth and commanded you to suck. She grabs the back of your head and pulls you in more. They were the perfect size, smaller, but perfect to suck hands-free. She restrained her moans as your teeth wrapped around her flesh. You can tell she never could give up being in control, the stories confirm that. Always on top, always servicing others, so your image of her was different than the view here.

“What if someone sees?” You ask nervously.

“Windows are shaded from the outside.” She said as she used her arm to clean the desk.

She pushed you back and began to lay warm kisses on your belly. You tuck your hands in her scalp when she gripped your wrist and slams it into the desk. You groan in pain but it excites you.

Her fingers hook into the loops of your jeans and pulls them down. Her hand palms your warm panties and brushes upwards, you try not to show how much you need her, but she presses harder.

“Say it.” She probes.

“What? That I want you?” You ask.

“Say it.”

You don’t reply and she pulls your panties off aggressively and brings her lips to yours. She starts kissing your pussy so passionately you imagine you could cum from that.

She lifts her head, “Watch me.”

The tip of her tongue and dipped it into your crease, searching for your clit. Once she finds it, she takes her fingers and spreads you wide open. Her tongue enters inside of you and your back arches into her. Your body waves up and down from desperation, you know she posses more than she’s leading on. She gets a good rhythm going and feels you dripping down her chin, she stops. Leaving your body twitching from frustration.

You stood up dripping, reaching for her.

“Y/N, say you need me.” She commanded as she was reaching to slip her shirt back on.

“I need you Ellie.” You break.

You dropped to your knees tugging at the waistline of her jeans, pulling them down with her underwear. She was drenched too, so turned on from touching you. You dug your face into her wetness, your tongue meeting her delicious taste, sweet and warm, sliding down your throat. You bring your middle and ring finger to her entrance and she sighs out of pure passion. As you entered her, you felt her fingers gripping your shoulder, and her grunts tickled your brain. You arched your fingers inside of her and worked your tongue around her clit in circles.

“Fuck.” She moaned.

Her panting got deeper, faster, and her nails pinched into your skin. You sucked at her clit to bring her to a climax. As you pulled your fingers out her stickiness strung from her core and straight into your mouth.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #lesbian #ellie williams smut #tlou2 ellie #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #ta!ellie williams #x black fem reader #x black reader

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saviorellie · 2 years ago

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this will do.

pairing : ellie williams x reader

pov : third person , she/her pronouns

word count : 1,282 words

warning(s) : just fluff!!! college!ellie au!!! pinning!!!

notes : I’M ALIVE. yearly rebrand for the new hyperfixation. i need ellie williams desperately. that’s all!

masterlist

“y/n,” was the first word ellie spoke into the phone. “what’s up?”

her backpack was slipping off her shoulder. she just let it fall.

“can i come in?” she asked quietly. there was movement on the other end of the line.

“of course, y/n. you don’t need to ask.”

she didn’t respond.

“i’ll be out in a minute, okay? just got out of the shower- ‘m changing.”

she opened the door to her friend’s dorm room with the spare key ellie had gotten just for her. her space was warm and comforting and smelled of her, smokey and like home. but the tears came anyway.

ellie could feel it because she knows her. and has or ever a decade. but she didn’t expect to find her like this.

on a normal day, she would’ve had her backpack zipped open on the couch, her notebooks and laptop and ridiculous assortment of pens and highlighters and pencils spread out across the table. she would’ve pulled the blinds up and ridiculed ellie for failing to let light into her small apartment. she would’ve been rifling though her bare cabinets, trying and failing to find food to cook her an actual meal so she isn’t just living off of noodles and apple juice and weed. she would’ve glanced up at her best friend with gentle eyes and graced her with an even gentler hug.

but today, in the solitude and darkness of ellie’s apartment, she was sitting folded into herself on the couch.

it was easy for ellie to approach her, it was easy to crouch down and sit on the coffee table in front of her. if was difficult, however, to realize that she was avoiding eye contact. she knew. she was crying.

and there was just silence. ellie waited, watching her form shake while her heart sunk deeper into her chest with every passing second.

then finally, finally, she called out for her.

“ellie…” she whispered, and she was moving.

the couch cushions shifted as she sat next to her, pulling her in. as ellie tucked her head under her chin, her throat swelled with fear; she rarely saw this side of her and wanted nothing more than to take her pain away.

she was the composed one. she saw everything in her life in a positive light, taking things as they were and accepting whatever happened to her. she was compassionate and a great listener and an even better friend. the range of her emotions was about as diverse as one could imagine, but she was so talented in hiding her stresses that at times, even ellie didn’t notice until it built up so high that it just poured out.

here she was, the girl-ellie’s girl-that was always taking care of her and everyone else before herself. her work and her high expectations for herself had reduced to a bleak, discouraged figure in her friend’s embrace.

