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#all i did was. feeling safe and talking a lot. but that was of course not ok
tinytennisskirt · 1 day
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i need more vampire art
more vampire boyfriend! art headcanons with a plot, super simple tied together 💋🍒🥤🧛🏻
warnings: mentions of biting, some slight smut, kissing, mentions of alcohol and marijuana, more plot less headcanon
pt 1 here
- vampire art biting your hand, specifically when you go to cup his face, his teeth against your skin, never piercing, but biting. or when you use a hand, thumb on one side and fingers on the other side of his mouth just to squish his face endearingly and he bites that little place between your thumb and fingers. sharp teeth. cute sharp teeth. like this:
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- vampire boyfriend, so of course he remembers a lot more than he should. simple things, but before he turned you, he was remembering things you did that even you didn’t remember- with ease, too.
- vampire boyfriend who is still gentle when he touches you just because he’s used to thinking he can hurt you. he can’t anymore, or he can try, but it’s hard to. but it doesn’t stop him from being gentle when he kisses you, when his hands slide over your skin. he feels less cold than he used to, but that’s because you’re as cold as him now. you remember the ice of his hands over you and now he feels warm, almost. and you never knew him to be warm, so it’s different but it feels good. and safe.
- you don’t sleep anymore, so losing the comfort of sleeping next to him is tough, but it’s still just as lovely to lay in silence with him because boredom is hard to come by when you’re a vampire. especially a vampire in love.
- when twilight comes out it’s so funny to watch and know. honestly not far off from your reality and you are confident you’re the only people in theatre who are able to relate remotely. you spend the whole time after talking about it and laughing over things.
- when you kiss, you like to bite his lip. he loves!!! it when you do. more than most things. he loves how your teeth feel against the plush of his lips and it’s a weakness, if you weren’t already his weakness as a whole.
- it’s only you, he knows that- it can’t be anyone else, nor would he want it to be. you both can’t die a normal death but it’s good to know he’s all in for until whenever that abnormal ending comes. just how it is. how could you both be almost immortal and waste that on anything else?
- when the sex is good, it’s good. he’s gentle, you’re not, he loves it. mess of teeth and bodies and god- the speeds at which you’d never be able to handle if you were still a regular person. stamina like nothing you’ve ever felt and are the orgasms,.., better? all you know is that it takes a few hours to come down from that sort of high.
- art will continue to buy you flowers, even though they seem to die all the time, but it’s just the way you perceive time that makes it that way. he replaced them the second they start to go so you don’t have dead flowers in your presence ever. he’s always speedy and replaces them for you. it’s a new bouquet every few days.
- vampire art who does the killing for you when desperate and in need of something. animals only. you’re SO twilight for this. ‘vegetarian’ vampires, but he takes care of everything. you miss regular food a lot and sometimes it’s a little upsetting, the way you eat, what you eat- and art is always there to comfort you through any of those periods. he’s sweet, running a hand up and down your back, telling you that you need to do it to keep going and that eventually, you’ll get used to it.
- and he’s like that every time you miss what used to be. he’s there, always, on his knees sometimes just to comfort you, running hands up and down the sides of your legs to comfort you, wide-eyed, crooked grin with those sweet little sharp teeth. he’s there every time you feel low about vampirism. you miss your life, he knows that, he won’t ever dismiss it. he misses it too. more than anything. but you’re in it together and he makes sure you know that. and that he’s sorry. it’s his fault. but you never let him take blame because you wanted this. it was your choice and you’re happy with it, just not all the time. and that’s okay.
- the entry thing is so real. obviously, you’re young forever but at least you’re old enough to go to bars. however, it’s tricky when you have to get in. funny, like a sitcom, asking to go into the bars and clubs when you’ve already been pat down and asked for ID. you and art can’t stop laughing the first time it happens, leaning against each other- the bodyguard guy thinks you’re already drunk. you’re asking to talk to the owner, laughing. only the owner can let you in since the guy lives in the place above the fucking bar.
- or worse, when patrick starts living out of his car early twenties and swears it’s a temporary situation and you both can’t get into his car without asking first. a drive with music turns into a whole ordeal when patrick refuses to give permission saying to just get in. but he lives there, you can’t!
- patrick learns a few months later why. and it’s a shocker but he’s been cracking jokes about it since art turned, so it’s not really that big of a thing. just takes him some time. he wants in on it too.
- you sit in a circle talking and patrick is the only one who can get drunk off of alcohol but you and art found some creative way to feel something, i don’t know what but imagination might work. so you’re tipsy in your own way and you’re talking to him about it and he really wants in. it’s a thought…
- being drunk is fun when you’re a vampire but with patrick around it’s a little dangerous. number one, he’s still human duh! and two, your alternative to alcohol acts the same way wine does… red, dark, lustful. so when you kiss art, the kissing doesn’t stop because you’re into it. so into it. and patrick who was originally minding his business rolling a joint, looks over at you and art kissing on the bed and he can’t take his eyes off of you both. you kiss him with so much force, it’s more than he knows he could take.
- when you take a break from kissing and the conversation starts up, the vibe slowly begins to change. you wipe your lip and grin, sitting a little dazed against the wall. patrick comes and sits on the bed, lights the joint. he asks if sex is better as a vampire, to add to his list of pros in the persuasion list. he thinks it’s going to be fun to be a vampire. and you answer honestly, with a few more details than needed and it gets things rolling and establishes the fact there’s an ask coming from patrick without him saying the words. asking questions, getting closer to actually asking.
- art is yours. he will always be yours. vampire boyfriend! but it doesn’t always need to be just the two of you. and soon, with everything in the room seeming to get hotter and hotter, patrick asks them if they’d still ever fuck a human- given an alternate reality where they aren’t together and art has his answer, technically he had you while you were still human and yeah, in an AU, you’d do it. so he proposes it then. there. and in a few minutes, patrick has art pinned to the bed and they’re kissing.
- you intently watch their mouthes as they kiss. watching. noticing. seeing. and it’s not long before their mouthes get traded out for yours and you and art, vampire boyfriend and girlfriend are sharing patrick tonight. it’s easy, you’re all friends. it’s a good thing patrick likes it rough- with your guards down, it’s easy to get carried away.
- you don’t really talk about it later, but it’s not a taboo topic. it’s been referenced a few times since in good context. patrick, however, can’t get rid of the idea that he wants to be a vampire. you tell him as a friend that he doesn’t want it and it’s not as great as it seems. but he still wants, which is fine. just… not a great idea.
- vampire art has taken up journaling because it might be fun to document the years and you do stumble across his notebook. he took up journaling one month into being with you and it documents everything you’ve been through, his inner thoughts, and it’s filled with words of love and thoughts about you that could come off as poetry. he’s really well-spoken, you knew that, but he was good with written words too.
- he has all these ideas for your future together. saving for a house, getting jobs round the clock for a year and saving for a place of your own out of stanford. talking about the fence- he loves to daydream about it. it’s you and he knows it. he wants everything that he can have with you. kids are now out of the question, but there’s ways. and you’re so young too… with so so so very many years ahead.
- he’s learning to rougher with you, taking what you have to give and adding onto it. his walls are falling down around him and god, he’s good when he’s not obsessively gentle. not to say that isn’t amazing, but change is always fun.
- you get into a fight one night. you’re on the couch and you don’t think art should turn patrick. art wants him to, patrick is his best friend and he knows what he’s getting into. but you tell him that you know patrick thinks it’s all fun and strength, speed, and sex- not considering the fact his future is screwed up. that eventually people would wonder why you aren’t ageing. saying patrick only sees the pros and never the cons. and that turning him might be a mistake. art is opposed, but he hates to offend, so he’s trying his best not to. and you’re distraught. the way you are when you miss being human. and he wants to comfort you, but his position needs to stand. though when you look at him like that he can’t do it. he’s sorry.
- his apologies do mean something. when he says sorry he does what he can to make sure it’s a permanent change. he wants to keep you happy, he never wants you to hate him. he looks at you with his eyes soft and he means what he says when he says things. he’s sorry. you’re sorry too. and you talk about it calmly.
- it’s decided that you talk to patrick again before deciding. so you do. you tell patrick all the negative things and he still wants it, so art makes the plan. and it’s okay. it’s what he wants. it just takes a while to get used to.
- it’s good that the three of you are the same now. the diet he regrets. you told him he would. but the three of you hang out a lot more. tennis is a lot more fun with those accelerated features and it’s fun to watch the boys go. it’s dangerous and exciting.
- art makes almost too much time for you. he worries that you might think he wants more time with patrick, the now-vampire- you didn’t think so. but he’s curled in your lap and he just wants to ‘make up for his time with patrick’ pretty much tenfold. cancelling on patrick, even. just to sit and watch something with you for hours. just to kiss you. he will cancel on everyone for you. shamelessly to them- he tries to keep it from you.
- in those hours that a person would usually sleep, it’s usually spent awake, eyes closed, non-talking. it’s a good time to think and destress and unload all the experiences that no sleep comes with. constantly up, constantly doing something. art respects it, always. if he has something urgent to tell you obviously you wouldnt be ‘asleep’, but it’s never so important. quiet downtime is important and he’s gentle, he would never ruin that.
- he brags about you to anyone who will listen. he’s got a lot of time to brag and he’s going to take every chance possible.
- the plan to work your asses off with multiple jobs a day for a year goes by in no time, and soon enough you have enough for your house. patrick pitches in and takes the basement apartment of the house. and it feels normal. three vampires living life. it’s going to be a long one but you’re in the right place.
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janetbrown711 · 2 days
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If I Fail You
Chapter 2: No More Birthdays
Now fugitives from the celestial realm, MK and his friends and family set out to find the five color stones and save the universe.
Except that he's immediately swept away by his mentor, leaving said friends and family behind, leaving them to wonder and worry about what's wrong with him. Oh, and also climb a volcano with a four-month-old. But that should be easy enough, right? Right...
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Ao3 Link
Pigsy didn’t sleep a single moment the entire ride out of the city to the middle of nowhere, watching MK and Li Na with a tight, anxious feeling in his chest that wouldn’t go away. Even when Tang, Li Na and even MK managed to fall asleep, Pigsy stayed up silently, watching and waiting. Of course, they were never asleep for too long, especially MK, but Pigsy felt it extremely necessary for him to be alert and on guard at all times.
It was something he seemed to share with the Monkey King too, as he also didn't close his eyes for even a second in the vehicle. Of course, it was likely that immortals like him didn't need sleep, but Pigsy could recognize the specific distant look in his eyes any day.
They didn't talk, though. Almost no one ever did, except when Li Na would wake up and everyone would ask if everything was okay and if they needed to stop and yadda yadda. Pigsy appreciated their worry, but Li Na was his responsibility and he could manage just fine. Everyone else needed to just sit back and focus on themselves.
It… wasn't easy though, and sometimes he was tempted to ask someone else to get her to stop crying for five goddamn seconds. But at the same time, he knew she was probably just scared since she hadn't ever really been in a car or car seat before, and to be stuck for hours and hours had to be uncomfortable. Sometimes he thought about just putting her into the carrier again to keep her close and happy, but knew if the car was attacked in any kind of way, she needed to be in the seat. Unfortunately, four-month-olds can't really understand that, so her uncomfortable cries could last for hours, and all Pigsy could do was try and stroke her cheek and remind her of her blanket and wish for the best, shoving his frustration and temperament as far down his throat as possible.
Happy. Safe. Cared for. That's all he wanted for his family, but it just kept getting harder and harder and harder– was it too much to ask for a moment's peace? A day where he wasn't relaxing under false pretenses, but knew for an undeniable fact that everyone was okay and fine? Or would that somehow destroy the world because it was against the rules or whatever? Bah, to hell with the whole thing, honestly. What's the point of it all if things can't ju–
“Pigsy..?” Tang groaned to life from the other side of the car seat. “Hon, you look like you haven't slept a bit.”
“M'fine, Tang. Just have to keep an eye out,” Pigsy was quick to wave off, checking on Li Na as she stretched sleepily under her blanket.
Tang chuckled, reaching a tired hand to Li Na's face and stroking her cheek. “Hi, bao bao… you certainly woke up a lot,” he smiled as she started to whimper. “Got scared, didn't you? Don't worry, we're here, everything is just fine, you're okay with us, Li Na.”
Pigsy hummed before his eyes landed on MK as he too stirred with the sunrise, his head rolling away from Mei’s shoulder.
“Ugh… sunrise already?” his son grumbled, trying to bury his face in Mei’s arm, but Mei shook him off.
“Damn, Monkey Man. Maybe you woke up but not all of us have,” Mei scolded, keeping her eyes shut.
“Rise and shine, everyone! We– uh– have some planning we need to discuss,” Sandy chuckled nervously from the driver's seat.
“Ughhhhhh– curse this stupid universe,” MK groaned, once again trying to bury his head in Mei's arm, but the dragon girl pushed him completely away and onto the window.
“Sorry bud, but he's right, we got some explaining to do,” Wukong sighed.
“Right, yeah. Just one apocalypse after the next,” MK huffed, leaning against the window solemnly, making Pigsy wince.
“But you said there was a way to fix this, right, little man?” Sandy tried his best to lighten the mood.
“Right, yeah, something about… stones? Or something like that?” Mei rubbed her eyes, finally giving up on going back to sleep.
“Five color stones,” the monkey king corrected.
Tang perked up at that. “The stones that the goddess Nuwa used to mend the heavens? I didn’t think they were real!” He looked at Pigsy with such a stupid look of amazement it made the pig chuckle.
“Mhm, they are! They’re just hidden, and guarded, and we have no idea where to find them, aha,” MK laughed nervously.
“What? Not even a little?” Pigsy asked, mostly looking at Wukong, who still stared out his window.
“No–! I mean– it’s fine because we’re just gonna ask someone who does! Nuwa!” MK quickly flipped to a sketch he’d drawn of her earlier.
“Ooo, yeah! She’s totally gotta have a temple we could go to, right?” Mei was instantly on board, though Pigsy still had his skepticism.
“Oh– yeah, at the Burning Mountain.” Wukong finally looked away to give them a smile.
“Wait– what?! Nononono– we’re not going to the burning mountain, not with Li Na, we have to think of anywhere else,” Tang instantly protested.
Wukong gave a glance to the back and shrugged. “Don’t really have a choice here, man. We’re kind of on a time crunch.”
“I-I know that! I just– I don’t need her facing the Fiery Beasts from ‘Past Calamities’ that guard the temple. She’s way too young for ‘trials by fire’– especially literal ones,” Tang looked at Pigsy anxiously.
“Yeah, I gotta say I agree here.” Pigsy glanced down at his daughter, who was reaching her stubby little arms for him. He met her reach with his hand, allowing her to grasp a finger before he looked back to Wukong. “Are you one thousand percent sure there’s no alternative here?”
“Unfortunately yes, I’m sure,” Wukong glanced down at the carrier too, before going back to the window.
“Right, of course,” Pigsy sighed, not sure why/how that managed to make him feel worse since it was exactly what he expected.
“Don’t worry, dad. I can keep her plenty safe,” MK assured with a tired smile.
“No, kid, it’s okay, me and Tang got this, it’ll be okay,” Pigsy gave a similar smile back.
MK nodded slowly before turning back around, meanwhile Tang gave him a long, anxious stare.
Pigsy chewed his cheek, looking down at Li Na instead of his husband. “She’ll be okay,” he whispered. “With your shield and Sandy’s strength, she’ll be okay.”
“Babies aren’t even supposed to be outside in temperatures over 32,” Tang countered.
“Human babies. Demon babies do better in the heat,” Pigsy tried waving off his own anxiety.
Tang gave an unamused look. “You do know she is still half human, right?”
Pigsy’s eye twitched. “Of course I know that, Tang, but do you see a goddamn alternative laying around here? No! So just– stop. I'll find a way to make it work, it’ll be fine,” he whisper-yelled, startling his husband.
“Pigsy–”
“Just stop, Tang. We’ll figure this out. We always have to,” Pigsy closed his eyes, tiredly letting Li Na stick his finger in her mouth.
Tang didn't say anything, which Pigsy let be. However, after a moment the chef was startled when he felt Tang pulling him closer and trying to rest his head on his shoulder.
Pigsy sighed and kissed his head. “We’ll be okay.”
“We’ll be okay,” Tang repeated, nuzzling as close as he could.
Pigsy kept his head atop Tang's for the rest of the ride.
The following hours were filled with chatter from MK and Mei, and a bit of Tang, as they talked and asked for details about the Burning Mountain and how it was different from the Flaming Mountains and such. Pigsy mostly tuned it out, keeping an eye out for any danger, and trying his best to fulfill Li Na's needs when they arose (though everyone agreed even if the world was ending, the car was stopping for diaper changes). She just about screeched in protest every time she was put back into the car seat, and whenever there was a bump in the road, and also whenever Pigsy or Tang’s hand stopped touching her, or whenever she wasn’t picked up for feeding. While incredibly frustrating, it was also probably unequivocally the worst day of the infant's life and she had zero communication skills or coping mechanisms, so she certainly had everyone’s sympathy. Besides, they still had her blanket and after ten minutes, she'd usually tire herself out. Granted, those ten minutes could feel like an eternity to the rest of the passengers, but it wasn't like there was anything they could do.
After about three hours, they arrived at the flaming mountain and Li Na was back in the carrier with Pigsy, to everyone’s relief.
However, the relief was short lived, as the Flaming Mountain certainly lived up to its name, while also having a shit ton of winding and perilous staircases to boot.
“I think my ankles hurt just looking at this thing,” Tang joked, elbowing Pigsy to try and get him to laugh too, but the pit in Pigsy’s stomach was far too deep for that.
“We’re seriously going to have to climb all that? Noooooooooooooooo,” MK groaned, slumping his head down.
“Bah, ‘Ol Alpine’ Sandy is good to go!” Sandy grinned, pulling out some of his rock climbing gear from his “emergency adventure” backpack. “We’ll be at the top in no time!”
“You know, I think there’s someone you’re forgettin’ here,” Pigsy sniped, making Sandy blush with embarrassment.
“Actually– that gives me an idea,” Tang snapped his fingers, summoning (and promptly spinning around) his khakkhara.
Pigsy sighed a massive breath of relief, glad his daughter wouldn’t actually have to face all that fire and lava. However, the feeling was incredibly short lived when he saw Wukong grab the staff with a guilty expression on his face.
“Yeahhhhhh, um, that’s gonna be a no-go, jangles,” he grimaced. “We can’t have that kind of big mystic energy or else–” “–Or else it’ll count as cheating! And we can’t fail the Trial By Fire!” MK interrupted, looking at the mountain with intensity.
“Wha– Kid, I’m pretty sure the ‘Trial By Fire’ is just a metaphor really, I’m sure the mountain ain’t testing you, right guys?” Pigsy glanced around the group, each having varied levels of one-sound responses.
“Yeah, gotta agree, bud. There’s no trial, we just can’t use magic because Li Jing will track us,” Wukong explained fully, glancing at Pigsy briefly.
Great.
“No matter, this mountain is going down,” MK shook his fist at it with determination.
Before Pigsy could even chuckle, Wukong wrapped his tail around his son and picked him up. “Or we’re going up! Catch ya at the top!” The monkey cheered, summoning his cloud and flying off.
“Wait–! MK–!” Pigsy called, but they were already nothing more than a blip on the horizon.
“Man, c'mon! Why doesn't his stupid cloud count as magic?” Mei kicked a rock and crossed her arms.
“Well, technically it's more of a ‘technique’ than a spell– plus the cloud is more like a kind of companion? I don't know– everything gets so mixed up with him,” Tang shook his head.
“UGH, fine, I guess we’re taking the hard way without MK, whatever,” Mei huffed and started going to the mountain.
Pigsy was going to follow, but his feet were suddenly glued to the ground as his eyes fell down to his daughter, who was looking up at him with big, innocent, helpless eyes.
“Pigsy? Everything alright?” Tang noticed his stance.
“No, I-I… I can’t take her, I can't climb that good, but we need to go after MK– Sandy,” Pigsy immediately turned to his friend, who looked down in confusion. “Sandy, you need to take her.”
“Oh-! Are you sure? She seems pretty cozy,” Sandy asked, smile soft and encouraging (or was at least supposed to be).
“You got more experience with this stuff, you can keep her safe,” Pigsy instantly nodded.
Sandy’s smile melted before he nodded and quickly got out a blanket from his backpack to use as a wrap while Pigsy removed his daughter from the carrier. This confused the infant, who instantly started squirming and whining, trying to grab Pigsy’s shirt with her tiny fists.
“Hey, it’s okay, you’re just going with your yifu Sandy, it’s okay,” Pigsy tried assuring, but she still kept reaching and wriggling until Sandy was ready for her and the trade off was made– to which she started crying.
“Aw, hey now, it’s okay Little Piggy, good ol’ Sandy's got you,” the river demon assured, carefully wrapping her nice and snug to his chest, where she still protested, although less. Mo seemed to notice her upset mood and tried tapping her with a paw, but it didn’t help much either as she still kicked and cried.
The scene made Pigsy's chest tighten, but he shoved those feelings deep down in favor of putting his carrier in the diaper bag so they could get moving.
“Pigsy, are you sure you’re okay with this?” Tang whispered, grabbing Pigsy’s arm.
“Yes. We have to go after MK, and Sandy’s plenty capable,” Pigsy argued, glancing as the demon in question started stroking Li Na’s forehead as the cries turned to whimpers as she looked up at him.
Tang looked too. “Alright… if you’re sure, I am too.”
Pigsy’s chest tightened further, but he took his husband’s hand and started up the steps anyways, Sandy following and Mei quickly taking the lead.
After a quarter of the way into the first staircase, Sandy managed to finally soothe Li Na enough to stop crying, which was a huge relief. However, all two seconds of silence was apparently too much for Mei, as she felt the need to start complaining.
“Man… Stupid Wukong powers– ‘non-mystical clouds’– that’s total bullshit,” she puffed, kicking the step in front of her.
“You’re telling me,” Tang huffed, already starting to wince at each step on his left foot.
Pigsy chuckled and gave his husband a glance. However, that was a mistake if ever there was one, because the moment Tang noticed, he immediately hammed it up.
“Pigsy, darling, would you mind carrying me the rest of these steps?” His husband batted his eyelashes.
“In your dreams,” Pigsy rolled his eyes, trying to keep his eyes forward.
“Awww, c'mon, don't you looooove me?” Tang continued, wrapping his arm around Pigsy's.
“Keep this up and we'll see,” The chef gave Tang's arm a pat, making the scholar quickly swipe it away.
“Well, I never– we have a baby together and this is how you treat me? Oh my breaking heart,” Tang swooned dramatically.
“Oh, you mean the baby I had to carry for eight and a half months?” Pigsy raised an eyebrow. “What, you think that wasn't good enough and now I gotta carry you too?”
“Wha–? I don't mean it like that, I just– you know– with the–” Tang sputtered, meanwhile Mei cackled with laughter ahead.
Tang huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “Having fun now, are you?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Mei grinned, spinning around and climbing the stairs backwards. “Your gross couple banter turned roasting is much more entertaining than thinking about how stupid it is Wukong just zipped MK up the mountain.”
“Hey now, hiking can be a very meditative form of exercise,” Sandy spoke up from the back.
All three other hikers gave him a look.
“...Okay, it might not be for everyone– but still! Introspection and being in nature is a good thing that can help us reconnect with ourselves,” Sandy argued.
“Rrrright,” Mei turned back around. “Well if that's true then it's a damn shame MK's missing out on all this introspection then.”
“Now that I agree with,” Sandy said, his tone making Pigsy's ears perk a little.
“What do you mean?” Pigsy glanced back.
Sandy looked away, seeming a tad embarrassed. “Well, I mean– I just think the kid needs a break, you know? Like we talked about,” he scratched his neck, and Mo meowed in agreement from his shoulder.
“Oh, right, yeah– he wasn't actually sleeping when we were all hanging, was he?” Mei asked.
“No, probably not,” Pigsy sighed and closed his eyes briefly.
“Yeesh…” Mei winced. “He's really been working himself to the bone lately, hasn't he?”
“Oh yeah.” Pigsy bit his cheek.
“But it'll be alright, we'll get the universe in tip-top shape in no time,” Sandy smiled empathetically. “Then he can get all the rest he needs.”
“Unless the universe throws another disaster our way,” Tang muttered.
“Hey now, let's try and think positively here. Once we get the stones and fix the universe, everything will be just fine,” Sandy encouraged, making Pigsy grunt out of habitual disgust. The chef could feel his friends gaze on the back of his neck, but the pig ignored it in favor of continuing up the never-ending steps.
“Well… uh… anyways… anyone know any hiking games we can play, or something to pass the time? This is… a lot of stairs,” Mei said, reality probably starting to hit her.
“Oh, I know plenty! We can do I Spy, 100 Bottles of Beer, 20 questions, bird watching, the alphabet game, or some kind of memory game!” Sandy cheered, making Pigsy ponder if throwing himself into lava would be less painful.
However, the pig kept his mouth shut since it was at the very least a distraction from worrying about MK. Plus, Li Na seemed to be having fun with it too, laughing along with every song or silly voice Sandy did. Despite his begrudgingly acceptance though, he felt overwhelmed with relief when they finally reached the first tread in the staircase and they could all rest a moment.
“Oh… my god… I think my legs… are gonna fall off,” Mei wheeled before she collapsed to the ground. “How many more staircases do we got?”
“Trust me, Mei, you don't wanna know,” Tang warned, sitting down with a wince.
Pigsy noticed that and immediately took action to start massaging Tang's ankles, which got him a pained smile in return.
“Haha… yeah… we got a long day ahead of us, but pacing ourselves is everything! So we're gonna take a nice, long break to drink some water, eat some granola, and take it easy,” Sandy instructed, removing his massive backpack while Li Na started to wiggle and whine. “Ope-! Right after we get this little one settled too.”
