#and the way he’s touching her THE WAY HES TOUCHING HER 😭
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beloveds-embrace · 2 days ago
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Sooo much angstttttttttttt 😭
I need the boys to wake up and do whatever it takes to fix it, please, I can't take the angst 😭😭😭
Does this count as fix-it? 🤔 hope you enjoy, anon! Also this turned out far longer than i thought it would lol
First Part
Another shift slowly happens within the duchy, palpable. The whispers of servants echo louder than ever, growing sharp and cutting in the empty halls you once used to frequent. They still avoid you, but now they wonder and whisper of your health. It’s not just them; the men you’d once hoped you’d at least be on an amicable basis with slowly change as well, the longer your absence haunts the halls and galas.
John is the first to act. It’s hesitant at first, awkward even, as though he can’t figure out how to approach the shattered remains of what he’s ignored for so long. He stands outside your door one evening, his shadow stretching under the flickering candlelight, fist raised to knock. But he doesn’t. Not at first. He falters, as if the weight of his guilt roots him to the spot.
When he finally does knock, it’s tentative, barely audible.
“…Are you awake?” His voice carries a softness you’ve never heard before, but it grates against your numbness.
You don’t answer. Your eyes barely flick towards the door, not moving from where you are curled on your side.
He lingers, sighs, and leaves.
You had intended to let yourself waste away, in all honesty. Only your mother doesn’t let you; she bursts into your room one day, sneers at the miserable sight you make, and insults you to the high heavens. Nothing new, even if her digs hurt, even if she says she isn’t surprised by no one loving you when you are like this, but she forces you to eat some nibbles and then into a shower; she doesn’t care. She is simply tired of having you be an embarrassment and hiding away from the public eye.
Thus, you no longer stay in your room. You don’t bother with jewelry, with heavy gowns or complicated hair styles or even clearing the layer of dust off your furniture, you just leave your room. Thankfully,
Unfortunately, that means passing by the maids and servants. It means passing by them. It means interacting with them again, though no longer initiated by you.
Simon is the second, and less direct. He lingers in places you begin to re-frequent; the library, the gardens, the corridors near your room. He doesn’t speak, just watches from the periphery, eyes heavy and intense. Once, when you brush past him without acknowledging his presence, he mutters something under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. But he doesn’t try to stop you and you don ask what he said.
He probably didn’t mean you, anyways. You doubt he wants to speak to you, the obstacle.
Johnny falters the most. Though your interactions with him were few, you’d occasionally hear from the servants about how fun he is in general. His smiles, though they’ve never been aimed at you, look quite fake to you, jokes half-hearted and dying on his lips whenever you pass on rare occasions.
One day, he brings a tray of food to your room himself, hoping to coax you into eating with something he’s cooked just for you. You answer the door, see him holding it, and shake your head without a word. Even if it looks delectable, like the dishes John would get.
“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “I- just try a bit, hen.”
But you close the door before he can say more. He will try again and often, sometimes just leaving the tray, but you never touch it. You’ve lost weight, you know, and the only reason you are getting some nutrients at this point is because you occasionally sneak into the kitchens late at night for tiny snacks to tide you over. If Johnny knows it’s you, he’s never said anything.
Kyle is quieter, yet more present. The guilt eats away at him the most; he knows that his lack of care and respect had a part in the way the rest of the maids and staff treated you. He spends his evenings pacing the hall outside your room, his head bowed, mumbling apologies that you’ll never hear, wondering which one is best.
Once, he catches you in the garden alone, his mouth opening as if to speak, but you pass him without so much as a glance; you already know he won’t care for you have to say or ask for, he’ll just say he is busy, so you just don’t bother.
He stays frozen in place, his hand half-raised, the words stuck in his throat.
The servants, per Kyle and John’s orders, begin to change. Their guilt is slower to manifest, but it’s there and it’s evident in the way they rush to fulfill your needs despite your reluctance. They clean your room with quiet efficiency, no longer treating you like a burden, even though you hadn’t asked it of them. They leave fresh flowers on your desk and vanity, extra blankets on your bed, and freshly pressed gowns in your wardrobe.
You ignore all of it. It’s a waste of everyone’s time snd effort. You aren’t worth it.
Yet despite their heavy guilt, they return to and continue serving you.
But nothing changes the heaviness in your chest, the emptiness that refuses to leave.
One day, closer to the date of the annual winter gala hosted by the emperial family, you step into the dining room unannounced, your presence startling them all. It’s the first time you’ve joined them in weeks. You move slowly, your posture rigid and tired, your expression unreadable.
“Duchess,” John starts, his voice uncertain, rising from his seat.
“…John,” You sit without meeting his eyes, your movements slow and deliberate. The table is silent, the tension suffocating as John, Simon, and Kyle exchange uncertain glances.
John clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, wife.”
You don’t respond.
The meal is awkward, stilted, but it’s necessary for you; you need to get reused to John for your eventual reappearance in high society. Johnny offers you dishes with a hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes, and Kyle pours your wine with an unsteady grip. John and Simon try to start a conversation, but their words falter and fade when you don’t reply.
Still, they try. Over the following weeks, their efforts grow.
John begins carving out time to spend with you, awkwardly hovering near your door, waiting for even a crumb of acknowledgment. He starts leaving small notes for you- apologies and quiet promises to be better. They pile up on your desk, untouched but not thrown away. You want to believe, but you feel jaded and tired.
Simon offers you quiet companionship, instead. Standing at your side in the garden or library, saying nothing but ensuring you’re not alone. He speaks softly when he does talk, a one-sided conversation with only the occasional hum or noise from you, but he’s undeterred.
Johnny keeps cooking for you, leaving trays of food outside your door with little notes attached: Eat a bit, bonnie. Just for me. You don’t eat much, still have very little appetite, but you do start taking bites here and there, and it’s enough to keep him trying.
Kyle offers small acts of service- holding doors open for you, keeping anything you might need available at hanf, ensuring your rooms are kept warm and comfortable. His words are rare, but his actions speak of endless guilt and the quiet hope that he can earn even a sliver of forgiveness.
The maids and butlers follow suit, their movements quieter, their service more thoughtful. They stop muttering, their eyes full of remorse whenever they see you. They bow in respect, and no longer treat you as if you aren’t a part of the duchy.
But you keep them all at arm’s length. Their guilt is evident, their efforts genuine, but the wounds they’ve left on your heart are deep. Forgiveness, if it ever comes, will not be easily earned. For now, you let them try, watching their clumsy attempts with a mixture of numbness and quiet satisfaction (that you do feel guilty over, but truly can’t help).
Several weeks before the gala, John comes to your office. He sits down, and waits until you are finished with your paperwork before he speaks. You are in a beautiful dress- Simon’s gift- and your hair is in a delicate style, done by your maids. You look pretty. You feel nice, even if the numbness remains. These days, it’s less.
“Duchess, I was thinking,” he began, voice soft and patient. “it might do you some good to get away for a while. A change of scenery.”
You turned to look at him, the suggestion pulling you from your numb reverie. His blue eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no coldness, no distance. “Somewhere quiet,” he continued, “where you can rest… away from all of this.”
The idea of leaving the suffocating walls of the manor, and the heavy tension of the duchy was tempting. And yet, you hesitated, unsure if you could trust the gesture or if it was just another attempt to smooth over appearances.
“I’ll take care of everything,” he added quickly, as if sensing your doubt. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. You can choose who you’d like to go with, or even if you want to go alone. It’s entirely up to you, Duchess.”
Johnny and Kyle appeared in the doorway then, Kyle holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea, Johnny with a small, hopeful smile and a plate of your favorite biscuits. Even Simon lingered near the threshold, his gaze steady but tinged with something softer than usual.
They were all waiting for your answer, their expressions almost pleading. You could feel the weight of their guilt and the sincerity of their offer. It wasn’t much- not enough to erase everything that had passed- but it was something. A step forward.
“…I’ll think about it.” you said at last, your voice quiet but firm. And for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of relief in their eyes.
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bookwormbynight · 13 hours ago
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Fucking phenomenal idea please write it
I think a really good way to combat the whole "reality-breaking parents are alive" thing would be just having them both believe with their whole hearts that their current truest desire wouldn't be possible if those things hadn't happened. Aka Clark knows he never would have met Bruce (and Ma and Pa, and his job, and Lois, etc) if his parents hadn't chucked him off to Earth bc Krypton was dying, and Bruce would have never become Batman and met all his loved ones and done everything he's proud of if he hadn't seen his parents die right in front of him. (That is kind of touched on in the BTAS episode where the mad hatter sticks Bruce in a dreamscape where his parents are alive - he gets excited about seeing his parents and then he asks Alfred where Dick is and Alfred is like "who?" and it sends Bruce on a spiral of 'what the fuck what the fuucckkk' if I remember correctly.)
Clark didn't actually see his bio parents die though, so honestly it could be perfectly plausible that they just kind of show up like "hey we didn't actually die and we were trying to find you! :D". Bruce can't really get his parents back in a non-drastic way though. Tough break considering that's literally his main Trauma™ 😭
Ah fuck I don't think Jason could have lived either because Tim :( damn Bruce always gets the shortest fucking straws lmao
OH SHIT WHEN BRUCE WAKES UP ANY HEALING DONE WITH JASON IN THE DREAM WOULDNT HAVE BEEN REAL EITHER WOULD IT JESUS C H R I S T
(I mean also Clark could wake up and not-breakup aside his parents are dead again and he's gotta deal with that 😭)
I have so many fucking thoughts about this help help help
All of the little habits they would have formed with each other - they know each other's favorites, they have routines they automatically step into that they really Shouldn't Have, Bruce has never met Martha in his life but he knows her secret pie recipe because he had to recite it to Alfred, Bruce's kids don't treat Clark like another parent but Clark can't help but think of them as His Kids, I--
How long would it take them to realize. (Literal eons, they're both idiots.) How long would it take other people to realize.
Fic idea: A world where Clark and Bruce both get put under Black Mercy’s spell and see their alternate “ideal” dream realities. These realities are identical, though they don’t realize that — a world where they finally give into the pining and realize the other cares about them just as much.
They get married, raise kids, and build the League. Years pass in domestic bliss.
Cut to them waking up. Both are devastated that their marriage/lives weren’t real and resign themselves to a miserable world with a partner who doesn’t remember them.
They both think the other saw something else — Clark mumbles something about Lois and Bruce lies that he saw his parents alive again (they were in his dream, but that wasn’t the focus? hmm)
But. As they try moving on from the years-in-a-second bliss they shared, odd moments keep cropping up.
Bruce says something Clark only ever heard in the dream world. They know things about each other they shouldn’t. Clark slips up and reaches for Bruce’s body in a way that’s too achingly familiar. They’re both choked with denial and grief.
Cue the most aggravating dual pining ever.
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nickssidewitch · 1 day ago
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✨❤️ How the Sturniolo Triplets Flirt With a Crush 😻✨ (a Tarot Reading)
Chris 🧡
Very invested, will make sure to keep up with his crush almost every single day 😭
But he also overthinks A LOT during this stage, so he’ll ease back if he thinks he’s doing too much.
He’ll post little things on his socials so the person he’s flirting with can see them. It’ll be little subliminal messages and things of that nature.
But he’ll also overthink that as well, and will probably even make little clarifications to try not to make it seem like it’s directed at someone (even though it most definitely was).
My Gosh, this man worries so much when he flirts because he hopes the girl can pick up on it and if he’s not being super cringy or he’s not making her turned off.
If he can see that the girl is enjoying his flirting, he won’t worry as much, but she has to be super direct about it, otherwise he will literally die of overthinking 😭😭
He flirts the most via social media posts, but he also texts and does FaceTime calls a lot with the person he’s into. He’ll wanna text/call them late at night just so they can both catch up on each other’s days and just vent.
He will literally stay up for hours, laying on his stomach, feet dangling in the air like a giddy schoolgirl, staring down at his phone just to see if his girl will ever call him or text him. I’m exaggerating… but also I’m not.
He’s a great listener, so he doesn’t mind a rant or a trauma dump or two 😭
He will buy his girl things that remind him of her. Little trinkets like charms and stuffed animals. He’ll buy clothes and jewelry if he sees something he knows the girl will like.
He will pay for everything.
He definitely puts on a certain voice that he doesn’t even realize. (I can hear it in my head and it’s sexy as fuck. A bit raspy and low, a bit of a whisper). He even has a look on his face and will stare at you with that look 😭 He has no clue he does it though.
Lots of music. Lotsss.
If he feels that the flirting is not working though, he will be devastated.
Nick 💜
He actually prefers being flirted with. He likes being the center of someone’s affection. *debby ryan meme*
He will do obvious things to flirt with someone. And if the guy don’t pick up on it, that’s on him ✌🏾
He’s a gift giver and acts of service kind of guy when flirting. If the man doesn’t appreciate what he’s doing by actually acknowledging it, then he’ll be devastated and won’t give you the time of day anymore.
I think he knows what he wants, who he wants, when he wants it, and sometimes why. 😭
That can be a bit intimidating for some guys because they have this expectation of him being someone who will change themselves just to get their attention. But in reality, Nick is very confident in who he is and would never change himself for a man’s attention (unless it’s literally just him working out or drinking more water, etc.)
He’s asking his brothers about what guys do in certain situations (because usually it’s a bi or more masc guy he’s into). He’ll literally go to Chris or Matt with his phone, show a text and be like “oh my gosh what does this mean??”
He’ll definitely be touchy-feely with you, and that’s a big deal because he hates touching people and people touching him. So if he’s got his arm around you, then you’re the one for him!
Matt 💙
Super invested like his brothers.
People keep saying he’ll be dry which is very untrue. That man will always find a way to keep the person he’s flirting with entertained.
He wants them to laugh and actually find him funny, otherwise it won’t work and he knows it.
Humor is a way for him to figure out whether you’re actually listening to him and understand him and the way he thinks. So if you can’t pick up on his humor or don’t laugh at certain jokes he makes, you’re out.
He likes flowers and chocolates, but doesn’t mind jewelry and expensive things to bring his girl as well. And if she’s like “Oh, Matt, you shouldn’t have”, he’ll be like “Um, yes, I definitely should have, and I did!”
He’ll send risky texts or say risky things just to see the girl’s reaction to them. Nothing too crazy or frisky. Just something that can spark a reaction that can be a telltale sign of whether she’s into it or not.
These are the basics of it! Lmk if you guys liked this post!! 🥰
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quartz-oc · 3 days ago
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》 Cynthia ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩
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"Man, that girl is creepy!"
"Yeah and she looks and moves weird too.. Almost like some puppet."
"She's a little too pretty to be a puppet. More like.. Some doll.."
"Do you think she has ball joints like a doll?"
"No idea.."
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
Name: Cynthia (Real name: ████████)
Age: 16
Birthday: February 29
Class: 1-A
Club: Sewing and Stitching Club
Height: 174 cm (5'8)
Hobby: Sewing
Homeland: ████
Likes: Pretty things
Dislikes: Things that ruin pretty things
╭┈ • ┈ ୨୧ ┈ • ┈╮
Introduction
Cynthia is an average girl. She loves frills and clothes like an average girl. She loves to dress up and do make up like an average girl. She loves to make friends and hang out like an average girl.
Except she's not.