“angel,” ellie muttered, because she was still crying and her heart felt heavy and sometimes the line between best friend and more blurred and she forgot her place. she didn’t need a lover right now. she needed her best friend.

“i just… i just want to give up. i’m so tired,” she slurred long after ellie had lost track of time. once the tears had ceased and the shaking had subsided.

ellie just closed her eyes, searching for her hand in the dark. it made her so sad that the stress of college and work and bills and just living affected her hard-wired, determined, passionate self. she wanted to take it away and make if feel better. because that’s what she always did for her.

“it’ll be okay. you’ll, we’ll, figure it out. you always do.”

she nodded, just slightly, against her chest.

“i know,” she said. but the defeated sound would not leave her.

ellie didn’t really think through what she was doing as her hand brushed through her hair, brushing it back from her face. she was just exhausted. she needed comfort and ellie was going to give it as best she could.

“you gotta let me take care of you,” she sighed. “you can sleep here, if you want.”

she grunted out a noise of disapproval.

“no,” she muttered, but the softness in her voice betrayed her.

“you’re so stubborn,” ellie shot back and she laughed, just a little. and that was enough.

ellie swiveled on her heel when she heard her shuffling into the kitchen, smiling a bit at her disheveled appearance. it was harder than normal to ignore that she was in love with her on days like this.

she came right over and leaned into her side. naturally, her arm circled ellie’s waist and ellie’s arm rested on top of her shoulders as she peered into the pot she was stirring on the stove.

“what is going on?” she scoffed, because she was making actual food.

what was going on was that she has been serious earlier. about taking care of her.

after she’d fallen asleep earlier, ellie situated her on the couch and piled blankets on top of her because she was freezing all the time. although she didn’t want to chance being gone when she woke up, she didn’t have any food in her apartment and the protective side of her, reserved only for the girl sleeping on her couch, told her that was a problem. weighing her options, she went to the convenience store a couple streets over and grabbed the ingredients her favorite soup called for.

she pulled away from her best friend and hoisted herself up onto the counter next to the stove, leaning her head back on the wooden cabinet. ellie could tell she was thinking, so she left her alone. that is, until she noticed she was watching her.

“what?” she asked gently.

she just stared at her for a second. her beautiful, kind best friend. her auburn hair was falling out her bun and into her face and she had to resist the urge to push it back.

“thank you.”

ellie’s head tilted to the side.

“for what?” she moved a little closer and the girl beside her shrugged.

“i don’t know. it’s just…” she looked down at her lap, shifting on the granite countertop. “I’m still exhausted and overwhelmed and sad, but i know that you’ll be there so… i don’t know. it’s okay.”

she opened her arms lazily in ellie’s direction, the corners of her lips lifting in the slightest manner. so ellie hugged her. and her heart hurt.

then she pulled away, that dangerous thought invading her mind, the idea that the emotion in her eyes when she looked at her was how it felt for her to be in love with her best friend. the idea that she should risk it all and press a kiss to her cheek or forehead and gauge her reaction.

so instead, ellie stirred her soup and sat with her in comfortable silence.

“i love you,” she whispered, playing with the rings on her fingers.

ellie felt her breath hitch. she had said i love you to her before. but this felt different. she just didn’t know if it felt different for her too.

“i… i love you too.” she reached for her hand, running her thumb over the back of it. the silence returned, but ellie was no longer comfortable.

ellie didn’t know if what she felt would ever become reality- being more with her. but she did know that she was never going to stop caring for her and releasing her stress and doing little things to make her smile up at her with the glow she only held in her apartment.

but for now, this is plenty. this is enough. this will do.

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months ago

Note

Since it’s Christmas season, Inexperienced reader felt like being a brat and wanted to test William’s patience with Alex living with them and family coming to visit she decided she wanted to be on the naughty list. She decided her to leave her panties and little pictures of herself and leave in his suite case, car, and his space in the locker room to remind him what’s he’s missing after she’s his good girl but sometimes she’s needs a reminder who’s in charge.