Pigsy naturally perked up, watching carefully as Sandy undid his wrap and freed the now crying infant. Pigsy now recognized it was her hungry cry, and so instantly got out her bottle and formula– before realizing he had no water or way to heat it up safely. Granted, it didn't have to be warm, but Li Na was in a phase right now where she refused it cold or even room temperature. Then again, this place was boiling hot, so… maybe it would work..?
“Oh dip, snack time?” Mei asked the frozen pig.
“Y-yeah, I just– um…” Pigsy stared down at his hands.
“Oh-! Here, I can make it for you if we trade,” Sandy offered, and they swapped almost instantly.
“Hey, hey, it's okay Li Na, it's okay– I know it's hot and you're hungry– but we have milk, you'll be okay,” Pigsy tried shushing her, which seemed to actually work, her little body relaxing ever-so-slightly against Pigsy's chest.
Tang hummed with a tired smile behind him, resting his head on his husband's shoulder before stroking Li Na's cheek.
“Oughhhh, you guys are so stupid cute– even when she's crying! How is this even legal?” Mei doted on her.
Sandy chuckled. “Maybe one day you'll have one of your own and maybe then it'll be fair,” he said, measuring the powder with the scoop while Mo made his way over to the girl.
“But right now it's not! And MK's not even here–” Mei suddenly stopped herself and started petting Mo. “It’s not fair.”
Pigsy winced at the mention of MK, which made Tang sit up. “You feeling okay, hon?”
“M'fine, just–” Pigsy sighed. “I'm just tired.”
Sandy gave his friend a look of pity before offering the bottle. “This will help her stop at least.”
Pigsy took it, despite accurately predicting Li Na wouldn't like it, kicking it away and wailing loudly in protest.
“What? Is she not hungry?” Tang asked, making Pigsy's eye twitch.
“Of course she's hungry, Tang, it just ain’t warm enough for her,” he sighed heavily.
Tang gave an exasperated sigh as well. “As if being on a flaming mountain isn’t good enough for her.”
“Oh, well– I, uh… I might be able to warm it up, if you want,” Mei offered, still stroking Mo’s chin as he purred.
Pigsy bit his cheek, uncertain but ultimately deciding it was worth a shot before handing the bottle over. The girl took the bottle in one hand, trying to start a fire in the other. However, it didn’t seem to be working for once, causing Mei’s frustration to rise with each failed snap.
“C’mon stupid flame, just fucking light already,” she cursed, making Pigsy and Tang exchange a glance.
Sandy sensed the tension “Mei, you don’t have to do this, I’m sure we can think of something else–”
“No! I can do this! I just gotta–” Mei snapped her fingers once again, and this time a massive green flame shot up. “Shit–!” She cursed, instantly dropping the bottle to the ground (thankfully causing the flame to die out too). “S-sorry– sorry, I can do it– I have it all under control, it’s fine, I just–”
“Mei, it’s okay, we can figure something else out,” Sandy insisted, but Mei just picked up the bottle and started walking up the stairs again to a nearby stream of lava.
“Mei–! Wait! Be careful!” Tang instantly stood and called out to her, but the girl didn’t listen, continuing to walk until she was barely away from the melted rock, where she simply crouched down and held the bottle above.
Pigsy stayed sitting on the ground, semi-trapped by the still-screaming infant in his arms, but he watched with an immense hollow feeling in his chest. Mei was in trouble, MK was in trouble, Li Na was in trouble– but again there wasn’t a single thing he could do– why did he call himself a dad again?
Mei came back in not too long– though she smelt a lot more like smoke and had soot stains all over her white jeans, but she still handed over the bottle with a nearly uncanny grin. “Here you go, Piggy.”
Pigsy looked at her. “Mei, what is this? What are you doing?”
Mei scoffed. “What are any of us doing? Climbing a stupid mountain to get to MK,” she retorted, crossing her arms and looking up, while Pigsy just shook his head and tried cleaning off the bottle before finally giving it to Li Na.
However, the head shake just set her off again. “Ugh, we're going too slow– I have to get to MK before something happens. I'll catch you at the top,” Mei waved them off and bounded up the stairs once more.
“Mei, hold on–” Sandy quickly grabbed his bag once more and went to go after her, before seeming to remember there were other people there.
He looked at them, then back up at the stairs, before backing down. “She just needs some space for now, I'm sure,” he said, though Pigsy wasn't sure his friend actually believed that.
“This is… really bad, isn't it?” Tang laughed nervously, looking at both the chef and Sandy.
“We can fix this, I know we can. We just… need to get up this mountain,” Sandy's cheerful disposition faltered ever-so-slightly.
“And then what?” Pigsy scoffed. “For all we know, Mei's right and while we're stuck here some destiny bullshit is happening. Hell, by the time we get there, I bet MK is just going to be even worse,” he spat, looking away bitterly.
“Pigsy–” Tang tried placing a hand on his shoulder, but the chef shook it away– which he instantly regretted when it made Li Na whine.
“Sorry, sorry– I just–...” Pigsy glanced at Tang before closing his eyes. “I know there's nothing we can't get through together… but when his ‘destiny’ or mentor keeps isolatin’ him, I just… I just don't know what to do,” Pigsy looked at Li Na tiredly.
Tang knelt and pressed a kiss on Pigsy's forehead. “I know how you feel, hon– it's terrifying and I just– I hate it so much.”
Pigsy sighed, nuzzling his head against Tang's chest before his husband wrapped him into a soft hug.
“Self isolation is a nasty habit for sure,” Sandy looked at and quickly scooped Mo back up again. “It’s not going to be easy to combat it… but with work I know we can get through to him.”
“Always the optimist,” Pigsy snorted weakly.
Sandy chuckled a little. “Someone has to be.”
Pigsy couldn’t argue with that, swapping the now empty bottle with a towel to burp Li Na, before glancing back up the steps, where he could see Mei stomping around.
“You should go to her, Sandy,” he spoke up, but his friend shook his head.
“We need to plan what to do about MK together– she's his family too,” Sandy said.
“She's just as much a kid as MK, she doesn't need all that pressure either,” Pigsy argued.
“She's his best friend, Pigsy. She's going to worry and want to do something no matter what,” Sandy gave the pig a look so tender it actually made the chef want to cry.
“W-well, um… either way, I don't like the kid bein’ by herself and I'm just holding you back, so, you know...” Pigsy sniffled, trying not to dwell.
“Oh, c'mon, don't be like that honey,” Tang rubbed his arm. “We’re all a team here, whether they know it or not.”
Pigsy nodded, ultimately agreeing with the sentiment. “Sorry, yeah, I just–”
“I know, hon. You’re okay,” Tang kissed his cheek.
The chef smiled.
Once Li Na was all burped and settled, she was wrapped back into Sandy's carrier, which she again protested. Thankfully though, all that eating must've tired her out as she fell asleep by the time they saw Mei halfway across a rope suspension bridge.
“Mei! Wait right there!” Sandy instantly called out, an unusual panic in his voice that made the other two adults pause before rushing with him.
Mei turned around, seeming annoyed more than anything. “Took you slow pokes long enough. C’mon, we gotta get going–”
“Mei, wait, that bridge isn't safe and you don’t have the right equipment or anything! You need to take it slow–”
“Sorry, but I'm actually trying to reach MK before my retirement,” Mei rolled her eyes and continued onward, not noticing how the bridge slanted a notable amount to the right, nor how some parts of the rope were frayed or how it was over a massive chasm or–
“Mei, are you trying to get yourself killed too?!” Pigsy shouted at her, running to the bridge’s start.
“I'm trying to get back to MK before it's too late, unlike you slowpokes,” Mei mumbled that last part, continuing forward until a loud CRACK broke through the mountain and Mei let out a shriek– the plank underneath her foot snapping in half and causing her to fall halfway before she managed to just barely catch the bottom rope.
“MEI!” All three of them shouted, Pigsy summoning his rake without even thinking and racing to her aid (ignoring Tang's loud sputtering protests and confusion).
“Pigsy! Y-your rake-! What if that counts as magic?! We can't be tracked!” Mei worried.
“Jesus– I don't fucking care! I'm not losing any of my goddamn kids! Just grab on,” Pigsy instructed, not comprehending how that could even be on her mind right now. Thankfully, Mei did still have enough sense to do as she was told and Pigsy pulled her back up on the bridge– though was quickly startled when Mei suddenly latched onto him and wouldn't let go.
“Woah, hey now, it's okay, kid. I got you.” Pigsy hugged her right back, his rake disappearing once more.
“P-piggy, I'm so sorry– I don't know what I was thinking– I–” Mei started to cry.
“Hey, it's okay, I got you, Mei, I got you. We'll make it across, everything’s okay,” Pigsy assured, finally looking back at his husband and best friend, who both looked like they just had the biggest heart attacks of their lives.
Once Sandy noticed Pigsy looking at him, he shook off his shock though, sighing a breath of relief before clearing his throat. “Right– okay– you two need to stay to the left of the bridge, alright? And watch out for creaking or too much rocking– take it nice and even!” Sandy instructed, and Pigsy nodded.
“You okay to stand?” he then asked the still trembling girl, who shook her head.
“I-I'm sorry Piggy, I'm sorry,” she kept crying.
“Hey, it's okay– we can talk on the other side, okay? I got you, everything'll be alright.” Pigsy gave a squeeze for emphasis and eventually Mei nodded and slowly let go. However, the second Pigsy was up and standing again, Mei held his hand tight. The chef didn't mind, though, letting her hold on as they followed Sandy's instruction until they were back on solid ground and waiting for the others to cross.
The pair didn't speak while they waited, though Mei wrapped her arms around one of his and buried her head in his shoulder. Pigsy did his best to try and comfort her, though was constantly watching and worrying for Tang, Sandy, Mo, and Li Na.
Thankfully, everyone made it just fine– though the second Tang was across he grabbed Mei's shoulders and started shaking her.
“Long Xiaojiao, don't ever do that again!” he ordered before squeezing the daylights out of her.
“I-I'm sorry Mr. Tang, I-I don't know– I'm so scared– MK– he isn't acting right– h-he–”
Tang hugged her tighter. “I know– god, I know… but what can we do?” Tang asked, eventually letting go and looking to Sandy, meanwhile Mei reattached herself to Pigsy's arm.
“Hey now, it's not too late, MK is still with us. We have time,” Sandy assured as he unwrapped his carrier once again, passing over the anxious infant to Tang, who rocked her.
“Yeah, but– but how much?” Pigsy glanced at Mei, who squeezed his arm tighter, burying her head.
Sandy had to think for a moment, which didn't make Pigsy feel any better.
“Look… it's not going to be easy, but MK is still here, we just have to keep assuring him we're here too. Even if it seems like fate or the universe is trying to pull us apart, we have to let him know we aren't going anywhere and– and that he means so much to us a-and–” Sandy started to get choked up, which made Mo start to purr and rub his head against Sandy's. “Right– right, sorry–”
“Sandy, it's okay, you can be scared too,” Pigsy assured, receiving a tearful smile of gratitude in response.
“R-right– well–” Sandy tried clearing his throat as a few tears fell quickly down his cheeks. “Well first, we'll make it up the mountain and help MK with anything he may need. After that, we'll be back in the truck for the second stone, and rest up. We don't want to pile too much on him too soon, but getting in some praise and affection would be good, I think,” he sniffled.
“But will it be enough?” Mei asked quietly.
“...I'll have a one-on-one meditation session with him tomorrow– try to teach him mindfulness and try to pass on wisdom about fighting inner demons. It’ll help him know he’s not alone,” Sandy nodded to himself.
“MK kinda hates meditation though– part of the ol’ ADHD thing,” Mei pointed out, fidgeting with Pigsy’s shirt sleeve.
“I know, but–... but I think with time and effort I could really get through to him,” the river demon tried to sound confident, but when Mei didn’t seem any more assured, he sighed. “I know how bad– how helpless it feels to watch someone go through this… but I know that Pigsy and Tang are right– there is nothing we can't fix together.”
“What about after the meditation?” Mei asked again. “What do we do then? H-how can we– can we make sure he doesn't– you know–”
Sandy smiled softly. “We just continue loving him the best we can, Mei, that's all we can do– until we find a trained professional for him, that is.”
“Right… right, okay,” The dragon girl sniffled, glancing up at Pigsy for reassurance, to which the demon kissed her head.
“We're gonna make that kid feel so fucking loved he won't know what hit ‘im,” the chef joked a little too.
“And we'll also make sure to take care of ourselves in the meantime too,” Tang added, and Mei instantly nodded.
“R-right– I know, I'm so sorry– I didn't mean to– I just–”
“We know, kiddo, just don't scare us like that again.” Pigsy moved to wrap his arm around the girl's shoulders.
Mei’s eyes went to the ground. “I mean... I didn't– I know you've said it before, but… I didn't think you actually thought of me like I’m your kid,” she chuckled weakly.
“What can I say? We're huge saps,” Pigsy chuckled too and gave her another tight squeeze.
Mei snorted, nuzzling closer as she did.
“And– uh– for the record, I– um… I’m very fond of you too, Mei,” Sandy added, making Mei finally break the embrace to give Sandy a hug of his own.
“I love you too, ya big ol’ teddy bear,” Mei said, causing the river demon to laugh and embrace her back.
Pigsy could see his friend was on the verge of crying again, but he didn’t say anything and instead made his way closer to Tang before asking how he and Li Na were holding up.
“Oh, you know… little sore, little exhausted, but a little better, too,” Tang chuckled nervously while Li Na grasped her baba’s thumb.
“You thinkin’ you’ll be able to make it up the rest of the mountain? It’s a long way to go still,” Pigsy asked.
“Are you offering to carry me?” Tang batted his eyelashes.
Pigsy rolled his eyes and pushed him away playfully. “Not if you keep doing that.”
The scholar laughed, though it didn’t last too long. At first Pigsy just assumed he was tired, but his eyes had an intense focus on Li Na before he suddenly asked–
“Pigsy?”
The chef straightened up. “Yes?”
“Tell me everyone’s going to end okay– that MK, and Mei, a-and Li Na are going to be alright.”
Pigsy’s heart melted. “MK, Mei, and Li Na are gonna be just fine, Tangy–”
“Promise me.” Tang looked at him.
Pigsy hesitated, glancing at Sandy, then Mei, then Li Na before going back to his husband.
“I… I promise, Tang. Everyone’s gonna go home just right,” he said, placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
Tang’s face relaxed into a tired and slightly goofy smile. “Thanks, hon. I-I just– thank you.”
Pigsy smiled and kissed his cheek, before turning to the others. “We ready to get going?”
“Oh-! Yeah! Don’t wanna leave him hanging for too long” Mei immediately bounced up, and once Li Na was back and wrapped up with Sandy, they started making their way up the mountain once more.
The hike ended up lasting until just about sunset, and with Pigsy having to carry Tang for a little over half the distance because of his weak ankles. It wasn’t great for the pig demon’s back by any means, but Sandy was already carrying his massive hiking emergency bag, Mo, and Li Na, so he sucked it up. It was also better than even entertaining the thought of leaving his husband behind, so while it was difficult, he endured knowing it would be worth it.
…Which was why when Wukong grabbed MK and immediately flew away again the second the group reached the top, Pigsy felt angry enough to tear the immortal limb-from-limb.
It wasn’t helped that from the brief moment Pigsy actually saw his son, there was this… this cloudiness behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was new– it had to have been new– Pigsy wouldn’t have missed it if it had been there at the restaurant or in the van–
Something bad happened to his son while he was out of reach.
“Well… uh… back down we go, I guess, huh?” Tang tried to lighten the mood, elbowing Pigsy to try and get him to join in.
Pigsy didn’t have it in him, though. Instead, he stared at Sandy, starting a silent conversation.
He’s worse, the chef’s eyes said.
I know.Sandy looked back with pity.
Why does this keep happening?
I don’t know.
Why can’t he just be okay? Why can’t he stay with us?
I don’t know that either, Pigsy. But we’re sticking to our plan as a team, no matter what. We'll figure this out.
Pigsy took a deep breath and nodded.
Right. You’re right.
Sandy smiled weakly. Of course I am. Let’s get going. Can’t leave him alone for too long.
“Right… right. Let’s get going,” Pigsy said, and after scooping Tang up once more, they started down the mountain again with equal parts worry and determination to fix what was wrong as a team.
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starbuck · 7 months
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OH MY GOD I THINK I’M HAVING A TRAUMA RESPONSE
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starlingskulls · 9 months
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they're at mad at me island i should cvt
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kinda really sucks that i've been made to feel so obnoxious and wrong that i just can't really talk about anything myself unless i'm asked something
#but hey that's what happens when everything you've done that felt safe and ok#kinda never was and you were told you only talk of 1 thing and don't care about anything else#but then now i'm told i'm apparently missed and it's missed when i used to talk freely about stuff#and i can't believe that. even if i try my hardest to#i know i can't do that and i know if i let go of my constraints and talk with no restrictions i'll be told off again#and if not then i won't be told it's not ok and i won't be told it's too much#and i'll be doing harm without realizing it#but that's what i deserve for not putting others before myself#i guess. sort of. went back to knowing that whatever i want or feel doesn't matter#so that's fine i suppose. i can still live and move on sort of#so. it's whatever. i'll be asked and i'll be talked to if i'm wanted or needed#whatever it is i do out of my own initiative or interest won't be welcome and that's ok too#as long as i keep finding happiness myself in something then. ok#kinda sucks to be hurt deeply and then blamed for reacting a certain way too#being told 'i'm hurt now' kinda fucking sucks. because i never wanted this to begin with#all i did was. feeling safe and talking a lot. but that was of course not ok#and god knows how not ok that had been. for how much time. and i wasn't told#now it's become extremely sensitive and i require 100% transparency on whatever happens or i feel insanely bad#like my chest just gives up. and i'm capable of being made guilty even when i'm honest about this too#so i think i'm kind of tired and i really don't know what else to do. and i don't feel like talking#but i'm still here. and i realize i don't feel anger or hatred or anything like it. there's just. kinda nothing#but if i'm asked or talked to i feel good and i feel ok#but because of my hurt i've become less reliable on that and i'm not believed when i say i still treasure it a lot#and despite being hurt i don't want to be isolated. it's just that i can't trust again#but oh well right. i apparently caused all this and caused my personality to completely change#so it's all on me i suppose
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sakuravalelp · 3 months
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The Dance Academy isn't a gang- DC X DP Prompt
Inspired by this prompt
Clockwork suggests to Danny, who's been the king of the infinite realms for 6 years now, that he should take sometime off in a mortal realm. He doesn't feel like going back to his own dimension (you choose the reason), so Clockwork suggest another dimension where he thinks Danny might have fun.
Danny investigates the dimension, and finds it is a dimension where some humans, who are called meta-humans, develop powers, mostly during their childhood. Danny knows how tiring and alienating it is to grow with powers that one have to hide. He wishes to give this kids a safe space to experiment with their powers, but not as a weapon, just as part of themself.
He chooses to create a dance academy, because dancing is something in which you use your body and express yourself. It would be an excellent way to encourage this kids to use their powers while enjoying themself. He decides to open the dance academy in Gotham, were it seems metas may feel more pressure to keep themself hidden. With his ability to see and feel the differences in soul it's easy to identify metas, so he starts scouting kids for the academy.
Of course convincing the kids that it's just a a dance academy that wants to create a save space for metas, instead is of a trafficking ring, is difficult. But once he gets the first couple kids in, slowly more come too.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Bruce is worried about the new possible meta gang that it's forming on Gotham, and sends Duke undercover.
It's hasn't been long since Duke joined the bats, and this is his first official undercover mission. He's excited at the start, feeling proud that he's been trusted with an independent job, but then he finds out that the "gang" it's just a dance academy. He's a little disappointed, thinking that this job is more of a probation thing than anything, since there isn't anything suspicious.
The bats tell him to stay in the dance academy, because maybe the dance thing is just a cover up and they'll reveal their real motives when he's actually accepted in the group. And Duke takes it as them wanting him to have a meta support system. See? He's learning to understand how the bats show love to each other!
Duke finds himself enjoying being in a dance group. It's a lot of fun. Danny it's fantastic, he has a lot of powers and isn't scare to show them. Which makes everyone in the group feel so much safer to use their own.
Danny encourages them to integrate their powers in their dance. It's freeing. Their powers are treated as a normal part of them, and not as this exotic ability that has to be controlled. It's such a safe space that all of them have gotten used to using their powers for day to day stuff when in the dance studio. It all feels so casual because no one bats an eye to it. There's no talk about how they should try to do things "normally," or limit their use of their power.
Danny: "Why would you? That's your normal, and this place is safe for you to just be you."
Duke realizes a bit late that the bats were actually suspicious of the group, and that his placement there wasn't really a probation. He's glad to know he was actually trusted with a job, but, he had really thought that every time they had asked about his day with the group was because they were interested in how he was doing. That they were showing love and interest in him in that evasive ways the bats did, and it kinda suck to know it wasn't the case. It also meant that he had to confront their family in their clear meta-discrimination.
"Would you have been so suspicious if it wasn't a meta group? No. Other than them all being metas there wasn't anything off. No proof of fights, no proof of robberies, no proof of trafficking, nothing.
There's no proof of anything other than a group of teens dancing, and you know that because you checked it out before sending me.
Like, I don't blame you for checking it, I'm not naive, but you were so sure it was a gang, just because they were metas. That's fucked up guys."
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00kittenz · 22 days
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── desperation. ( psh ) 📠
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pair: boss!sunghoon ㅊ employee!f!reader | warnings: smut, secret relationship, age gap (sunghoon is 10 years older), semi-public s.x (?), hoon is a needy boi, coercion, quickies, dirty talk, piv, no lube, no protection (don’t be like them!) | words: 1.4k
imagine boss!sunghoon being so needy n desperate for you at all times, he just can’t seem to keep his hands off you.. just needs to cop a feel whenever he can bc he’s that obsessed w you ;( he’s also willing to skip important business meetings just so he can bring you into his office when no one’s around and have you bent over his desk— loving the way your curves hug the work uniform in all the right places..
this is my very first ever post on enhablr !
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“please?” sunghoon’s desperation grew as time went on, nothing but lust clouding his judgement. he had you pushed up against his desk, caging his arms around the slope of your waist, hindering you from any retaliation, utterly defenseless in his hold.
“i promise i’ll be super quick..!” he pleads even more, pressing wet kisses all over your face, his pouty lips still lingering along the rim of your jaw afterwards. “just need you, so so sooo bad.”
sunghoon has been “negotiating” with you for the past ten-ish or so minutes, playing every trick in the book he possibly can in getting you to fold like a sunday lawn chair for him. what may have prompted all this you wonder ? well, he simply got hard at the sight of you and now you’re the one in ‘trouble’ because he can’t function while being bricked up at work. you two had an odd relationship to say the least… he was your boss, the man you reported to every day and pick up his morning coffee before he arrives at 8 AM sharp, but you also sleep with him sometimes?? (you thought it would be just a one off occurrence but sunghoon wanted it to be a more frequent, fwb type of deal..)
you were seriously hoping that he’d leave you alone today, you had a lot of work that needed to get done within a short timeframe and distractions weren’t going to do you any good, however, you couldn’t just say no to park sunghoon. there were dozens of other women who’d kill to be in your position, they already tried to seduce him one, two many times before— except you of course. you were like the golden employee who always followed orders, listened to directions the first time, and did everything the right way, he’s never really had to reprimand you and even on the rare chances you do mess up, he’d handle it with you in private; just like how he’s doing now.
hell, sunghoon makes it excruciatingly hard to resist him. especially when his breath inched beneath your ear, silky strands of jet black hair tickling your chin as he begs for your touch.
“i told you i was busy— hoon, s-stopp !” you helplessly whine, your mind kept telling you to refuse but your body was saying a completely different story. he knew exactly where to pull the pin, knew just how to make you give in to his not-so-safe-for-work desires.
“oh are we now ?, too busy for me ? what happened to wanting to get that new promotion, huh ?” he cocks his head to the side, turning arrogant all of a sudden now that he can use something as leverage over you. it’s a shame that he has to stoop to such low levels but he’s willing to try whatever method that’ll get him exactly what he wants.
as he whispers in further detail all the naughty things he wants to do to you, your legs were brought to a tight close, wanting nothing more than to relieve the ache you felt between your plush thighs; you feel dirty, disgusting for wanting your boss to fuck your brains out, it’s unprofessional, you shouldn’t be doing this— letting him have access to you whenever he wants almost felt dehumanizing.
though, you be lying if you said he didn't strike a bone in your body, maybe 3, or 4.. 10 at most. hell, maybe even all of them. some days you were able to keep your cool and act as though he had zero effect on you— however, he was just so unable to resist at times. you couldn’t help but be attracted to him; even if he was an asshole sometimes, you secretly liked it in a sick, twisted kind of way. if he was going to play this little game then you may as well play right along, plus you weren't gonna just walk around with soggy panties without getting something in return, right ? right.
“oh ? giving in already, guess you really do want it that bad, huh ?” he smirked childishly as you finally cave in, rubbing up against him, spreading and burying his knee between your thighs.
“shut up, do you wanna? or not ?” so over his annoying little antics, you gradually wiggled your hips against his toned, muscular thighs.
“it’s cute when you act all needy for me.” his hands caressed your waist, taking your leg to his hip, in effect your pencil skirt riding up your thigh.
you felt his clothed dick against your core as he pressed his body against you. sloppily taking your tongue against his.
you've always wondered how this man could get you so hot and sweaty all over a few words. then again, as long as you’re pleased; does it really matter ?
“fuck..” you spoke, hand grabbing at his tie, the melody of his luxury belt being unwrathed gave you a tsunami of chills. “quickly, i have a meeting in..” you checked you wrist, reading the analog watch that sat delicately along your veins. “15.” you heaved heavily, he tugged down your tights physically prepping himself with his hand.
“thats enough time to make me bust twice.” he chuckled. his length entered your puffy, dewy pussy.