She doesn't act like an average girl. What is that stiff movement? She doesn't even talk like an average girl. Where is her voice?! I haven't even heard her talk at all! Does she even have a voice? She stares too much. Where is the light in her eyes? She's... well.. a little creepy.
After being sent to NRC from a different world, she's been the talk of the whole school about if she's even a real person.
Did the Headmaster let in a possessed doll? Does she have a condition? Her moves are so robotic. Is she a robot?
Well, the thing is... We don't know! She doesn't say anything! She doesn't even care! Wow!
Personality
Despite her appearance, she tries her best to be kind and generous to the people she wants to be friends with. She's always giving gifts to her hands with things she finds pretty or hand-sewn clothing. Don't ask how she knows their sizes.
She also does not speak so she uses a lot of gestures and hand movements. It is unknown that she has a voice or not.
She doesn't really mind that people spread rumors about her. She kind of uses it to her advantage, making everyone run away if she doesn't like them.
She's very particular about touch. Skin to skin contact absolutely disgusts her and even initiating the touch makes her skin crawl. She only allows touch if she initiates first when she has gloves on.
She treats a lot of her friends or people she likes like delicate glass dolls; like they can break anytime under the slightest of pressure. And I don't mean figuratively. It's literally. Her hugs and small tugs on the sleeve are very gentle and light.
Cynthia also dislikes showing skin so she dresses modestly but fashionably. Because of this, people believe she's hiding her "doll joints" under pretty clothes.
She really adores cute and pretty things. Frilly dresses, cute cat charms, pretty hairstyles, people she likes, small animals, and etc. If anything of those are ruined, she gets scary.
People who ruin pretty things are ugly and should just d̷i̷e̷. That's what she believes. It's honestly such a harsh statement but that's how she thinks. Although, don't worry, she's not that sensitive. Her being that mad only happens to a few people and she understands certain situations.
When she's really mad, she can act very impulsive and her actions get a little creepy at times. Like if you bullied someone she liked, she would follow you home. Oh? You have a stray cat that you take care of when you're on your way to school but you're an actual shitty person? That cat isn't there anymore.
(Don't worry. She gave it to someone who can take care of it. She's not that evil 😭😭 Her goal is to only scare you.)
She doesn't really think of consequences when she's feeling something intense which can lead her into horrible situations.
Small Trivia
• Cynthia hates P.E. because she has to get all sweaty and touch people
• Her favorite color is pink despite herself wearing mainly blue
• Many of the first years had to get used to her staring problem because sometimes she's not seen blinking
• Crowley knows she's from a different world but she won't say which because she literally can't
• She sews Grim so many outfits and he thinks he looks cool in them
• She spoils Grim a lot because he reminds her of something familiar but it's a far memory
• Crewel is impressed by Cynthia's sewing and wishes to teach her more but she always ends up wanting to do her own thing
╰┈ • ┈ ୨୧ ┈ • ┈╯
"I don't even have a voice box! I had to borrow this one.."
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biggest-vi-defender · 22 hours ago
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okay but one thing i’ve been thinking abt since i’ve watched s2 ep. 5 is how vi initially didn’t trust jinx at all, which makes complete sense and is very fair.
like, when they arrive at the tunnels in order to see vander, vi stays behind both jinx and isha bc of her lack of trust in them, and it’s the same when they enter them. vi refuses to go first, and jinx accepts, allowing her and isha to go first.
but then, when jinx admits that she wants to basically have a do-over together in order to save vander, and says “besides… he’s YOUR father, too.” that leads to vi developing a sense of trust in jinx, even if it’s small— it’s still a start.
you can see it in the way she’s touched by jinx’s words, even if she’s avoiding showing it, and vi now walks ahead of her, allowing jinx to walk behind her & establishing some trust, like i said. she’s also stepping back into that protector role, the one she felt she lost.
when they break into vander’s old room, vi is the one who goes first, ahead of jinx and isha, in a very protective manner. and, when vander (warwick) shows up, vi even tries to push jinx away while she backs up, in a “come on, WE have to go” way. she’s still trying to protect her. :(
don’t even get me started on the way vi says, “he’s going to kill you”, and then throws herself in front of jinx in order to protect her, and by extent, isha, just like she always has.
god, i love them. 😭 VI LOVES HER SISTER SO MUCH.
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kathlare · 3 days ago
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sunsets & sparks
Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman
Summary: In the vibrant setting of Ibiza, Amelie and Lando escape the routine for a week of sunshine, laughter, and nightlife. Amidst a sea of music and lights, their chemistry remains undeniable, as they balance carefree revelry with the deep connection they share. The chapter captures their playful moments, heartfelt exchanges, and Lando’s unwavering care for Amelie, especially as the evening takes a tipsy turn.
Wordcount: 2.1 k
Warnings: fluff, smau, kinda suggestive content
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August 4th, 2024 - Ibiza, Spain
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liked by paddockprincess, callumdayman, and others
f1gossipdaily: Lando Norris and Amelie Dayman were spotted living it up in Ibiza with friends, looking extra close and VERY touchy-feely! 😏👀 Some partygoers even said Amelie looked a little tipsy, but honestly, who can blame her with Lando looking like that? 😜👑
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f1stan69: Lando playing chauffeur tonight, huh? 😂 → drsdiva: @f1stan69 Bro, he’s got no choice when queenie’s tipsy 💅
paddockprincess: Amelie drunk in Ibiza? ICONIC behavior. 🍹✨
amelie4pres: drunk AND touchy? Oh, the ‘shipper agenda is THRIVING today. 👏🔥
drunkgpqueen: Someone get Lando a medal for being the ultimate drunk girlfriend wrangler. 🏅 → brakebias69: @drunkgpqueen Nah, he loves it. Boy’s whipped. 😏
f1lover44: Not Amelie out there living my dream with my man 😩💔
sunshine_lando: Can’t lie, I’d be touchy too if I had that. 🤷‍♀️ → mclovinit: @sunshine_lando SAME, girl. No shame in the game.
gridgirlzz: Lando out here looking like he won more than just trophies this year. 😏🏆 → f1fangirl87: @gridgirlzz Honestly, Amelie IS the trophy. Period. 👏
ameliebae: Touchy? Drunk? ICON. She’s just living her best WAG life. 🍹💃 → landofan12: @ameliebae Honestly, let her slay.
paddocktalks: Lando’s PR team sweating while Amelie’s out here unbothered. 🤣💅
f1spicytea: Lando def on babysitting duty but also LOVING it 🥴💕 → ibizagossip24: @f1spicytea Babysitting or just marking his territory? 👀
turnonequeen: Ibiza Lando hits different…
f1gossipqueen: Lando’s got his hands FULL. 😏 → f1fanatic69: @f1gossipqueen Literally. Boy is gripping for his life! 😂
landogirlies: Is it bad that I’m jealous of BOTH of them? 😭 → wagwannabe69: @landogirlies Nope. Same boat, babe. 🛶
--------------
The moment their plane touched down in Ibiza, the excitement was palpable. After a cozy weekend back in Monaco, where they’d curled up in bed, binge-watching old movies and sipping wine, Amelie and Lando were ready for a different kind of atmosphere. The Ibiza sun was already scorching as they stepped off the plane, but there was a sense of exhilaration in the air.
The group piled into a series of cars and headed straight to their Airbnb—a massive villa with panoramic views of the sparkling Mediterranean. It had everything they needed: an infinity pool, an outdoor terrace, and more space than they could ever in this two days. The villa was made for moments like these.
Lando and Amelie, as always, gravitated toward each other. Their flirtations had become second nature, and this trip wasn’t going to be any different. As everyone got settled in and the sun started to set, the group got ready to head out for the night. The clubbing scene in Ibiza was legendary, and tonight, they planned to hit one of the most exclusive spots.
Amelie stood in front of the mirror in their room, running her fingers through her hair. Lando leaned against the doorframe, eyes wandering over her in that familiar way that made her heart skip a beat.
—You look stunning, babe,— he said, his voice low, sending a thrill through her.
—Of course I do,— she replied with a wink. —Now, if you could just stop staring at me, I might actually be able to finish getting ready.—
Lando smirked, pushing off from the door. —Never gonna happen, love. You’re too damn hot for me to look away.—
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. —Alright, alright, let’s go before you turn me into a blushing mess.—
Their friends were already in the main living area, ready to head out. The group made their way to one of Ibiza’s iconic nightclubs, where the bass pounded in the air and the lights flashed in sync with the rhythm. As they entered, the energy was infectious, and Amelie and Lando wasted no time hitting the dance floor.
Their chemistry was undeniable, as always. With every song that played, they got closer, the flirtation growing heavier, their touches more intimate. Lando’s hands found their way to her waist, his fingers lightly grazing the skin of her lower back. Amelie responded in kind, her hands trailing over his shoulders, drawing him closer as they swayed to the beat.
Max, Pietra, and the rest of their friends exchanged knowing glances, the teasing familiar and comfortable now. —Is it possible to get through one night without these two getting all touchy-feely?— Max joked, grinning.
—Not a chance,— Keegan added, laughing as he took a swig of his drink.
As the night wore on, the drinks flowed freely, and the group’s energy only intensified. Amelie, always a little more carefree when she had a few drinks in her, was no exception. She and Lando danced and laughed, their bodies moving together in sync, completely lost in the music and each other. Her giggles filled the air as Lando leaned in close, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh even harder.
Amelie’s laughter was infectious, her tipsy energy making her even more playful. Lando couldn’t help but grin at her antics, her eyes sparkling with mischief. He loved when she was like this—free-spirited, carefree, and radiating happiness. It made her even more irresistible.
—God, you’re so cute when you’re drunk,— he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.
—Shut up,— she teased back, her words slightly slurred. —I’m just… having fun. I deserve this, right?—
He chuckled, pulling her even closer. —Of course you do. You deserve the world, Ames.—
They continued to dance, the crowd moving around them, but it felt like it was just the two of them. The bass thumped in the background, but Lando’s focus was entirely on her—her laughter, her touch, the way she fit perfectly against him. But as the night wore on, Amelie’s steps started to get wobbly. She wasn’t as steady on her feet anymore, and Lando noticed it immediately.
—Whoa, hey, hey— he said, his hands finding her arms to steady her. —You okay?—
Amelie blinked up at him, her expression a mixture of confusion and giggles. —I’m fine… just a little dizzy. Maybe a lot dizzy, actually. But I’m still standing!—
Lando smirked, helping her stand upright as he wrapped an arm around her waist. —I think it’s time we get you back to the villa before you end up face-first on the dance floor.—
—Fine, fine, I’m ready to go anyway. I want to see my boyfriend in private, not surrounded by all these people,— she slurred, giving him a playful shove.
Lando laughed, knowing she wasn’t exactly making sense but loving her more for it. —Alright, love, let’s get you out of here.—
The group had already noticed that things were getting a little too wild for Amelie. Max and Pietra exchanged amused glances, while Alex and Rozzi seemed to share an unspoken agreement to stay back and let the couple do their thing.
As they walked out of the club, Lando guided Amelie through the crowd, his arm securely around her. The cool night air hit her face, and she sighed, the sound almost content.
Lando helped Amelie into the car, her tipsy giggles making the drive back to the villa feel like an adventure of its own. Her hand found his, and she gave it a lazy squeeze, her head lolling to the side as she rested it on the window.
—God, I’m so drunk,— she admitted with a small laugh, her voice soft. —This is what happens when you get me to dance. I forget how to walk.—
Lando chuckled, gently running his thumb over her knuckles. —You’re adorable when you’re like this. You really have no filter, huh?—
Amelie gave a goofy grin. —Nope, no filter. Who needs one when I’ve got the world’s best boyfriend to make everything better?— She leaned in closer, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. —I love you so much, Lando.—
His heart skipped, a warmth spreading through him at the sincerity in her voice. —I love you too, Ames. You know that. No one makes me smile like you do.—
When they finally made it back to the villa, Lando helped Amelie out of the car, his arm around her waist as she leaned on him a little more than usual. Her steps were unsteady, and though she was laughing, there was a certain softness to the way she moved.
As they entered the villa, the cool air from the infinity pool brushed against their skin, the faint sound of waves lapping at the shore in the distance. The house was quiet, everyone else were still at the club, leaving Lando and Amelie with a rare moment of calm.
Inside the villa, Amelie stumbled a little as Lando guided her through the door, her tipsy giggles echoing through the hallway. The space was dimly lit, the soft glow of the lights adding to the calm atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the wild energy of the night.
—You good?— he asked, his voice laced with a hint of concern, though he couldn’t hide the affection in his tone.
—Yeah, I’m good,— she mumbled, her eyes glassy but full of love. She leaned in a little too close, pressing her lips to his neck in a soft, lingering kiss. —You’re so handsome, you know that?—
Lando chuckled, shifting a little under the warmth of her touch. —I think you’ve had enough of that drink, love. Maybe time to call it a night?—
Amelie swayed slightly, her hand finding his chest, as if steadying herself. She looked at him with a playful smile, a mischievous gleam in her eyes despite the alcohol.
—What if I don’t want to call it a night?— she teased, her fingers tracing the neckline of his shirt, sending a shiver down his spine.
Lando gently took her hands, guiding them away from his chest. —Ames, you’re drunk. I’m not doing anything until you’re sober. Come on, let’s get you settled in. You need water, not more flirting. You’re making it hard for me to resist you right now.—
Her smile faltered slightly, her lips pouting as she let out a small, playful whine. —But I want you, Lando. I really do. Don’t you want me?—
His heart thudded in his chest at the sincerity behind her words, but he knew she wasn’t in her right mind. Gently, he cupped her face, tilting her head up to look at him.
—Babe, I want you all the time, but I want you to be sober and clear-headed when that happens. Not like this.—
Amelie let out a soft, frustrated sigh, her fingers trailing down his arm, almost like she couldn’t help herself. —You’re so good to me. So damn good to me, Lando.— She paused, her face softening, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again. —I just love you so much.—
Lando’s heart melted at her words. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. —I love you more than you’ll ever know, Ames. And I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me, always.—
Amelie leaned into him, her head resting against his chest as she let out a contented sigh. Despite the drunken haze, there was a calmness about her that made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
They stood there for a moment, the quiet of the villa wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Lando brushed a strand of hair from her face, smiling down at her as she slowly started to calm down, her breath evening out.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead in a tender kiss. —You're alright, Ames. I’ve got you, love. Just breathe, okay?—
She nodded slightly, the tipsy haze still lingering in her eyes, but there was something deeper there, something more grounded. She shifted in his arms, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.
Amelie’s heart fluttered at his words. She pressed a kiss to his chest before resting her head back on him. —God, I’m so lucky to have you.—
Lando gently lifted her chin so she was looking at him again. He smiled warmly, his eyes full of affection. —And I’m the lucky one, Ames. Don’t ever forget that.—
She smiled back, her eyes starting to close as the alcohol finally started to take its toll. As much as she wanted to stay awake, the warmth of his embrace was just too comforting.
—Promise me we’ll never stop doing this... just being us...— she whispered, already drifting off.
Lando’s heart swelled at her words. He pressed another soft kiss to her forehead. —I promise, love. We’re in this forever.—
As Amelie fell asleep in his arms, her breathing soft and steady, Lando sat on the edge of the couch, her head resting against him. He watched her for a moment, his mind full of love and appreciation. No matter how chaotic the world around them could get, moments like this—quiet, intimate, and full of love—were everything he ever wanted. And with her, he had it all.