Happy holidays, love! 🥰

To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure how this piece would turn out, but I decided to just go with the flow 🙈🎄 Because, of course, Inexperienced!reader and Willy deserve both a loving and slightly naughty Christmas 😘💋

I hope you enjoy this little chapter, and once again, happy holidays to everyone! Sending you all lots of love ❤️

Tropes & warnings: 18+ smut, Inexperienced!reader x Willy, naughty photoshoot, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, sex toy (magic wand), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside

Word count: 3.8K

➼｡ﾟ

A Nonsense Christmas I Inexperienced!reader x Willy

The sound of holiday classics drifted softly through the apartment as you straightened a sprig of mistletoe over the kitchen threshold. Outside, snow dusted the city, blanketing everything in a hush. Inside, fairy lights twinkled, gifts waited under the tree, and the scent of cinnamon and pine wafted through every room. It was Christmas season—cosy, lovely, and oh so warm. But beneath all that sugary sweetness, you’d decided to stir up something a little spicy.

You’d caught wind of his photoshoot—William’s—just last week. A sleek magazine spread had left your cheeks warm, your heart fluttering, cunt dripping, and a wicked little idea forming in your mind. After over a year together, this was your chance to be a holiday tease, to see what happened when you tested William’s patience in your own cheeky, festive way. You wanted to be his good girl, truly you did, but sometimes a holiday needed a little naughtiness to make it truly memorable.

The apartment you shared with William was a merry chaos this December. Family was due to arrive in a few days—parents, siblings, a few cousins—and Alex, his brother, was already living with you both for a while. The space was full of laughter, good food, and the comfortable bustle of the holidays. But it also meant privacy was scarce, and that made your plan all the more thrilling. If William wanted to stay calm and collected, well, you were about to see just how far you could push him.

You started small. The first surprise was a pair of delicate, lacy red panties, tucked subtly into his training bag before he left for practice. When he opened it to grab a spare hoodie, he’d find that little gift waiting, a silent, provocative message. You imagined his face—slightly flushed, brows raised, that crooked smirk tugging at his lips—wondering what you were up to.

Later that afternoon, while he was gone, you dressed up in a dark green satin robe trimmed with faux white fur at the collar—festive, yet undeniably sensual. Underneath, the lingerie set you’d chosen—a daring dark red number—hugged your curves. You adjusted your phone’s timer and took a few playful selfies in front of the Christmas tree: a suggestive tilt of your hips, a knowing smile, the twinkle of lights across your bare skin. These photos were just for him. The playlist on your phone danced through holiday tunes, and right then, “A Nonsense Christmas” hummed softly, the silly, flirtatious lyrics fuelling your courage. If William’s shoot had inspired you, your own was going to leave him speechless.

You picked the best snapshot, printed it out, and placed it in a tiny envelope adorned with a candy cane sticker. That evening, when you knew he’d head out to his car to pick up Alex from wherever he’d wandered off to, he’d find that photo carefully slipped inside the glove compartment, waiting like a secret treat.

And you didn’t stop there. The next morning, while humming under your breath and sipping cocoa, you snuck into the closet where his game day suit hung. His locker room routine was sacred and placing another little Polaroid—and a pair of black lace panties—tucked inside his jacket pocket would guarantee that when he got to the match, he’d have a reminder of exactly what he was missing at home. It was risky, but that was the point. You wanted him thinking about you while trying to keep a straight face around the guys. Would he blush? Would he grin? You could almost see him pressing his lips together to hide a smirk as he discovered your latest surprise.

By the time the evening rolled around, you’d delivered those three gifts—training bag, car, and suit jacket—and you knew William’s patience was fraying beautifully. His texts had become peppered with suggestive hints and thinly veiled threats like, “Just wait until we’re alone, älskling,” and, “You’re playing with fire.” And when he came home after the third discovery, you caught a glimpse of something dark and wanting in his gaze before Alex burst in from the kitchen, cheerfully oblivious.

That night, after Alex yawned and went to his room, you found yourself finally alone with William in the dim glow of the Christmas tree’s lights in the living room. Your heart fluttered when he approached you, every step controlled, his eyes locked onto yours.

“What,” he asked softly, voice dripping with amusement and frustration, “do you think you’re doing?”

You batted your lashes, feigning innocence. “Spreading holiday cheer?” you offered sweetly. You were again in that festive robe, tied just loosely enough that he could see the barest hint of something lacy beneath. You watched his gaze drop there, then return to your face, a slow grin forming.

“You’re testing me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice low, his accent more pronounced than usual. “First my bag, then the car, and now… the game day suit, really?” His tone was incredulous, but also thrilled. He loved this side of you, the secret part of you that dared to be bold for him.