“quick busser !” you laughed, knowing it'd strike a chord within whenever you tease him.
taking your ass in his hands before he paces himself. “you love when my dick coats your pussy in a thick coat. so, suck it.” he groaned, kissing onto your collarbone to keep himself quiet.
his office wasn't what people would call sound proof, but at a good distance from the door, nobody could be able to hear you. but keeping you quiet would deem to be the most difficult part.
sunghoon bear hugged you keeping you tight against him, he thought fucking you in your work attire, especially your tights, had to be the sexiest shit to dance on this earth. it's honestly why he's here. the way the thin black fabric wrapped around your thighs, he could just picture your sloppy pussy, wrapping around him. balls deep. and you took him so. so. so. well.
“ugh, yesyesyes..” your ragged breathing swam through his ears, giving him an ounce more of stamina. “shit !” your clit throbbed at his lower abdomens slight back to back friction, you grind up onto him, to feel more of that reminiscing release edging you.
he nibbled at your lips before taking them against his. “shut the fuck up. you dont— hell..wanna get caught do you ?” he swatted your thigh, thrusting himself at a slower, but rougher notion.
“fe—feel so good, nggh.. hoon..” you whispered, biting at his ear.
your forehead glistened with sweat, the buttons of your shirt leaving your perky breasts opposed and exposed. you threw your head back at the pulsating between the two of you, you could feel him. throbbing, and hardening inside of you, and it turned you way the fuck on. just as your pussy throbbed against his hard.
“c'mon mama.. you wanna drench your boss’s cock? huh ?.. wanna make it all gooey with your cum ?” he pushed you closer and closer with his words, as if him ramming into you wasn't enough.
“yes.. wan' make it gooey, baby !” you whispered under your breath. throwing your head back, leaving your boobs to bounce under the escaping light of his blinds.
“then cum, be a good girl..” sunghoon’s breath quickened, he was near the edge himself, if not on it.
the two of you, moaning into each other's lusty mouths, aching for more. your groans becoming quickened and hoarse as the burning knot in your stomach leaves you in discomfort. until a strong stroke came to pop that growing bubble inside you, releasing you of all your numbness. you came onto his thickness.
sunghoon, lost it at the feel of you tightening around him, lays you down onto the desk, pushing down on your stomach. he could feel himself through passing through your entrance. just thinking about it, left him blissful.
“fuck, fuck ! 's fuckin' right, squeeze me baby..” he finally broke, leaving all his pellent inside of you, slowly pumping himself a few more times before sliding out. his figure, breathing heavily, leaning onto your heaving chest.
you could hear him chuckling after awhile of comfortable silence. “looks like you're gonna be late for your meeting miss. y/n.”
“you so owe me.” you glare up at him as if this was all his fault.
“i do ?” he kissed your tummy.
“yeah, you do actually.”
“and what may that be?” he raises his brow, pushing up his thin framed glasses.
“a real date.”
“can i take you back to my place after ?” he kissed your tummy through your shirt once more.
“deal.” you grinned, catching your breath.
you were a dirty mess. a mess that sunghoon, had absolutely no problem with cleaning up.
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vampiricgf · 2 months
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— v. lycaon | perfect coincidences
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·₊̣̇. ⊱ warnings: fem reader, baby fever, breeding kink, he just wants to knock you the fuck up, explicit talk of pregnancy, knotting, creampie, praise, established relationship, biting, pet names (sweetheart, little mate), mating press, crying, cervix fucking, he's also so in love with you it's sickening
wc: 2.5k+
tumblrs being stupid so im sorry if this posts n the formatting is off >.< im once again saying he would have the most diabolical breeding kink okie bye~‹𝟹
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It had been a running commentary all day as you two ran errands together, from one person after the next.
At the flower shop, being stopped by a kindly older woman who asked for help selecting flowers for a granddaughter. Of course Lycaon knew the best ones and the old woman was clearly absolutely taken with him, ever the gentleman, as you'd watched with a bemused smile on your face. Only when she had finished and paid for the colorful bouquet did she turn to you, grinning in that sort of conspiratorial way grandmothers tend to do.
"Your husband is wonderful, do you two have any children by chance?" With a light hand on your forearm she posed the question.
It left you floundering briefly. Husband? Children? You two weren't even married, had only been dating for a little over a year.
"Oh no we're not-"
"Well, you should definitely change that dearie," she grinned and gave you a wink, which only made you run hot all over and stutter before she walked out of the shop humming to herself.
As Lycaon returned to your side, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers tucked in the crook of his elbow he gave you a curious once over. "Is everything alright?"
You shook your head, flashing him a small smile and grasping his hand tightly in yours. "I'm fine, do you want to grab coffee before we go home?"
Then again inside the Coff Cafe, as he handed you the bouquet to hold so he could pay and grab your drinks a young woman standing next to you gave you a wistful look, eyes flicking from the bouquet to Lycaons back.
"You're so lucky to have somebody who gets you flowers."
That made you shyly glance down at the fragrant blooms before answering. "Mhm, he is really wonderful."
"I bet you two have the cutest little kids, all fuzzy ears and fluffy tails." She sighed longingly and you could only feel bewildered. Was there something about you screaming talk to me about my hypothetical kids today?
You laughed nervously, feeling grateful for Lycaons return and gladly accepting the warm to-go cup from his hand before answering as you turned to leave. "Well, I hope you find someone to bring you flowers."
You felt him looking at you quizzically as the door jingled shut behind you and the mild chill of the outside world returned as you walk towards the metro station.
"Isn't it strange, all these people asking if we're married or have kids today?" You said, looking up at him and not quite sure what you're hoping his answer will be.
His face was unreadable, in the way he gets with his clients, like he's purposely maintaining a safe distance as he responds. "I suppose it's only natural to wonder."
His noncommittal answer only left you more puzzled but as you two boarded the train you took the opportunity to silently ponder the questions from strangers, fingers tangled loosely in his as you sat side by side.
Would we have cute kids?
~
It was late when his eyes cracked open, late enough that the bedroom was still pitch black and you were sound asleep against him, curled on your side with your back pressed to his chest. He could hear your soft, even little puffs of air in the dark as his nose pressed to the back of your neck.
You murmured something in your sleep, something that sounded an awful lot like his name and it brought a little thrill to his heart. He tried to mostly keep it contained but the reality was that you were just so sweet, so adorable and as it turns out you were the exact same way when you were unconscious and it made his arms flex, squeezing around you a little tighter.
He'd heard the term once from Ellen at work, cuteness aggression. It fit how he felt about you in moments like this, as if he could just squeeze and squeeze until you two were mashed into one entity because you were just too cute, it couldn't be helped.
My adorable little mate.
The sudden thought made him freeze. You two weren't actually mated, and it was at his own insistence. He never wanted to hurt you and constantly worried anytime you brought it up because the simple fact was that he was stronger than you and could easily lose control of himself during the act. It was already hard enough to not pummel his knot inside you like you were just a toy when you two had sex, no matter how much you begged for it.
But then again, it was an urge, a longing, he consistently felt the need to fulfill. To dig his teeth into the side of your neck, hold you still while his knot locked you two together and he drowned your fluttering pussy in cum. More than enough to get you pregnant.
Unconsciously his hand slipped beneath your shirt, massaging slow circles into your side, then your tummy. You'd look so beautiful like that, belly all round with his child and breasts swelling with milk. Your scent would change first with the undercurrent of that sweet, milky smell all young children carry with them for a short while.
You'd looked at him so expectantly earlier as you'd asked what he thought about all those people commenting on if you had children at home. You'd tried to sound flippant, but he could tell you expected a certain answer from him. Had seen the look on your face on the train, silently pouring over the question and it didn't take much to know you were imagining those hypothetical babies.
But even after more than a year of dating he'd never once cum inside you, always pulling out to press your thighs together and fuck them before spilling against your stomach and chest.
He'd take such good care of you though, you'd never lift a finger or even leave the bed if you didn't desire to throughout the entire long nine months. You'd be a princess inside this spacious home, wanting for nothing and he'd lavish you every second of the day if you let him. No part of you would go underappreciated.
As his hips started moving of their own accord, pressing his growing erection against the swell of your ass, and he breathed you in even deeper it suddenly clicked, a bizarre flash of perfect clarity.
He needed to get you pregnant, needed to knot you as many times as possible to make sure it took, needed to make you cry out and do that thing he secretly enjoys: twining the fur at the back of his neck between your fingers to tug on it then smoothing it back down as if you're apologizing for the act. Wanted to feel exactly how tight you could get when he squeezed his knot inside and felt you clamping down on him to milk him for all he had.
Oh and he'd give it to you, give you everything you could ever ask for.
"Lycaon?" Your voice was low, thick with sleep as you stirred at the feeling of him grinding against you.
He gave a little mhm before burying his face against your neck again, nipping and sucking lightly on the delicate flesh, his hand sliding higher to grope at your breasts beneath his shirt you wore. Never before has been so thankful for your habit of wearing only his shirts and a pair of panties to bed.
Your own hips moved lazily with his, little groans muffled as you turned your head to the pillow that only spurred him on to pull the flimsy fabric between your legs to the side, dipping a finger into your wetness before sliding up to play with your clit. As soon as the pad of his finger pressed against you your breathing changed, becoming a little more rough the more he circled and teased at your needy little bud.
Before long he was lapping at your neck, practically whining as he ground his now painfully hard cock against you and plunging two fingers inside your soaking wet heat. The way your body eagerly welcomed the intrusion only fueled the haze of lust gripping his mind, reinforced the thought that this was what you wanted too.
But tonight he was too impatient to do his usual routine of playing with your pussy until you were so wet it would stick to your thighs and drip down to the sheets. Tonight he had a more direct goal driving him forward.
So gently he encouraged you to turn onto your back, letting him slide those silky underwear off and spread your legs wide, drawing sticky hearts against your clit with one hand while the other hiked up the t shirt you wore to expose your chest. Greedily he took one of your nipples into his mouth, canines grazing the thin skin of it dangerously as he sucked and flicked his tongue against the hardened bud.
In a hurry he pulled back, hands fumbling with the pajama bottoms he wore in order to let his throbbing cock spring free, smacking against his lower abdomen and as he glanced up you moaned at the sight. If only you knew what an ego boost it was when he saw your eyes go wide every time, as if it were the first time all over again. The way you looked like you were practically salivating at the size of him. When your eyes flicked up through sleep heavy lashes it sent a shiver down his spine.
Sometimes he swore you were more beastial than he was.
Quickly he leaned back down to capture your lips, a searing needy kiss that was a tangle of sloppy teeth and tongues. It didn't matter, all that mattered was that you knew how badly he wanted you, needed you.
In between panting breaths you spoke and it was like an adrenaline shot to the heart.
"I love you."
"God I love you," he sighed, lining himself up with your entrance and as the head of his cock pushed in, sitting heavy inside you, his head hung down with a moan of your name.
Strong arms grabbed at your legs, pushing them up to his shoulders before he bent back down and fully slid inside you, groaning against the feeling of your walls sucking him in deeper and his knot coming to rest right up at your slick hole.
"You always take it so well," he couldn't help the words of praise, watching your breasts move as your breathing became strained against the feeling of him prodding at your cervix. He kissed the spot between your brows, smoothing the look of pained adjustment and waiting until you give a little nod of your head for him to continue.
"So good for me," he wasn't sure what had gotten into him but tonight he just felt overcome with the urge to make sure you knew just how much he loved you, loved this.
His pace was slow initially, pulling out to just the tip only to rock back into you and hit that perfect spot that made your toes curl in midair. It was heaven, feeling you cling onto him, mewling and whining while the soft squelch of your pussy filled the room. The perfect symphony to match the lust drunk feeling buzzing in his veins.
All those little sounds encouraged his hips to set a more demanding pace, making your body jostle so violently it was all you could do to just hang onto his shoulders and lock your ankles together against his lower back, just above the base of his tail.
He pushed himself up onto his forearms, seeing how glossy your eyes were and the way your lips were parted in a wail as he pounded into you with an uncharacteristic abandon. As your voice reached a fever pitch you brokenly said it again, I love you. Over and over again like it was the only tether you had in the world and suddenly all of his earlier fantasies came spilling out in between frantic presses of his lips against your jaw and throat.
"I wanna get you pregnant," he gasped and you moaned a particularly loud curse, "please sweetheart, please I wanna cum inside you" the last syllable was an unintelligible kneen from low in his throat as your heels dug into his back.
Against the cacophony of skin smacking and the wheezing of your breath as he pushed your legs harder against your chest he heard it.
"Gonna have your baby- ah!"
And that was all he needed, hips snapping against you mercilessly, teeth bared against the side of your throat. The way you squeezed around him in a stranglehold told him you were close and he could feel his balls tightening in response, preparation for release and his knot was swollen, throbbing, aching with every press against your entrance and teased with the promise of popping in snuggly against your spongy walls.
And within seconds he could feel it, one last punishing thrust before it bullied its way into your pussy, expanding and slotting itself perfectly in place while he flooded you with thick, gooey cum. Desperately he kept rocking against you, like he could fuck it deeper inside you and his fingers came back to rub loving circles over your clit, watching as your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan.
The way you felt around him in that second was the most explosively pleasurable feeling he's ever had in his life. Greedy walls massaging against his cock, squeezing his knot hard enough that it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.
It was perfect, you were perfect. Your body so willing and waiting, taking his painfully thick knot so well it was like you'd done it a thousand times, rather than tonight being the first. And you were entirely his, his to pump load after load inside, his to pin down and fuck until your belly was nice and round.
Even as you remained locked together and coming down from your own orgasm his hips never stopped moving, and he licked at the saltwater tracking down your cheeks, apologizing for making you so oversensitive but surely you can tell he can't stop here. He held you and continued to mindlessly rut against you, holding you so impossibly close.
"We have to make sure it takes," he finally, brokenly, spoke as he could feel the swelling come down yet he didn't soften inside you, if anything he felt even harder as he fell back into the slow, yet firm rhythm he started with.
You cried out so high, so obscenely, clutching and pulling at his fur he couldn't help but give you a cautionary bite to the shoulder, a warning to stop twitching your hips and take what he was giving you and like a good little mate you listened.
As he moved to nip at your bottom lip it was with a million silent promises, to care for you all throughout what would come from this.
And you have to know he means it, know he'll tell you all over again in the light of day when you're so sore he'll have to carry you to the bath, when you both admire the smattering of light bruises on your thighs and hips. Because you're his mate, his love for the rest of his life.
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vividxpages · 19 days
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༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚. "the craving"༉‧₊˚🤍❀༉‧₊˚. PART 1
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Read Part 2 here 🤍
pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader
words: 6300
summary: after a long day of scouting together, your betrothed Jacaerys and you are forced to seek shelter at an inn when a storm is raging outside. The only "problem"; there is only one, tiny bed for the two of you.
warnings: sexual tension, they're both virgins, but the Targaryen ancestors wrote a kamasutra for future generations and Jace has read it ;) , only one bed trope, cuddling/spooning, sexual content (making out, vaginal fingering, a little bit of dirty talk from Jace), aftercare
a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this story and it's my longest one for Jace so far, hope you like it! <3 I also have some ideas for a potential part 2 👀....
𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃
It was a rare occurrence for you, being chosen by the Queen to scout for the day, patrolling the sky and the lands underneath it from a safe distance. 
You were a princess of Dragonstone, but you were also a dragonrider, even if you were still young and an honor like this filled you with undeniable pride.
It was an even rarer occurrence that she allowed Jacaerys to join you.
Your recent betrothal to the prince had been a blessing, making your strong bond of friendship weave itself only tighter, but it also had brought up feelings you'd thought you simply could've brushed aside before.
Jace had gotten more...protective of you, more tender and you could not help but feel yourself being drawn to him too, longing for the mornings spent together at breakfast after saying goodnight to each other on your doorstep the night before.
Of course, there were rules, things to do when courting and things to avoid, such as sharing a room before marriage and the things that could happen in said room…
But you were never the one to follow rules lightly and weren't you going to be married anyways? All you needed was a little push until you'd surrender your heart and your body to Jacaerys...
And somehow, you had a feeling you weren't alone with these forbidden desires.
Today had been mostly spent in the sky, flying together as if you had never done something else. You were a unit, always knowing where the other was and what they did and it seemed like your dragons were delighted as well by the recent development of your planned union. 
You couldn't help but laugh with the wind when they playfully snapped at each other, both making little besotted growls from time to time, like Jace and you were interrupting a date.
Everything would've been alright if the storm hadn't moved into your direction.
It was getting darker and darker and both of you couldn't make your dragons move any faster, since they were young just as you and Jace were. Situations like this couldn't exactly be trained beforehand.
When the rain hit you, your mood dropped instantly.
"It's getting late!" You heard Jacaerys' familiar voice calling over to you through the wind and rain. "The weather isn't going to get any better and we are too far away from Dragonstone to make it back before midnight. We have to find a place to spend the night, it's no use."
You knew he could see the frustration on your face, worrying what your people back in the safety of Dragonstone's walls would think if the future of a more hopeful realm did not return as punctually as expected.
"She's going to be worried out of your mind for you." You called back, but the rain in front of you was blurring your vision and you kept pushing your hair out of your face.
Vermax let out a displeased growl as thunder rolled through the clouds. Jace squinted his eyes to make you out next to him, the storm getting stronger and stronger by the minute. "I'm not going to let us get struck by lightning! There's a merchant route right under us, if I remember it right. We land, now."
You reluctantly tugged the reigns of your dragon tighter around your fists and steered her down, following Jace and Vermax through the clouds as they descended. You couldn't argue with him, but a stop in an unknown region was risky. Even if you two were in the company of your dragons.
By the time you had landed in a clearing of the forest Jace had spotted from up above, your clothes were dripping wet on the ground.
Climbing down your dragon's back, you couldn't help but snort as Vermax immediately seeked shelter underneath the massive pine trees from the weather, his rider fondly shaking his head at his companion. 
As you approached, Jace sighed and squinted up into the sky above you. "I know you dislike this, as I do. But I'm not taking a risk. It's better to wait the night instead of getting attacked in a thunderstorm, don't you agree?"
"Yes…" You looked at him, still a little conflicted. "But we can only hope our people at Dragonstone agree with you as well."
Jace smiled at you, raising both his hands in defense. Like this, eyes bright and wet hair curling around his already beautiful face, he was a vision, making you permanently weak in the knees. "They will agree, because I am protecting the princess, my betrothed, as you are protecting yours."
Yours.
You involuntarily shuddered, the promise of being married to him one day never tiring of sending lightning through you.
While you understood the Queen's choice to wait with marrying you because of the war, you were growing tired of being denied what you craved so badly; not the ring on your finger - a beautiful thing you knew Jace had already commissioned to being forged, one of Vermax' scales sitting in its silver center - but the boy you were dreaming about at night, visiting you in the quietness of Dragonstone, sliding underneath your warm covers to-
"Everything alright?" Jace had stepped to your side, one hand on your shoulder. 
You nodded, swallowing thickly. "We should stop and rest at the first place we can find."
The traveler's road was empty and no one noticed the two of you stepping out of the forest and making your way over to the first building you saw, a small inn with its windows alight from the inside.
You shivered at the thought of a warm fire and wrinkled your nose at your clammy leathers. On top of it, your belly growled and Jacaerys and you shared a look.
A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Don't worry, I'll find you something to eat even if I have to hunt it myself tonight."
You blushed, his words always managing to touch something deep within you.
Jace and you entered the inn, immediately enveloped by its delicious warmth and sociability. As Prince and Princess, you were not used to a civility like this and for a moment, you wondered what it'd be like to live like this, leading a simple life with Jace where no one would know you and you could do whatever you pleased. What a dangerous thought this was...
Just before you and him reached the small reception counter of the inn, Jace placed one of his gloved hands on your lower back, a secure and telling gesture that made your skin underneath the riding leathers burn pleasantly.
"Good evening." He spoke confidently. "My wife and I are looking for a place to stay for the night. The storm has caught us off guard on the road."
The innkeeper looked at you and although you knew he didn't want to hear it, you silently said a prayer of gratitude for Jace's beautiful dark hair and eyes. If he'd have silver hair, all could be lost, depending on the opinion of the inn's staff on this ongoing war.
You tugged your cloak tighter around you, hiding the riding leathers on your body, and looked back calmly. You forced your bottom lip to wobble as if you only now remembered the cold haunting your bones. How fast could you make your way back to the forest and your dragons before the whole house was up on their feet for two Targaryens in its midst?
"It caught us off guard alright as well, good sir." The innkeeper said goodnaturedly after a moment and you sighed on the inside. "The taproom is bursting at the seams tonight. I can only offer a single room, but I'm sure it's no problem for two young lovebirds like you. Dinner will be served for you, too, if you require it."
Jace swallowed thickly, not meeting your gaze at the prospect of a tiny room for the two of you. 
So far, your betrothal had consisted of courting each other quietly and sweetly, the long promised wedding pushed back again and again, much to your frustration. To share a room with Jace before you were married - it sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't say it was a bad one.
"We require it. And thank you for the room. We will pay in advance, of course." Jace produced a small sack of coins from his cloak and you stepped aside and peeked into the full taproom, trying to calm your racing heart.
When he was done, Jacaerys stepped up to you and smiled encouragingly, although you could see through him instantly and saw the same nervousness possessing you. This was no place for you two and yet here you were.
"Dinner, my lady?" Jace asked under his breath and with a snort, you let yourself be led into the taproom, carefully avoiding any curious eyes on you as you found a quiet corner in the far back where hopefully no one would disturb you or have questions. 
Quickly, two plates with bread, cheese and tomatoes were brought to your table and Jacaerys and you began to eat, tense in your wariness for your surroundings but comfortable in each other's presence. 
He politely declined the waitress's offer of beer, but made her bring you a pitcher of clear water, the day spent underneath the sun having dried out your bodies like nothing else.
After a while - you were still munching on your bread and Jace looked about to be finished - he took a few of his tomatoes and placed them on your plate, a silent encouragement.
"Thank you." You said quietly and ate them too while he kept watch, over you and the room behind you. But in all the hustle going on in there, no one had time or interest for a young couple on the road and soon, your plates were empty and you retreated upstairs and down the narrow corridor.
The last door was yours.
Your eyes widened shortly as you took in your room for the night. There was a window where rain splattered against the glass, a small table with a chair and a bed, although it could barely be called that if you thought of your enormous bed at Dragonstone.
Beside you, you could feel Jace pausing as he locked the door, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the tiny bed in the corner of the room. If only one of you could fit, it'd be a miracle and the floor was in no condition to be slept on.
You took off your cloak and threw it over the chair, opening your mouth to speak just as Jace did.
"I'm taking the floor." He declared and you wanted to roll your eyes and also kiss him for his selflessness.
"You will not sleep on this floor, Jace." You argued and as you wrung out your damp hair, the last droplets of water fell onto the boards, blooming in the dust covering them. 
Jace stayed silent for a moment, wrapping a cloth from within his cloak around the doorknob and tying a tight knot, so you wouldn't be disturbed by any unpleasant visitors tonight.
"Please don't be ridiculous now." You tried again, softer this time. "You had a long flight today, too. We slept side by side when we were kids sometimes, remember? We'd fall asleep in the gardens of King's Landing while we watched the clouds, dreaming of riding our dragons someday."
"But we are not kids anymore." Jacaerys said quietly.
No, you weren't. 
And as you looked at him, reaching behind himself to unclasp his cloak, his dark curls still framing his serious face, you knew there was not an ounce of childlike innocence in you when it came to him.
"And I-" He interrupted himself as his cloak joined yours on the chair and you did not step back, only shuffling closer to rest your hand on his nape. 
What had gotten into you? This boldness, it was dangerous and misplaced and- very much exciting.
Jace slowly looked at you, his dark eyes like burning embers, bringing the heat to your cheek you so desperately needed.
"I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you, princess." He confessed hoarsely and for a moment you thought the wooden floor underneath you had turned into water and you were trying to dance on top of it, unsteady.
You exhaled shakingly, tongue tied in your shock at his confession, but a burning heat swirling pleased in your stomach. 
After a moment, he forced himself to tear himself away from you and cleared his throat. "I mean this in the most chivalrous manner, but I think we should take off our leathers if we don't want to be sick in two days."
You agreed and the two of you turned away from each other, the spell broken.
You faced the wall by the bed as you reached behind yourself, your fingers fumbling with the laces of your uniform. Whoever had invented dragonrider clothes had not intended them to be taken off without the help of half a dozen maids.
Your movements were clumsy and unpracticed, used to getting attended to by your maids for these kinds of things, preferably followed by a hot bath after a long flight.
But now, you were helpless and frustration grew quickly in you until you tilted your head back and let out a tired sigh.
"Jace?" You spoke over your shoulder and heard shuffling. 
"Yes?" 
"I...I can't take them off myself." You admitted, risking a look behind you to see his leather uniform draped over the table, only thin linen pants and a matching top remaining on him. You had never seen him like this, never could've imagined what was laying underneath his princely attires. He looked...innocent, like a boy with big eyes as he watched you. Biting your lip, you added: "Could you help me, at least with my laces?"
"Of course." He breathed and stepped closer as you turned around again, holding yourself completely still as you felt his warmth radiating against your back.
Suddenly, his hand was in your hair, brushing in awe over the wavy strands. "Can I…"
"Yes." You breathed, your nerves fluttering. "Please."
You shuddered as he carefully brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your tightly laced back to him.
Then, with surprisingly skillful fingers, he began to swiftly unlace you, his hands dancing over your spine and making their way down your back.
You were sure neither of you was breathing, your mind growing a bit foggy as you let him attend you like this, the task of a maid replaced by the care of your betrothed.
"All done." He whispered after a while and you were snapped out of your dreamy thoughts. You could already breathe more lightly as the riding leather dangled down on your sides, the front only held up now by your hands on your chest.
"Thank you." You whispered back. What would happen if you turned around now and faced him? Were you too far gone already or would you be able to remember yourself before it was too late?