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liked by thisisrozzi, alexandrasaintmleux, and others
ameliedayman: comment if u own a mega yacht
View all 2,584 comments
landonorris: FIRST
landonorris: MEEE, I own a mega yacht... → ameliedayman: @landonorris Oh baby, I know you have one 😘
landonorris: Only thing bigger than my yacht is how much I’m obsessed with you 😏🔥
fan_88: Are you two ever not together? 😅
pietrapilao: Damn, those vacation vibes are NEXT LEVEL 😩 → ameliedayman: @pietrapilao Only the best for us, babe!
thisisrozzi: Stop making the rest of us look bad. How’s this even possible? 😩 → ameliedayman: @thisisrozzi GIRL LOOK AT YOU!!!
f1_wag69: Hotter than the sun. Literally. 😎🔥
fan_707: Okay, this is cute... but can we talk about how hot she looks? 🔥💯
alexandrasaintmleux: That beach glow is everything 😍 → ameliedayman: @alexandrasaintmleux love and miss you my girl!!
f1_wags_4ever: I see a lot of tension in these photos... 👀
f1fansupporter: I guess Lando is just a beach boy now. 😏
minniemills: @landonorris bro, can you fight? → landonorris: @minniemills YES I CAN
55 notes · View notes
theogbadbitch · 3 days ago
Text
Long reblog😭
Opening up this app to see an update of R.E.L.L.S felt like this and I’m not even joking:
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“and she’d hope to jump right into being jumped on. “ nami so #real🙂‍↕️
“Currently, she was dashing around; sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, moping, and the apartment smelled like an apple orchid. “ why I’m nervous like he coming over my damn house chile
“Her thoughts drifted to Terry and their situation. Someone as perfect as Terry had to have some flaw about him and though she was enjoying herself, she had her guard up. “ lol I hope this is not foreshadowing anything…
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“She’d have to talk to him about it. “ this conversation will either go really well or be hell no in between (we might have to jump Terry if he hurt my girl feelings)
“I’ve been thinking about you stuffed full of my dick.” 
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“Then there was Terry. He told her it wasn’t a person she wanted to meet during any of their time together. “ what the hell is he like Batman I’m confused. Why is this is so ominous 😭😭😭😭😭
“Sir was a cake walk compared to Terry, but Nami was never going to find that out. Her behavior would have to be egregious. “ well now I’m curious and slightly intrigued. Ain’t no way he can get any meaner than Sir, Terry must be a damn villain
“She convinced him to watch a movie with her. “ Nami got his mean ass doing relationship type stuff I know thats right🙂‍↕️
“I haven’t heard from you since we went out. Busy?” Mona’s tone was both cautious and blunt. “ yes actually she is busy weirdo
“Did he get tired of you yet?” Her Dom jokes. He leers at Nami, seeing exactly why Terry was hooked on her. “ both of them weird as hell I’m irritated
“You know no one is going to want you in the community now? I mean, I told you what Terry did to submissives.” Mona says, ‘so, why did he leave? What stupid mistake did you make?” Mind you he in the bathroom as they speak
“Let me tell you something bitch,’ he growls, “Don’t you ever get another man to try to tell me what to do. I ain’t some little bitch to fuck with.” I JUST BUSTED OUT LAUGHING! HELLO???????
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Coming to MY HOME to threaten me , I would’ve had something hot for both their asses
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“She does what I tell her and if you don’t get your dog to mind his business handling an overstepping submissive will be my business.” Lord Terry about to whoop his ass ain’t it
“You brought another man to the house of your friend, who is a woman. To be yelled at and threatened.” Like Nami should really beat Mona’s ass because??????????
“ I love me a brat,’ he says, looking at Nami with a smirk”
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Terry and Nami so better than me , soon as I heard that “bitch” word I would’ve crashed out
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“with my girl” HIS girl🙂‍↕️
“His devotion to eating pussy was unmatched and she never had a guy who enjoyed it for his personal pleasure and not just hers.” a #REAL eater we love to see it!
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“Let’s go to bed,’ he says, ‘I’m ready to fuck you.” We all cheered!!!
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“She knew he was going to fuck her, but, she wasn’t prepared for just how good he was going to fuck her. “ He about to tear my girl UP
“Sir, I don't,’ she whined, her body so intensified with emotions of pain and pleasure she could barely form words.”
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“Talk to me so I know you’re okay. Tell Daddy what’s wrong,’ he cooed, bending over to kiss her drooling lips. “ y’all let’s start picking out rings and baby names , I’ll start , I really like Amara for a girl
“You’re so sweet for letting Daddy fuck you like this,’ he praised, ‘letting him use you while you can barely think straight. Shit feel good, hm?” Wow.
“nine and a half inches. “ I KNEW IT.
“Ain’t no other nigga gon’ fuck you like this.”  This is some I’m in your bushes stalking you type of dick, like this is insane
“Tell me what you need,’ he said, slowing his thrusts to enjoy the way she sighed in content.” AN EXORCISM
“Touch was his kink. The closeness drove him crazy. Whether it was on his shoulder or back, his dick was bricked, painfully so. “ This doesn’t explain why at this point you still won’t let her touch you but we’ll circle back to this sir. Something tells me Nami isn’t going to stop asking.
“It’s okay baby,’ he cooed. “ no it isn’t you are some type of succubus omg she gotta sage her apartment after this
“Just feel it,’ he slowed his strokes and grinned as she sobbed. “ smh he sick need him so bad
“Let me touch you, Sir,’ she begged”
“How about you go get in the bath? Let me clean you up and order lunch.”  I shouldn’t have laughed at this😭😭😭
“Finish eating so we can play again.” Hey so this is actually insane! He would’ve had to get the hell out my house fr😭
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.summary.: what's a little conversation among friends? nami and terry have some Play Time.
Kinks (in order they appear): oral m receiving, facefucking, terry is a chatty dom, fingering, oral f receiving,  anal play (plug insertion), slight degradation, spanking, cum play, nami experiences sub space (cnc) Wordcount: 8k+ graphics: @firefly-graphics / @cafekitsune note: this is broken into two parts @zillasvilla watched me all weekend work on this and was like "Break it apart"
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Terry had given Nami a week to reset. He would send her a text or call every now and then, but she hadn’t seen him in a week. She counted down the days until Friday and now that it was here she was anticipating so much. He had promised so much and all she had to do was behave. He was going to be spending the weekend at her place which mean it was a weekend of Play Time. A reward for getting through the long week of school, work, and her personal life. 
Nami had spent the whole weekend prepping her apartment for Terry. She switched her sheets to black so they looked like the ones in his guest room that she used. There were some light yellow accents. Water was stocked in the fridge along with enough snacks to get them through whatever he had planned. She didn’t want to have to leave the bedroom for anything. 
Currently, she was dashing around; sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, moping, and the apartment smelled like an apple orchid. The light fruity scent came from multiple candles. He was supposed to come at eight and they’d have breakfast and she’d hope to jump right into being jumped on. 
Satisfied with the cleaning she did, Nami dashed to her bedroom and turned on her shower. She had everything to do once she was in; shave, exfoliate, cleanse, moisturize! She wanted this weekend to go as smooth as she was trying to make her skin. She had coco butter and a light scented body oil waiting on the counter. 
Her thoughts drifted to Terry and their situation. Someone as perfect as Terry had to have some flaw about him and though she was enjoying herself, she had her guard up. Being here for his pleasure was all good and she was a willing participant, but her need for the closeness of a partner was rearing its ugly head. She wanted more of a connection that wasn’t just his hands on her body. She’d have to talk to him about it. 
Nami finished in the shower and patted herself dry. She lathered her body in lotion and oil, creating a sweet vanilla scent that would linger as the day passed. She removed the rollers from her hair, the blow-out keeping it’s shape and curls. She found it much easier to have her hair down. He could wrap it around his hand better and the feeling of his fist against the back of her head made her cunt quiver. Playtimes were meant to be fun and light, no real lesson or teaching moment. It was about her pleasure. But she wanted him to manhandle her, without it being tied to punishment. She loved the build up. 
Terry hadn’t told her what to wear, but she knew what to not put on. Reaching into her closet, she pulled out a pair of white soffee shorts and a yellow crop top. Just as she was coming out of her room, her doorbell went off. Nami slid over to the door and yanked it open. 
“Hi,’ she greeted while leaning against the door frame. 
Terry looked down at her and her outfit, humming in satisfaction, then pulled her to him as he stepped inside the apartment. He dropped his bag beside the door and kicked off his shoes while holding her still with his hands on her face and his lips on hers. He guided her towards her couch and made her sit. 
“It’s been a long week,’ he whispered, ‘Daddy just needs you to suck his dick first,’ he pushed down the waistband of his sweats and she watched his dick pop up and smack against his stomach. “Hands on your knees and keep them there.” 
He grabbed the back of her head and guided her mouth towards his leaking tip. 
“Relax.” He reminded her. 
Guiding his tip past her lips she relaxed her jaw and stuck out her tongue. Nami’s eyes clenched as he pushed further into her mouth. She breathed rapidly through her nose, managing to keep herself calm enough for him to slide down her throat. Her nose brushed his pelvis as he held her there. Her nails dug into her knees, leaving half crescent shapes.
“Good girl,’ he cooed, ‘I’ve been edging myself all week for you.” 
Terry pulled his hips back and pushed them forward, using her mouth to get off. 
“I’ve been thinking about you stuffed full of my dick.” 
Nami looked up at him as the tip of his dick poked down her throat. Drool slid over her chin and over the front of her top. His stance widened as he moved her head up and down faster. Her spit covered his balls and she wanted to reach out to grab them. 
“I’m going to hold myself off,’ he pulled her mouth off his dick and watched the spit and drool fall out of her mouth in a thick string connecting to his dick. “Suck the tip,’ he ordered. 
She leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the head of his dick, sucking as he asked. Her cheeks hollowed out each time and he hissed, stroking the rest of his length with a tight fist. 
“Head back,’ he grunted roughly, tugging on her curls, ‘mouth open.” 
She stuck her tongue out for good measure and Terry watched her brown eyes look up at him in anticipation. His hand twisted up and down his dick. Above her, Terry jacked off against her lips. She listened to him bite back his moans. She felt emboldened by her position in front of him. Her tongue darted out and lapped at his tip again, smearing his pre-cum like frosting on a cake. 
“That’s not being good,’ he gritted his teeth together and she giggled, repeating the action, much to his satisfaction. “Shit.” 
Yanking her head backward, Terry leered over her as he choked his dick with his hand. His cum flew out in thick ropes of cum, hot and sticky on her mouth and tongue. He tasted a little salty, but it seemed like he had just come from working out. The thought of sucking his dick right after a workout was a kink she didn’t realize she wanted to act out. Terry pushed his dick into her mouth and she sucked him clean, the mess on her face cooling as her head bobbed up and down. He pushed her back into the couch and admired his work of art on her face. 
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Twenty minutes later, Nami was cleaned up and sitting at the kitchen island. Terry cooked breakfast; eggs, sausage, and grits. While eating he sat next to her with one of his hands between her legs. He wasn’t touching her pussy, yet, but his hand was close enough she could feel a little heat. 
“You know it’s Play Time but let me give you a few ground rules. You get to cum as much as you want to but there are still boundaries.” 
He grabbed her thigh. “No touching me or yourself unless you have permission.” 
“You already know how to address me.” he paused. “And you understand when that changes.” 
He told her it would be easy to tell who she was dealing with when they were together. Sir would have told her to drop to her knees at the door. He would have bent her over the arm of the couch and fucked her mouth. Daddy was nicer, sweeter, the man in front of her right now, and that she was excited about it. Then there was Terry. He told her it wasn’t a person she wanted to meet during any of their time together. He made himself sound like a caged animal locked away to keep the public safe. Terry was unforgiving. A disciplinarian to the highest degree. Sir was a cake walk compared to Terry, but Nami was never going to find that out. Her behavior would have to be egregious. 
“Daddy,’ she says, eyes on her plate as she shoves her fork into her eggs. 
“Let me know if it gets to be too much.” 
Terry turned in his chair and pulled her chair closer to him. The hand between her legs moved and she felt two of his fingers snake themselves into her pussy. He wiggled them deep and watched her head loll backwards. Her mouth parted and she struggled to keep still and let him touch her how he wanted to. 
Standing up, Terry moved behind her. He kept his hand between her legs, stroking her pussy with two fingers. His other hand snaked under her shirt, cupping her breast before tugging and pulling on her taut nipple. His lips found her neck, the three feelings overwhelming her body like a flood. 
“I want to make you feel good.” He moved to the other nipple, tugging cowards on it. “Does it feel good when I touch you like this?” 
His fingers stroked up to her clit, painting it in her slick before he plunged them back into her hole. His thumb pressed on her clit, pushing the throbbing bundle of nerves until she shook on the stool. 
“Talk to me Nami,’ he says, ‘tell me to play with your pussy.” 
The hand that was playing with her nipples wrapped around her throat. Leaning back against his chest, Terry held her still with his upper body while his fingers strummed her pussy like a guitar. 
“I like when you touch me like this,’ she panted. Her chest rose and fell in time with her beating heart. “Your fingers feel so good, Daddy.” 
“Do they?” He asked. Terry pulled them out and put them into her mouth.
She sucked slowly on his fingers as he pulled her from the stool. He walked her to the dining table and laid her across it. He pulled up a chair and pushed her legs to her chest as he sat down. Served up for his tasting, Terry did just that.
Terry excused himself to the bathroom. Nami cleaned up from breakfast, dumping the cold food and putting the coffee into the fridge to use later. She slipped on her shorts and wiped down the dining table. She brought out throw blankets and tossed them on the couch. She convinced him to watch a movie with her. As she spread out her favorite blanket there was a hard knock on her door. 
She wasn’t expecting anyone so when she opened the door and saw Mona and her dom standing there she was surprised. 
“What are you doing here,’ Nami asked.  
“I haven’t heard from you since we went out. Busy?” Mona’s tone was both cautious and blunt. She kept looking at her dom, who was standing by the foyer. He didn’t look happy at all. 
“School, you know it’s my last semester.” Nami replied. “Is everything okay?” 
Mona didn’t just stop by. At least not without calling ahead first. 
“Did he get tired of you yet?” Her Dom jokes. He leers at Nami, seeing exactly why Terry was hooked on her. 
“You know no one is going to want you in the community now? I mean, I told you what Terry did to submissives.” Mona says, ‘so, why did he leave? What stupid mistake did you make?” 
Nami shook her head. “No, no, no, he’s still my dominant.” 
The same dominant that was in her bathroom and probably listening to this very conversation. 
“He’s not here, so it doesn’t matter,’ her dom says annoyed. “Let me tell you something bitch,’ he growls, turning his sudden fury on Nami. “Don’t you ever get another man to try to tell me what to do. I ain’t some little bitch to fuck with.” 
Shirtless, Nami saw Terry step out of the room, a scowl on his face. It was very clear he heard everything that was said. 
“Mona, you brought him here to tell me that,’ Nami says as she takes a step backwards. 
“She does what I tell her and if you don’t get your dog to mind his business handling an overstepping submissive will be my business.” 
“A business you’re failing.” Terry said. 