You shrugged, lips curving. “Just wanted you to remember who you’re coming home to. Maybe I wanted to make sure you keep your head in the game. Maybe I wanted to imagine how you’d look trying not to blush in front of your teammates.”

He stepped closer, catching your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ve been very naughty,” he murmured, and heat pooled in your belly. “Leaving your panties and pictures everywhere—did you think I wouldn’t take my time teaching you a lesson when we’re finally alone?”

Your breath caught, words momentarily failing you. This was exactly what you wanted: the push and pull, the playful tension, the promise of a delightful punishment for your mischief. You arched a brow, still holding onto that last shred of bravado. “Who says I don’t like lessons?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and placed a firm hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I guess we’ll find out.” His breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in, trailing the faintest of kisses along your jaw. “You know what happens to brats at Christmas, don’t you?”

Your heart pounded. “They get coal?” you teased, grinning.

A wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “Oh, you’ll get something better than coal,” he promised softly. “I’m going to remind you exactly who’s in charge here.”

The surge of heat and excitement that washed over you was undeniable. You were craving this; the rush of his reaction, the tender but authoritative way he planned to show you your place in the best possible way. You had learned quickly how to push his buttons—and how gladly he would answer.

Slowly, he guided you further into the shadowed intimacy of the living room, the soft glow of the Christmas tree casting flickering patterns across his face. The faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air, but all you could really focus on was him—his steady grip on your waist, his breath warm against your skin, the way he commanded the space without even trying.

“Better than coal, huh?” you murmured, trying to keep a hint of that playful confidence, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. Your voice sounded breathier than you intended, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

His fingers toyed with the edge of your robe’s sash, knuckles grazing your belly. “Oh, much better,” he assured you, words rolling out in that low, accented purr that made your toes curl. “You’ve been pushing me, älskling. Leaving me those little surprises—in front of my teammates…” His tone turned wry. “Do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face in front of the guys? Making sure they weren’t looking over my shoulder…”

A shiver danced along your spine as you imagined him discovering your naughty gifts, struggling to hide his reaction. The thrill of it surged inside you again. “I just wanted to keep you on your toes,” you said softly, tilting your head back as his body pressed closer.

He hummed, and the sound vibrated through you. “You wanted to fucking taunt me,” he murmured, slipping one finger under the robe’s tie, pulling it loose with languid precision. “To see what I’d do when you kept teasing, kept tempting, kept acting like a brat…” He paused, the robe falling open just enough to show the lacy lingerie underneath. His gaze darkened as it swept over what you’d chosen—something festive, black, so very sheer. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, your breath catching as his fingers skimmed along the curve of your breast, just above the lace. “Maybe,” you whispered. “Depends on what you have planned.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending another rush of heat through your veins. “Such a brave little thing,” he said, tilting your chin up again so that your eyes met his. “Don’t worry. I won’t disappoint you.”

In that gentle light, he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a slow, claiming kiss. His hand slipped lower, curling over your hip, drawing you against his body so you could feel exactly how much your antics had affected him. You gasped into his mouth when he pressed closer, the friction making your head spin, as your hands instinctively grabbed his shoulders.

“Since you wanted to show me what I’m missing,” he murmured between kisses, “it’s only fair I return the favour—show you just what happens when you push me too far.” His breath was hot against your ear now, his voice a low rumble that made your knees weaken. “We have all night. Which means I can take my time.” He let that sink in before trailing his lips along your jaw, down your neck, making you arch into him.

You were trembling, caught somewhere between daring him on and melting under his touch. Your bravado faltered as his hand trailed upward along your thigh, slipping beneath the silky robe to explore the lace edges of your lingerie. Every subtle shift of his body, every quiet hum of approval, reminded you that you were no longer in control—if you ever really had been. You’d handed over the reins the moment you decided to test his patience.

He coaxed your legs apart just enough so he could press closer, each subtle movement deliberate and sure. “So,” he said, voice low, “do you think you’ll be leaving little presents like that again without expecting payback?”

Your heart fluttered wildly as you remembered the naughty photos, the panties hidden away. You thought of his flushed cheeks when he found them, the way he must have scolded himself silently, waiting until the moment he could have you alone like this. “I—” You tried to form a witty comeback, but all that came out was a shaky breath and a quiet moan as he skimmed his fingers lightly against the lace covering your core.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and something warmer—affection, pride, maybe even amusement at how easily he had unravelled you. “That’s what I thought,” he said softly. His thumb stroked over your hipbone, soothing and possessive all at once. “You’re mine tonight, älskling. All mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember exactly what that means.”