"I'll light some candles and I...I won't look." Jace said flustered and turned away again, giving you as much privacy as he could as he busied himself with the unlit candles by the table.
Quickly, you slid out of the rest of your uniform until only the thin dress you wore underneath remained. With only these undergarments on you, you almost tripped as you slipped under the covers of the bed and pulled them all up to your chin.
The cold rushed back into you tenfold and you pressed your lips together to keep your teeth from clattering. 
Silently, you watched as Jace lit the last candle and checked the doorknob for one last time to make sure you were safe for the night.
When there was nothing to be done about the state of the room anymore, he met your gaze and asked one more time: "Are you sure?"
I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you…
You nodded, shuffling to the wall as far as you could. There was barely space left for another person, even like this. "Yes. We both need rest."
It seemed like your shivering only intensified as you felt his weight dip on the mattress, joining you as carefully as he could without bumping his knee into your side.
When he was settled, on his slim back while you laid on your side, facing away from him to hide your burning face, he drew the blanket over the two of you, trapping you in for a tight fit and combined warmth, hopefully.
The silence in the room was thick, loaded by something you could not name yet. 
"Try to sleep." Jace whispered to you in the darkness. "Tomorrow, at sunrise, we'll take flight."
You tried your best, you really did. 
But there was no use, not when he was laying so close to you. You were too aware of him, too overstimulated by the mere thought of his body so close to yours, his body heat radiating off of him while you still missed your own.
You were sure the whole mattress was shaking with your quivering, your lips blue and limbs clammy from the cold that had soaked into you on dragonback. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed for a slumber that wouldn't come. 
Jacaerys couldn't bear it anymore.
Seeing you, feeling you shiver so pitifully, he had to put an end to it. It was what a good husband would do.
"Princess…" He whispered into the darkness and you tensed. "You're freezing. If you'd let me...I want to help."
"Help?" You echoed, looking over your shoulder. Like this, you could only make out his eyes in the dark, his silhouette tempting and comforting at once.
Jace swallowed thickly, shuffling until he laid on his side and could support his head with his hand. "If we'd be...closer, I could warm you."
Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, his boldness surprising both you and himself. As scandalous as it was, you already felt yourself drawn to him, your cold bones screaming yes, yes, yes.
"If I won't inconvenience you." You murmured shyly. "I'm shaking like a leaf."
"I'll do my best to change that." Jace promised dutifully, darkly, and shuffled even closer.
Now, you were sure your heart was going to give out. 
Underneath the blanket you shared, Jace pulled you to him, his arm sneaking around your waist as your back met his chest.
You sighed, a small sound of relief as the warmth of him enveloped you and you could feel it also leaving his chest, as if you were two pieces melting together into one.
It was a lover's embrace, there was no doubt about it, but the line between you had already been blurred tonight, ever since he had called you his wife downstairs.
It should've surprised you more, how well your bodies fitted together, how natural the curve of your spine found its place against his lean torso. With his arm securely around you, making sure you'd stay connected, you were not sure if you could not breathe anymore or were finally able to.
"Is this good?" He asked you quietly after some time, your heads now sharing a pillow, a space, an embrace.
No. You needed more.
"Yeah...you are really warm." You breathed out and he chuckled and gods, you could feel the sound against you and thought nothing about this was real, not the inn, not tonight, certainly not him.
You shifted in his embrace, trying to get a little more comfortable when he suddenly let out a low hiss, your bum brushing against-
Oh.
Oh.
You wanted to combust.
You wanted to turn around and kiss him stupid. You wanted to do everything and yet, you were frozen in place, hotness rushing through you at the thought that your prince had gotten aroused while he laid with you like this.
"'m sorry…" He whispered near your ear and in front of your inner eye, you saw his eyes closing in defeat, having given in so quickly to his carnal desires.
You were about to be a very bad betrothed.
Innocently, you moved back against him and he choked on his breath, his mouth now hovering over your nape, the damp hair you wished to be out of your way now to feel him better.
Your hand rested on his forearm around you  and you traveled your fingertips upwards, brushing over his knuckles until you could entwine your fingers, squeezing him reassuringly.
"Princess...we can't." You wanted to chuckle at his unconvinced tone, an unfamiliar strain to his voice like he was trying his best and most to hold himself back from giving in to you.
"We can." You whispered back, kissing his hand in yours and hearing him sigh behind you. "I want you so badly, I feel like I'm dying."
It was too much, to hear those same words he only dared to think in his mind, it shattered the last bit of self control Jacaerys could muster up. He had been aroused ever since he helped you undress, the dreams that usually had him waking up in a sweat in his chambers at Dragonstone now coming true right in front of him.
"Please, Jace." You added with a sigh, pushing back against him. "Give in, please."
He surged forward, his lips making contact with your neck and setting you aflame.
You let out a low moan, the sight of the wall disappearing in front of you as you closed your eyes blissfully, focused only on the feel of Jacaerys lapping at your neck.
It was like he tasted something exquisite and unique, taking his time as he brushed your hair aside, his other hand delicately holding your jaw as he suckled the sensitive spot underneath your ear, making you twitch back in surprise against the outline of his hard cock.
He stifled a groan, something final snapping in him and he turned your head, his finger swiping over your chin and cheek as you both stared at each other, pupils gone wide and dark with desire.
"May I kiss you?" He asked huskily and you nodded quickly, your hand finding its way into his curls, tugging him closer until his hot breath grazed your bottom lip.
"Yes." You let out breathlessly. "Kiss me, please, I-"
He closed the distance between you, engulfing your mouth in a hot, desperate kiss, both of your lust and longing for each other too grand to think clearly anymore.
Still gently holding your jaw and you in his arms, he kissed you passionately, his lips moving slow and relishing against yours. You sighed happily against him, your fingers tightening their hold on his curls and making him groan, his free hand spreading itself out on your stomach.
Heat sloshed through you as your tongues danced, the kiss so much more than what you'd ever could've dreamed of. You never wanted to stop again.
His embrace was possessive, with not much room for you to do anything else but give yourself over to him, caged between the wall and his lean body.
You wanted to drown in his kisses, never to be seen again.
When the air in your lungs got thinner, making you lightheaded, the two of you pulled apart, panting and staring at each other with kiss-bruised lips.
Your hand fell over his own on your stomach, the fabric of your undergarment dress worthy to you of being burned in the heat of the moment.
"Can I touch you?" Jace gasped into your ear, almost a plea.
You nodded frantically, but he shook his head, his curls brushing against your cheek. "I need to hear it from you, love."
Gods, you were truly going to die by his tender hands.
"Yes…" You hissed, your mind already drunk on him. "I want you to touch me, Jace, I need it so badly."
You ground your bum back against him and Jace released a moan, the sound going right into your core, where wetness was pooling between your thighs and making a mess of you.
He peppered kisses on your cheek and jaw, relishing the way your back arched against him as his hand dove underneath the blanket and fumbled with the seams of your gown, tugging up the fabric as he went.
His hand slid over your naked leg, the skin still a little cold and covered in goosebumps he hoped were his doing. Up and up he went and you were panting by now, mind and body controlled by arousal for him, just for him.
Resting a gentle hand on your inner thigh, he spread your legs open, just a little, and kissed you once again, so he could feel the exact moment you'd-
"Ah-" You gasped in his mouth as his fingertips touched your clit and it shouldn't have been enough, you wanted so much more, but you already felt like you were able to find release from just this.
"Gods, you're driving me insane." He groaned, burying his face in your neck and suckling on it as he slowly began to rub circles onto you, his hand dipping down further to gather more of your wetness on his fingers. 
You shuddered at the sensation of his hand between your legs and then you keened as he obscenely spread your own juices over your clit, swirling his finger over the aching bundle of nerves.
"Fuck…" You whispered, your mouth falling open as he started a careful rhythm, letting you adjust to the sensation of having your clit pampered like this, easy circles and slight rubs.
Laying on your side only seemed to heighten your senses.
Your quivering legs tangled, bodies firmly pressed together, his hands around you like vines protecting a precious secret. You did not know anymore if you were tense or melting as he played with you, experimenting with the direction his fingers could go, gently tapping against your sensitive flesh which made you see stars...
And of course, your thighs - becoming sticky with your own juices, his finger being joined by another one and carefully massaging your most intimate part. With every round they went on you, your grasp on control slipped a little more and soon, you were a writhing mess, bucking your hips against Jace's hand as he continued to kiss your neck and relished the delicious little sounds you made because of him.
"You're so wet." He murmured, in awe of you and your body and you moaned, slumping against his back as he gently plucked on your clit, shiver after shiver running through you and ruining you. "I only dreamed of you like this, princess. You are a sight to behold."
You wanted to say something, anything, but it seemed like your brain had melted, mewling as he cupped your whole core and slowly shook his hand, the friction intensifying only more as vibrations were sent through your pussy.
"Where did you learn all this?" You asked breathlessly and he chuckled, blushing and nuzzling your sweaty neck lovingly as he dipped his fingers lower, almost where you needed him the most.
"The library at Dragonstone can be very...educational. On many different topics." He murmured melodically and you were still, awaiting, as he pushed your undergarments up more, his hand drifting up over your stomach and towards your chest. "Some of the books our ancestors kept there are very...interesting to read. Diaries of fiery encounters and instructions on love making. I had to resist taking notes when I read some of those passages, on how to please women when I could only picture you in my head."
A guttural, broken moan left you when he mouthed at your neck, licking over your exposed throat.
It distracted you just enough that he nearly sent you into an early release as his wet, glistening thumb circled around one of your rosy buds before he raised the same finger to his lips and had a taste.
You both groaned in union, your thighs squeezing together as you stared at him, his own eyes closed in bliss at the taste of you. Just as he had imagined…like honeydew.
He slid his hand underneath your neck so you could rest your head on his strong arm, the same hand coming down to cup one of your aching tits. Like in everything else; you were perfect for each other here. His hand had just the right size for you.
You eagerly spread your legs again as his other hand snaked down your body again, both his and your remaining clothes drenched by sweat, the room smelling of sex.
"I'm dying to know how you feel around my fingers, princess." He confessed and you bit your lip, trying to fight the urge to cross your eyes as his fingers ghosted over your wet clit again; and losing. "Can I? Can I have you like this, my love?"
What a dirty tongue your betrothed had…
If your mind had been any clearer and not as fucked out, you would've asked him if he also learned that in his books, but that was a conversation for another day.
"Yes." You gasped instead, bucking once again against his hand over you, cupping your core and squeezing your clit between two of his digits, making you moan brokenly. "Please, Jace, I need you to fuck me, please, fuck me-"
You knew he couldn't, you both couldn't, at least this much of both your composures remained. But there were other ways to find release and apparently, your sweet betrothed was an expert at executing them.
He raised himself a little, peeking over your shoulder so he could look at your heated face, rosy cheek and wet, parted lips just for him. Jace pulled you into a kiss, sweet and slow this time and you moaned right into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue.
Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks and you were overwhelmed in the best possible way as Jace's finger slid through your juices once again before he entered you.
You could've sworn you heard his and your dragon roar triumphantly in the distance as he slid his finger into your drenched core, your moan loud enough to go beyond the walls of your room and raise questions - or brows at such distasteful actions behind closed doors. If they only knew.
He groaned at how tightly you squeezed his single digit, fantasizing how you'd feel around his cock. Jace twitched against your back and you held him only tighter, your hot walls eager to let him in. 
You were so wet, it was a slippery little affair and as he let you adjust, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your clit, his rhythm reflected in the way your core clenched up deliciously.
You locked eyes with him, half-lidded and ready to die a sweet death at his hands, begging him softly: "You can move. It's okay, you won't hurt me." 
It was like you were playing your wedding night and he let out a shuddering breath, needing to stay in control before he threw it out of the window and deflowered you right here, in a bed and place that wasn't worthy of you. He'd never forgive himself if he would not make it special.
Slowly, he pushed forward and further into your heat, his finger quickly becoming wet and slippery and covered in you.
You let out a satisfied sigh, letting yourself be kissed as he oh so gently began to build up an easy rhythm, not brave enough yet to sink to the knuckle into you, but feeding your soaked cunt more and more of him, his mind alert to spot any discomfort in you and ready to stop and wait for you.
But you had wanted him for far too long to need any more caution from him.
And the sounds - gods, the sounds were driving you insane. You were so wet, your pussy was making slurping sounds at the intrusion of his finger and you bit your lip blissfully when he finally found his pace, light and easy on you, but no less hot and intense.
Only the rain splattering against the windows and your little moans and gasps could be heard as he fingered you gently, the pads of his finger dragging over your walls and trying to find the one tiny spot he had read about, enough to make a woman lose her mind and all final restraints if done right.
You were mewling, gripping his arm over your chest tightly and occasionally biting his skin softly to stop you from being too loud. 
"You are so beautiful." He slurred against your temple, keeping his eyes only on you to capture every one of your reactions and keep it in his mind.
You moaned wantonly, maybe because of the praise or because his thumb dragged over your pulsing clit, he didn't know. But oh, how he wanted to find out.
For just a moment, he stilled his movements and you looked at him with wide eyes, your hips trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, but him not letting you. 
Jace watched you closely, quickly kissing your quivering lips before his voice dropped low and he murmured: "Your cunt feels so good around my fingers, my love. You're squeezing me so tightly, ñuha jorrāeliarzy, you are the most beautiful thing in the whole realm and all mine."
"Yours." You echoed and whimpered, solely because of his words.
He couldn't help but smile besottedly, storing the effect of his words on you away for another time and  resuming to fingering you gently. 
Soon, after you whispered you were ready for one more, two of his fingers were now softly pumping in and out of you and you knew you could not last much longer under his sweet tormention.
Your hips had begun to move on their own and he watched you with both fascination and love as you rode on his fingers, your eyes closed and your lovely mouth opened in the sweetest o-shape. 
If he'd still now, he knew you'd continue to fuck yourself on him and god, how he wanted to see it, but there was still one ace up his sleeve and he couldn't wait any longer to try it.
He crooked both his fingers upwards and you tensed in his arms, moaning into his arm and losing yourself almost completely as he touched a part of you you didn't even know existed.
"Jacaerys, gods, I-" You whimpered as the pads of his fingers rubbed against that rough little spot in you, your hips twitching uncontrollably.
"Let go for me, princess." He encouraged you, kissing your cheek and nuzzling his face against yours sweetly. "I can feel you dripping around me, your perfect cunt weeping for me…"
You were floating, only held back by Jacaerys' arms around you, playing your body like a delicate instrument as one hand played with your tit while the other still rubbed against your sweet spot, eager to bring you to release.
His thumb came back onto your clit and your hips arched, pressing yourself forward against his sticky hand as he rubbed delicious circles on you.
"Come for me, my love, I need to see, need to feel you." He coaxed you further, smiling against your neck and adding in a whisper: "Let go for me, my sweet wife."
That was it.
You exploded, coming hard around his fingers, whimpering pitifully as tears of pleasure and overwhelm escaped your eyes. 
You rode your high, your hips helplessly bucking against Jacaerys as he kissed your tears away, softly talking you through it and soothing you down with gentle hands from a peak you had no idea how to recover from…
Jace watched you closely, fascinated and so, so in love, as he slowly slipped his fingers out of you, an obscene string connecting them to your wetness he could not see.
To make sure you would not feel too empty, his hand cupped your mound, keeping you warm and secure as little aftershocks ran through you and you were panting and peppering little kisses on his arm, clinging to him with all your might.
"You were so good…" Jace whispered lovingly, kissing whatever he could reach of you, his body keeping you warm and sated in the aftermath of both your actions. "So, so beautiful…"
You hummed, tired and thoroughly happy as you slowly calmed down, relishing the feeling of his warm hand still on you, carefully avoiding your spent parts so you wouldn't feel overstimulated.
Exhaustion clung to your bones, a mixture of the long day on dragonback and the oblivion of good sex, but you still felt Jacaerys hard against your back. He had not yet found his release and you were eager to give it to him.
You tried to turn around, to reach down between you and touch him, but he was not having it.
"Sh sh, this was only about you, my love." He shushed you, his strong arms efficiently stopping you from wriggling against him. He soothed his hands over your sides and kissed your temple. "When I take you to bed properly, it will be at Dragonstone where I can take care of you as a loving husband should."
You shivered at the promise, without any coldness left in your veins.
He smiled against your cheek, his fingers lightly drawing circles onto your hip bone as he leaned closer and whispered into your ear: "And then, I'm going to take my time with you, princess, learning how you taste on my tongue...ravishing that sweet little cunt of yours…"
Your core deliciously clenched up at the thought, but you were also sleepy, your eyelids already betraying your intentions as they drooped. You snuggled yourself closer against Jacaerys, stifling a yawn.
"Don't worry, we'll have all the time in the world…" Jace lulled you closer to sleep, the sweet nothings he whispered to you being like a warm blanket draping itself over you.
"Jacaerys…" You mumbled, feeling your grasp on staying awake slip further as his hands ran softly over you, making your mind hazy and blank. "Thank you...I- I'm very warm now…"
He laughed quietly, his chest blooming with happiness as he felt your body slump against his. 
Jace closed his own eyes, resting his chin on top of your head and holding you against him protectively. He was the luckiest prince of the realm tonight and forever if he only had you.
And you, his princess, were warm and sated and in the embrace of the one you belonged to.
And suddenly, as you drifted off into a long and peaceful slumber, flying back to Dragonstone in the morning did not look so dreadful anymore...
𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃
my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss
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rememberwren · 3 months
Text
Complicated Pleasures
OR: Home Videos. You (fem!reader) and Ghost have been married for years when your prodigal friend Johnny finds out that you make and post porn together. Feelings happen. 13k
About this: m/m, f/m, oral f and m receiving, anal sex, PIV, kink, pornography, sir kink, slight objectification, objectionable writing, soft!simon, very soft fic altogether, cum sharing.
-
((A video begins.
 A bed in a tidy room. Identifying features have been hidden: pictures placed face down on the nightstands, blinds drawn tight until the room is cast in a cool glow. A woman sits amongst the nondescript bedspread and sheets, her legs tucked up against her chest and arms wrapped around her thighs, naked except for the mask that does little to truly obscure her face. 
Once she knows the video has begun, it is like she blooms, arms and legs falling away to reveal the soft petals of her nakedness: the  plains of her body, the angles and curves. She’s near perfect, Soap thinks, already fisting his hard cock. 
She looks almost exactly like you. 
Then a man walks around from the other side of the camera, and Soap’s heart leaves his body.))
-
“Johnny!” you say brightly, throwing open the front door. In streams the cold air and bright sunshine reflecting off the snow, and in steps Johnny with snowflakes in his hair and on the shoulders of his coat, gifts wrapped in bright shades of gold and silver tucked beneath one of his arms. 
He stomps his feet, boots shedding packed snow on the doormat, and leans in to deposit the gifts a safe distance away so that he can open his arms and gather you up in them. Your fingers tangle in his jacket, holding him close. He is warm even after coming in from the snow, his scent like Christmas itself: woodsy pine and crackling fires. You feel Simon’s presence appear in the living room doorway and begin to pull away, trying not to hog his friend, even if you desperately want to. 
“Lookit you, bonnie as ever,” Johnny says against your ear. He lets you go, bending down to unlace his boots and call a greeting to Simon: “I see you brooding over there, LT. Happy Christmas to yeh.” 
“No titles at Christmas, Johnny.” 
“Yessir.” 
“You didn’t need to bring gifts,” you scold him.
“Of course I did—it’s fucking Christmas,” says Johnny with a grin as he straightens. He passes you the gifts, a small package and a larger one, each wrapped by a practiced hand that you sense must not have been Johnny’s own. You wonder if there isn’t a girl in his life now—except you and Simon had extended the invitation to one, if so. Why he wouldn’t have brought her, you couldn’t understand. 
Maybe his mum wrapped the gifts. 
Simon and Johnny clasp hands which turns into a hug. Watching them together makes the dust settle in some riotous part of your heart. The two of them—their friendship—just makes perfect sense in its improbability. 
Simon mutters something under his breath and Johnny nods, burying his face deeper into Simon’s broad shoulder. You have the perfect vantage point of Johnny’s face: his eyes squeezed shut, long lashes resting on his cheeks.
A timer in the kitchen goes off—the roast you’ve been cooking since the early morning hours. Excusing yourself, you disappear into the kitchen, pausing just beyond the doorway to press your chilly hands to your flushed cheeks. 
Wine. You needed wine. 
-
“So,” you begin once the three of you have sat down for dinner. “Fill us in, Johnny. What have you been up to?”
The unsaid words linger between you all, What have you been up to during the three years you left? Johnny gives a wane smile, and you think that maybe the time spent apart didn’t serve him nearly as well as he’d hoped it would—however he’d hoped it would. Simon sits at the head of the table, his ankle tangled against your own beneath the oak. It’s a comforting reminder of his presence, considering he lets you and Johnny do most of the talking for now. 
“Whole lot o’ nothing,” Johnny says, sipping at the wine in his glass between sentences. “Traveled abroad fer a while. Spent some time in America, some time in South Korea.” 
“Sounds like a nice place to meet people,” you say, aiming for subtlety the way a sledgehammer might. “I notice you didn’t take us up on our invitation and bring a lass with you.” 
“No lass to bring, hen,” he says smoothly. 
Simon’s ankle stirs against your own, some silent attempt at communication. When you glance over toward him, his eyes are on his plate, face stoic, revealing nothing. 
“Any lads?” you guess. 
Simon’s fork squeaks against his plate. Johnny stops eating. For a moment they both stare at you in shocked silence. Then a grin spreads over Johnny’s handsome face, blooming straight into laughter. He shakes his head, like you have said something very silly. 
“No, no lads,” he says.
Simon’s ankle shifts again. 
You reach for your glass of wine, face hot—
-
—and you don’t stop drinking. 
Afternoon turns into evening, and by the time night falls, the three of you have drunk your way through three bottles of wine and successfully caught each other up on your lives to date. Simon and Johnny have slipped out onto the porch twice to smoke, bringing back in the scent of tobacco and snow, one you don’t mind at all. The fire in the fireplace burns low, crackling and spitting as the log splits. The room is strewn with torn gift wrapping. Simon has already unboxed the knife Johnny had made for him, testing its weight in his palm, testing the sharpness of the blade against the pad of his thumb. (Add that to the list of things which shouldn’t arouse you about Simon but do.)
It reminds you of the idyllic Christmases that you had reached for all your life and only ever skimmed with your fingers. You should have known that the missing piece was Johnny all along. 
Wine drunk, you have kicked your feet up on Johnny’s lap at one end of the couch and curled your upper half on Simon’s lap at the other end. It is easy to fall asleep to the warm lull of their voices, swapping stories from their time in the military together. 
But all at once, the subject matter changes, and it drags you from the threshold of sleep into some misty gray area in between a dream and wakefulness. Eyes still closed, you listen. 
“I found you both, you know.” Johnny’s voice is barely more than a whisper, difficult to hear over the crackling fire. 
“Don’t know what you mean, Johnny. We’re right here.” 
“I found your videos.” 
Your hands tighten into fists where you are clutching Simon’s shirt, eyes cracking open as you put the pieces together in your mind. But he’s smoother than you are, always able to keep a cool head. He sounds a little bored, a little confused as he asks: “What videos?” 
“Never known you to play dumb LT. You know the ones I mean. The porn.” 
A lengthy silence as Simon weighs his options and likely decides that there’s no use in lying. “You did, did you?” 
“Aye.” 
A pause.
“So that’s why you finally came back. Three fucking years she begs you to at least come for Christmas—who knew all it would take was a little pornography to put a fire under your arse.”
“That’s not—didn’t even find it until a few days ago, after I’d already said yes—“ Johnny says, voice rising in his defense. 
“Careful. We don’t want to wake her up, do we?” Simon’s hand pets against your hair, softer than a kiss from the wind. Though he must know you’re awake, you’re grateful that he lets you pretend, lets you hide away while he handles this. “If she knew that you’d seen those videos, she’d be embarrassed. That would make me upset. You understand?” 
“Aye,” he says, lowering his voice a little. He rests his hand against your ankle in his lap and then decides it’s not appropriate, shifts his hand back to his own thigh. You miss his touch. You’ve always missed Johnny’s touch more than you should miss the touch of your husband’s best friend. “But if you didn’t want people to see them, I don’t understand what you were thinkin’ posting them online.” 
“Three guesses. No, go on. Never known you to be shy. Guess.”
Johnny wets his lips. “You didn’t think you’d be recognized.” 
“There’s one.” 
“You…you like it.” 
“There’s two. Give us a third.” 
“She likes it.” 
You groan a little in embarrassment, turning your face away from where Johnny can see its profile, burying it in Simon’s lap. He’s hard, a fact you only realize when his jean-clad cock rubs against your cheek. You go still, eyes widening as this knowledge goes straight to the warmth that’s been stoked between your legs more often than the fireplace has tonight.
Simon’s hand finds the nape of your neck and rests there, keeping you still and quiet. It reminds you of your last video, when he had taken you from behind and put his hand on the nape of your neck to urge your face into the bed, his hips snapping against your ass. Where had the camera been, then? You couldn’t remember. That was Simon’s one rule, besides the masks and never saying each other’s names: don’t look into the camera. 
“So what do you plan to do with this knowledge, Johnny?” Simon asks. You hold your breath, still feigning sleep. “Who do you plan to tell? You know I don’t have anyone left who would give a fuck, but I’m sure you could find someone for her—someone who could shame her and make her feel bad for trying to feel good. Is that what you want?”
“Fuck no. I’d not tell a soul,” says Johnny fiercely. His hand comes to rest on your ankle again. This time he leaves it, thumb brushing the bone. “I swear it.”
“Then why bring it up at all?” 
“I…I don’t know,” Johnny admits, head ducking. “I just had to. Spending time with yeh both, knowing what I knew—it felt dishonest.” 
Simon hums. “You know what I’d like to know?” 
“What’s that?” 
“What our single friend was doing looking at couples porn.” 