Four sets of eyes turned to him in shock. Mona’s eyes raked over Terry’s bare chest and the way his sweats hung low on his hips. Terry couldn’t remember their names and didn’t care either, but he wasn’t going to let them speak to Nami like that. 
“You brought your dominant to your friend’s place,’ Terry says as he assesses the situation before him. “You brought another man to the house of your friend, who is a woman. To be yelled at and threatened.” 
“We-’
”I just want to get the story straight.” 
He walked over to Mona, the same way her dominant had walked up on Nami. Except, Mona was enjoying the attention. He could see it in her eyes; this is what she wanted. Her tight lip expression might fool the other man in the room, but he knew all he had to do was speak and Mona would drop to her knees. 
“Tell her you’re jealous,’ Terry says. “Tell Nami, you’re jealous of her.” 
“I’m not…no! Nami, I’m not-’
In a sweet voice, Terry folded his arms over his chest. “Tell. Her.” He looked at Nami and motioned her to move towards him. Just within reach, he had her stop. “I like submissives who listen. Your defiance is a turn off. That’s why I’ve never looked your way. I love me a brat,’ he says, looking at Nami with a smirk, ‘but you are a petulant brat. The worst kind.” 
Mona’s mouth dropped open and her eyes darted between the two men in the room. Only one of them had control and she looked over her shoulder at Nami. Terry snapped his fingers in her face. 
“Look at me when you say it,’ he says, ‘and mean it. Or you’ll stand here and say it until I tell you to stop.” 
Her chance with Terry was long gone at this point. She knew that the moment he pulled her from the bar in the club. 
“I’m jealous of Nami.” 
“Why?” Terry asked. “Tell her why you’re jealous.” 
Mona looked at her dominant and Terry laughed. 
“I don’t know why you’re looking at him. He’s a switch at best, he’s not going to do anything for you.” 
Nami’s Play Time was being interrupted and he could see was getting frustrated with the situation. As much as he wanted to draw this out, and he should, he didn’t want to completely ruin Nami’s day. He had a lot planned for her. 
Terry stared at Mona causing her to fidget and eventually look up at him. 
“I’m jealous of Nami because you picked her to be your submissive.” Terry leaned in, his voice low. He only wanted Mona to hear what he was about to tell her.
“I should make you tell her exactly how you really feel about her.” 
Nami could sense that when they were getting dressed for the party. Her line of questioning had made her feel undesirable and to know Terry picked up on it as well didn’t make her feel as crazy as she thought she was. 
“You’re lucky Nami is here.” Terry turned to the other man in the room and approached him. “Handling an overstepping submissive? I know you weren’t talking about Nami.” 
“Nah,” he says, ‘Mona wanted to come see her friend.”
“I don’t want to do this right now.” Nami says. “Leave please.” 
“You heard her,’ Terry says, though his eyes dare the man in front of her to move. 
Mona turned around and gave Nami an apologetic look. “Call him off,’ she says, gesturing towards the stand off between the men. 
Nami’s euphoric state of bliss was being compromised. This disruption was toying with her Play Time and she didn’t want Terry to be too annoyed to play with her. Nami felt hot in the face but it wasn’t from anger. She was getting upset and frustrated. Terry stood there, stoic and squared off, his stance defensive. 
“Nami please,’ Mona says. 
“Why should she do anything for you?” Terry taunted. He says, turning his head to glance at Mona and Nami behind him. 
“The way you called me about her, you don’t get to speak to Mona that way.” 
“Oh, wheres the bass you had with my girl,’ Terry grinned, ‘all that bravado is gone now that I’m in the room huh.” 
“No one is scared of you,’ he replied, brows knitting together as his jaw tensed. 
“I don’t want you to be,’ Terry replied. “I want you to be uncomfortable. I want you to not be weak. Defend your submissive,’ he taunted, ‘you don’t want me to talk to her?” He whispered. “Tell me.” 
The tension in the room was high. Nami took a step towards Terry, hoping to diffuse the situation and get them out. 
“Just go, Mona,’ Nami says. 
Walking towards her bedroom she put space between her and the chaos swirling around her kitchen. She sat on the edge of her bed, legs folded as she dropped her head into her hands. Her friendship with Mona had been great. She never once did she think Mona had ill feelings towards her. Hearing her be jealous, and mean, over her relationship with Terry was hard. She wanted to share all her experiences with Terry with her. Finally diving into BDSM led to the break down of a friendship, if it ever was there. 
“Hey,’ Nami looked up, face wet. 
“Yes, Sir?” She says. 
“Lie back.” 
She did as she was told and they both moved on from what happened in the kitchen. She didn’t want to talk about it anyway and further mess up her morning. Terry moved to stand by the head of her bed. Her cuffs were slung over his shoulder and something silver was resting in his palm.  
“Shorts off, bend your legs and keep them open for me.” 
Nami did as told and also removed her top, Terry laughed at her haste and kissed her forehead. He cuffed her hands before kissing them. 
“Keep them up,’ he says. 
Crawling into the bed, Terry kissed his way up her leg, sucking the soft skin into his mouth as he watched her chest rise and fall. She anticipated things and her body responded to it. She knew his mouth was about to touch her pussy, so she anticipated it. Her body warmed and she started to leak slick from her lower lips. His warm breath heightened that feeling and she almost kicked him in the face when his lips landed on her knee. 
“Relax,’ he says, ‘you will need to relax for what I’m about to do.” 
He took her clit in his mouth, sucking slowly, while his fingers stroked around her wet hole. Terry pushed them in slowly, curling his fingers upwards as his tongue flattened against her clit. She was lost in the sensation of his mouth and fingers that when something cold, wet, and hard pressed against her asshole, she jumped. Terry pulled away from her pussy, licking his lips as he eyed the messed between her legs. 
“Sir?” 
“It’s a plug.” 
“A plug? For what?” 
“I think you know what it’s for. You asked for it.” 
Nami breathed out and Terry’s head went back down between her legs. She focused on the way he devoured her pussy, licked and sucked until she was trembling again. She felt his hands moved, but not the anal plug. Instead, Terry licked his way down from her pussy to her ass then back up. 
His devotion to eating pussy was unmatched and she never had a guy who enjoyed it for his personal pleasure and not just hers. He was doing it because he wanted to and it was for his own desires. There was a pool of her slickness on the bed between her legs, around his mouth, and coating the inside of her thighs. She got so messy.
As Nami began to wiggle and squirm to keep from riding his face, Terry used one hand to spread her left ass cheek. The anal plug rubbed against her puckered hole while his tongue licked back into her weeping sex. Both his tongue and the plug surged froward at the same time. 
“Oh fuck,’ she cursed. 
Terry smacked her outer thigh. “Watch that mouth.” 
He pushed it to the hilt, making sure it was snug. The stretch was different and it made her clit throb. She clenched around it, only pulling it further in before it would relax as she unclenched. She felt full. The bulbous head of the plug stretched her deliciously. 
“Oh that’s pretty.” 
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Netflix was on but Nami wasn’t sure what was playing any more. She straddled Terry’s lap, his hands on her thighs, smoothing around to her ass while another scratched up her naked back. The only thing she wore was the anal plug, firmly nestled in her ass, and her cuffs. The yellow material really looked like bracelets when they weren’t hooked together and to the bed. She held her own arms behind her back as they kissed. Her hips and his doing a motion against each other. She’d rocked side to side and he would jerk his hips up and down. The friction of his dick pressing against her led to more anticipation of what was to come. 
Naked, Nami was exposed to him. Her body on display as she pulled away from his mouth to breathe. 
“Let’s go to bed,’ he says, ‘I’m ready to fuck you.” 
It was noon, the sun w as high in the sky as Terry tossed Nami on the bed. She bounced and moved towards the pillows, her hands in front of her. Terry dropped his sweats. She had seen his dick numerous times but there was something about this time that was different. She watched as he touched himself, his hand stroking upwards towards his tip when he grimaced from the touch. Sensitive, she logged that for later. He always ended their night in her mouth and if she got the chance she’d make sure to play with the sensitive tip. 
He had another bottle in his hands before he squeezed a clear gel into his palm. 
“Fucking your throat is one thing,’ he says, dropping a knee to the bed as he palmed his dick again. “Fucking you is another and I want to make sure I slide right in.”
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This had been the moment Nami was waiting for. She knew he was going to fuck her, but, she wasn’t prepared for just how good he was going to fuck her. 
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“Sir, I don't,’ she whined, her body so intensified with emotions of pain and pleasure she could barely form words. She didn’t know if she wanted Terry to stop fucking her or keep going, but the inbetween felt too good to care. Her legs had long fallen to the bed, open and pliant in his hands. His hips snapped between hers slamming his balls against her ass as his dick finally split her open. As he finally fucked her like the dominant he was, uncaring, crazed, feral. Using her pussy in ways that made her more gushy than a Gusher candy. 
“Mhn,’ he called, “Tell me what you need, baby.” 
“Ah!,’ she keened. 
His hips snapped upwards, then rutted against her, applying pressure to her clit. 
“Talk to me so I know you’re okay. Tell Daddy what’s wrong,’ he cooed, bending over to kiss her drooling lips. He looked into her eyes, watching as she forced them straight but couldn’t help but cross them when he hit that spongy spot deep in her cunt. 
“You’re so sweet for letting Daddy fuck you like this,’ he praised, ‘letting him use you while you can barely think straight. Shit feel good, hm?” He looked down where their bodies were joined. The mess between her legs was hypnotizing. She was so wet and creaming so much. “Giving Daddy such good pussy tonight.” 
“I’m good,’ she repeated, as if she was asking him a question, not believing she was. 
“Yes,’ he hissed, licking a long swipe up her neck before sucking a red spot into the side of it. Nami arched her chest into his, find some strength to wrap her legs around his waist, crying out at the way he began to wine his hips. “You gonna let Daddy play in his pussy, right?”
Her hands were tied above her head this time and she pulled on her restraints as she felt his fingers slid into her mouth for her to suck on.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ she hummed over and over. “Play in my sweet pussy Daddy,’ she mumbled, the words coming out between her moans.
“I know you are,’ he hummed a familiar beat, ‘gimmie that sweet,’ he flexed, his dick jumped, she cried out, ‘that nasty,’ he leaned down, going from two feet to one foot on the bed beside her open hips, ‘that gushy stuff.” 
The sounds she made were wet and sticky; sloshing almost and it just kept spilling out of her this way. The position sent him deeper, stuffing her nice and full with all nine and a half inches. 
Her lower body wiggled, trying to fight the pressure building as he stilled his body. Terry used her mouth like a toy, sucking her tongue into his, biting her lips, drawing a little of pain from the pleasure she was feeling between her legs. The stretch burned, but fuck, he made it feel so good. He hoisted her legs up so they fell over his arms. Fully seated in her pussy, he rubbed against her. 
“You look so good taking my dick,’ he praises.
Nami ached to touch him. It was the one thing she had been working to earn since their first night, but he always bound her hands away from him. Avoided her finger like the plague. He knew her body so intimately her pussy clenched around his dick at the thought. Terry’s hands dropped to her waist in a bruising hold. 
“That’s it, cum on my dick,’ he said, finally finding a rhythm she could rock her hips to. 
Nami squirmed beneath him as he he fucked her into the bed. She was already running like a faucet, but when Terry pushed her legs towards her her head she gushed, a cord snapping as she came, squirting on him as he chased his high. Fuck he was so big. She thought, trying to catch her breath as her body tensed and jerked beneath him. 
The wet sound of their skin slapping as Terry dug her out as he chased his high. His ball clenched tight as he held her throat and hip to keep her still. Him wearing his pussy out was the only thing on his mind, making her so tired she purred for his mouth to make it feel better. Terry could see how fucked out she was, her body coming down from her orgasm. He dropped his weight to her body, pushing them both up the bed and rutting against her as he placed her legs on his shoulders and leaned down. Still deep in that shit, Terry made sure she could feel him, poking that g-spot over and over. All she could do is scream out for him, cry, and beg him to not stop, and that he felt so good. Her sweet voice was slurred, each work leaving her lips like she was drunk off his dick. 
Nami felt like she was in a tunnel. Terry’s voice was muffled to her, the intense feeling her body was experiencing had filled her head with so much pleasure she couldn’t think straight. It hurt to think about anything other than how he was making her body feel. 
“Why you fucking me like this, ma’ he asks, hissing from how tight her pussy gripped him. “Why you sucking me in so deep, baby.” 
Nami cried, too overwhelmed to respond with anything else. Her body, down to her tippy toes, was numb. She was barely holding onto reality. 
“Ain’t no other nigga gon’ fuck you like this.” 
She heard him speaking but it was more to himself, stroking his big ass ego the way his big ass dick was stroking her tight walls. 
Terry looked at her, tears running from her eyes, her body shaking as she took his hard thrusts. He turned his head, kissing her both of her ankles he swiveled his hips side to side and she quivered. 
“You want to nut again don’t you.” He grit his teeth together, the squishy sounds permeating the air the same way the smell of their sex did. “Hold that shit in,’ he snapped, ‘let me play in my pussy a lil’ longer.” 
He could feel her about to cum and knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold it in. Her body had betrayed her twice already and those orgasms damn near made him bust. Terry yanked his dick out and dropped her legs to the bed. Nami whimpered and tried to reach for him, forgetting her hands were tied to the bed post. Splayed out, Terry bent down between her legs, his tongue replacing his dick. He slurped her clit into his mouth, flattened his tongue and dragged it up and down, coating his face in her slick.
“Oh Daddy,’ she drawled out. She planted one foot on the bed and arched towards his mouth. 
His hand slapped against her ass, twice. “Pretty ass pussy,’ he mumbled, fisting his dick to stroke as he lapped at her drenched lips. “Why you so fucking wet hm? I can drown in this shit.” Terry released her clit with a soft popping sound and grabbed her legs again. His thrust back in jerked her upwards on the bed. He bottomed out and watched her grab the rope of her restraints. 
“Tell me what you need,’ he said, slowing his thrusts so enjoy the way she sighed in content. He had abused this pussy for at least an hour, taking what he needed from her. 
“Let me touch you,’ she whined, ‘please.” 
Touch. Fuck. He knew the moment her hands touched him he would lose it. He always did. There was something about his girl, his sub, clinging to him for dear life, raking nails down his back like he knew she wanted to do. 
“Please, please, please…’ she begged, a fresh set of tears springing from her eyes as she cried. His pace quickened. 
She never asked before and he could see the longing in her eyes when they were together or in a scene. Touch was his kink. The closeness drove him crazy. Whether it was on his shoulder or back, his dick was bricked, painfully so. 
He shook the thought away and continued to fuck her into the bed. Her pussy gripped his dick right and he groaned. 
“Daddy just had to give this pussy something to do.” He grunted. He saw Nani’s arms and body slowly begin to relax. “That’s it,’ he coached.
Nami began to cry. The sensation she was feeling was out of body. She felt so high and weightless but at the same time grounded and heavy from his thrusts. She didn’t cry from pain but the pleasure just needed another way out. She unclenched her fists as he rocked his hips into hers. His dick curved slightly to the left and stretched her just as good. Terry’s dick was big. 
“It’s okay baby,’ he cooed. 
Nami whines and whimpered. Her thigh began to shake from her resolve snapping. She felt too exposed. The room light suddenly blinded her as he took off the scarf. Blurry she blinked out her tears as she turned her head to the side and went to bite down on her arm when Terry grabbed her face. 