He claimed your mouth again, this time deeper, hungrier. The kiss tugged you into a haze of sensation, each slide of his tongue coaxing you away from any clever remark you might have made. A small shrug of his shoulder and your robe slipped free, floating to the floor. William’s soft, appreciating groan told you he enjoyed the view you’d curated just for him—festive, tempting, and just a touch bratty.

Without a word, he then hooked an arm under your thighs and another around your back, lifting you effortlessly. The room spun briefly as he carried you into the bedroom, and in the gentle glow of the holiday lights from down the hall, he tossed you onto the bed. The mattress dipped under your weight, springs sighing softly.

He surveyed you with hungry eyes, your chosen lingerie swiftly becoming a tattered memory scattered on the floor. The lace he’d just ripped away lay abandoned, and you could feel your pulse hammering at the base of your throat, both shocked and thrilled by his boldness. The way he’d smirked, the way he’d said “Oops” without an ounce of regret—it all sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He was completely unapologetic, and that made your stomach flip with excitement.

“Don’t worry, I’ll replace it,” he promised, voice rich and low, like he was thinking of all the ways he could compensate you—maybe with something even skimpier, more luxurious.

Your cheeks warmed at the thought, heart racing as you realised, he was already plotting future moments like this one. His fingers slid over your exposed skin, his touch deliberate and slow, a calculated assault on your senses. His knuckles grazed over your stomach, then dipped along your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast so lightly it made you arch for more. He never rushed, never forced, but he knew exactly where and how to touch you until you were squirming, trying to keep quiet with Alex asleep just down the hall.

The tension of maintaining silence only heightened your arousal. Every time you let out a stifled moan, William’s smirk deepened, satisfied with your struggle. He was taking pleasure in this secret game—knowing he had you at his mercy, that you had no choice but to stifle your cries into the pillows. The illicit thrill of it all tingled through your veins.

When his kisses trailed down your abdomen, each press of his lips and rasp of stubble sending sparks skittering along your nerves, you struggled to keep your breathing steady. He paused at your hipbone, letting his warm breath fan over that sensitive spot, before moving lower. The anticipation tightened in your chest, and when his mouth finally found the slick, heated place between your thighs, you nearly bit through your bottom lip.

He was merciless in the best way—gentle yet relentless, circling your clit with agonizing precision, his tongue working in tandem with a deft finger that simultaneously curled inside you. Your entire body sang with tension, thighs trembling as you tried desperately not to cry out. He played you like an instrument, each lick and stroke tuned to your soft gasps and whimpers. The orgasm built so quickly it shocked you, pleasure cresting like a sudden, rolling wave you couldn’t outrun. You pulled the pillow to cover your face, burying yourself into it and muffling the sharp, desperate sound that escaped as you came. William groaned appreciatively, the vibration making you shudder as you rode out the pulses of ecstasy, gripping the sheets for some sense of grounding.

When he pulled away, your thighs still shook, your breath choppy. A soft whimper of protest escaped you at the loss, and he just chuckled under his breath. It was a dark, amused sound, as if he’d barely begun to play with you and had so much more in store.

So, naturally, he reached over to the bedside table, retrieving something you hadn’t expected tonight—the good old magic wand. Your eyes went wide at the sight of it, fear and excitement tangling in your chest as you realised how easily he could push you over the edge again. Your mouth opened, a little plea escaping before you could stop it.

And he answered you only by pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, an almost tender gesture, before turning on the toy. The soft hum filled your ears, as he moved it to your swollen, sensitive clit. You jerked at the contact; the wand’s vibrations already too intense after your first orgasm.

William kept going, though, eyes fixed on your face as you buried it into the pillow again, desperate to stay quiet. The sensation soared through you at dizzying speed, and in what felt like seconds, another release claimed you—this one sharper, more demanding. You clenched around nothing, toes curling tight, a muffled cry caught in your throat as you came once more. The sheets beneath you were soaked, and you knew it only spurred William on.

As you breathed out heavily, William finally set the wand aside, looking smug as ever, while you tried to catch your breath. Your body hummed with aftershocks, limbs heavy and pliant.

Now it was his turn. As he practically tore and tossed his own clothes aside, your eyes followed down to the bulge straining against his boxers, his desire evident. He stood at the foot of the bed and shed the last bit of fabric in one fluid motion, his cock standing hard and flushed, ready for you. But you knew he wouldn’t just hand it over. He wanted you to work for it—wanted to see that you were just as eager to please him as he was to break your composure.