-
The night ends quickly after that. Simon carries you to bed—the bed where you film so much of the porn that Johnny has apparently seen—and helps you begin undressing while Johnny gets his boots on in the other room. 
“I’m so embarrassed,” you breathe, quiet so that Johnny could not overhear if he happened to be standing right outside the door. Your head is spinning, and only partly from all the wine. Your face burns. Your heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Johnny has seen the videos, the ones you and Simon cheekily dub ‘home movies’! God, how you will ever face him again is beyond you. 
“Give me the word and I’ll throw him out,” says Simon. “We’ll never see him again.” 
That makes a sick feeling rise up in the back of your throat. You look up at Simon and take in the somber, angry-adjacent expression on his face, and you know that he is serious. Simon never says a word that he doesn’t mean. But you can hear what he didn’t say, the words unspoken: it would kill him to do it. All their years spent watching each other’s backs, it would be hard to stab Johnny’s and leave him in the cold. Especially after the bliss of just getting him back.
You don’t want that. Not for Simon, not for Johnny. Not even for you. 
“I like Johnny,” you affirm. “I just don’t know how I’ll face him.” 
“You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. He’s the pervert looking in through our window.” 
“We’re the perverts fucking with the blinds wide open,” you remind him. 
“I’ll see him out. Finish getting undressed,” he says, disappearing through the doorway. You hear the warm timber of his voice matched by Johnny’s and the sound of the front door opening. Two sets of boots crunch through snow, and now the voices are so far away that you can’t even make out their tone, much less their words.
Stripping the last of your clothes off, you roll onto your belly and bury your face in your pillow. Tonight had been going so well. It was hard to believe how far off course things had become. What was Johnny doing looking for couples porn anyhow? 
You roll back over, staring into the darkness of the ceiling. The answer was simple: because it would get him off. It didn’t matter if it was tentacles to titjobs. He’d more than likely been looking up porn while he jerked off. 
Had he realized right away that it was you and Simon and turned the video off in disgust? Or had it taken a moment for it to sink in? Had he cared at all? 
Or had he jerked off instead? You realize you are rubbing your thighs together belatedly and force yourself into stillness. 
The front door opens, Simon stomping inside and taking off his boots. When he joins you in bed, his cheeks are still cold, mouth minty from hastily brushing his teeth of tobacco and wine. You lean in and kiss him, looking for comfort. He kisses back, sweeping his tongue through your mouth, sucking on your lower lip. 
“I’m not in the mood tonight,” you whisper when you both part, not necessarily out of truthfulness, but because you feel like you shouldn’t be in the mood. 
“Wasn’t expecting anything.” 
You lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heart. Your embarrassment is a little lessened now, abated by the calm that Simon exudes from his pores. It’s hard to believe that anything in the world could go wrong that Simon couldn’t handle with a twist of his hand or a few choice words. After a while, you glance up to find him still awake, staring into the darkness of the room. He meets your eyes and gives you one of his rare, wane smiles. 
“What are you thinking about?” you ask him. 
After a moment of silence, he says: “Our next video.” 
((AMATEUR COUPLE: WAKING UP MY WIFE WITH MORNING SEX. Soap knows that he shouldn’t click on the link. The first time was an honest mistake, but anything afterwards is intentional—and unforgivable. If Ghost were to find out…Soap doesn’t even want to think about it. 
Except why would it be wrong for Soap to do it but right for a bunch of strangers? 
He doesn’t need to look down to know his cock is hard. Against his better judgement—or any judgement at all, really—he clicks the link. The video starts with Ghost in the frame, completely naked. He’s seen LT naked often enough (it’s unavoidable in such close quarters as they have shared) but he’s never looked, not like this. 
Time has barely changed him. He is still fitter than any man has the right to be, thick with muscles that are for functionality and not just for show—though the show is still impressive. 
While he’d always known that Ghost would be a sight to behold, seeing it in this context cements a fact in his brain, one that had sent him running years prior: he’s attracted to his closest friend. All the bad flirting disguised as taking the piss back when they were in the 141—it wasn’t just taking the piss. Not for Soap, at least.
In the video, Ghost exits the frame and crosses to the other side of the bed. He’s not wearing a mask this time but the upper half of his face remains solidly out of frame until it is offscreen again. You are positioned closest to the camera, laying on your side facing the audience. Your face isn’t visible, but your breasts are once Ghost draws the blankets down, down, and then down far enough to reveal your closed thighs. 
Fuck, Soap wants to see your cunt. He grips his cock tightly and squeezes, watching raptly as Ghost loops an arm over you and begins to softly tease your nipples. Soap slips a hand up his shirt and thumbs at a nipple of his own, wishing it was the other man’s touch. His cock leaks where it lies thickly against his belly as he watches his former lieutenant tease you, trace figures over your naked body, and at last slip a hand between your thighs, working one of your legs over back of his own. Now Soap can see just a trace of your slit, so soft. It makes his jaws ache, makes him want Ghost to hold your thighs apart so that he can lick and suck you into a frenzy.
He can tell the exact moment you wake. Your body stiffens, mouth falling open as Ghost sinks two of his fingers inside you. One of your hands reaches down to grip at your husband’s forearm as you scramble into wakefulness.
“Good morning,” Ghost says.))
-
The doorbell sounds, telling Simon that Johnny has arrived, but he lets his Sergeant wait out in the cold while the kettle finishes filling. A not-small part of him is still holding a grudge against Johnny for making you so embarrassed. It had taken time for you to come into your own. Courage. The videos had been your idea, whispered in the heat of the moment beneath the cover of darkness—but with time you’d been bold enough to talk about them over dinner. To read the comments with him and laugh. To watch the videos and end up in bed all over again. 
Now he could see the hesitation in your eyes whenever he pulled out his phone. 
Johnny’s expression is its typical one, open, friendly, when Simon opens the door. When he sees Simon, those blue eyes grow wide before he can curb the reaction. Johnny swallows, throat bobbing. 
“Hey LT. Lookit you. Laswell really has yeh behind a desk now doesn’t she?” Johnny’s hand reached out like he’s going to touch the tie that still dangles from around Simon’s neck, but he thinks better of it. 
Just another hunch of Simon’s proven right.
“What part of no field work confused you?” Simon asks, stepping aside to let Johnny in. 
“No confusion. Just didn’t expect yeh to look so…” He trails off, eyes flittering over Simon from his combed hair to his dress shirt stretched tight across his chest to the dress slacks that cling to his thighs. “…fancy.”
“I don’t wear the tie for Laswell’s benefit. But you already knew that.”
Johnny flushes, as good an admission as any. Wisely, he says nothing, following Simon into the kitchen and taking an offered seat at the kitchen island. His eyes flicker around the room, similar to how they had on Christmas. Then, Simon had mistaken it for Johnny taking in the way things had changed—the wallpaper is new, as is the backsplash behind the oven and stove, there are new pictures on the refrigerator—but now Simon suspects that Johnny is remembering. Piecing together backdrops he has seen in their videos. 
“The missus home?” Johnny asks, drumming his fingers on the granite. 
“No. Work.”
Simon pours tea for two, even though Johnny hates tea, and slides it across the countertop to him. To his benefit, Johnny accepts it without complaint, warming his hands around the mug.
“I told her.” 
Johnny doesn’t need to ask what or who—they’ve both been thinking about it since the moment he walked in. Simon watches as his face twists with naked regret. It tells Simon that Johnny really didn’t know that you were only feigning sleep on Christmas. 
“Is she angry with me?” 
“Embarrassed.” 
Johnny looks outraged on your behalf. “She has no reason t’ be!” 
Simon shrugs as if to say, This is what your curiosity bought her, Johnny. This is the price she’s paying. Johnny’s shoulders sag under the weight of his own guilt, elbows bracing themselves on the countertop so that he can put his face in his hands.
“Maybe,” says Simon, “it would make more of a difference if she heard it from you.” 
Johnny looks up, brow furrowed. “Heard what from me? That I’ve seen her—like that?” 
Simon’s eyes roll to the ceiling. “No. That she doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of.” 
Johnny turns the idea over in his head. He’s clever, but too blinded by his own desire to see the manipulation for what it is. What does it matter if it’s Simon’s idea or his own? Johnny is dying to talk to you. 
“You’d give me her number?”
Simon shrugs.
“Alright,” says Johnny at length, drawing the word out. “I can do that. If you think it will help.” 
Simon says nothing, sipping at his tea to hide any smugness behind his cup.
-
((The video begins in a kitchen, one Johnny has been in many times. You are there, back mostly to the camera, pressed against the granite island countertop. Simon is on the other side of you, consuming all your attention. Steaming Jesus, he’s huge compared to you, huge compared to everyone. He’s dressed in his work attire: dress clothes, dark tie in place. The effect is jarring in contrast with the mask. 
Simon reaches up and works his tie loose and off over his head. You tilt your head down a little and on it goes, easy as anything. When Simon turns you to face the camera, the tie dangles between your bare breasts. One hand on the nape of your neck, Simon bends you forward towards the granite and Soap can tell the exact moment his cock slips inside you based on the way your mouth falls open, your eyes squeezing shut behind your own mask. 
Soap isn’t sure who he’s jealous of more—you or Simon.))
-
Simon told me that he told you what I found. I just wanted to message you myself and say how sorry I am if I embarrassed you. 
You sigh reading over the text message. Flexing your fingers, you give a quick glance toward where Simon lays dozing with his head against the back of the couch, feet up on the coffee table (the knife he got for Christmas rests on his chest; he’d been toying with it absently for the last half hour) and answer: There’s no reason to apologize. It’s not your fault I’m embarrassed. 
It is though, isn’t it? You don’t care that other people see. You just care that I did. 
You pause and bite at your nails, thinking over his words and how to respond. He’s mostly right. There had been an aspect of embarrassment at first when you and Simon began posting the videos (and that embarrassment had gotten you off to a certain extent, though it didn’t usually). But eventually that heated shame had melted away into eagerness for the camera. You’d read the comments on the videos, countless human beings talking about the various ways they masturbate to your sex with Simon, talking about the things they wish they could do to you, with you, with Simon. 
So why was it so much more embarrassing knowing that Johnny had seen? Because he knew you. Because he’d seen the parts of you that you had purposefully covered up for the camera. No one was meant to see both sides—no one was meant to have all of you. Except for Simon. 
But if somebody was going to do it, a small part of you is glad it was Johnny. 
You’re Simon’s friend, you message back, curious. Didn’t it feel strange to see us like that? 
Honestly? He doesn’t wait for you to respond. Not as strange as I might have thought. 
-
((AMATEUR COUPLE: WIFE PRACTICES HER BLOWJOB SKILLS, the video is aptly titled. You are on your knees, hands tied neatly at the base of your spine. Simon sits at the edge of the bed, camera positioned perpendicular to you both, with a downward angle.
You lean forward and let his hard, flushed cock disappear past your lips deeper, deeper, until you reach the limits of what you can take without preparation or practice. His hand comes down to rest softly against the back of your head as you make yourself gag and choke around the thickest part of his cock. There’s no need to hold you down; Simon doesn’t even bother.
Soap’s jaw aches, desperate for a chance to be on his knees for Ghost like that. He could take more than you—he knows he could. Not that it had to be a competition, not when you both could share a cock that size and barely notice the other was there. He strips his own cock thinking about it, eyes falling shut as he lets the background noise of the video—Simon’s gentle praises, your whines and chokes, the wet gurgles of a throat being fucked—carry him over the edge.))
-
New Year’s Eve. 
The house is full of bodies and laughter. You feel near-delirious with your own joy, never made happier than by the happiness of the people around you. Alejandro and Rodolfo had flown in and were staying in the guest house through the New Year, arriving only yesterday with enough luggage for four between the two of them; Kyle and his girlfriend; John and his wife; Kate and her partner; even Farah and her brother had made a pit stop to spend the evening with you on their way back to Urzikstan from the Americas. 
The party had been BYOB, and everyone had taken to the sentiment and more. Farrah is mixing drinks in the kitchen, strong concoctions that even John struggles to keep down. Gaz and Alejandro keep insisting on shots (which you politely decline just as often as you agree. Simon drinks nothing, his tumultuous past putting him off of hard alcohol for good).
People are well and truly drunk by the time Johnny arrives. The whoops and hollers that fill the house have you thinking that midnight has come early. A swarm of bodies surround him, and he is forced to make the rounds hugging each person and being taken to task by them for being gone for so goddamn long. 
He arrives at you before Simon, and his face softens, smile going a little unsure around the edges as he opens his arms for you, the first time he’s seen you in person since Christmas. You could rebuff him, but you also can’t. It’s Johnny. Nearly tripping to toss yourself into his arms, he lifts you a few inches off the floor, nose buried in your hair. 
“Bonnie as always,” he whispers into your ear after putting you back down. His hand tugs teasingly on the short hem of your dress, like he is trying to lengthen it, knuckles brushing your thighs. You swat his hand away, face flushing with warmth. It wasn’t that short. 
“Johnny,” Simon calls. The two men embrace, hug lasting longer than any other. In the distance, you see Gaz elbow Price, jerking his head toward the two men. 
You put a hand on Simon’s shoulder, anxious suddenly. Simon draws back, clapping Johnny on the shoulder. He orders: “Get yourself a drink.” 
“Yessir.” 
“None of that.”
“Games? I was told there would be games,” Gaz says, situating himself between you and Simon. He’s dressed smartly in a dress-shirt with the collar undone. Someone has put a party hat on him, cone-shaped, to celebrate the New Year. You had managed to wrestle Simon into one for thirty seconds before the first of the company arrived; the memory makes you smile. 
“I have Cards Against Humanity,” you offer. 
“Oh, I love that game,” Kyle’s girlfriend says to your delight. 
“No—no—we aren’t in middle school here,” Johnny says. “And if we are, then I want to play truth or dare so my chances of getting kissed tonight rises exponentially.” 
“Come over here and they will,” Gaz offers. 
“Don’t make promises you’re not ready to keep, Garrick,” Johnny warns, grinning. 
“Sounds like something a coward would say, all due respect—” 
Then Johnny has a fistful of Kyle’s shirt, hauling him in for a bold though chaste kiss on the mouth. You are suddenly hyper aware of Simon beside you, standing tall and very still while everyone laughs and cheers at the men’s antics. You can’t deny it’s a pleasing sight, but a part of you feels irritated with the whole display. 
“Jesus Christ,” John sighs, tipping his hat back on his head. “Soap’s right—if you’ve got a normal deck of cards, love, I know  plenty of games for adults to play.” 
“Not sure I want to play those kinds of games with you, John,” Kate says somberly to the laughs of everyone around her. 
“We’ve got cards,” Simon mutters. 
Farah calls to you from the kitchen, asking you to try her latest conglomeration of alcohol. Eager to be anywhere but there, you escape to the kitchen. You lift yourself up onto one of the stools at the island, taking the red plastic cup from her hand and sniffing it. Just the smell burns the hairs of your nose. 
“Jesus, Farah, this could kill me,” you laugh. 
“Pathetic,” she says with a grin to lighten her words. “I think I saw some apple juice in the refrigerator, would you like that instead?” 
“Alright.” 
“A warm glass of milk, perhaps?”
“You’ve made your point,” you say, eyes narrowing in good humor. Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves (and stomach), you take a generous swig of the cup. Fuck, it burns going down and it burns in your belly, like swallowing a lit flame. You cough a little, trying not to gag, and hold up your thumb to her. “It’s great—so good—“
Simon comes to sit beside you at the island. He takes the cup, smells it, and raises both brows. 
“Can I tempt you, Lieutenant?” Farah asks.
“No.” 
“Then I won’t try. Where’s John, he’s never afraid of a challenge.”
Unseen to her beneath the island, fingertips brush your stocking-covered thighs. Your knees clamp together on instinct as you fight not to look over at Simon. What is he doing? 
He strikes up a conversation with Farah about her time spent in the Americas. When his hand doesn’t move, your thighs relax a little. He was just being intimate; often he liked to have a hand on your back or his foot resting against your own beneath the table. It wasn’t his fault you were on edge. Your head spins a little, thanks to the shots and Farah’s drink. Planting one elbow on the countertop, you try to focus on her stories when Simon’s hand moves again, slipping further between your legs. The hem of your dress has ridden up so high in your seated position that it doesn’t take much for his fingertips to graze against the heated seam between your legs. 
You clamp your knees shut again. He pinches your thigh softly, just enough to get the message through to you. Staring at Farah, hearing nothing, you spread your shaking knees again and let him cup you between your legs. Fuck. You tilt your hips, making as if to adjust your position on the chair. It only serves to bring you in closer contact with Simon’s hand. A groan is born and dies in the back of your throat. 
He keeps you there, holding your cunt, having a fluent conversation with Farah while your brain melts out your ears. At length, he stands. Leaning down, he says in your ear: “Outside, two minutes. Go out the back.” 
Then he disappears amongst the sea of people 
-
Three minutes later you are shivering out in the snow. Your coat only helps so much with your legs bare save for your stockings. You hadn’t even had time to lace up your boots. Shifting from one foot to the other in the spotlight of the floodlights to keep warm, you cast glances left and right wondering from which direction Simon will come, wondering what he wants that couldn’t have taken place in doors. 
At last he appears, looking far warmer than you in his olive green jacket and jeans, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. You smile at the sight of him. He doesn’t smile back. 
“Put your hands against the wall.” 
“Simon?” 
He sighs, running a hand over the curve of your waist, testing its fit in his palm. “Now I’ll have to edit that part out. Let’s try again. Put your hands on the wall.” 
You see then the phone placed just-so in the breast pocket of his coat. The glossy camera lens stares back at you, no flashing red light, nothing nearly so 1999. But you knew it was filming. What was it seeing now? The house in the background, the cool blue siding and brick. You, face surprised, lips chapped from the cold weather lately, your sexy little golden dress nearly obscured beneath your coat. 
“The time to back out is now,” Simon prods you. 
But there’s no way you’re backing out, not after the kitchen. Not after the hazy arousal you’ve been walking around in all night just at the thought of seeing Johnny again. Turning around, you reach out with shaking hands and place them against the freezing cold siding. You can see your breath like a smoky plume with each of your frantic exhales as Simon’s hands grip your ass, slipping beneath the hem of your dress and finding your stockings to tug them down around your knees. 
“Got to keep quiet for me,” he says. “Can you do that?” 
“Yessir,” you whisper, wishing you were close enough to the house to rest your heated cheek against it. 
Simon gives a heavy exhale at your words and you grin, unseen. 
Your panties join your stockings stuck around your knees. It doesn’t give you much space to spread your legs, but Simon is so lengthy that he doesn’t need the extra room. He doesn’t press against your back, ever-conscious of the camera and its angles, but you hear the sound of his belt being undone and like a Pavlovian response, it has you drooling between the legs. His cock is burning warm when it brushes against your ass, and you find yourself arching your back, seeking to put that heat inside you. 
He hums, hands spreading you wide as he can for the benefit of the camera, even if the lighting isn’t the best to see your entrance. 
“Pretty fucking girl,” he mutters. The position can’t be comfortable for him, but he’s never seemed to care about that. He reaches down to grip the base of his cock and guides the head inside you. It is a tight fit without any preparation, but he keeps the penetration shallow, rocking you back and forth on just the head, sometimes letting his cock slip free to brush against your aching clit. Your teeth clamp together, desperate to keep your sounds in—usually during home videos, Simon encouraged you to be noisy (“for the audience”). Now you found yourself struggling not to give in to the old habit. 
All of the sudden, his hand is in your hair, turning your head, guiding it to change directions until you are looking at your footsteps in the snow leading back the way you came—
Until you are looking squarely at Johnny, standing nearly frozen in the snow at the edge of the house. He’s wearing his coat and boots, hands jammed deep into his coat pockets. The darkness makes it hard to make out the subtlety of his features, but you can tell that his mouth is dropped open in an expression of near comical disbelief. 
You barely manage to keep from choking out Simon’s name, your entire body going stiff—your cunt rippling around his cock. He laughs, a low rumbling chuckle that has you squeezing your eyes shut. A whine slips free from your throat and the wind must carry it straight to Johnny, because you hear his quiet, Steamin’ Jesus. 
“He’s been waiting for this all night, I bet,” Simon mutters, his hips snapping against yours. Your hands scramble to find purchase against the siding, slip down a little to grip the bricks which offer you more resistance. “Watching you flit back and forth in this dress, knowing what you look like underneath it. He wishes it was him fucking you right now.” 
“No,” you gasp, scandalized. 
Simon just laughs again. The sound doesn’t embarrass you, just ratchets your own dizzying arousal higher. You can’t take your eyes off of Johnny, who has stumbled two or three steps closer in the snow and now has his hand against the house very similarly to you. His other hand is in a fist at his side. Closer like this, there’s no mistaking the heated expression in his eyes. Nor the bulge in his pants. 
“Oh God,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut again and turning away. 
“Look at him—look at him. He wants to touch himself,” Simon says, borderline conversational as his dick makes the most heinous squelching noises inside your body. “But I don’t think he’s got the balls.”
One of your hands comes off the bricks and reaches down between your thighs—but Simon grabs it at the last moment and pins it back in its place, sending you nearly to tears. 
“Cum on my cock or don’t cum at all,” he says, feeling cruel.
The both of you know that that likely means you won’t cum at all, not like this, and the knowledge threatens to undo you. He’s going to get you three-fourths of the way there and then leave you like this, edge you in front of all of your closest friends and not satisfy you until the very last one has left. Tears well in your eyes, beading up at the corners. 
Behind you, his thrusts grow sloppy. You dare another glance towards Johnny and see his turned back, both his hands in his mohawk gripping at his hair like he is fighting with himself. Your eyes fall shut; you’re fighting a battle of your own, you can’t be concerned about his. Simon groans lowly, filling you with his seed. He pulls out in a wet rush of fluids, reaching down to stave off his dripping seed and save your leggings from destruction. 
Gently, he fucks his cum back into you with his fingers. He wipes it across your swollen folds and in the soaked crotch of your panties before pulling them back up to rest safely on your hips. Bending down, he wipes his hands clean in the snow and then on his jacket before helping you pull your stockings up into place. The tears in your eyes have overflowed by now, dripping down your cheeks and off your chin. When you glance over, Johnny is gone. 
“Okay?” Simon murmurs, fiddling with his phone. He stops the video. 
“Yeah,” you sigh shakily. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 
-
Moments to midnight and you are searching for Simon. His figure should be easy to spot, but his head isn’t visible above the sea of people, nor is his baritone voice audible amongst the cacophony of others. 
Someone else is notably missing as well. An itch in the back of your brain swells, one you have to follow to scratch. 
Countdowns begin. You peek out the window nearest to you but see no sign of either man outside in the snow smoking. Watching couples pair off, you pad on bare feet (having kicked off your heels ages ago) toward the master bedroom, slipping into the dim hallway that forks off to the bedroom, the guest bath, and the office. That hallway is where you find them, standing in the dark toe to toe. Simon has Johnny up against the wall, clutching fistfuls of Johnny’s shirt, nearly tearing it. In the dim lighting, you can barely make out their features. 
For a moment, you think they are about to come to blows. You are ready to step between them, to take either of them by the ear like an old school matriarch and remind them that they are friends and they love each other and this is no way to act amongst family—but then the others cry out for midnight and they kiss. 
Oh God, do they kiss. Johnny’s shirt strains in Simon’s hands as he lifts the other man the last few inches needed to slot their mouths together comfortably. There is no chaste peck, no soft exploration of tongues, it is a frenzied open-mouthed devouring of each other, jaws flexing as if to open up and swallow the other whole. 
Claps and cheers ring out in the living room, jolting Simon and Johnny apart. Before you can even string together a sentence, Johnny has brushed by you, one hand pressing at his mouth. He grabs his coat and leaves out the front door without so much as a goodbye to anyone. 
-
The party is over. The sun is rising. Alejandro and Rodolfo have retired out to the guest house leaving you and Simon behind to clean up the mess in more ways than one. Eyes tired but brain buzzing, you come into the living room with a half-filled trash bag in your arms to find Simon sitting on the sofa by the fireplace, his head in his hands. 
You drop the trash bag and go to him, climbing into his lap. He sighs and lets his head rest against your breasts, breaths slow and deep, not betraying any of the turmoil that might be going on in his mind.
“He’ll be back,” you promise, stroking your fingers through his cropped hair. “He’ll come back, baby.” 
You don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t.
“Have you two done that before?” you ask.
Simon shifts. He turns until his ear presses against your sternum, like he is listening to your heart for the answer. He says: “No. Once—almost, I think. But you know what he’s like. So fucking persistent. And bright. Like he’s got the bloody sun inside him.”
“You never told me.” 
“Wasn’t anything to tell.” He looks up at you with dark eyes, decidedly grim despite his words: “We doing this?”
“Seems so,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails just to watch how his eyes get heavy. Simon so often denies himself simple pleasures, but he deserves them. The simple ones and the complicated ones. 
“He belongs to me,” Simon says at length, slow, like he is working it out for himself. “Just like you do.”
“No baby,” you remind him, leaning down to press a kiss to his mouth. “He belongs to us.”
-
((It becomes a degenerate ritual. 
Soap gets home from work and showers. As soon as the steam hits the bathroom mirror, he’s hard, but he doesn’t touch himself; refuses to. He showers and cleans himself perfunctorily, cock aching. It is just as familiar with this ritual as he is, just as hungry for it. It knows what is coming. 
After he is clean and dry, he’ll go naked into his room and bring out his laptop. He always sits at his desk—hates having the laptop on his lap, wants it somewhere stable and safe so he can have both hands free to touch himself—and then he brings up your porn page with Simon. There are more than fifty videos he can choose from. Some he has only seen once, especially those early videos when you both were still getting a feel for the process and working out your nerves. There are others that are old favorites, ones that he knows every word to, one where he could mimic your every sigh and whine if he wanted to. 
And sometimes, like on nights such as this, there’s a new video. His heart jumps to his throat. 