“Just feel it,’ he slowed his strokes and grinned as she sobbed. His tongue darted out and he licked her tears before sucking her lips into a kiss. 
“Let Daddy take care of you, hm?” He wrapped his hand around her throat and held her to the bed. He looked into her eyes. They were glossy and she had a dazed expression on her face though she was fighting it. 
“But….Daddy,’ she protested, her hips trying to get his to move again. 
“Be a good girl,’ he says as he thrusts once more.
He resumed fucking Nami, filling her inch by inch with his dick. He held her hips and gave her slow but forceful thrusts. Her pussy choked his dick.
“Shit I’m going to fuck this pussy open.” He popped Nami on the thighs and she looked at him with doey brown eyes. “You're sitting on this dick all weekend.” 
“Oh!” She whimpered, her pussy making wet sounds as his words make her gush a little. 
Terry noticed and smirked. “You like when I talk to you like that, hm?” 
He leans over her, his forehead pressing against hers as he watches his dick slide in an out of her cunt. There was a mess between their legs. A sticky, slippery, wet, mess. He sunk himself deep each thrust, caging her body between him and the bed so she didn’t slide across the sheets. Terry rubbed his hands down her thigh and then hooked it behind her knee before pushing it to the bed. 
“Open up,’ he growled, eyes rolling backwards as she clenched around him. “Fuck, open that pussy up.” 
Nami tugged on her restraints until they shook the headboard. Her body was slipping from her control and all she could do was let it happen. He had a tight grip on her leg, holding her still as he pummeled her into the mattress. The sheets were askew and pillows were somewhere on the floor. His sweat dripped onto her body, the cold droplets adding to the sensations her body was experiencing. Her clit throbbed for release, but it went ignored, and pulsed. Her toes were curling and her back was arching up off the bed, seeking out more contact from her dominate. 
“I got you baby,’ he groaned. His own body shuddered. “Let me fuck this pussy like it deserves to be.” 
Nami made the mistake of looking at Terry. He was staring right at her. His eyes had darkened. His brows were knitted together and when his tongue darted out to lick his thick lips, Nami whined. She could feel his hands on her body; slapping her thigh, 
“Soggy ass pussy,’ he spoke, his thumb reached between their bodies and rubbed her neglected clit. “I wish you could see how sloppy this shit looks,’ he laughed. “Fuck, Nami.” 
Terry was stroking something deep inside of her. He reached places no one had prior. He fucked her towards another orgasm, but this one felt uncontrolled. She scrunched her nose, thumbs pressing into the link on her cuffs, and he hips fell back to the bed. New sounds of pleasure fell from her lips. High pitched squeals as he snapped his hips over and over between her legs. Stuffing her with his fat dick to the point she could feel the recoil in her thighs.  Speaking of, her thighs fell to the bed, fully opening herself to Terry and his hands. 
“That’s it baby,’ he praised, ‘give Daddy his pussy.” 
He used his hands to rub her sides, massaging her into relaxing. She stopped tugging on her cuffs and her arms slackened. Nami’s breath shuddered with each thrust between her legs, her pussy was stuffed full and she felt like she was feeling him in her stomach. The depths he reached mad her lift her hips for more. 
“Be Daddy’s little doll,’ he whispered.
“Doll?” Her voice trembled and her bottom lip quivered. “I…..doll?” 
She could barely form words, eyes crossed now that he could finally see them. As tight as her pussy was around his dick, that wasn’t the only thing turning him on. Her lack of speech made his ego puff up just a little. He warned her of his plans to fuck her and now that he was inside of her he didn’t want to leave. He enjoyed the other physical and mental effects of sex just as much as the actual act of sex. 
“Yeah,’ he replied, his voice even as he stroked himself with her cunt. 
Each slide back in Nami could feel the thick tip of his dick slide against her spot. Every. Time. he hit it directly and she saw stars. Her vision became a little spotty from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving her. 
“My little ragdoll.” 
Terry’s hands moved up her chest, tugging down on her nipples after rolling them between his fingers. He admired the bruises on her hips from his hands. The dark spots a reminded for her long after he was done. Respectfully he was going to make sure she had as many orgasms as he body could give. Disrespectfully? He was going to dig her pussy out and dick her down. He just needed her to-
“Daddy,’ she weeped, ‘I feel-’
“Let go for me,’ he coaches, kissing her quickly to ground her for a moment. Aware of her body, Terry wrapped a hand around her throat and applied just enough pressure she could focus on him. “Let it happen okay?” He says. “You’re slipping into sub space.” He noted, more to himself than her. “Let me take you there, Nami.” 
His voice sounded like whispers to her. She hadn’t realized her eyes were closed until she opened them and he was watching her face. His expression was soft and a stark contrast to the roughness of his dick fucking her. She couldn’t hear her moans any more and her body started to float. Her thighs rose on their own, needing a little friction but it was pushed back to the bed. 
A fucking faucet.
Dripping so fucking much.
Wet. Ass. Pussy! 
His stamina was insane and Nami’s body was his outlet. That same body betrayed her. She felt like she was in a dream state. In a trance. She thought she was tugging on her restraints, but Terry had already unhooked it and her arms were laying above her head. She knew to keep them there but with the euphoric feeling course through her body she had no strength to move them anyway. 
She felt like mush in hands. Pliant, Terry grabbed her neck again. 
“Feels good,’ he asked. He knew getting her to talk in this state would be hard, he could see the pleasure in her eyes with how slack her mouth was. 
Nami’s mouth dropped open and a trail of drool followed. She could see Terry but wasn’t really seeing him. She could feel him deep and each thrust drove her to the brink. 
“Good,’ she choked out, ‘so big,’ she cried. 
“I know baby,’ he hissed. 
“Give it up, Nami.” He pushed her into the bed with a hand around her neck. “Submit, to Daddy.” 
She couldn’t reach to hold him and the grip on the sheets wasn’t enough to keep Nami from jerking upwards as her climax sacked into her body. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as the arch in her back brought her body upwards so suddenly she gasped; unable to speak anything other than Daddy. She was a river of slick and emotions, her body levitating and grounded at the same time. The feeling was out of body and it was like she was watching herself get fucked. Terry pulled out long enough to roll her to her hands and knees. There was no hesitation as he slid right back into her velvety walls. He held her hips still as he pounded into her from behind. She could feel his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust and as her arms stretched above her head she wanted to reach back and cup his sack in her hands, feel how heavy he was, and stroke him that way towards pleasure. 
“Push back on it,’ he ordered, grabbing a hand full of her hair to yank her head back. “Show me you want it, doll.” 
Mindlessly, Nami pushed her hips back, letting his dick stretch her in the new position. Terry’s breathing began to change. His breaths were shorter, staggered, and he was trying to control them, but couldn’t. He snatched out of her cunt and pulled her to her feet. Weak, Nami fell into him and he popped her on the thighs. 
Terry spun her around and forced her to bend over at the waist. At the perfect height, Nami touched her toes then wrapped her hands around her ankles. His feet kicked her legs apart right before he lined his dick up and slid back in. He moved her back and forth. There was a lack of balance but her trust in his strength to hold her up, kept her from worrying. She could feel her slick sliding down her legs. 
“Fuck,’ Terry shouted. He moved her to the bed and laid her on her stomach at the edge. His hips slammed into her ass, his dick searching for that gummy spot that made her squirt earlier.  
His eyes dropped to the anal plug he fitted into her earlier. He reached down and tapped it, causing it to move up and down. Nami’s hand swung back the new sensation jolting her body forward. Terry grabbed her wrist and folded her arm across her back. 
“You want me in there,’ he taunted, using his other hand to twist the plug. “You want me to fuck this ass too huh?” He kissed between her shoulder blades as his hand pulled the plug halfway out and pushed it back in. “Yeah, you are,’ he cooed. “You’re going to give Daddy all your holes mmhm,’ he joked, smacking her ass as he fucked her. 
This was his show. Terry felt on top, on cloud nine, and euphoric. The high seeping into his body was making him a bit feral. His grip on Nami tightened, his sack seizing up as Nami soaked his dick again. He was on the precipice of an orgasm when his eyes clenched shut. He bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood, as he thrust became shallow and staggered. His rhythm was thrown off as Nami turned her head after lifting up on her arms to glance back at him. Her eyes were closed in pleasure and her mouth was swollen and parted. She looked fucked out while in sub space. She made soft cooing sounds instead of moans, egging him on. 
“Fuck,’ he cursed, realized it was his favorite of the night, ‘it’s coming, shit I’m gonna cum.” He wasn’t wearing a condom and he hadn’t discussed with Nami where he should shoot his load. He wanted to fill her with it and watch it ooze out. So he was going to.
“Daddy’s gonna nut in this pussy,’ he pulled her backwards, grunting as ropes of hot cum painted her cervix and slippery walls. 
Terry held her still white he emptied his sack, smacking her ass in time to the spurts leaving his tip. Stilling, he let her spasm around his dick, squeezing him deeper as she shook. Terry brought her hips up and pushed her shoulders into the bed. Inch by inch, Terry pulled out. When his tip was left he pushed back in once and Nami’s pussy gushed. Over sensitive, she was spent. Her pussy was spent. Clarity was setting and she inhaled suddenly, dropping to the bed as Terry pulled all the way out. He rolled her over and leaned over her. His lips slanted over hers and she sighed into his mouth. 
“You did so good.” He praises her with kisses. Soft and sweet while her soul found its way back into her body. “See what being good for me gets you?” He reached between her legs and plunged two fingers into her pussy, churning them around while using his load as lubricant. “I told you I was going to teach this pussy what to do.” 
He added his thumb and stroked her clit. He was playing with her now, toying with her over sensitive body. He was slowly bringing her down from that intense pleasure. Safely guiding her down so she didn’t hit the sub drop too hard. 
“Talk to me, beautiful,’ he whispers. “What do you need from me?” 
Nami licked her dry lips, panting as she tried to catch her breath. Speaking felt difficult and she cried suddenly from not being able to form words. She felt good. Everything about what she just experienced was perfect. She just couldn’t form the words to tell him that. Terry pulled his fingers out and smacked her pussy a few times. 
“Water,’ she croaked, finding her voice amid her moaning, ‘please.”
Terry kissed her cheek. “There’s my girl,’ he noted, seeing the clarity returning in her eyes. She was looking at him now, not through him earlier. Fully present in her body, she tried to sit up. Terry pushed her gently back to the bed and helped her crawl towards the top. He grabbed the pillows from the floor and made a cocoon for her to curl up in. His cum leaked out her hole, smeared across her thigh as she moved. Wiping a hand down his face, he shook his head. He snatched up his sweats and strode towards her bathroom. 
He ran her bath first and then slipped into her kitchen. He left the door open so the AC could kick on and cool the room. He grabbed a few waters and some fruit for her to snack on. Coming to the side of the bed, he opened one of the water bottles and pulled Nami to sit up. The cold water cools Nami as soon as it hit her tongue. Terry pulled the bottle away as she choked. 
“Slow,’ he murmured. “Take it easy.” 
She ate strawberries from his hands in between kisses. 
“You were well worth the wait,’ he pulls her face in with a hand on her chin. “How do you feel?” 
“Overwhelmed,’ she sighed, the word falling out of her lips blissfully. Though the haze of pleasure was gone, she was still feel the effects of submitting to Terry. High on his attention, she leaned into him, seeking out his mouth for another kiss. 
Terry entertained her, pulling her to his lap, but keeping her hands in one of his behind her back. Nami wiggled against his hand. 
“Let me touch you, Sir,’ she begged, her lips going from his jaw, to behind his ear, then his neck. She worked her hips against his bulge, aftercare becoming a fleeting thought as Nami worked herself back up. 
“How about you go get in the bath? Let me clean you up and order lunch.” 
Terry stood up, Nami in his arms as he carried her to the bathroom. He supported her with one hand, the other keeping her wrists locked. Placing her on her feet, he brought her hands above her head and helped her into the bath. Nami grimaced as a cool sticky substance rolled down her leg. 
“You’re still leaking out of me,’ she lowered herself into the tub. 
“As I should be.” He kissed the top of her head and opened the cabinet under the sink. She had multiple scents and soaps and he settled on a lavender body wash and pine scented lotion. 
Terry bathed her and carried her back to her bed. He remade it while she soaked in the warm water. Drying her off, he motioned for her to lie down. Back against the pillows he knelt on the bed at her feet and began working lotion into her skin. His thumbs pressed into the arches of her foot, drawing out soft groans. Her calves were next, and Terry took his time there, sucking on her toes. He massaged her body, sucking on her skin in random places. He tugged on a shirt and she noticed it wasn’t yellow, but the black one he came over in. 
Yanking back the sheets, he tucked Nami into them. The bedside lamp turning off as he pulled the little string. 
“I’m not tired,’ she yawned, stretching her limbs. 
“Nap. I’ll have lunch when you wake up.” 
She didn’t remember falling asleep or hear when her bedroom door opened up. Now, something was pulling her awake. Terry, kneeling beside the bed, had pulled her to the edge of it and opened her legs, exposing her sore cunt to his greedy mouth. Each swipe of his tongue wetted his lips. His tongue flicked across her clit before it slipped into her hole, fucking her how his dick had earlier. 
“I got a little hungry,’ he admitted. “I knew this pussy would still be swollen so I came to kiss it better.” 
Nami raised up on her arms to watch his tongue work between her legs. He kept her legs open with his heavy hands. His tongue split her lips apart so he could suck her clit into his mouth. Terry tongued her pussy until she was rocking her hips against his face. The anal plug bumped against his chin and he pulled back to glance at it. 
Pulling away from her, Terry stood up and pulled Nami to her feet. She was able to walk now and followed behind him to the kitchen. Next to the glass of water was another bowl of fruit and a plate of salmon and rice. 
“Do you remember submitting to me?” He asked after a few minutes of silence. 
“A little. It was a lot going on,’ she admitted, ‘it just felt good. My body just gave out.” She chewed on the end of her fork. “Being used like that felt really good.” 
“It’s called sub space. Where your body just feels intensely good yes and you can't put it into words?” 
Nami nodded. 
“Being able to fuck you senseless like that,’ he whistled. “Nami, I’m ready to be back in that pussy. Finish eating so we can play again.” 
┏━°❀•°:🎀 Taglist 🎀:°•❀°━┓
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Part two on 11.24.24
I apologize for the errors. As I re-read I will clean it up. I've been staring at this part for two weeks.
226 notes · View notes
dayas · 2 days ago
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ok what’s your favorite fix it idea for jjiara
JJ not fucking dying 😭😭😭
DISCLAIMER: I haven’t touched Season 4 in any capacity and probably won’t but! If I were to sprinkle my magical fingers over this it would probably go something like…
Firstly, his birth family NOT being shitty. I just think it would be nice for that whole thing to have gone down differently. And if they still wanted to write him off, they could have done so by having him set off to learn more about his heritage.
As far as Jiara goes, I know JJ stole a ring at some point, so I’d keep the near death scene/stabbing (done by somebody completely unrelated to him), have Kiara properly freak out and help him with him reassuring her that everything is going to be fine/hazily going on about future plans when Kie asks him questions to keep him awake. Like, “Keep your eyes open for me, J. Someone’s coming to help. Talk to me, though. Where are we going for our surf trip?”