“Come here,” he said softly, voice holding that firm edge that made your stomach tighten. Still trembling, you moved onto all fours, grateful your arms held you steady after those two overwhelming climaxes. He guided you with a gentle hand in your hair, bringing you close to him.

And instinctively, you opened, hollowed your cheeks and welcomed him into your mouth, determined to make him lose some of that smug control. He groaned low in his throat when you swirled your tongue just right, and you felt a surge of pride at the sound. Each muffled hiss of pleasure was a victory, proof that you could unravel him too.

“Good girl,” he praised, voice roughened by pleasure. That phrase sent warmth spilling through you, made your heart flutter. You knew he loved having you like this, compliant and dedicated, yet still carrying that spark of mischief that had started this whole game.

But then, with a gentle push, he instructed you to turn around, urging you to press your cheek into the pillow, your knees sinking into the mattress as you raised your ass for him. The anticipation was maddening. He knelt behind you, one large hand on your hip, the other skimming down your spine. You let out a quiet gasp when he brushed his thumb over you other entrance, just a hint of pressure that made you whimper. He didn’t push further, only reminding you who held all the cards.

Then, finally, he filled you up with a powerful thrust, claiming you with a sure, steady movement. The fullness made you moan softly, muffled by the pillow. He set a slow rhythm; each inward push followed by a careful withdrawal that left you aching for more. With each roll of his hips, he angled himself just right, brushing sensitive spots that made your vision blur.

Occasionally, he applied a hint more pressure with his thumb against that other, tighter place, not entering. It sent electricity through your nerves, reminding you just how easily he could control your pleasure.

Your muffled cries and soft whimpers were a soundtrack he savoured. He leaned over you, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades, murmuring your name like a prayer. The bed creaked softly beneath you, the scent of sex and the faint pine of the Christmas tree drifting through the apartment. You were both keenly aware that Alex slept down the hall—that, in the morning, family would fill this space with laughter and cheer. But right now, it was just the two of you, lost in this secret, intimate world of desire and trust.

William pressed in deeper, his body trembling with the effort of keeping his pace steady. The world beyond the bedroom door seemed to recede, the faint glow of Christmas lights under the doorframe the only hint of the festive setting outside. In that moment, nothing mattered except the heat of his skin against yours, the glide of sweat at the small of your back, the sounds and scents that wrapped around you both like a secret.

Your cries, half-stifled by the pillow you bit into, were music to his ears. You arched under him, toes curling into the mattress, the duvet bunching beneath your knees. You could feel him shudder, could almost taste how desperately he wanted to let go.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, voice tight, on the edge of control. His grip on your hips tightened, fingertips pressing into your flesh. He angled himself just right, each deep thrust fanning the flames inside you both. You answered with a choked moan, head turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to remain as silent as possible.

He whispered your name once more, voice cracking with need. “Mmm, I’m gonna fucking come,” he groaned, as if confessing a secret sin. You could hear the strain, feel the tension coiling in his muscles as he hovered at the brink. Each ragged breath he took warmed the skin of your back. The slick sound of your bodies meeting and the rich scent of sex filled your senses.

And when he finally surrendered, it was with a shudder that racked his entire frame. He buried himself as deep as he dared, spilling hot and thick inside you, voice reduced to a strangled gasp of relief and pleasure. The force of his climax echoed through you, every aftershock rippling against your quivering muscles. He stayed like that for a heartbeat longer, body slumped, forehead resting between your shoulder blades, his breath hitching as he tried to steady himself.

For a few moments, neither of you moved, too wrapped up in the haze of post-climax bliss. Your heart pounded, your limbs heavy, as you savoured the sensation of being utterly claimed. Then, as the urgency faded to a gentle hum, he withdrew carefully, easing you onto your side. The sudden coolness of the room’s air against your heated skin made you shiver, and he was quick to pull a cover over you both, sealing you together in warmth and comfort.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his voice a soft, affectionate murmur that contrasted with the raw desperation of moments before. Outside this room, the world waited; snow falling silently, Christmas approaching with all its family chaos and bright laughter. But for right now, in the lingering scent of sex, you were two souls bound by secrecy, pleasure, and trust.

A quiet chuckle escaped him, low and fond. He brushed damp hair from your face, fingers lingering in the curve of your jaw. “I love you so fucking much” he whispered, as if afraid to break the spell. “Thanks for all the little surprises.”

You turned, meeting his gaze, the corner of your mouth lifting in a lazy, sated smile. “I love you too, Willy. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

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