AMATEUR COUPLE: ARGUMENT TURNS INTO SEX (NO AUDIO). Fuck, just the title has mind whirling. It was just for show, surely—he couldn’t imagine you both filming one of your actual arguments for the sake of good pornography—but he was intrigued nonetheless. Some of his favorite videos featured Ghost getting a little rougher with you, and you giving back as good as you got. 
He clicks the link. The video begins in the bedroom, recognizable to him now as your own. The camera is in the corner facing the bed at an angle giving a wide vantage point, like a voyeur standing at attention. Like Soap himself has snuck in and is watching. Just the thought has him gripping the base of his cock, a soft groan passing his lips. 
You’re sitting on the bed, mask in place. Your arms are crossed, mouth downturned into a frown as Simon enters the screen. The first minute or so truly looks like an argument, the occasional jerky hand gesture from you coupled with Simon’s clipped responses. Soap tries to read your lips, but he’s never been very good at it; he can’t make out a single word of what the two of you might be saying. Then the aura changes, the tense energy from the argument turning into something slicker, something sexual as Simon comes around the bed and puts his hand on the center of your naked chest, pressing you back, back until you are laying down. 
You fight against him, batting his hand out of the way. He pins you down easily, so much larger and stronger than you. Soap grips his cock at the thought of being in your place, being pinned to the bed with Ghost’s massive figure over him. Ghost wouldn’t need to be gentle with him either, not the way he was with you. Soap wouldn’t mind. Soap would like it, the same way he liked it in the hallway at your house when Simon gripped him by the shirt and nearly jerked him right out of his boots. 
Your head comes off the bed, mouth chasing Ghost’s—but he draws away. Soap can almost hear the laugh he clearly gives, the rumbling chuckle that would be tangible in his chest. You grit your teeth together, jaw tight. Now when Simon bends down to kiss you, you turn your head away, a childish game of cat and mouse. He grips your chin and turns it back toward him, heavy on the eye contact. When you two finally kiss, it is rough, two hungry people searching for dirty secrets behind each other's teeth. 
Ghost kisses his way down your body, sucking bruises wherever he can. By the time he’s in between your legs, you are writhing, hands gripping his hair and trying to guide his mouth to the place that needs it most. He tugs your thighs over his shoulders, pins you to the bed with one massive forearm, and eats you out like a starving man. The angle for the camera isn’t the best here, but Soap can’t take his eyes off of you anyway: your body tight as a bowstring, breasts pressed together from the position of your arms, tendons of your neck straining as your head tilts backwards. 
Soap begins to work his cock over faster, watching your pleasure. When Ghost stops, he leaves you on the edge if your tortured expression is anything to go by, but you let him maneuver you into the position he wants—hands and knees, an old favorite for LT it seems—but this time is special, because this time you are forced to face the camera dead on. 
It’s like you’re looking Soap in the eye. The brief flash of guilt this gives him only serves to ratchet his desire higher, his cock dripping precum over his knuckles as he fists it. Ghost slips his cock inside you and sets a brutal pace that you are eager to meet, your hands twisting in the bedspread as you press yourself further back against his cock. 
Ghost leans down and mutters something in your ear. More than ever, Soap misses the audio. Whatever he says has your eyes flashing to meet the camera lens, and you do so with near girlish shyness, like you are seeing it for the first time, like you have only just noticed it’s been there all these months. Your eyes can’t catch on it at first, flittering away every chance you get. Ghost’s thrusts slow to deep grinds. He wraps a hand around your throat and says more, lips moving against the nape of your neck. Fuck, what Johnny wouldn’t give to be able to read lips. 
This time you look back at the camera and keep your eyes there. Ghost resumes his thrusts, each one making your breasts bounce softly, but your eyes never leave the lens, always quick to return even when they briefly fall shut. 
Your pleasure waxes when you slip a hand between your thighs, and you begin murmuring something repeatedly, just a discrete little movement of your lips. But at Ghost’s prodding, you begin to cry it out louder and louder until Soap is damn near sure that you are screaming, your lips forming the same syllables over and over again if only Soap were able to make them out. Your eyes roll back as you cum, arms growing weak until you dip and rest your upper body against the bed giving the camera an excellent view of Simon fucking into you from behind, the arch of your body, the curve of your waist to the width of your hips. 
Soap cums when Ghost does, Ghost’s head lolling to the side as his thrusts grow sloppy and forceful, making a mess of you no doubt. 
It isn’t until later when he’s in bed that he recognizes the word you were chanting for what it is. 
How it took him so long to recognize his own name he’ll never know.))
-
He comes back. 
Simon has just returned from taking Alejandro and Rodolfo to the airport. Ever since New Year’s Eve, there has been a quietness about him which breaks prior records. Neither of you say it, but if Johnny leaves this time, it will take more out of him than it had before. It will take something out of you, too. You spend the days trying to keep busy, checking your phone too often for texts that don’t come. 
You’ve just taken the kettle off the stove when the doorbell rings, and both of you know. Your eyes meet across the kitchen. Simon nods his head toward the door, and you rush to answer it, feeling your heart in your throat. Johnny stands there on the step looking sheepish and cold, his boots and the bottom quarter of his jeans wet, like he has walked here from a great distance. 
“May I come in?” he asks. 
Simon appears behind you. Johnny gives him a wavering smile. Without a word, you hold the door open, stepping aside to let him in. 
“Didn’t think you’d be back,” Simon says coolly.
“Didn’t think I’d be back either,” Johnny admits. He wets his lips. “I…I need to come clean. It’s eatin’ me up inside. Can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t fucking think without it being about the two of you. I don’t know what to do with myself except put myself at your feet and ask fer your forgiveness.” 
“Johnny, that’s not—”
“No,” says Simon, stilling the words on your tongue. “I think that’s a good place to start. Get on your knees, Johnny.” 
Johnny blinks once, face the picture of innocent ignorance—but then he is dropping to his knees hard enough for you to hear them crack against the hardwood underneath. He obeys without thinking, because that is something that has always been easy for him to do: obey Simon. Think later. 
Simon’s hand reaches out, slow enough to give Johnny a chance to flinch away, but he doesn’t. Instead Simon threads his fingers through Johnny’s mohawk, the sides which are growing out just a little too long. Johnny’s eyes fall shut at the touch, and the whole thing goes straight to your belly, arousal making your head light. 
“You liked watching so much,” Simon says, voice low and quiet. “I think it’s time we put you to good use.”
-
“We have rules. Don’t look at the camera, don’t say each other’s names, and do as I say. Can you handle that?” Simon asks. 
“Rules of engagement. Yessir.” 
Simon snorts softly at Johnny’s eagerness. “Glad to see you still know to follow directions. But let’s see how well. Strip. Everything off. You won’t need it.” 
Johnny’s hands find the neckline of his shirt and tug it off over his head, revealing a body that is all smooth muscle and tan skin. The dark hair on his chest thickens just below his navel, trailing down into his jeans which he unbuttons without ceremony, feet working to step out of his shoes at the same time. He keeps his balance well, already slipping into a focused, strangely familiar headspace. You make yourself as small as possible on the bed, arms looped around your legs, eyes watching him hungrily. It’s been so long that you’ve wanted to see Johnny like this; now that it’s on the verge of becoming true, you feel shy and unsure. 
Johnny keeps his eyes on yours while he pushes his pants down his thighs and steps out of them. He smiles at you, soft and understanding, and only then do you let your eyes flicker down to take in his cock: he is hard, uncut, thick as Simon even if he can’t have him beaten in length. His dexterous fingers wrap around the shaft, stroking himself, the flushed head disappearing and reappearing in his fist. 
“What do you think?” Simon asks you, voice a low rumble at your side. His eyes are watching you, concerned with you first and foremost. “Is he pretty enough?”
Johnny makes an offended sound. 
“I’d say so,” you answer, aiming for unaffected and landing somewhere amongst breathless. Already you can feel the tension between your legs, a deep seated ache as your pussy drools onto the sheets below you. 
“You want to suck his cock,” says Simon. It’s not a question, but your head bobs anyway. “Go on, then. Crawl to him.” 
Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawl to him, focusing on the mechanics of it instead of trying to feign sexiness. At the edge of the bed, you slip off and down to the floor amongst the pile of his clothes, laying your hands on his thighs and looking up at him from beneath his cock. 
He lets out a shaky breath. “You’re gonna suck my dick?”
You nod. 
Johnny looks to Simon with a helpless expression as if to ask, What do I do? When you glance back over your shoulder, you see that Simon is giving him nothing to work with, face a blank slate except for his raised brows. Phone in hand, aimed at the two of you. The sight of it seems to steel Johnny’s nerves. He’s never been one to be shy.
“Go at yer own pace, lass,” he says.
Leaning in, you trace your lips against the side of his shaft, feeling the velvety softness against your mouth. He smells like he showered before he came over, though you wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t. Johnny always smells good—even on those days before he went away when he and Simon would go running together, pushing each other to their limits, returning sweaty and exhausted. Now after all this time you get to see if he tastes as good as he smells. You part your lips and leave open mouthed kisses along his length, looking up at him through your lashes when you feel his fingers sink into your hair. His mouth is parted as he watches you raptly, pupils blown wide. 
Confidence mounting, you take the head past your lips and suckle, treating him just as soft and sweetly as you know Simon won’t. Above you, he groans, hips jerking until you take another inch or two past your lips. You let him, rising up on your knees to adjust the angle, sinking your way down until his head brushes the softness at the back of your throat. Taking a calming inhale, you swallow and press forward, letting him sink into your throat until your gag reflex can take no more and forces him out. 
Johnny moans like he’s dying, his hands shaking as he fights not to thrust into your throat. Words stream from his mouth, filthy Scottish-tinted praises that have you wriggling in your place, desperate for a hand between your thighs. 
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Simon asks. 
“Never seen no one like her,” Johnny gasps, one hand letting go of your hair so that he can wipe the drool from the side of your mouth. He gives a weak laugh. “And I—fuuck, fuck—I’ve looked.”
“She’ll suck you off until you tell her to stop. Doesn’t matter how long you leave her at it,” Simon says. Fabric rustles behind you, and you ache to be able to turn and see what he is doing. But you are more determined to prove your goodness to Johnny. “Sometimes when I work from home she keeps my cock warm at my desk.”
“Dunno how you get a goddamn thing done with her mouth around yeh.”
“Discipline.” 
“I left mine in my other pants—fuck, I’m gonna cum. Are you one of those dirty girls that swallows?” he asks. 
You nod. Simon is there suddenly, a warm presence at your shoulder as he passes Johnny the camera. Nearly wrecked, Johnny’s hands shake as he aims it down at you, looking at you through the lens. His balls draw up, cock lengthening that last little bit as he spills into your mouth. 
“Don’t swallow,” Simon says at the last moment. You whine but obey. Simon pulls you up and nearly makes you dizzy with the way he kisses you, licks into your open mouth lapping Johnny’s seed from your tongue. 
“Jesus, Mary, ‘n Joseph,” Johnny breathes, belatedly remembering to turn the camera onto you both. This will likely be the messiest video you’ve ever made transition wise, but you have a feeling that it will be your favorite. 
When the kiss ends, you swallow and pull off to open your mouth, showing Johnny—and the audience—what they want: that you’ve swallowed your portion like a good girl. 
“Fuck, I shouldn’t have cum,” Johnny laughs weakly. “We’ve barely started. I don’t want this to be over.”
“You’ll cum again,” Simon says. “But it’s time to give someone else a turn. Sitrep?”
Johnny is all grins. “All good here, sir.” 
It makes you shiver to hear Johnny call him that. You’ve heard it countless times before, but never like this. The context turns the word into something foreign, something sexy. Not to mention, you know exactly what it does to Simon. Not for the first time, you wonder if his wires didn’t get a little crossed during his time enlisted, if he didn’t learn that particular kink from hearing Johnny chirp it at him every day. 
“Good boy,” says Simon softly, reaching out to ruffle Johnny’s mohawk. Johnny bats his hand away, but it’s impossible to miss the way he flushes from the cheeks down his chest at those words. Simon sets the phone on the tripod in the corner, making minor adjustments, and then turns his eyes to you. “C’mere.”
He sets you up against the headboard, your back against his chest. He parts your thighs, reaching down to use his thumbs to spread your sex open for Johnny’s hungry gaze, for the camera’s lens. You hide your masked-face behind your hands, hips rising toward his touch, desperate for the stimulation. 
“Pent up?” Simon asks, voice rough.
A sound slips past your lips, low and needy.. 
“This what you want?” His calloused fingers ghost over your swollen clit. 
“Yes,” you mumble, voice muffled by your hands. 
“Be a good girl and you’ll get it. You know how to be a good girl?” 
“How?”
“Stay relaxed. Keep your thighs open. And don’t lie to me. Can you do that?”
You nod. Yes. Easy things. You fight to relax your body, loosening your muscles. Your hands fall to rest against Simon’s thighs, eyes cracking open to watch Johnny who has seated himself at the end of the bed out of the way of the camera’s view. When he sees you looking, he smiles, reassuring and warm. His cock, which had been soft moments ago, already looks noticeably more interested in the events taking place. 
Simon drags his fingers over your clit. You tense all over, sucking in a breath before you remember his first rule and relax, going loose and soft again. He waits, patient. The next time he strokes you, you stay malleable, and he hums deep in his chest, pleased with the progress. His hand cups your whole sex, palm huge compared to you. 
“When was the first time you ever wanted to fuck our boy over here?” Simon asks. 
You know that he can’t use Johnny’s name, not on film, but neither you nor Johnny had expected the flashbang of this term of endearment. Johnny seems to melt, his eyes going heavy-lidded at the thought of being ‘your boy’. You can’t help but feel the incredible rightness of his words. They resonate deep in your chest like the ringing of a bell, tangible down to your fingertips and toes. Johnny is yours, and he is Simon’s. 
“How long?” Simon asks again, more firmly. 
“Since—since you brought him home.”
Simon slips two fingers past your entrance as a reward for your honesty. Their thickness has you gasping, fingers scrambling for purchase against his thighs. He hums something in your ear—probably a reminder about trying to relax—and you do try, but it is hard when you ache as badly as you do. You find yourself digging your heels into the bedspread, lifting your hips to try and work his fingers deeper inside of you. He feeds them to your cunt all the way to the last knuckle. 
“How’s she feel, sir?” Johnny asks. 
“Like the only heaven the likes of us will ever know.” 
“I believe it,” Johnny sighs. “Give us a taste.” 
Simon extends his fingers and Johnny takes them onto his tongue, licking and sucking the digits clean. You’re close enough to Simon to feel his inhale, to feel the way his cock jumps where it’s pressed against your lower back. He plays at being unaffected, but Simon isn’t immune to the powers of finger-sucking. He isn’t immune to Johnny. 
Then he says: “Put that mouth to work, Johnny.” 
Johnny drops to his belly between your thighs, breath fanning across your folds. Simon has to pin your legs apart, humming when your nails dig into the skin of his forearms. They are teaming up on you, against you, and you feel so small pinned between them. 
“Dreamed of this,” Johnny sighs into your pussy. He nuzzles against you, nose brushing your slit before licking a thick stripe up your folds. He laps at the honey leaking from your entrance, broad strokes of his tongue as Simon’s fingers keep you spread open for his hungry mouth. 
Sometimes Johnny’s tongue laps over Simon’s fingers, and when it does, you feel his cock twitch against your back. It only serves to remind you how empty you feel. Your hands grip Johnny’s hair, guiding his soft mouth to your clit where he sucks and laps contentedly, and you beg for his fingers. 
He moans against you, voice vibrating through your pussy. His hips have started a slow grind against the bedspread, desperate for friction as his blue eyes find Simon’s dark ones, silently asking for permission. 
Simon nods. Johnny slips his middle-most two fingers into you, hooking them softly, searching for that spongy, textured place just inside you. It’s everything you needed, the pleasure in your belly rising to a near painful crest. Your hand scrambles to find one of Simon’s, lacing your fingers together as you burst against Johnny’s tongue, squeezing his fingers, barely remembering to keep from calling his name. 
Johnny lays his head against your inner thigh, panting. His eyes are foggy, pussy-drunk as he struggles to focus on you both, his fingers still tucked softly inside you. 
“Break,” Simon whispers, kissing your neck. He shifts out from behind you, the only one of you still fully dressed. Going to the tripod in the corner, he pauses the camera and then leaves the room.
“Great abrupt bastard, isn’t he?” Johnny asks, slipping his fingers out from inside you. He goes to lick them clean, but you stop him, bringing his hand to your own mouth and cleaning your slick from his fingers, tongue searching for your taste all the way to the webbing between his knuckles. His laugh is breathy. “You like that? Like the taste of pussy?” 
You nod, slipping your mask off briefly. 
“Need a pretty girl to play with then, not the likes of me.” 
Your hand latches around his wrist as he goes to pull away, lips turning down into a frown. “That’s not what we want. We don’t play with people. People aren’t toys to us. And we’ve never had sex with anyone else like this. You should know that from the videos.” 
“Aye,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to offend yeh, lass. I was only teasing.”
“Johnny…” 
“Yes?”
“Why’d you go away?” you ask. You know it might ruin the moment, but the curiosity is too much, an old wound with the scab picked clean off until it aches all over again. “Things seemed so good when Simon and I first got together. You were coming around all the time. Then you just…left.” 
Johnny can’t meet your eyes as he thinks back, as he remembers those days in the year after Simon first met you. When he speaks, his voice is steady. “I told yeh earlier. Couldn’t stop thinking about the two of you. Didn’t feel right to feel that way ‘bout my best mate and his best girl. And when he told me that he was gonna propose to yeh—I had two choices. Stay and watch, or run away. Maybe Simon’s right. Maybe I am a coward.”
“He told me that the two of you almost kissed once. Back during your SAS days.” 
A ghost of a smile appears on Johnny’s mouth. “Outside the Barranquilla, Columbia safehouse. I remember. I thought he would break my teeth if I tried, but Jesus, how I wanted to.”
“I think your odds were 50/50,” you say, scooting back until you are seated in Simon’s old spot, reclining against the headboard. “It started back then for you, didn’t it?” 
“Aye. I was a goner.” 
“You love him.” 
Johnny gives you a secretive smile. He presses his finger to his lips. Shh.
Simon enters the room with three water bottles and pauses, eyes flickering between you both. “The fuck were you two talking about?” 
“Nothing,” you say. “Is that water? I’m so thirsty, thank you baby.” 
“Her subtlety could use some work, LT,” Johnny says, watching as Simon goes and turns the camera back on. You hastily put your mask back in place. 
“Not her forte,” Simon admits dryly. He cracks open one of the bottles of water after tossing the last one to Johnny and drinks half of it in just a few gulps, despite having done very little so far in the scheme of things. You figured that was about to change, watching him shrug out of his shirt. 
Simon didn’t undress the way Johnny did. There wasn’t any fanfare or confidence; it was simple and efficient. You knew that Simon’s relationship with his body was a complex one. It had served him well, and he did his best to keep it healthy, but contemplating the aesthetics of it was too offensive to his palate. The scars were intense: thick punctures along his sides, the depressed, pale pucker of bullet wounds, the hard clean lines of a knife here and there. You had never minded, and judging by the way Johnny’s throat clicks when he swallows, Johnny didn’t mind either. 
“I want to fuck you,” he says. 
“Yes,” you agree. Fingers had been excellent, but nothing could compare to Simon’s cock. 
He shakes his head. “Not you. Him.” 
You turn your gaze on Johnny whose eyes are avidly watching Simon unfasten his jeans. He pushes them down over his thick thighs and reveals he’s not wearing any underwear beneath, his cock half-hard and rosy. He wraps his fist around it, jerking himself to full stiffness with a perfunctory touch, not at all interested in the show he is putting on for you both. 
“Can you take him, Johnny?” you tease. 
“I’ll die trying, thanks very much.” 
“I hope not,” is all Simon says, going to the bench at the end of the bed and retrieving the lube. He asks: “Condom?”
“Not necessary,” Johnny says, breaths coming faster now. You put your hand on his ankle, remembering the way he had touched you there on Christmas, stroking the bone softly. He glances to you and grins, and you see that what you mistook for nerves is actually excitement. He puts his hand over your own, squeezing. “Are you going to feel left out, lass?” 
“Terribly.” 
“If you last the whole time,” says Simon, holding the lube up to the light to see how empty it is. “I’ll let you fuck her when I’m finished with you.” 
“Jesus,” Johnny laughs weakly. “Can’t argue with that. Throw me that and I’ll get myself ready.” 
“I can do it,” says Simon, seating himself on the edge of the bed. Johnny shifts into a better position, feet flat on the bed, knees toward the ceiling. For a long time, Simon just looks at him: his silly hair, the odd scar here and there, his half hard cock. Deftly, he opens the cap on the lube and slicks two fingers while you come to kneel on the other side of Johnny, eager for a show. 
“Camera, love,” Simon reminds you, fingers searching between Johnny’s legs. Judging by the way Johnny’s jaw goes tight, he’s found what he’s looking for. You shift, glancing over your shoulder to make sure you are out of the camera’s point of view. Reaching down, you trail your fingertips gently over Johnny’s cock. Simon says: “Been a while?” 
“You could say that,” Johnny says, mouth falling open in a silent moan as Simon works him open. You’ve been on the receiving end of Simon’s ministrations; you know his patience can be near painful. Johnny learns it the hard way when Simon pauses twice to lube his fingers, until even the soft thrusts he gives into Johnny’s ass fill the room with the sound of sex. 
You play with his cock absently, enjoying being the tormentor instead of the tormented for once. Johnny’s silent breaths turn to heavy pants and then needy groans, foreskin pulling back to reveal the sensitive head as he grows in your palm thanks to Simon’s fingers playing inside him. His heels slip against the bedspread as he searches for the angles that suit him best, and he chokes when he finds them.
“Please, I’m ready,” Johnny says, fingers wrapping around Simon’s wrist. Simon lets him pull his fingers free and reaches for the lube again, this time to slick his cock. 
“Any preference for how I take you?” he asks mildly, like one might ask, How do you take your tea? One sugar please and thank you. 
“None, so long as your cock’s inside me,” Johnny grits out. 
“This’ll do,” says Simon, bullying his way between Johnny’s spread thighs. It takes a few pillows beneath his hips before he’s at the right height for Simon’s cock to notch against his entrance, and then you watch with rapt attention as Johnny’s body seems to blossom to welcome in Simon’s cock, a surplus of lubricant easing the way. 
Johnny flinches. 
“Easy,” says Simon, stilling. “Relax.” 
You curl up at Johnny’s side, slipping beneath one of his arms and cuddling against him. Your nervous fingers find one of his nipples and toy with it softly, kissing at his shoulder while you murmur words of encouragement to him. 
Johnny laughs weakly. “Don’t need all that, lass, but thank yeh.” 
“Wish I had someone cheering me on the first time I took Simon’s cock,” you admit. 
Simon frowns. “I was cheering you on.” 
“Less talking please, more fucking,” Johnny says, lips upturned. His body relaxes and Simon sinks the rest of the way inside him, all the way to the fucking hilt, deeper than you can ever take him in your cunt. It thrills you and makes you envious all at once. You pinch Johnny’s nipple, forcing a quiet gasp out of his throat. 
Simon looks good—strong. Unaffected. But you know him better. His brow is lower than ever, eyes closed as he centers himself. His breaths come so evenly that you know he must be counting them—four seconds in, four seconds out. His fingertips have sunk into the meat of Johnny’s thighs, gripping him tightly, as if to keep him from squirming away, or to keep him from squirming at all. 
“You solid?” Simon asks him. 
“Affirm,” Johnny breathes. “Go slow.” 
Famous last words—Simon withdraws with painstaking care, until just his head lingers inside Johnny’s body. He sinks back in at the most leisurely pace you’ve ever seen, thrusts smooth and deep as his thighs brush against Johnny’s ass. It takes no time at all for Johnny to regret those words, one of his hands laced with yours and the other twisting in the bedsheets as he begs Simon to move faster. 
And Simon can only take so much teasing himself, really. He’s human too. 
His hips snap into the open cradle of Johnny’s thighs. Johnny cries out, cock jerking where it lays hard and leaking against his belly. You lean up onto one elbow so that you can watch his pretty face contort: brow furrowing, mouth falling open. 
“Not going to cum, right?” you ask him slyly. 
He shakes his head. 
You glance down at his cock doubtfully. Simon, overhearing your words, takes that as a personal challenge, drilling into Johnny with a single-mindedness that is admirable to see and terrible to be on the receiving end of all in one. 
Suddenly tears overflow from Johnny’s eyes, dripping down toward his temples. You sit up in alarm as he lifts his hands but he just palms at his eyes, laughing. Simon slows, stops. He reaches down to pry Johnny’s hands away and then kisses him, something soft and sweet. Johnny’s hands shake as he reaches up to thread his fingers through Simon’s hair, tugging him closer.
Your heart feels liable to burst. You remember Johnny’s finger pressed to his lips, that universal sign. Shh. 
“He’s alright,” Simon says, not unkindly. “Aren’t you?”
Johnny croaks an affirmative.
After that, it is less fucking and more making love; there’s nothing else to call in. Simon pins Johnny’s wrists to the bed just to feel like he’s still in control, but his thrusts are syrupy slow, not fully withdrawing, seeking to remain as close to Johnny as he can for as long as possible. You stroke one of Johnny’s palms and Simon lets it free so that you can hold it, your fingers lacing together in a way that is foreign yes, but comfortable. 
“You’ve been a good boy for me, Johnny,” Simon says. 
“Don’t say that,” Johnny groans, turning his head away, flushed pink. 
“It’s true. Know how to be an even better boy?” 
Johnny is intrigued. Being a good boy is suddenly beneath him; now he wants to be the best boy. Looking at Simon through his lashes, he asks: “How’s that?” 
“Cum on my cock.” 
“Don’t do it Johnny,” you whine. “It’s a trap.” 