And he goes, “Island first — Poguelandia was — way too short — ” or something, also definitely a “Promise me you’re not gonna leave me here, JJ.” “Kie—“ “Promise” “I’m not gonna leave you, Kiara. I promise” at some point like I feel like we deserve the reassurance and he would be able to read her worries. She keeps him stable until they’re able to get help. Kiara stays with him all night while he’s being worked on, she doesn’t leave his side for a second and she holds his hand the entire time, just to let him know he’s not alone. JJ finally wakes up the next day and she very carefully hugs him and when she moves back, he looks at her and says something along the lines of, “I actually wanted to do this right, and as fucking cliche as John B and Sarah are, they made a good point…” BOOM! RING! Obviously Kie’s eyes go wide, and she’s just staring at him and of course JJ asks her to marry him, not wanting to waste any more time after their latest and greatest near death experience. Kiara accepts, they kiss, he puts the ring on and winces because of his injury, she apologizes, Sarah comes in and screams when Kie flashes the ring, John B, Pope, and Cleo follow, everyone’s happy and making in law/aunt/uncle jokes, “Now there’s two things to celebrate” etc etc joy abounds and we get prepped for Season Five in a beautiful place.
Now please excuse me while I cry into my pillow for 40 days and 40 nights.
let’s talk shop
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makeucrawl · 2 days ago
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In the most normal way possible,,, I need to know about your headcanon Easterman favorite little kinks—I’m so normal about him I promise 😭
Easterman’s Kinks~
!!!Warning!!!NSFW!!!
Oral
Manwhore for receiving and giving oral.
He’ll have a fist full of your hair, gliding your mouth along his cock; just the way he likes it. His ears suck up all the lovely gasps and gags you make, the small moans and whimpers. He loves watching as you try to touch yourself and suck him off at the same time.
When he’s going down on a lady, he might just be enjoying it more than her. He’d have a wole feast down there, spelling his name on your clit, noisily sucking your juices; there’s really no stopping him and his meal. He just can’t get enough of the way your thighs squeeze around his head, or how your hands pull at his hair, bumping your clit up against his nose. You’re loving the way his mustache tickles your clit each time he sucks it into his mouth. Each time he pulls away to give himself some air, you can see your own juices glistening on his beard and lips. He looks positively drunk off of your juices.
Giving oral to men is not something he dislikes…He enjoys the pressure on his tongue and jaw, as well as the sensation of you pulsing in his mouth. Just don't slap your dick against his face. He despises that. He does not want to appear submissive in any way. If he gives you a blow job, it's because he believes you’re worthy enough to receive one from him. He is rewarding you and you better thank him. He'll let you cum in his mouth, but don't you dare cum on his face.
Pet Play/ Humiliation
Dont think he wont make you walk around the halls a little bit, collar and leash on that pretty little neck of yours with a vibrator in your dripping hole and a tail plug shoved in your ass. “You’re being such a good pet.” He purrs down at you and you can’t stop staring at the obvious tent in his pants. You whine and nuzzle your nose against it wanting a treat. When you try to reach for a his zipper he gives you a “loving” slap across the face. “No hands.” He reminds you his smirking villainously as you use your mouth to pull his zipper down.
Would lock you in a tiny cage in his office if he could. Just to keep you all to himself but also to show off his pet~
Public
Kinda plays in with his “humiliation” kink.
While the two of you are in a meeting, you feel your boss' hand slide up your thigh and nestle between your legs. His large hand effortlessly prys your thighs open, and his fingers work to warm you up. You're getting extremely horny, but you're also in awe of how this man can masturbate you in front of a room full of people without losing his composure.
Once everyone has left the room, he pins you to the table and fucks you right there, well aware that anyone could walk in at any time. The way you whine and beg him to lock the door only encourages him to keep going.
“Daddy”
The best way to get him riled up. Doesn’t need you to call him “sir” or “master” just call him “daddy” and he’s got you bent over the desk in a second.
Just don’t call him that jokingly. He’s not going to ever let it ((or you)) go.
Hands
Wants you to compliment him on his amazingly huge hands. It really strokes his ego just right to see you kiss each of his fingers before slowly sucking on one. As they delve deeper into your soaked hole, he licks his lips as your fluids pool around his rings and drip down his palm. He knows they’re filling you up just right by the way you squeal and your inside grip him so tightly not letting him leave.
He’s licking and sucking his fingers clean while you lay on the bed sheets soaked and hole stretched out. You start to wonder if you can take his whole fist.
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ittybxttykxttytxtty · 3 days ago
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Chelsea, before i start my essay (brainrot). I want you to know that coming back to this hellsite (affectionate) was worth it. Your updates are fucking amazing and I am so proud of you for making this series.
She raises her eyebrows, turns away, you knew she was thinking one of two things, wondering how you managed to befriend an alpha before her, or that someone you called a ‘friend’ would let you scent them. Basically, that you were a slut and she was better than you.
YOU HAVE MADE AN ENEMY OUT OF ME TODAY, MADAM.
Are you really going to make me beg?
WHY NOT? YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL WHEN YOU BEG.
“From your friend?” Renee's voice breaks into your head.
WHY IS SHE HERE AGAIN?!?!? I WAS HAVING SUCH A NICE TIME.
“You’ve been ignoring me. This was the only way I could think of to hear your voice.”
gagshhduabBsgusbdhhahad AAAAAHHHHHJJ, CHELSEAAAAAAAAAA, I NEEEED HIMMMMMMM.
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“Did I do something wrong? Tell me what I did sweetheart, so I can fix it.”
IM SO SO SO SORRY TO TEETH! BILLY....AND AOP!BILLY .....AND TO ALL THE PREVIOUS BILLY-S BUT THIS BILLY IS MY ACTUAL FAVORITE. I LOVE HIM. I WANT HIM. I NEED HIM. HE YEARNS LIKE NO OTHER. ITS LIKE TEETH!BILLY BUT WITH HALF OF THE OBSESSION OF IN THE SHADOW OF YOUR HEART!BILLY 💖💖💖💖💖 I WILL (maybe, sorta) GLADLY BETRAY THE OTHER BILLY-S FOR THIS ONE.
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“Please.” is his low, grovelling response.
AHSGSHAHSHSHHAHSHHHHHHAHAHHA
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“I’m holding you to that, alpha.” You answer, whispering it so that Renée doesn’t overhear you.
FUCK RENÉ. NO, YOU KNOW WHAT. IM CALLING HER RENESME OR CHUCKESEME.
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this is her in my mind now.
You'd never thought of Renée as a friend in any means, but you'd never seen her as any type of adversary until this very moment, as you watch her smile up at William, her neck tilted to the side slightly in offering.
...so she has chosen death 😌 What peace knowing she will bite the dust soon 🖤
There he goes again, making you want him.
A crime, honestly. It should be illegal.
It’s almost like you’re his omega, walking beside him as he confidently guides you into the hotel, nodding at reception and heading straight to the elevators.
Denial runs deep 😭😭😭😭
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“You look…” He lets out an amused breath, shakes his head slightly, “I can’t find the right word. Beautiful? Divine? Bewitching. Radiant...”
Its giving Gomez Addams and I am here for it. Now kiss her all over to complete the lewk 😭🖤
“I just wanted to see you smile.” He says.
THE NEED TO BITE HIM IS SO STRONG RIGHT NOW. I AM FERAL. NOBODY TOUCH ME.
Don't give up on us, omega, we're soulmates, I can feel it.
I HAVE A TOMMY GUN AND A DREAM. THE DREAM IS I PUT BULLET HOLES THROUGH YOU.
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He lets out a breath, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth. The look of leashed delirium in his eyes when he finally opens them.
Unleash it, please. I am begging.
THEY UNLEASHED IT FOR A LITTLE BIT AND I AM SCREAMING, CRYING, THROWING UP.
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“Goodnight, Omega.” He finally says, after a few moments of silence.
HE KNOWS. I KNOW HE KNOWS.
Absolutely, no words. This update is worth every fucking wait. Also, please pray for me. I had to download the picture of that cursed doll. 😭
Objects in Motion
Part 4!
Alpha! Billy Russo x Omega! Reader
No warnings this is wholesome lmaoooooooo
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His scent lingers on you when you walk into work on Monday. Despite how hard you'd tried to wash it off, it clings to your skin, seemingly unwilling to let you go.
Secretly, that delights you, emphasizes the strength of whatever there was between the two of you. It’s equal parts giddy, and terrifying.
That an alpha like him- that he could be interested in you, you have to resist a groan of delight as you wait for the elevator to get to your floor.
The doors slide open and you let out a long sigh, making your way slowly to your desk, smiling and forcing yourself to greet your coworkers.
You were already exhausted by the idea of working, wishing you were still in bed, hidden under piles of blankets to shield you from the world. Maybe a certain alpha would be willing to join you.
Or maybe… maybe you were better off never thinking about him again. 
Honestly, you'd probably be doing him a favour, your situations couldn't be more opposite, you couldn't imagine him ever seeing where you lived, it might hurt you to see the pity written across his face.
Worse, you'd just be a burden to him, he'd probably feel obligated to take care of you, and if things didn't work out- you shudder- you didn't even want to think about it.
But God, you were so attracted to him that it hurt. You couldn't stop thinking about him, and the ways he would touch you, the ways he might feel, the size of him-
You blink in surprise, feeling a small flush of pheromones around you. Damn, work was the worst place for this.
At the same time, you catch sight of Renée, the only other omega in the department, making her way toward you, her desk situated nearby.
She glances at you, gives you a subtle nod while dropping her stuff, before pausing, and turning to you.
“You smell like an Alpha.” She says, no question in her tone.
Renée was the type of person to speak somewhat kindly to your face, the perfect facade of caring, but you knew people, and you knew that she would find a way to work this interaction into office gossip.
“I made a friend.” You answer inexplicably, trying to keep a poker face, knowing that shyness would do you no favours here.
She raises her eyebrows, turns away, you knew she was thinking one of two things, wondering how you managed to befriend an alpha before her, or that someone you called a ‘friend’ would let you scent them. Basically, that you were a slut and she was better than you.
“Well, I hope you have fun.” She says, smiling over at you sweetly. 
“Thanks.” You mutter politely, tugging your headset on, and getting ready to start your day.
Your phone pings in the middle of the morning peak hours, and you pause speaking to glance down at it, seeing yet another message from the alpha himself.
He’d been sending texts all weekend, texts that you had been ignoring, though you weren’t exactly sure why.
You shake your head, apologising for your pause, before resuming your work.
When the call ends, you take a bathroom break, pulling down your notification bar to see what he’s said.
You catch sight of all the other messages before, sighing as guilt fills you.
I hoped you had a nice time, sweetheart, I’d like to see you again.
Omega?
Please don’t feel shy about the car, I wanted it too.
Are you ignoring me?
Good morning, sweetheart. Let’s have dinner.
Are you really going to make me beg?
It was almost hard to breathe, the way he seemed so desperate for you. You could almost feel his desire through the phone, like an ache in your chest, sticking like tar to the back of your throat.
Denying him might be the hardest thing you've ever had to do, but it was for the best, you decide as you lock your phone. You would not be played for a fool ever again.
He calls during your lunch break, you swallow and flip your phone over, muting the call while you eat your small packed lunch.
Why wasn't he getting the message? Would it really be that hard to free yourself of him?
You don't get any more messages or calls after that, and you assume he gives up when you hear nothing else from him for the rest of the day.
Your transit home is bitter, the thought that you'd successfully chased an alpha away hurts, like you knew it would.
He might have been amazing, he might have been warm. You tip your head back on the bus, taking in a deep breath and exhaling agony.
Worse, his scent fades even more the next day, and where you'd been trying to scrub it from you over the weekend, you cling to it now, wishing it would stay just a few days more.
You stop, surprised, when you see a single sunflower sitting on your work desk in the morning. 
It's in a little transparent vase, and your heart gives a violent uptick as you approach, reaching for the little card you see pressed under the vase, raising it to your nose, taking a deep breath.
Your eyes roll back in your head at the pure scent of him. He'd probably rubbed the harsh little card against his scent gland, trying to get your attention by any means necessary. 
You go so weak in the knees that you're forced to brace a hand against your desk to support you.
You draw back, flipping the card open, finding one word written neatly in his hand.
Please
You bite down in the corner of your lip, smiling. Guess you hadn't chased him away after all.
Was this good? Was this bad? You didn't know, all you could feel is your chest fluttering at the idea that you'd pushed this Alpha away as hard as you could and he was still here, trying to calmly approach, not overwhelming you by physically getting into your space, but letting his actions speak for him, reminding you that he was still here.
Could you hope that his feelings were real? That he really cared about you, where other Alphas had only themselves in mind?
“From your friend?” Renee's voice breaks into your head.
You turn, dropping your hand as if you've been caught.
“Yeah.” You breathe out, turning to busy yourself with work, feeling her eyes glued to the back of your head.
When you finally settle in, staring at the flower, you frown, remembering the way the second alpha you'd been with had used your own desires against you. He'd twisted your need to be cared for, making it seem like your only purpose was to serve him. Adam had left you aching for crumbs and hating yourself for it.
You could almost cry from the memory, that alphas could be so cruel, so manipulative, that it was always a game and you needed to keep your cards close to your chest.
Why, would William be any different?
Why were you wishing with everything you had, that he was?
You bring the card up to your nose, breathing in his scent, hoping.
.
You’re staring at his unopened messages yet again, trying to figure out what to say to him when the phone on your desk rings.
You straighten, grabbing your headset, tugging it on before answering, giving your quick, jovial greeting.
There’s a long pause, that alerts you to the fact that this call might not be totally normal.
“Omega.” The voice finally says, and your mouth drops open in surprise.
“William?” You ask, almost choking on your words, “You- these calls are recorded for quality purposes.” 
“You’ve been ignoring me. This was the only way I could think of to hear your voice.”
Jesus Christ, you could feel your heart palpitating in your chest.
“We shouldn’t be talking on this line.” You respond shakily.
“Did I do something wrong? Tell me what I did sweetheart, so I can fix it.”
Ohmygod, you clear your throat, adjusting yourself in your seat with the way his voice is affecting you.
“William-”
“-I can’t stop thinking about you. I need to see you again, even if it’s for you to tell me you want me to leave you alone. I’ll beg if I have to.”
You blink, mouth parting, unable to speak.
“We shouldn’t.” You try.
“Please.” is his low, grovelling response.
Your breath hitches as he continues on repeat, slow, drawing out each word with his voice echoing through your headset, sending shivers over your spine.
“Please, please, please, please, please-”
“Okay.” You stumble out, “Alright.”
You hear him sigh a breath of relief.
“Let’s have dinner tonight. My treat.”
“I don’t-” You start before cutting off, cheeks aflame with embarrassment, “-I have nothing to wear.”
“Don’t fret little one, I’ll pick you up after work. I’ll take care of everything, you just have to withstand my company for one night, and if you really want me to, I’ll leave you alone after.”
“I’m holding you to that, alpha.” You answer, whispering it so that Renée doesn’t overhear you.
He hums over the line, a little laugh after a few moments.
“Thank you, omega, see you later.”
You mumble your goodbye, ending the call on your side.
It warms your core for minutes after, unbelievably turned on by him, unable to deny the way you were feeling, you bring the card up to your nose once more, breathing him in.
.
He sends you a quick message a few minutes before your work day ends to tell you that he’s waiting in the lobby for you.
You feel a nervous twist in your stomach as you close your files, and pack up your things, glancing over to see that Renee hadn’t come back from her trip to the bathroom just yet, normally bidding her goodbye before you leave.
You wonder if you should bring the sunflower with you, but you figure it would be fine here and you can just take it home tomorrow. On the other hand, seeing it here really did make the day more bearable. 
You decide to think about it later, heading for the elevator, your bag in hand.
You catch his scent as the doors slide open, smiling wistfully as bergamot surrounds you, tugging you to him.
You round the corner and stop short in shock.
You'd never thought of Renée as a friend in any means, but you'd never seen her as any type of adversary until this very moment, as you watch her smile up at William, her neck tilted to the side slightly in offering.
It's a very bold move, to openly present your scent gland to a possible stranger, and you glance up at his face, noting his expression.
His eyebrows are pinched, mouth turned down into a frown, confusion maybe, perhaps a hint of distaste.
You didn't know you were good at reading lips until this moment as well, but you know without a doubt that he says the words ‘I'm sorry, I'm not interested.’ despite how far away you are.
 Then, he turns, eyes meeting yours as if he knew exactly where you were.
He mutters something you think is ‘excuse me,’ before he begins walking in your direction.
In a well pressed white shirt, tucked into charcoal grey pants, he approaches you with even strides, never breaking eye contact, making you feel the intensity of him as he draws near.
You feel your spine stiffen, head angling upward the closer he gets, until he's standing before you, drinking you in.
“Hello, sweetheart, thank you for giving me another chance to see you.”
You gulp.
“D- don't make me regret it.” You stutter out, trying to stand your ground on your boundaries.
“Never.” He promises, extending his elbow out for you to take. You eagerly oblige, reaching up to grip his bicep securely, maybe a little bit more than necessary.
You keep your head down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone on your way out.
He's not driving this time, guiding you toward a very big SUV, with blackout windows and a cozy leather interior.
There’s so much room, enough for him to extend his legs when he slides in beside you, closing the door and tapping twice on the partition separating the two of you from the driver.
“Wow,” you murmur, looking around, even noticing a small fridge in the space across from you, “This- is this yours?”
He hums.
“Technically, they belong to the company, but I get to use it when I need to.”
You blink, realising that he was trying to be humble about it.
Smiling, you turn to look at him, eyes widening when you realise how close he’d gotten to you when you were distracted.
“You smell like me, omega.” He whispers into the space between you, his dark eyes searching yours, leaning in, he presses his nose to your hair.
You hear the soft inhale, your body stiffening, trying to resist your own instinct to present your scent gland to him. His own scent fills the space around you, and his shaky exhale brushes your ear as he leans away.
“I won’t lie and say I’m not pleased by it. You have power over me, sweetheart, I hope you know that.”
Your breaths sharpen, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down harshly trying to recenter your thoughts.
How could he say something like that so easily? As if it were in his nature to be so… devoted.
His gaze dips to your mouth, lingering there for a long moment before he smiles softly.
“How was work today?” He inquires, leaning back further, taking a few deep breaths, in what you can only assume is an attempt to calm himself.
It was great, you want to say, but the words won't come out with the way he's looking at you, as if you're his next meal, or his deity.
You can't decide.
“Omega?”
“Good.” You blurt, losing control of your thinking, did you even really have a good day? You don't have the brain power to remember.
You turn your head away, blinking, trying to… think. It was hard to focus on anything other than him, the way he was filling your head with primal static, the urge to obey, to succumb washing over you.
“I’m sorry,” You finally say, dropping your head into your hands, “being around you isn’t easy. It’s hard to control myself.”
You feel pressure in your throat, tears springing to your eyes, a dam on the brink of bursting.
His hand presses securely between your shoulder blades.
“Breathe,” He says calmly, you turn your head to find warm, encouraging eyes.
Oh, you think to yourself as you follow his instruction, breathing in softly, feeling those primal desires soften under the guidance of the very man causing them.
“There you go,” His voice makes your stomach flutter, “There’s nothing to be sorry about, little one.”
There he goes again, making you want him.
What would it cost, to reach up and kiss him? To press your fingers into his jaw while your mouths meet, to feel him like that, to exist with him in that way?
You let out a soft sigh, relaxing, living in that thought for a few moments.
When he’s sure you’re calm enough, he smiles.
“Now, let’s start over- was your day actually good?”
You feel amusement rise inside of you.
“Yeah,” you utter softly, “No one yelled at me, so I call it a win.”
He blinks, his expression turning sorrowful.
“People often yell at you?”
You nod.
“Customer service… is an excuse for small people to make someone else feel small.”
Something changes in his eyes, sorrow moulting into something else- his jaw tightening.
“I don't like the sound of that.” He admits.
You offer him a wry smile.
“That's just how things are, I guess. This is what I have to work with.” You stop yourself from complaining more, worried that it might upset him to hear the way people treated you, to hear them make derogatory comments, to question your intellect as if you'd personally inconvenienced them.
His hand moves from your shoulder, tracing its way up to the back of your neck, and then to the side, his thumb in perfect reach of your scent gland and your brain goes hazy at the thought.
Instead of your gland, his thumb reaches up to stroke the edge of your jaw calmly.
“What happens if someone is too aggressive? What's the protocol? Do you transfer them to a manager?”
You gulp, remembering one time that happened, you'd gotten reprimanded after.
“Yeah that's the protocol, but I think it's best if I solve the problem myself, and get approvals on my own. It's not usually good to waste my supervisor's time.”
His thumb gently stroking your cheek lulls you, fits you into a space where you feel safe to talk about these things.
“Does anyone at your job yell at you?”
“Not… yell,” you hesitate for a moment, enjoying his caress, “they're just… warnings. I'm- I try to do my best to avoid that.” You huff out a breath, “I guess I got yelled at once, when I first started, but not after that.”
You gulp, glancing at him, the soft fire in his eyes as he studies you, his thumb dipping, circling the spot right above your gland.
Your lips part, your mind begging you to reach out to him.
The car slows to a stop.
You take a deep breath, eyes widening when you scent the mixture of pheromones in the air, you might as well be begging him on your knees with how potent it was. It sort of surprised you that he was able to resist it.
You want to say something to him, anything to fill the silence that swarms in as your eyes meet his, but your brain is blissfully blank, not a single cohesive thought other than how badly you wanted him.
He gives you a patient smile.
“We’re here.” He says.
“Where?” You ask softly.
“Hotel,” He answers softly, “I rented a room so you can get dressed and meet me in the restaurant for dinner.”
Renting a room? On a second date?
“Oh…” You mumble, trying to figure out if you needed to clarify your boundaries for him again.
You don’t get the chance, the door opens and you have to busy yourself with stepping out instead of addressing your concerns.
He extends his hand for you to take, and you do so eagerly, aching even more when you feel his large hand interlocked with yours.
It’s almost like you’re his omega, walking beside him as he confidently guides you into the hotel, nodding at reception and heading straight to the elevators.
The doors close and you can feel your body throbbing. Was he expecting more from you than you were ready for?
“William?”
“Yes, Omega?”
You blink, looking up at him, unable to voice the words, the topic of conversation is too sensitive, the words can barely leave your mouth. Your mind races to find something else to ask.
“Do you- um- live around here?”
He tilts his head for a moment, maybe sensing your hesitation.
“Not really, I live close to where I work, home to office you know?”
You nod, smiling, before facing forward once more, a slither of discomfort in your spine.
You can feel his eyes on you, no doubt trying to read you while you debate whether this was a good idea or not.
When the doors slide open, he begins speaking again.
“I hired a stylist, to help, if that’s okay, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He guides you down a well lit hallway, and stops at a door before turning to face you.
“Is this okay? Or is it too much?” He questions softly, and you dip your head, unable to meet his eyes.
“It’s a bit much.” You mumble, looking down at your shoes.
He bends his body, smiling as he manages to fit his head into your line of sight, it pulls a small smile from you too.
“If you could bear with me, omega.” He whispers so softly that the words kick off a yearning need in your head, “I have a surprise that will hopefully make up for it.” 
You tilt your head up, and he moves, straightening his body to remain in your line of sight.
“Okay.” You surrender, trying to allow yourself to be swept up by him, even temporarily.
He gives you a pleased smile, hindbrain preening in response that you’ve made alpha happy. He turns, knocking on the door.
After a few moments, an omega with a kind smile opens the door. He introduces her as Maria, and you spare him one more glance before you step into the room, nodding when he says he’ll see you on the roof in two hours.
.
The elevator plays soft music as you travel upward, the sound of your own breathing heavy in your ear.
You weren't sure you'd picked the right dress, a little self conscious that you'd chosen something that might be too juvenile.
The strawberry dress had been too beautiful, your eyes had been drawn to it the moment you saw it, and no matter how hard you tried to convince Maria that it was a bad idea, she'd insisted that you picked the dress you most loved. 
You really did like it, the tulle and the colour, and the cut of the dress going so low that you'd skipped your bra and used boob tape to hold your cleavage in place.
You weren't sure how painful removal would be, Maria had suggested baby oil, you just hope you had some at home.
She'd fixed your hair into soft curls,  and she was really nice about what you liked and didn't, and by the end of it, she felt more like a friend helping you than a stylist being paid to do so.
The elevator doors open, and you cautiously step out. You take a deep breath through your nose, catching the faded scent of him, and following it.
Down a short hallway, and into a large open restaurant space. It was quiet, void of anyone, tables and booths empty.
You frown a little, confused as to why a restaurant this opulent would be closed. Sure, it was still daylight out on a weekday, but it didn't make sense to you on a business level.
The entire restaurant is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, with a large pane of glass in the middle of the room, blurry with falling water.
The soft sound invites you, and as you get closer, You make out a wavy silhouette behind the glass.
You step around it, finding William facing the window, looking down at his phone.
He's dressed pristinely in a dark blue shirt, black pants and shoes, though the top buttons on his shirt are open, giving off a more casual vibe than his work shirt from earlier.
You watch him take a slow breath, and then lift his head in realisation, turning to look at you.
You smile at him as he turns, fitting his phone into his pocket in one swift moment, slowly approaching you.
He doesn't say anything, and you're too afraid to see repulsion in his eyes to keep looking at him, so instead you study his attire as well, admiring the way he looks, noticing the delicate silver chain shimmering around his neck as he moves.
He says your name, and you glance up at him with wide eyes as he stands before you.
He takes another slow breath, and raises a hand to push some of your hair away from your scent gland, the tips of his fingers just gently brushing it, eliciting an almost violent shiver of pleasure. 
“You look…” He lets out an amused breath, shakes his head slightly, “I can’t find the right word. Beautiful? Divine? Bewitching. Radiant...”
Delight bubbles inside of you until you can't resist a pleased smile.
“Thank you, Alpha, you look very nice too.”
When you say his title, you watch his eyes darken, his scent growing a little stronger in the space between you as his body calls out to yours.
You can feel it, the heat between you, the promise that he would take care of your every need no matter what.
“Hungry?” He asks, and you swear his words have a double meaning.
You nod, because you can't say it out loud, that you were starving, famished, not just for food but for the pleasure of his company, for the pleasure of him.
He guides you to the far end of the restaurant, towards a secluded corner, where there's a table waiting for you. 
You don’t get a chance to study the table because you’re distracted by a large… object covered in a velvet shroud. 
You walk around the object, preoccupied with it, turning to look at William with your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“It’s my surprise,” He explains, stepping closer to you so that you can breathe him in, “I hope you like it.”
You look at it, the velvet shroud going up high, hanging precariously from the ceiling you think, one firm tug might bring it down.
When you look back at him, he’s got his eyes on you.
“When can I see what it is?” You ask eagerly.
He blinks, as if coming back to himself, glancing at the object as if he’s just remembered it.
“Take a step back,” He instructs, waiting until you comply to give another directive with a low voice.
“Close your eyes.”
Your heart pounds, excitement and anxiety war within you, the former winning over as you let your eyes close.
You hear footsteps, and then a tug, the sound of the shroud falling and the wind it generates as it does, caressing your face.
There’s a moment of silence, where your impatience fights you to open your eyes before he says, but you try your best to wait for William’s permission.
“You can open them now.”
You gasp in shock when you recognise what you’re looking at.
There’s so much gold, the painting glimmers in the light of the falling sun, you take a step forward, unsure of where to begin your examination. 
You tilt your head, studying the little flowers first, eyes roaming up to examine the clothing of the two subjects in the portrait, then the hands, the different colours, the flowers in her hair, the leaves in his.
A larger, male subject, pressing a kiss onto his lover’s cheek.
The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt.
“It’s beautiful, so much like the real one.” You murmur absentmindedly.
“It is the real one.” 
You pause, unable to register his words, before turning to him in shock, lips parted.
The alpha’s pleased expression grows into a smile.
“What do you mean this is the real one? The real one’s in Europe somewhere.”
He nods, as if to agree with you.
“Vienna, yes.”
You turn to examine the painting once more.
“...How?...Why?”
“I think you’ll find that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make your eyes glitter like they are right now.”
Me? You think in shock, looking away, down, towards the floor, unable to process the implications of his words.
He takes a step closer to you, catching your attention, you turn to him just as he reaches you. 
For a long moment, all you do is look into each other’s eyes. You take a slow breath, breathing in his citrus smell, the bergamot chasing after you.
You turn your head back to the painting, studying it while you feel his eyes on you.
“It’s gorgeous, Alpha, thank you.” You feel so much emotion, that it fills your throat and threatens to spill out.
Your lip wobbles, glancing up at him for a moment, and then turning away when you realise that he can probably see the tears in your eyes.
You feel his hand on your arm.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why the tears?”
“It’s stupid, sorry.” You take a deep breath, sighing when he extends a handkerchief to you that you accept gratefully.
His hand moves, to wrap around your back, pulling you into his chest.
“Talk to me.” He whispers, his breath disturbing your hair.
“No one’s ever-” You let out a little laugh of delirium, “-No one’s ever done something so thoughtful for me.”
He hums, as though he understands, sympathizes with you, he wraps his arms around you, tucks your head into his chest.
His scent wraps around you, soothing you almost instantly, your eyes flutter shut as you register the beat of his heart below your ear.
“I just wanted to see you smile.” He says.
You do.
.
Dinner comes in a few moments later, and he guides you to the table just behind, with soft, comfortable chairs to settle into. He even checks in on your level of ease, inquiring about the brightness, and whether or not it was satisfactory. You smile softly, calmly reassuring him that the area was perfect, the tint on the windows keeping the intensity of the light low. Dim and comfortable, you can’t really ask for anything more.
The first course is a light broth, and you're a little confused that they brought this out without having you look at a menu.
It's definitely refreshing, to not have to struggle with a decision on what to eat, but you're not sure if to ask William about it, in case it's just some rich person custom that you're unfamiliar with.
In any case, this arrangement pleases you because it means you can stare at The Kiss in admiration while the sun sets, casting a soft orange glow around the room, enhancing the mostly gold painting.
“Will you tell me about it?” William asks, and you spare a shy glance at him.
He tilts his head in the direction of the painting. You swallow your food, gathering your thoughts to answer.