Simon laughs. He kneels back onto his haunches, dragging Johnny’s body along with him, and reaches for the other man’s cock, working it over in his fist. Johnny nearly howls, kept on the edge so long that to see the bottom of the cliffside is to know the promise of pain. He doesn’t know whether to grind his hips deeper against Simon’s cock or to chase the heat of his hand. 
“Close,” he groans. 
“Go on. Pretty abs like this—make a mess on ‘em.” 
Johnny does, pearlescent seed dripping from between Simon’s fingers as he milks Johnny for every last drop. Only then does he begin thrusting again, fast and hard, searching for his own end. Not a handful of thrusts later and he goes sloppy, breath punched from his lungs as he spills inside Johnny. 
“You promised me a cock to ride,” you say. 
“Couldn’t be helped, lass,” Johnny says with a dopey, lovesick smile. You hum. 
“We’ll just have to get you hard again, won’t we?” you ask, wrapping your fingers around his softening cock. 
-
That night, the bed is full. Johnny and you are entwined, legs and arms wrapped around each other creating an endless feedback of heat that Simon was careful not to be swept away in, too focused on his mission to allow for any mistakes. He makes no sound as he slips out of bed. He stops by the tripod in the corner and takes his phone out into the living room, turning the sound down so low that he has to hold the speaker close to his ear to hear it, lest he wake Johnny. 
He listens to you and Johnny talk while he was gone, when you believed the camera to be off. He plays it again, watching just the video. By the time he’s returned in the video, Simon’s chest feels full of pressure, like something is inside him trying to crawl its way out. Love. What does Simon Riley know about love? 
Well, he knows one thing. 
Except maybe now he knows two.
He deletes the video and goes back to bed. 
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hello-eden · 5 months
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dcxdp #33
I am back to continue the de Aged Ellie and Dan, a child of Danny and a bat boy agenda. this time with dick Grayson.
Ellie and Dan de-stabilized to a core form. Danny is of course panicking trying to figure out how to bring them back but they're safe for now. Clockwork tells him that he needs to incubate the cores himself but that it's going to take a lot of energy and that it's probably not safe for him at this moment. Clockwork sends Danny to the DC dimension to have a calmer time away from all the fighting and to make sure he can recover mentally and physically from everything that's happening in Amity. It basically turns into a summer holiday away from home/ vacation.  
Dan needed more than just Danny's DNA to stabilize Due to Dan being a hybrid of Danny and Vlad originally, so Clockwork sent Danny to the dimension to pick a donor not that Danny knew that. Danny decided to incubate both cores at the same time so that biological change also happened to Ellie. 
Danny meets dick while he is there and has a cute Summer Fling with him while he's in that dimension. In dicks timeline he's in the range of still being Robin or just going out to bludhaven. Danny starts incubating the cores while in the DC dimension around dick mostly because he knows it's safe for him there. 
He has one human doctor's appointment there and then goes back to his dimension for the rest of the technical pregnancy. Dick has no idea about Ellie or Dan as well as no idea about Danny being from another dimension. The two of them had a civilian Romance.
Danny later returns to the DC Dimension with Ellie and Dan years later after having a very bad run in with the GIW. All of them are recovering and Danny accidentally runs into dick. Danny doesn't know that due to being around dick in the start of the pregnancy caused a lot of changes in Elie and Dan's biology.
Danny and dick See each other a couple of times like going for a coffee before dick finds out that Danny has kids. Danny not knowing the kids are dick’s doesn't feel like it's relevant to tell him especially after the very bad run in with GIW which makes him overprotective.
The kids would be about 6 or 7. 
Dick meets the kids and does a little bit of mental math realizing that there is a possibility the kids are his. He is in denial for a moment thinking that Danny would tell him if they were his especially now that they've talked again but then he does research. He doesn't find anything on Danny except for the one doctor's appointment from when he was still in the dimension last for pregnancy. The doctor was heavily liminal so they understood what they needed to for pregnancies but they also did it in human terms to stop anyone from realizing the pregnancy is different on file. this definitely freaks out dick because they were still seeing each other when they went to the doctor.
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thebestsetter · 1 month
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"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"
"Why?"
"Non-important. I just feel it"
He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.
You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.
"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"
"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"
"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.
"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.
"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"
"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"
"What?"
"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"
"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"
"You remind me of purple"
And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.
"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."
"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"
"'Course we are"
"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"
"I'm not saying it again."
So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.
RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!
Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!
Masterlist
Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him
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misserabella · 4 months
Text
ask nicely
bodyguard abby x str!pper reader
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summary; your night was going good until some asshole tried touching you. abby stepped in to save you and took you to a safe place. what happens when you find yourselves alone in a private room?
cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, sa (groping) coming from a man towards reader, abby kicks him out, tension, reader flirts, reader is in lingerie, abby being a gentlewoman, drinking (reader), lots of teasing, groping (coming from abby so we like it), making out, hair pulling, dom! abby and switch! reader, bratty reader, abby being an asshole, praising, begging, dirty talking, tit and nipple play (r receiving), use of good girl, choking, multiple orgasms implied, lots of teasing…
you were having a pretty good night. the club was full. your makeup looked gorgeous, your dancing routine had never came out better and the money kept flowing in steadily.
but of course something, or better said, someone had to come by and ruin it.
his hands are warm, and big on your hips, his breath smelled like alcohol as he leant on your face, trying to kiss you. “come on, sweetheart, just one little taste…” you were dodging his attempts, trying to move away, but he’s insistent and you’re getting tired of it.
lucky enough, a kind soul comes to your rescue, taking you out of the disgusting man’s grasp. you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see her. her 6ft tall height, her muscular arms dressed in a tight black muscle tee and his big thighs in a just as tight black pants… its making you salivate. her blonde hair is up on a braid, and there’s a scowl on her pretty features as her rough voice cuts the air.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
it makes you shiver. how she handles the man that easily, how she manhandles him and pulls him away from you as if he weighted nothing. your thighs clench at the thought of being under her touch and strong hands. would she be rough with you too? would she manhandle you like she had with the man? would she be soft, treat you kindly?
“kick this fucker out.” your mind was spiraling in thoughts as the other security member came at her order and took the man away to kick him out of the club, but she pulled you away from all of it with her voice, this time softer, worried.
“are you okay?” your eyes met her sky blue ones, and you swore you could melt. you fixed your lingerie set, somehow worried you’d be in disarray. you weren’t. you looked as perfect as ever under her glance. irresistible.
you nodded, afraid that if you spoke she’d understand the whine in your voice. how her protection affected you.
“come with me.” she offered, her warm hand on the low of your back to guide you to one of the private rooms where you took clients for private shows.
you found yourself walking slower than how you usually did to elongate the feeling of her touch on your skin, your hips swaying at her side.
you sighed when you heard the click of the door behind you, your hands making quick work of pouring yourself a drink.
“thank you. i needed some air.” you muttered to the woman, who nodded.
“i figured.” she gave you a soft smile.
“would you like some?” you inquired her, raising the bottle of bourbon.
“sorry. working.” she turned the offer down, and you grinned.
“responsible. cute.” something inside abby stirred at your comment, her cheeks reddening slightly under the dim lights. her eyes were everywhere but on your body, and you noticed.
you took a sip of your drink, sighing.
“my night was going so good… until that pig started bothering me.” you said. “but thanks to you… i don’t have to worry about no one touching me again, huh, abby?” you smirked, your voice low, sending shivers down her spine as your heels clacked towards her.
you’ve been observing her for a while, craving her for just as long. and you could tell she did as well. so what was stopping her? was she afraid she’ll break you? if so… why did you want it so badly?
“i wouldn’t let anybody touch you…” she swallowed, her eyes on yours, even when you stood practically naked on front of her. such good manners…
“good…” one of your manicured nails trailed down her chest, she took a step back, her back flush against the door, with no scape when you followed her. “‘cause i wouldn’t let anybody touch me except you.” you smiled, and her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar.
“except for me?” you hummed, your chest pressed against hers as you looked at her lips. if she didn’t want that she could easily deny you, push you away, but she wasn’t, and she wouldn’t.
“only you.”
your words seemed to shift something in her, ‘cause next thing you knew is that it was you the one being caged in between her strong body and the door, her lips hungrily ravishing yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. you moaned against her mouth, giving her the opportunity to push her tongue inside, tasting the bourbon out of your spit. your arms surrounded her neck, pulling her closer, her own on your hips, pressing you against her front.
“abby…” you sighed as her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth slightly biting your sensitive skin.
“you don’t know what you do to me…” she muttered. “always looking so perfect… so fucking beautiful. makes it difficult to hold back.” you smirked, pulling from her perfectly made braid and winning a groan.
“then don’t. i like you when you’re gentle with me. but i think i’ll like it more when you aren’t.” she bit down on her lip.
“fuck. you drive me crazy.” you smiled as her warm hands cupped your ass, hosting you up so you’d surround her hips, walking you towards the sofa or the room to plop down, pulling you down against her strong thighs.
you sigh, your hips waving against hers, making her grunt as she gropes at the meat of your ass, thrusting you harder against her body. you can see the way her muscles pop in her arms, feel how her thighs clench underneath you. and it only adds to the wetness that’s already soaking your lace thin panties. the fact that it was the only thing that kept her from touching you was driving you insane.
your hands came behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving it aside and biting your lips under her hungry gaze. you smirked, taking the back of her hand and pulling her towards your chest, moaning when she gave you what you wanted, her lips wrapping around your perky nipples, sucking and licking over the buds until spit left them shiny and her teeth, swollen and sensitive. as she played with you, one of her hands, —the one that didn’t play with your free breast— came down in between your legs, her expert fingers touching you from beneath your panties.
“you’re soaked.” she smirked as she noticed the slick mess you’d become by just a few kisses and touches. “someone needs it bad, huh?” you groaned.
“give me what i want.” you ordered as you tugged from her hair and she scoffed.
“manners.” she answered. “only good girls get what they want. if you want something you need to ask for it.” you whined.
“i want you to touch me.”
“but i’m touching you.” you moaned as her fingers squeezed your nipple.
“you know what i mean…”
“i still want to hear you say it.” she whispered and your hips rocked against her fingertips in seek of relief.
“i want your fingers. in my pussy.” you breathed against her lips. “is that clear enough for you?” you spat, and she chuckled, humming with that cocky smirk of hers that you’d absolutely despise if it didn’t turn you on so much.
“say please.” you groaned, looking down at her as daggers left your eyes. she was teasing you. pushing all your buttons to break you. and she did.
“please.” you gritted in between your teeth, and she pinched your nipple harder, making you whimper and your hips buck as she pressed up against your cunt with her hand, brushing your clit.
“be sweet about it.” you were pleading now.
“please abby, please. fuck me.”
“atta girl…” she praised in a low voice, and then she was pushing your panties aside and finally giving you what you wanted. a honey sweet moan left your lips when her fingers brushed your sensitive clit, drawing tight circles that left you shuddering.
she whistled due to how easily her fingers slipped in between your folds. “completely soaked for me, huh? so fucking pretty…” all breath left your lungs as two of her thick fingers plunged inside of you, stretching your walls and making a slick sound dive into the music that surrounded the two of you. “so tight…”
“fuck.” you groaned as she curled them, easily finding your g spot and making your back arch.
“right there, hm? look at you…” her free hand came up to surround your neck, keeping you in place. “so ready to take everything i give you, hm?” you nodded.
“yes… yes, please. anything…” you begged as she started to thrust in and out of you, your slick wetting her fingers and making white rings up her knuckles.
she chuckled. “so all i needed to do for you to behave was bury my fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, huh?” you whimpered when she curled them once again.
“shut up.” you stuttered and she laughed, curling her fingers faster and harder, making you moan and curse. “fuck, abby...”
“you sound so pretty like this, moaning my name. do it again.”
“abby, please, make me cum, please…” her thumb came up to your clit, and her grip on your throat tightened.
“you wanna cum? wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded. “then beg for it.”
“please…” you cried out, feeling the warmth on your lower stomach rising. you were so close… “please let me cum, please…” she hummed.
“such a good girl…” you whimpered at the praise, your walls clenching around her fingers. “go ahead angel, wanna see it drip.” with a few more curls of her dingers and circles on your swollen and sensitive clit, you fell apart, moans spilling from your lips as she helped you ride it, sucking at your nipples to extend it. “thaaat’s it. good fucking girl.”
it was not necessary to say that abby made you cum again, and again, and maybe a couple more times…
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deadsetobsessions · 7 months
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Gothic mushroom shaped candles. Danny picked one up, grinning. Sam would have love these on her alters. Very Sam, very Gotham.
It a bit bittersweet, now that he could think of her without being paralyzed by crushing grief. Her and Tucker both. Danny turned, keeping an eye on Tim as he glared into the case of used cameras.
Danny walked over and tried not to feel guilty about practically mooching off of a child. Even if the money he was using was actually the Drakes’.
“Like anything you see?”
Tim shook his head. Danny pondered over what little he knew of photography- all of which he learned from documentaries that were more focused on nature.
“I think there might be a camera store a couple of blocks down. We could get the ones that takes photos of animals, like the really big ones that takes photos of wildlife?”
“I guess. I mean, I don’t need it since we can…” Tim glanced around suspiciously. Danny willed his mouth to not smile at Tim’s antics. “Fly close,” the kid finished in a whisper.
“Okay, but what about when I’m not there?”
Tim hunched up on himself and Danny despaired inwardly. Uh oh, what did he say now?”
“Are you going somewhere?” Tim quietly asked, sounding hurt and upset.
“No,” Danny soothed, patting Tim on the head. I mean, what if I’m busy with stuff but you want to go take pictures without me?”
“You said to go get you whenever I wanna go out to take pictures.”
“Okay, yeah, I- well, we might as well get you a quality camera, right? To take really really good pictures of the… local wildlife. Like… the birds and the bats, and all that.” Danny winked exaggeratedly.
Tim blinked and giggled when he got the joke. “Okay, as long as you’re staying!”
Danny grinned, fangs and all. “Of course.”
——
At the end of their shopping spree, generously provided and sponsored by the Drake family and their heavy black card, Danny got a phone and Tim got a wild life camera that was a whopping $4,000 but was compact enough to not look absolutely ridiculous.
“It’s heavy!” Tim whined, as he grinned like a loon.
“It’s quality,” Danny plopped the shopping bags on the island in one of the giant kitchens Drake manor had. “I’ll make dinner. You figure out those settings and you can tell me about it when we eat.”
“Okay!” Tim hummed excited, quick fingers and laser focus already aimed at his new device.
Danny picked up his new phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. As it rung, Danny held it up to his ear and began prepping the ingredients. At least
“Hello?” His sister’s cautious voice came through the phone. Danny’s shoulders relaxed.
“Heya, Jazz.” He could see Tim’s ears all but perk up in order to eavesdrop. His mouth quirked up in amusement and Danny turned away. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging that kind of behavior… but it was funny.
“Danny! Are you okay? I- I heard that they chased after you and I was worried sick! Are you safe? Any injuries? Do I need to pick you up?”
“I’m good. Promise. Not bleeding out or dying. It’s actually pretty nice right now,” Danny paused before turning back a little more so he could watch Tim’s reaction peripherally. “Hey, listen, can I adopt a little brother?”
He watched Tim sit up straighter eyed flickering up to him and back down again, a secretly pleased look on his face as he figured out that Danny was in fact talking about him.
“Danny, what the hell?” Jazz huffed, audibly relieved to know that Danny wasn’t on his merry way to becoming a full on ghost. “Who, why, and what kind of trouble did you get into now?”
“Hey, this was me getting out of trouble. Those people don’t even know where I escaped to. Tim helped me out a lot,” Danny said in the tone that meant ‘and there’s more to it but I can’t tell you right now.’
“His name’s Tim?”
“Yeah, you wanna say hi?”
Tim looked terrified as he heard Danny’s side of the conversation. Danny could relate.
“Alright. But you’re explaining everything later, got it?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Danny turned to Tim, abandoning the peas he was shelling and rinsing off his hand to hold the phone.
“Tim, my sister, Jazz, wants to say hi. Are you cool with that?”
“Uhm! Yeah! Yeah, sure.” Tim, honest to ancients, squeaked. Danny’s enhanced hearing could pick up Jazz’s already melting heart. He taped a button.
“Jazz, you’re on speaker.”
“Hey, Tim. I’m Jazz. Thanks for taking care of my little brother!”
“Uh, hi, Jazz! I’m Timothy Drake! And, uh, you’re welcome! Anytime!”
Tim glanced at Danny for reassurance, relaxing a bit when the halfa threw him a double thumbs up.
Jazz went quiet.
“Jazz, you good?” Danny asked.
“We’re adopting him. Danny, you better make sure knows about everyone. Hi, Tim, I’m Jazz, your new big sister.”
“Uh- I have parents.”
“That can be fixed,” Jazz casually brushed off. Tim looked like a deer in headlights, so Danny took his sister off speaker and went back to cooking. He made sure to smile at Tim.
“Don’t worry, we won’t adopt you if you don’t want to. But it wasn’t a joke, we’re very serious.”
“I’ll think about it?”
Danny shrugged. “Good enough for me.”
“So, where are you?” Jazz asked him, rustling coming through on the phone.
“Gotham.”
“You are so fucking lucky I love you, dumbass. I’ll be there tomorrow at noon.”
“Playing hooky, are you?”
“Fuck off, little brother, before I show Tim your toddler pictures.”
“Thanks, Jazz.”
“Bye, Danny. Don’t get killed again when I’m not there, got it?”
“Sure, sure.”
Danny smiled and returned to his agenda of stuffing as many vegetables into one meal as he can. At least the food isn’t trying to tear out his face.
——
Robin hasn’t heard the eerie giggles around lately, but he’s been practicing his own. It’s weird though, because there’s always a glint of something in the corner of his eyes.
“Robin, muggers.”
“On it, B. Shall we, Batgirl?”
“Let’s go, Boy Wonder.”
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wosohours · 16 days
Text
commitment - leah williamson x reader
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You always heard about “don’t date athletes” and “athletes are players," but of course when good advice comes your way, you ignore it.
It was a bit insane to think that you could start talking to the one girl who could not be bothered with being in a committed relationship. That gut feeling telling you “Don’t get too close”, “Don’t entertain her”, or “Don’t fall in too deep” but you once again ignored it.
Honestly, you could not help it. It was like a craving to be around Leah all the time. It almost felt like an obsession of wondering, “What is she doing?”, “Where is she?”, “Is she thinking about me?”
Constantly checking your phone to see if she messaged you. Looking at her social media every hour on the hour. You were in deep and you knew it would eventually lead to hurting yourself. Yet, being someone with the typical heart-eye delusions, the thoughts in the back of your mind kept saying, “She will change for you.”
Trying to distance yourself never worked because every time you were at a safe enough distance she kept pulling you right back in. Leah knew that she had some type of hold on you and constantly used that to her advantage.
Just last week she was barely texting and calling you back. You understood that she was not obligated to do so since you two were not officially together, but you were most definitely a little…maybe even a lot more than “just friends.” The dates, the romantic gestures, and the PDA all confirmed that but you could never understand her constant pushing and pulling.
Leah knows exactly how to make it up to you though. She texted three days ago saying how sorry she was not keeping in contact, how she misses you like crazy and how she planned a whole day for just the two of you. You were strong this time, wanting her to feel how she makes you feel by not texting back and declining her calls those three days. Yet one slip of weakness and here you are right back in her bed.
____________________
“I missed you so much you have no ideas.” Leah tells you as she feathers kisses all over your face as you both lay in bed naked.
“Oh really? I would not have guessed.” you said as you sat up from her chest and moved away from her a little. She froze looking at you with that cute frown that is usually stuck on her face and said, “Baby I told you I am truly sorry, I really mean it. I have just been a bit busier since the launch of my third book. You know this.”
Leah wraps an arm around your waist pulling you back down closer to her. “I am here now though, aren’t I?” You hesitantly relax into her and say, “I know but a simple text or any sort of reply would have been nice. I just missed you.” You can feel Leah smiling against your hairline after she lays a soft kiss there. “I missed you too babe.”
After a moment of you two just enjoying each other's company she says quietly, “How about we get up, you come shower with me, and then we can go out and get some breakfast?”
____________________
Once again the cycle repeats itself with Leah distancing herself. No longer answering calls or texts. Although it hurt, you thought it would be best to leave things the way they were to protect your peace, even pushing yourself to be petty enough to block her number. It was almost like you were putting her up to the test to see how far she would go to get your attention.
Although she did swipe up on one of your Instagram stories of you in a tight shirt with no bra saying, “I’ve seen it, now delete it,” but you ignored that as well.
____________________
Since being friends with Leah for many years you have grown closer with some of the Arsenal girls and with them loving your company, a couple of them have asked you to join them in celebrating the end of their USA tour at a local pub. People are either mingling by the bar, doing karaoke, or sitting around the reserved private table in the back.
Currently, you are at the bar getting a drink and you can feel Leah’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.
“What’s going on with you two? You have been more grumpy than usual,” Katie teases Leah as she sits in the empty seat next to her. “She's ignoring me,” Leah sighs, still looking at you.
“What have you done this time?” Alessia asks from across the table. “I’ve been kind of avoiding her again. I don’t mean to but I don’t know what I’m doing.” Leah replies.
“Have you tried talking to her about how you feel? Do you actually want to have a serious relationship with her?” Katie asks.
“No, I haven't talked to her. Every time I try to talk about us my mouth goes dry and all of a sudden I can’t think, and of course, I want something serious with her I’m just nervous,” Leah shakes her head and looks down at her fidgeting fingers.
Lia, who has been listening to the conversation from her seat next to Alessia, speaks up, “Well you might need to tell her soon because the bartender is flirting with her heavily.”
This causes Leah’s head to shoot up in your direction and sees the bartender smiling at you and reaching her hand over to rest on your forearm. “Yeah, not happening.” Leah quickly stands up from her seat and pushes past people to make her way over to you.
When she gets to you she gently wraps an arm around your waist not to startle you and pulls you back into her chest. She gives her glare that she usually saves for the pitch to the bartender, making her quickly release your arm and turn her attention to another customer waiting at the other end of the bar.
Leah smiles when you relax into her and she whispers in your ear, “You’ve been avoiding me.” You slowly turn around until you are face to face with her and say. “Hurts doesn’t it?”
“I deserve that. Why don’t we go have a chat and I will explain myself?” Leah says, moving her hand to grab yours. “Really? You want to talk now and here?” you scoff.
Leah just nods and gently pulls your hand so that you follow her out to the back patio of the pub. She sits on a bench that is a little bit away from the loud building and pulls your hand down to sit next to her.
“You know you shouldn’t just flirt with anyone, she could've just been charming you into being her next one nightstand,” she says.
“Hmm, pot meets kettle huh? You would know,” you scoff pulling your hand away from hers.
“No, I wouldn’t, because we are more than that,” she firmly replies.
“It sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”
“I know,” she sighs, focusing on her shoes, “but I can explain.”
You look at her and slightly nod your head giving her the indication to keep talking.
“I love everything about us. I love how we are with each other. How easy it is to be around you and the connection that we have. I’m just scared of the reality of us being together because it seems too good to be true,” she confesses. “Don’t get me wrong I do want to be with you and I am serious about you but there is this nagging feeling in my head that I am going to screw it all up.”
You grab her hands gently and say, “That’s completely understandable Leah, I wish you would have communicated with me about how you felt earlier. However, you can’t make future assumptions about something you or we haven’t even tried yet. Neither of us has any idea of what could happen but it doesn’t mean push away and hide from it.”
You continue, “You are looking too far into the future when you should be focusing on right now. That self-sabotaging brain of yours is going to stall you for great things one day.” you giggle pushing her head away making her laugh too.
After the giggles die down she says, “You are completely right. If you allow me to give this…us another try I am willing to put my all into it. I just ask that you give me that reassurance.”
“I can give you that, but you have to promise to communicate with me.” you nod raising your hand to move a piece of hair out of her face.
“I promise to communicate my feelings to you,” she replies leaning into your hand.
You smile and stand up from the bench pulling her up with you to give her a hug resting your head against hers. Leah pulls back a bit to give you a few quick pecks on the lips causing you to giggle and move away.
“My girl,” she whispers, pulling you back against her and laying one last kiss on the side of your head.
____________________
Since that day Leah has kept her promise of communicating more and you have kept yours by reassuring her when she needed it. She even asked you to officially be with her a couple weeks later and it had felt as though something shifted in the air.
She was constantly texting, calling, and wanting to be attached to your hip. When you too were with each other in person she would constantly cling to you but you were okay with it since that is what you were wanting from the beginning.
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sttoru · 1 year
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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
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⟣ sypnosis. you had been in your first ever relationship with suguru for a couple months now. neither of you have taken your relationship to the next level; suguru was extremely patient and never brought the topic of sex up until you one day decide you were ready.
⟣ note. first fic for my event :3 i spent way too much time on this fic so it turned out very detailed, long, romantic and fluffy. i hope you all enjoy and appreciate it teehee. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk ! wc: around 6.1k
⟣ tags. soft dom!geto suguru x virgin!female reader. fluff + smut. slow burn. age gap (reader 20-ish, suguru around 29/30), little talks about insecurity, loss of virginity, breast play, edging, teasing, fingering, lots of praise, dirty talk, size difference!, p in v — unprotected (dont b like reader and use protection please), creampie, aftercare, suguru’s really romantic and just a softie for u, suguru being a good ‘dad’ to mimiko and nanako and teeny tiny bits of him secretly being a pervert.
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never in a million years had suguru expected his girlfriend to be so upfront about such a big, personal decision. the thought of having you say those words had never crossed his mind.
“can you repeat that for me, sweetheart?”
could you blame him for asking you to clarify the words you’ve uttered? that man has seen you as an oblivious and innocent woman ever since the start of your relationship. of course, unbeknownst to him, your thoughts were anything but that.
you may be a virgin, but your mind was a place for the most lewd and nasty thoughts. it’s just that you’ve been scared of being intimate with a man—it’s frightening, especially when having heard the many online stories about how badly it could hurt. some say that such descriptions were over exaggerating, however your inexperience still lead you to believe everything you’ve read about the topic.
and then you started dating an older man named suguru. you’ve met him by chance at a mall in kyoto and he was the first one who approached the other. you remember how suguru politely asked you for some advice regarding what type of presents he should get for ‘two teenage girls’. of course, you agreed to helping him out and that’s how you two eventually ended up brainstorming about possible ideas in a cozy café.
once seated, chosen drinks in both your hands, you asked the man whether the gifts were meant for his daughters. somehow, that’s the first connection the neurones in your brain had made once suguru told you about the two teenagers he was picking out presents for.
you remember it vividly; the sweet, gentle sound of the laughter that accounted as your answer, the eyes of the then stranger looking rather nostalgic as they stared into the liquid in his cup. suguru responded vaguely; “i guess you could say that, yes.”
that little ‘date’—if you could call it that—ended on a wholesome note. suguru thanked you for your time and made sure that you safely got into the train you needed to take home. he did want to offer you a car ride, however he kept that question to himself since he knew that no woman would voluntarily agree to be taken home by a stranger. even if suguru had the purest of intentions.
there were a couple more dates that followed after that one; all where you both gradually got to know each other better. you’ve found out so much about suguru—the details about his own life being both fascinating and sad at the same time. likewise, suguru had also learned much about you. he always shows great interest in what you tell him, even if it’s a minuscule detail. he remembers it all as well—a feature which caused you to feel funny things in your stomach.
you realised you were catching feelings for that mysterious yet sweet and loving man; it was inevitable. the way he makes you giggle, his respectful and easygoing manner of speaking, the slight touches you two shared on accident.. all of it added to your little crush.
however, you didn’t actually think suguru was falling for you too. you only met up for a few times, plus, you seem out of his league—both due to your age gap and difference in the things you’re pursuing at the time. you were in college, trying to get your degree whilst he already had a job as a powerful leader of an organisation and was trying to achieve one of many goals with them.
there’s not a chance he’d like you, right?
wrong. you were confessed to a couple weeks after your first meeting and have been in a relationship for over 4 months now. it still felt like a dream; having your first boyfriend be such a gentleman. it truly felt like you already met the love of your life whenever he was near.
suguru’s been nothing but sweet and caring to you, has never asked you to engage in any sexual activities nor even ever dared to touch you in places you haven’t consented to. the furthest you’ve gone in terms of intimacy in those four months, were make-out sessions. just some tongue action here and there—adding sprinkles of neck kisses and hickeys.
there were times where you wanted to let things escalate, however you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to ask your lover. suguru wasn’t the person to decide your feelings for you either—if there was no verbal consent coming from your lips, he’s not going any further. even if he wanted to as well.
you were grateful that suguru was that willing to wait for you, no matter how long it might take. not only were you anxious of the possible pain the sex would bring, but it was partially due to the fact that your lover was much more experienced in that field.
what if you were lacking? what if it wasn’t satisfactory enough for him and he’d eventually leave you for it? it’s obvious that suguru wasn’t the type of man to actually do that, however you couldn’t stop the many possibilities from running free in your brain.
your change of mind was rather spontaneous; it was today when you suddenly came up with your final decision. you were staying over at suguru’s, the sun was out and he was sitting on his balcony, reading a book whilst sipping on his coffee. what caught your eye was his bare back and the muscles which were on display to you.
suguru was shirtless and the seams of light were making his skin glisten—the view making your own body hot and bothered. you bit your lip and approached your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before kissing his neck. that skin-to-skin contact made you sure of your decision; you needed him. in more ways than one.
that’s how you ended up saying what you said. the statement left suguru baffled since you uttered it in his ear out of the blue. he couldn’t deny one thing however; the idea certainly did send a shiver of excitement down his spine.
“i said,” you repeat with a little mischievous grin, leaning in closer to your lover once he turned around to face you properly—as if searching for any hints that your words were indeed not his imagination, “i wanna lose my virginity to you.”
it wasn’t. you actually said it—the words that would take your relationship a step further. although, suguru couldn’t help but wonder where your sudden decision came from. his hands found their way to yours and he held onto them like they were two delicate flowers.
“i’m happy to hear that, though i’m curious,” your lover starts off carefully as he places chaste yet soft kisses on your palms, “why so sudden?”
you shrug nonchalantly like you didn’t feel that twinge of nervousness in the back of your mind as you felt suguru’s lips on your skin. ‘it really was happening now, was it?’—that kind of feeling was the cause of your subtle anxiousness.
“well, ehh— you just looked good.. sitting there.. i guess.” you mumble, voice trailing off in embarrassment whilst your eyes darted around the balcony in attempt to avoid suguru’s gaze. your flustered expression and adorable confession makes him laugh gently. it was not a mocking laugh at all—more of an amused one;
“just when i thought you couldn’t get any cuter..” the long-haired man muses, the locks of his bangs grazing ever so slightly against your hands as he keeps holding them, “you never fail to surprise me, do you know that?”
suguru had a way with words that made you weak in the knees. or maybe it’s simply because he’s shirtless and kissing your palms so romantically. you don’t know which one it was.
“but, love,” suguru continues carefully as he stands up, your eyes following his as he towers over you, “are you a hundred percent sure? i don’t want to do anything you aren’t comf—“
“yes.” your answer cut your boyfriend off and he’s left in shock once more. your eyes were filled with determination, yet the faint glint of nervousness in them didn’t escape suguru’s sight. you’ve given your verbal consent and are even the first one to suggest the idea— what more could he ask of you?
there hung a silence between you two, the breeze blowing through suguru’s dark locks making him look even more majestic than he already was. you had no doubt about it; today was going to be the day. it had to be.
“then, if you’d let me have this,” his low voice sounded more sensual than it had ever been as his hand found its place on your cheek, fingertips rubbing against your ear, thumb softly pressing onto your skin—
a slow and romantic kiss followed straight afterwards. it had caught you slightly off guard, even when knowing fully well that this was what you were longing for.
his lips moved in tandem against yours, the soft touch making you feel certain emotions that you hadn’t even thought existed. this man whom you called your lover had never been unable to expose you to new sensations. and soon, he’ll grant you another one. a much pleasurable one.
one arm circled your waist, the other held up, hand on the back of your head to deepen the passion-filled kiss you shared. his lips parted your lightly trembling ones, the tips of your tongues attentively rubbing against one another as if to test the waters; was it fine to go further? are we actually doing this?
you were. it was set in stone as your throat formed soft noises of satisfaction, shaky breaths being exchanged by the two lovers on the balcony—not one of you realising that the weather was changing in the background. the sun was setting, creating the perfect mood for the situation as you were still engrossed by each other’s moves and touches.
it was only for the sake of catching your breath that you had pulled away. your cheeks felt hot, as did your entire body which was still pressed against suguru’s—chest to chest. the proximity was one you both had enjoyed many moments before, however this instant was unlike any other. you both knew as you stared at each other in silence, your quick breaths doing the talking instead.
“will you let me..” the voice of which you have grown to adore spoke to you, the owner grasping your attention once more by holding onto your hand. suguru’s fingers smoothly slid across your skin until they found the puzzle they were meant to complete—that being the gaps between your own fingers. once your hands were tightly intertwined, the man finishes his sentence;
“will you let me love you?”
his face was still close to yours as he uttered those beautiful words to you, warm breath lightly fanning the thin strands of hair on your cheeks to the side, lips subconsciously trying to brush against yours once more. but, they could wait. they could wait until the agreement leaves your mouth.
“of course.” the answer escapes before you could even register it properly. this makes suguru smile against your lips as he captured them in another sweet kiss. he muttered a small ‘thank you’ and then swept your legs off the floor—strong arms placed under your thighs to hold you up against his body whilst the hungry kisses continue.
suguru doesn’t know how he got there; carrying you over to his bed, settling you down onto the soft mattress, his body caging yours underneath him, eyes fluttering over every detail of your exposed skin. he hadn’t had you like this ever before; he hadn’t had you in his bed for a reason as sinful as this, only ever for cuddles or sleep.
“you’re beautiful.” the dark-haired man whispers as he carefully takes off the clothing covering your figure—the gorgeous skin his hands still have yet to explore. suguru can’t remember the last time he has treated anyone like this; like a treasure he’s had the honour to find and keep to himself. there hasn’t been a single woman in his life that he’s cared for this much—you’re the only one capable of mellowing him and his heart.
“stunning,” another compliment; another breath spent to praise you. your lover’s fingers teased the edges of your bra, lips kissing down your collarbone and towards the centre of your chest—each touch being done with precision. your bra became undone a second later and you let the straps fall of your arms, all the way until your breasts were fully revealed.
suguru’s breath hitches, mouth forming more saliva than in any previous instants, the liquid being pushed down his throat with a gulp. you didn’t have the chance to feel conscious of yourself in a moment like this; the dim light of the bedside lamp shone on suguru’s face, his lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva whilst his gaze was lingering on the new sight in front of him—he was utterly obsessed.
“may i?” his hands were already reaching out for the plump flesh and they came in touch once you nodded shyly. his palms were warm as they kneaded your breasts and his fingers brushed against your nipples, which made you whimper from how sensitive they were now that someone else has finally touched them.
suguru took notice of your reaction and put pressure on both small buds once again, thumbs rubbing your areolas in circular motions, “that good, princess?”
“mhmm— y-yes,” you mutter through a moan. your body was pushed further onto the mattress as your lover put more of his weight on you, your entire chest area getting covered by licks and kisses, slow and deliberate ones that left you yearning for more. suguru’s eyes gazed up at yours for consent once his parted lips hovered just above your sensitive nipples, his breath on them alone making you squirm already.
with another nod, suguru wasted no time taking one nipple into his warm mouth—wetting it with his saliva as his tongue slid around the area. his long fingers squeezed, twisted and pulled on your other nipple to give you both stimulations at once.
“mm, so good.” his muffled voice caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. suguru slowly lets his lips travel across your tits, sucking on them, even kissing down the curves until he reaches your torso. he gives that area the same amount of love and attention whilst your fingers were tangled around his smooth, long hair. suguru clearly seemed to enjoy the sensations; he let out small moans and hums against your bare skin to indicate that you should continue playing and tugging at his locks.
his tongue abruptly came to a stop right above the waistline of your panties—the barrier he was about to reach past for the first time. the hesitation was visible in his body language, however his fingers eventually tugged at the fabric, preparing to take it off.
your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched suguru slowly pull the last piece of cloth away. your thighs pressed together on instinct, stopping your panties from exposing your bare cunt.
“should i stop?” suguru asks with a raised eyebrow, fingers pulling away from your underwear now that he’s seen you close your legs. you didn’t want him to stop—it’s just the nerves that made your body move on its own command;
“please— no,” you shake your head, biting your lip as you swallowed your own saliva out of pure desire. you craved him now that it’s come this far, “need you. need you so bad, suguru.”
those words caused suguru’s brain to shut down. any irrelevant thoughts were thrown out of the window; the only thing his mind was telling him to do, was to take care of your needs. your body was laid out on his bed—trusting eyes looking up at his in anticipation, pretty hands grasping onto his sheets like it’d calm you down.
“i’m all yours, sweetheart.” suguru sighs, fingertips slightly shaking as he pulls your panties down to your ankles, eyes pausing on the revelation. to say that suguru was simply rendered speechless, was an understatement. that man was on the verge of letting loose of any self-control and just dive his face right between your thighs, eating you out like he’s fantasised of doing for a while now.
“fuck.” your boyfriend closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before opening them to smile down at you—the handsome smile that was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him, “i’ll be careful. i promise.”
naturally, you nodded along. you’ve built up enough trust between one another during the past few months to let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. the palm of his hands patted your thighs slightly before spreading them apart, once again showing your glistening folds, a slight wetness to them from your own arousal.
suguru couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. he’d already have devoured your dripping cunt if it wasn’t for his self-control. but, it was your first time. he couldn’t rush into things just yet.
“thank you, baby.” the dark-haired man whispered under his breath. he was showing his gratitude for the sight you allowed him to see—a sight only he had ever seen before. the only man to be able to witness the beauty before him. that fact alone made his eyes darken in lust ever so slightly.
his fingers carefully slid across your vulva, your bodily fluid coating the skin which makes him shiver and his fingers get bolder. the cute sounds that filled his ears were only making this even better for him.
the way your hips bucked up slightly into his touch—just asking for suguru to take you right then and there—was driving him insane. every vein in his body felt like it could pop with how much he was restraining his own self from acting out of line. his finger easily slid into the little hole and suguru almost couldn’t believe it; your pussy was clamping down on his finger, your insides tightly wrapped around him to the point that even he wouldn’t know if his dick would fit in.
“hnnngh, suguru, please— wan’ your cock already,” that dirty sounding sentence was one he didn’t expect to hear from a virgin. it made him shake his head with a small, delighted chuckle; you really never failed to surprise him.
“i know you do,” suguru purrs, pressing kisses against the curves of your tits whilst another finger of his joined to stretch your pussy out properly, “but i need to prep you enough if you wanna take my cock. can you be patient for me, sweetheart?”
“m’kay. gonna try..” his fingers pumped in and out of you, the feeling of them curling up deep inside you made your walls squeeze against them. you’ve played with yourself before, of course, however it was then that you discovered that nothing could ever compare to the real thing: suguru’s long and slightly girthy fingers.
just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, you felt a third finger—not inside you--but on your clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves like you could’ve never done to yourself. suguru was so precise and exact with his actions which showed his experience. that’s another reason of why you’ve put all your trust in him. getting your virginity taken by a sweet, older and experienced man was probably ten times better than losing it to any guy your age, who were probably only out for sex.
suguru was there to make love to you.
your back arched once you felt suguru’s fingers increase their pace, the wet and squelchy sounds echoing through the room as they got louder the more your pussy got played with, his thumb almost overstimulating your clit to the point of release already—that’s how superb your lover’s hand movements were.
“no, no. can’t have you cum on my fingers like that.” you whine once you felt suguru take his fingers back the same moment you were about to reach your first orgasm by someone else’s hands. the older man smirks at this and kisses you on the lips, pulling away slowly with your bottom lip between his teeth, letting it lightly flop back into place as he lets go; “i wanna have you cum together with me, okay?”
you couldn’t refuse such a romantic request, thus you nod. suguru smiles back at you once more before his hands move to take off his sweatpants, tossing the piece of clothing to the side. your eyes widened as you were propped on your elbows, gaze lingering on the massive bulge formed at the crotch area, his boxers not hiding much of the shape.
once the underwear was off as well—that’s when you realised that your underlying anxiousness was not for nothing. suguru’s cock sprung free, it was slightly curved near his pink tip, drops of pre-cum flowing down the length. you haven’t ever seen a dick in real life, only ever on the internet, so this had left you stunned. you didn’t know what the average size was for a man, but there’s one thing you knew for sure: suguru was definitely way above the average size.
“cat got your tongue, princess?” he teased, his hand absentmindedly pumping his cock to the sight of your naked body underneath him. suguru didn’t even know that he started doing that in front of you; it was out of pure instinct. he couldn’t hide the excitement in his body, his shaft twitching in his hand as if it desperately wanted to feel your tight cunt around it.
“uhm, s-suguru..” you stammer a bit, biting your lip as your eyes followed his hand motions which got faster once your sweet voice called out to him. something about you looking a tad bit intimidated by his size made him want to destroy your insides to mush—have you beg him to fuck you as he bullies his whole length into your poor, small cunt.
“i know, i know..” suguru reassures you, free hand giving you a few consoling head pats, “i’ll try to make it as less painful as possible, okay?”
you hum and watch how your lover settles between your legs, spreading them enough to kneel before you, upper body bending forward to place soft pecks on your forehead; he was encouraging and preparing you more in his own way.
your arms instantly wrapped around his back, sweaty palms set underneath his shoulder blades—you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, just waiting on that moment. that feeling you’ve been craving, yet also have been avoiding.
you waited for a bit, however the only sounds heard and sensations felt were the slight dent in the mattress near one side of your body, the bed creaking faintly. suguru was leaning on side of his body, one arm stretched out to open a drawer, apparently searching for a condom.
once you realised what he was doing, you shook your head and tapped his back twice to regain suguru’s attention. his gaze immediately flickered over to yours and his head tilted to the side in curiosity; “i want the full experience—no condom, please.”
his eyes widened at the request. you seemed to be dead serious, eyes glinting determinedly, lips forming a little pout— it was impossible to refuse you, although suguru knew that he had to play the role of the older, more wise and experienced lover in the back of his mind.
he parted his lips to list off the reasons why you should let him use a condom, yet the words died on his tongue. you were impossible to say ‘no’ to. not when you’re looking up at him with those pretty eyes.
“whatever princess wants, princess gets.”
suguru prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock, circling the hole and wetting it more by using a mixture of his pre-cum and your own arousal. you took another deep breath and tried your best to hold tightly onto your boyfriend, arms wrapped tightly around his back with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck—bracing for impact.
“tell me if it hurts too much,” suguru whispers in your ear, leaving one last kiss on your temples before pushing his hips forward, folds stretching out and apart to allow his cock through and into your pussy.
did it hurt like you expected? yes. it most certainly did. maybe even worse than you were prepared for.
“fuck— nhhh, fuckfuckfuck!” you hiss whilst your nails dig into the skin of suguru’s back, probably leaving red marks because of how much you’re clinging onto him—like your life depened on it. that’s quite literally what it felt like to you; body being forced to part and make way for suguru inside you, pussy feeling like it was burning by how big of a stretch it was to fit him in—if he actually would be able to push all of his inches into your tight hole.
“sshh, shh, it’s okay, try to relax for me, yeah?” your lover comforts you the best he could, stilling his movements for a couple seconds before gently slipping his cock further into you. it pained him to see the discomfort written over your face, however you hadn’t made any clear signs of wanting this to come to a halt. in fact, you were encouraging him to continue whenever he stopped at any indication of hurt.
“i can take it.. p-promise,” you manage to moan out. suguru breathed in deeply at your words and nodded, kissing your lips in hopes to distract you from any pain you’re feeling, “you’re too good to me, sweetheart. really.”
both of you exhaled deeply as suguru finally bottomed out, a long minute of reassurance and pushing now behind your back. your eyes had watered up a little, chest heaving as you tried to accommodate to the new feeling inside of you.
“take your time.” suguru utters gently, voice sultry and sweet whenever its directed at you. his lips graze against your cheeks, smothering the area with pecks to take your mind off anything else. the locks of black hair tickle your chin and nose, the hairtie that usually kept a good chunk of his hair in a bun now out of sight.
suguru hadn’t taken anyone’s virginity before and that’s what also made this opportunity special to him. he didn’t know how to thank you with words, so he showed his gratitude throughout his actions; lips kissing your shiny tears away, moving across your face to your forehead and eventually to your own round lips which had formed a cute pout.
you could feel suguru smile against your mouth, his tongue gently tracing the outline of your lips whilst mumbling words of affection and praise; “you’re taking it so well, baby. such a good girl for me— love you so much.”
you giggled lightly at your lover’s appreciative remarks, focusing on returning the kiss instead of the tingling feeling in your lower body. you pulled away after a bit and looked up at him with nothing but pure adoration; “i love you too, suguru.”
if suguru had the ability to freeze time, he’d want to do it during this moment, just to relive this bit over and over. he’s sure that this exact instant will be engraved into his memory for the many years to come.
and once you’ve given him the green light to move, he did it with caution, slowly but surely. his hips moved back and then forwards, girthy cock dragging along your walls at a leisurely pace, but just enough to make your pain transform into pleasure.
suguru’s big hands were placed on your hips, sometimes they’d leave their position to cup your chin and make you face him. he doesn’t want you to look away from his eyes; he’ll think you don’t like this if you do. besides, the thing he loves most about being in the missionary position, is that he’s able to hear how good he’s making you feel whilst looking into your eyes to see your face scrunch up in satisfaction. it’s so romantic and perfect. just like you.
“my little princess is so pretty.” suguru sighs in content and kisses your tears away, thrusting into your tight cunt in a comfortable pace—not too fast but not too slow, “the way you take my cock and still manage to look beautiful while doing it— you’re incredible.”
if the physical pleasure wasn’t enough, his added commentary would certainly be. you moan and whimper phrases that sound like his name over and over again; you didn’t know what else to say as your mind was foggy with the amazing sensations your body was experiencing for the first time. that was fine with suguru since all he wants was to see you enjoy yourself—this moment was for you. everything he did was for you—every thrust, every kiss, every touch.
“nhhg, too good, so good!” you mewl and leave more scratch marks across suguru’s back, ones which he didn’t mind at all. it only served as further proof of this special moment. the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of your insides, puffy folds parted widely to make room for more of his length until it felt like he actually was balls deep.
“mhm—you’re, haah, tight..” the once calm and collected man seemed to let loose of himself the more he felt your cunt swallow him all the way, gripping onto his dick as if you didn’t want to ever let go. suguru grunts and moves down to leave a couple hickeys across your neck, hips non-stop pushing against yours, “don’t think i can last long—fuck, yeah—you feel amazing, baby.”
your eyes roll back as the pleasure seems to build up in your stomach as well. it felt like a coil that threatened to snap at any moment and it’d release another immense wave of pleasure upon breaking. your body was on fire, sweaty and hot, just like suguru’s.
“can you cum with me, princess? can you wait and hold on for me?” he asks, and the questions sound impossible, however you could at least try your best to fulfil his desires. you’d also want nothing more than to reach your peak together with the man you loved.
“okay—mmhh—together.” you nod and your body tenses up, legs subconsciously moving to wrap around suguru’s waist, heels of your feet simultaneously tapping against his lower back along with his hip movements. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out for as your breathing patterns changes, whiney gasps and choked up moans escaping the back of your throat as your clit bumps against his pelvis over and over.
“almost, almost—“ suguru curses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while yours did the opposite. your body rocked back and forth and the bed felt like it was shaking along as well. you could tell by the way suguru’s hips rolled against yours that he was close—his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes half-lidded but not closed to still hold contact with yours and his hands clutched onto your waist. all indications of his nearing climax.
“mnph, gonna cum— shit, shit, shit, i’m gonna cum—“ suguru swears under his breath a couple times more before snapping back into reality at the last few seconds. he realised once again that he didn’t have a condom on, so his first rational thought was to pull out and finish himself outside of your body.
you were also nearing your own orgasm, not thinking rationally due to the intensity of the moment, any other thoughts except for the man on top of you were thrown out of the window. you felt suguru try to pull his twitching and throbbing cock out before it could spurt its cum inside of your dripping cunt.
you whined and shook your head, pulling suguru in for a deep kiss while tightening the grasp your legs had around his hips; “w-want to feel you cum in me— want you to fill me up while i finish too.”
suguru’s breath caught in his throat, almost choking on his own saliva from your bold requests. his only rational thought instantly vanished from his mind, now all that’s left was pure love, pleasure and desire. the mental image of his cum spilling and filling your pussy to the brim drove him to the edge.
“all yours, i’m going to give it all to you, princess, yeah? fuck !” both of you relinquished in the feeling of bliss, the warmth and build up reaching its designated ending— the expected waves of pleasure washing over you both. series of soft moans, whimpers and groans filled the room as your pussy was flooded with lots of hot cum.
it was like suguru hadn’t came in years—that’s how incredible that orgasm was experienced by the dark-haired male. the same thing goes for you; your legs were shaking, hips squirming up in aftershocks as you squeezed down on suguru’s cock, quite literally milking him dry of every drop.
“nhh, haah— suguru, love,” your tired and powerless whispers caught his attention immediately. your trembling hand held onto his cheek in attempt to make him look at you. suguru’s fingers curled around your wrist, turning your hand away from his face and to the side so he’ll have access to your palm. his lips left a ticklish trail of pecks on them until his mouth found its home: your lips.
the two of you exchanged deep, exhausted breaths, your boyfriend eventually pulling out and rolling onto his side to cradle you into his arms—hand placed on the back of your head to rest your body against his chest. the following seconds were spent cuddling as you tried to regain composure.
“you were amazing.” suguru sighs, chin resting on top of your head whilst his hand rubbed your bare back in comfort, “are you okay, sweetheart? nothing feeling off or anything of that sorts?”
you shake your head and snuggle up against your lover, content with how things are right now. the afterglow of your little session—of your first time, made you happier than ever. you couldn’t believe it’d feel this good. maybe it’s due to the one you’ve lost your virginity to.
“i’m okay.” you mumble and lift your head up to look suguru in the eyes, faces only inches away from each other. there were no words in the dictionary that could describe how you two felt. the closest word to explain it would be flawless.
“i’m glad, baby. thank you for trusting me.” suguru flashes you a small smile and strokes your head. you stay like that, bodies intertwined in a deep and comfortable hug, whispers of sweet nothings filling your ears and subtle gestures of love making you feel secure.
a couple minutes later and suguru noticed how you started to doze off. he chuckled to himself before pulling away from your hug and standing up, only to have you pout and complain about the loss of warmth.
“i’m just going to clean you up, love.” the soft-spoken man utters to you, laughing quietly at the adorable state you were in at the moment. you were so dependent on him.
“should i prepare us a warm, relaxing bubble bath as well?” he asks, squatting down near the edge of his bed and taking your hands in his, maintaining eye contact as per usual.
“that’d be nice.” you nod and feel your eyelids close slowly, “can’t promise i won’t fall asleep, though.”
suguru lets out a soft exhale through his nose, corner of his lips curling upwards at your little comment. he couldn’t believe he ended up dating such an unbelievably wonderful girl. it’s a blessing in his life of curses.
“i’ll make sure to at least clean you up if you do fall asleep, don’t worry. you’re safe with me.”
you were sure he was an angel sent down from heaven. it was more than clear to you—even if it may not be to many others out there.
“thank you, suguru.” you murmur as your body relaxes into the soft mattress, “i love you.”
“i love you too. more than you could imagine.”
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