“It's inspired by the painter and his lover, it's one of the most popular paintings of an alpha and omega pairing. There was a… speculation that they were soulmates, but I'm not sure how true that is. Some people think that because the omega is turning away, that the kiss isn't consensual… but I don't think so, she seems… happy to me.”
“You don't think they were soulmates?”
You turn to William.
“Not really, I don't… believe in the soulmate theory.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“No?” He says curiously.
You shake your head.
“It's a little unreal to think that there’s some kind of perfect match for a person.” 
“It's not necessarily a perfect match like in the movies, it's a suggestion of… compatibility really.” He says.
You blink, studying his expression, wanting to express your disbelief that he would believe in something so farfetched but not wanting to be disrespectful.
“It's not even a perfect match, it's the way the theory specifically targets alpha and omega pairings. As if omegas aren't already bound by their biology enough, someone had to come up with an idea to hold us back even further by romanticising the concept of an alpha match.” You keep your tone calm, so that he understands you're not upset.
He tilts his head in contemplation.
“You don't like the idea of being with an alpha?”
You swallow.
“That's… not what I mean. I just don't like being forced into thinking that it's my only option in search of companionship.”
He makes a face of contemplation, seeming to understand where you were coming from.
Plus, it was a trick alphas had used with you in the past to encourage you to stay in toxic environments.
Don't give up on us, omega, we're soulmates, I can feel it.
You had been fooled before, it would not happen again.
William studies you for a long moment, and you gaze back evenly, before he smiles, tilting his head once more to lighten the mood.
“You make a good point, but still, I can’t help but point out the ways alphas are made for omegas, of course a pairing between them would be stronger.”
His words take you aback, it's the first time someone has ever made the comment that alphas are the ones made for omegas, usually they say it the other way around.
“Maybe…” You concede, unable to stop yourself from thinking about his words. You wonder for a brief moment if he was made for you.
It sends a warm feeling across your chest.
You turn your head, looking up at The Kiss.
“My past experience has made me skeptical about the entire theory, Alphas before have used it to keep me compliant.”
He lets out an audible breath, and when you turn your head to look at him, you find his fists curled and his head dipped low.
The scent of anger hits you, spicy in the air, like a mix between smoke and hot peppers.
“Alpha?” You whisper in concern, worried that his anger is directed toward you.
Tentatively, you reach out, fingers shaking slightly as you touch one of his clenched fists.
He relaxes the fist, turns his hand upward so that his palm is pressed upward into yours. Your palm tingles where you touch.
“Angry on your behalf, omega,” He tries to explain with a low voice, “You shouldn't have had to go through that.”
Realisation washes over you. The smell of his anger excites you now that you understand it's not directed at you.
You feel butterflies, you feel warmth, you suck in a deep breath to get some semblance of control over your hindbrain.
“Thank you, Alpha.” Your voice, almost a purr.
He blinks, studying you,  his eyes shifting from surprise to pleased as he realises the effect he has on you.
The sound of footsteps coming your way makes you draw back.
The second course is lobster pasta, creamy and delicious and you try extra hard not to make yourself messy while eating it.
“What do you think?” He asks between bites of his food.
You look up, eyes wide as he gazes back at you.
You swallow your food, thinking hard about what to say.
“I'm still skeptical about the soulmate theory, but maybe you're right that it does exist. Looking at the painting up close, you see that gold aura surrounding both of them? I think that's supposed to represent their bond. They loved each other, there's no question there.”
You watch a smile pull onto his perfect face.
“I meant the meal, sweetheart.”
Your face grows warm.
“Oh… It's good!” You look down at the plate shyly, “Yeah.”
He chuckles. 
“You're very cute when you're shy.”
You bite the edge of your lip, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
He grins down at you and something warm settles in your stomach. You wanted to kiss him.
Maybe you could, maybe he would let you. 
In this beautiful dress you feel like you're not yourself, your insecurities washing away under his gaze. For the first time, you’re just an omega, enjoying the company of an alpha that you hope could be yours in time.
You think about being in his arms, the way he makes you feel, his ability to soothe you, the ways you hope he would sate you.
You suck in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before your pheromones give away your needy state of mind.
Should you take him up on his offer to be his Omega? Would it be possible to balance that? How would it even work?
“William?” You say softly.
He pauses his movements to look at you.
“Earlier- Maria called you ‘Billy’- made me wonder if you were friends?”
The corner of his lips pull into an affectionate smile, you try really hard not to worry about the other omega.
“Maria is mated to my brother, Frank. She owns a small salon on the east side, I thought she would help you feel comfortable.”
That's so thoughtful, you think.
“Yes, she was amazing, thank you.”
If this was a trap, then it was well set, you couldn't see a flaw, you didn't have any reason to think he could be like other Alphas.
“Everyone has called me “Billy” for as long as I can remember. My real name had never really appealed to me until I heard you say it.”
You give him a warm smile, your stomach fluttering at the privilege you didn't realize you had until now.
You wanted this so much that it terrified you. To be his Omega- what would it be like? To have unrestrained access to him, to be able to scent him as you please, to be scented in return.
He sucks in a sharp breath, leaning away, it catches your attention. Your eyes widen when you realise your pheromones are heavy in the air.
His eyes roll shut, he lets out a shaky breath, fingers curling because of you for the second time tonight.
It doesn't help, the look of him, barely restrained, fighting his nature with every ounce of self control only makes you want him more.
“I'm sorry.” You whisper, scared to break his focus.
He lets out a breath, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth. The look of leashed delirium in his eyes when he finally opens them.
“Don't be.” He responds, his voice so deep that it almost makes you shiver with how pleasing it sounds.
You suck in deep breaths too, to calm yourself, eyes drifting to the painting to let it distract you.
You certainly were a match, there was no question about it, the urge to tear at each other was there, the only thing holding you back was social etiquette, and your internal reservations.
The effect your heat must have had on him- you almost feel sorry for what you might have put him through. 
Dessert is a caramel drizzled pecan cookie, soft and chewy, the right amount of spices and sugar that makes you lick your fingers afterwards with the knowledge that it was the best cookie you've ever had.
You catch him looking at you with kind eyes and you try your best not to shy away from his gaze.
When you excuse yourself to the restroom, you try to look like you know where you're going, at least until you're out of his eyesight, and then you wander around the empty restaurant until you find a sign pointing you in the right direction.
You’re in one of the stalls when you hear loud voices and footsteps.
“-my god! That is literally the hottest Alpha I’ve ever seen in real life.” A first voice says, on the side of a little too high pitched for your sensitive ears.
“I knoooow,” The other person responds, “I would literally do anything he asked me to do.”
You pause, feeling a little strange to interrupt their obviously personal conversation by stepping out.
“I heard from Tim that he rented out the entire restaurant for the night just to impress some omega.”
Wait, were they talking about William?
You hear the stall next to you open and close, the taps turning on.
“No, I think they had to clear the restaurant for the night because of the painting and something about security.”
“Oh, that makes sense, the amount he must have paid to get all that done in one evening. God, I would jump him literally after dessert.”
You hear a groan, the sound of water as the taps turn on.
“I know right? I’ve been totally scenting the air in hopes that he gives me a second look. Nothing too obvious, only subtle enough for him. I really, really hope…”
The rest is unintelligible as the voices fade.
You wait a few more moments to make sure they’re really gone before you unlatch the door and step out.
It’s a lot of information to have overheard, and you’re not really sure what to think.
You step up to the sink, washing your hands methodically, reaching for a little towel to dry your hands, before looking up at your reflection in the mirror.
You smile at yourself, hindbrain preening that Alpha had gone through such lengths to capture and hold your attention. That maybe, Alpha wanted you, really really wanted you and no other omega would do.
He’s standing at the painting when you see him again, the table has been cleared, and you watch him as he focuses on the canvas in front of him.
He turns to look at you when he catches movement in his peripherals.
You’re very skittish to approach him, your mind spinning at a mile a minute, trying to both overthink and under simplify the actions you want to make.
The expression on your face must worry him, his eyebrows draw together as he studies you.
“Is everything alright?” He asks calmly, and you lift your head, studying his face of concentration.
You part your lips, trying to speak, no words able to leave your moving lips.
He dips his head, trying to make sense of the nothingness escaping you.
His scent fills your nose, the citrus, the bergamot, a very new touch of spice that pushes your hindbrain into desperation.
“Alpha.” You whisper softly, a touch of yearning in your voice, tilting your head up to press your lips to his.
It’s an instant, and total erasure of any higher thought. The way his mouth feels against yours, like something ancient and primal finding its way back to each other again. A familiarity that your mind and body has been searching for from the day you presented. 
It’s over too soon, even though it feels like it lasted forever. Time slows as you lean away, looking up at him, searching his eyes for any sign that you’ve made the wrong move, the ghost of his touch tingling at your lips.
You listen to the depth of his breathing, your heart hammering anxiously in your chest, awaiting his reaction. You catch a flare of his scent, the citrus notes deepening and your hindbrain eases your anxiety, a response that tells you that Alpha is pleased.
Finally, he makes a low hum, stepping forward, one arm winding around your back so that your bodies are pressed flush to each other.
“Omega.” He rumbles in response, fingers under your chin to tilt your head, guiding your mouth to his once more.
His mouth is insistent, pressing back, meeting every move of your desire with a response of his own. He moans, his warm breath on your tongue as the kiss grows into something… more.
Losing yourself, your hands cling to his shoulders, finding balance as you rise onto your toes, desperate to taste him, to feel the ache of yearning ease with each move of his mouth.
His lips are soft, sinful, you can feel his barely restrained movements, his hand gliding to grip the back of your neck, trapping you in place as if you could ever think about departing from his embrace.
Your scent gland tingles, spilling your need into the air, your body trying its best to entice him.
His mouth grows more insistent, demanding, and you find yourself responding, lips parting, tongue reaching out to gently graze along his bottom lip. 
His hold on you tightens, fingers gripping your hip deliciously, desire pooling low in your stomach in response.
Both of his hands cup your face, kisses slowing as if he's trying to find the strength to stop but unable to.
You smile into the kisses, each one more meaningful than the last, until finally he pauses, looking down at you with a pleased expression on his face.
His thumb glides along your lips, the scent of both your desires intermingling heavily in the air.
“I take it then, that you don't want me to leave you alone after this?” 
You huff out a laugh, almost rolling your eyes.
He grins too, before leaning in to get one more kiss.
“Maybe,” you murmur softly, “Maybe I don't.”
He hums in agreement, dipping his head, unable to stop himself from getting yet another kiss.
Your heart feels so full in your chest, it feels like you're going to burst with the flood of emotion. He doesn't push you into anything, avoids touching your scent glands though you know you both want him to. You can feel his fingers tightening their grip on your cheek and jaw, trying their hardest not to wander.
His scent grows more potent in the room, and by the time you leave, the betas in the restaurant are giving him their largest doe eyed stares.
It's a shame for them that he barely spares them a glance, his hand settled on the small of your back to put you at ease by making you feel protected.
His scent overwhelms you in the car, but you've been aching and wet for a while and you've just kind of gotten used to the discomforts of unresolved desire. You know without a doubt that you're going to have to relieve this ache inside of you by yourself tonight, and it's definitely going to be his name on your tongue the entire time you do it.
You take a long look at him beside you, and you wonder if he would be doing the same.
Tucked into his side, it's easy to tilt your head up, and press your nose to his scent gland, breathing him in, hearing him groan in response, your body tingling.
He doesn't stop you, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip hard to stop yourself from kissing the spot on the base of his neck.
It's surreal, the time you spend with him, that when he stops at the wrong building, it's like a punch to the gut.
This is where you'd lied and told him you lived… because you were ashamed of your real address.
“Can I walk you to your door?” He asks politely, warm reassurance in his eyes that he simply wants to make sure you're safe.
“No.” You answer hastily, smiling in an attempt to put him at ease, “I'm alright, thank you.”
You glance down at your strawberry dress, anxiety filling you at the thought of being seen in something like this, that it might catch attention you didn't want.
“It's cold outside, do you want my coat?”
You blink up at him in surprise.
He gives you a teasing smile, reaching for a garment on the seat in front of him, producing a familiar coat and extending it to you.
You swallow, accepting the coat on autopilot, face heating as you remember the things you did with this coat during your last heat.
You bring it up to your nose, hindbrain in control, taking a slow inhale of his scent.
Fuck, it was delicious. Your mouth waters as you meet his dark eyes.
“Thank you, Alpha.” You purr, sliding the coat on, over your dress, watching his eyes darken further at the sound of your voice.
He reaches up, trapping a lock of your hair between his fingers, twisting it, tugging on it gently as his hand slides down.
He looks like he’s deep in thought, but you’re just not sure about what.
“Goodnight, Omega.” He finally says, after a few moments of silence.
Stepping out of the car, leaving him behind, your limbs grow heavy with protest the further away you get from him.
When you make it into the building, you finally see his SUV drive away.
.
There’s an ache to leaving you behind that leaves Billy both confused and captivated.
He lets out a slow breath, sinking into the seat, head tipped back. 
Keeping himself in check had been the most difficult thing he’d ever experienced. To look at you, was to want you, and to want you, was to need you. Every look, every touch, every smile on your mouth was a lesson in self control. 
He was unbelievably afraid of scaring you away, that his control would slip, and his desires would show, and they would terrify you into leaving.
The ways he wanted you, the ways he thought about you. He lets out a soft groan, tugging at his shirt to get himself more air, but all he can smell is you.
He wants the feel of your bare hips in his hands, the taste of your skin in his mouth, his lips over your scent gland, your pitiful little whines filling his ears as he takes his time with you, discovering every way one human can make another fall apart, so that he can put you back together again.
Thoughts, that were maybe too insane to be thinking after a second date. Thoughts that would make you run if you knew just how close he’d been to actually carrying them out. No Omega, had ever made him hurt with the fear of rejection quite like this before.
That solid ache in his chest to be in your presence was only getting stronger, and then you'd kissed him.
He lifts a hand, pressing it to his mouth, remembering the way your lips had felt, the way your scent had sweetened. He resists a groan, your scent calling out to him like a beacon in the dark.
With his eyes closed, he could feel a pull, drawing him in the opposite direction of where he was going.
His apartment is lonely. The silence is loud, the smell is all wrong. He fits himself into his single sofa chair, large enough that his pretty Omega could fit herself into the space beside him, or on top of him if she’d like. He sips on the whiskey in his hand, an attempt to ease his nerves, to make the wrongness of his place feel a little less so.
He lets the silence fill him, wonders what you’re doing, thinks about texting you. He opens his phone and sees all his sent messages.
Billy hesitates.
Maybe he should wait, let you reach out this time, whenever you were ready. 
Puts his phone down, thinks about you more, groans when he catches your scent on his clothes.
It hurt to wait. It made his chest burn with the notion that he couldn’t just reach out to you, because you might draw back.
He presses a hand to his chest, tries to take a deep breath and be patient.
The whiskey is almost finished when he feels his phone vibrate.
He picks it up, and smiles.
.
.
.
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myriam-draws · 1 year ago
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some starfires i’ve drawn a bit over time i miss her (i refuse to read titans 2023)
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chickenstilldancing · 2 months ago
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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years ago
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Listen, there are reasons June is my favorite and this is one of those reasons
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japhoriaa · 1 year ago
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i'm rewatching atsv on netflix rn, & i'm laughing cause he is so damn sassy.
The stuff he be sayinnn 😭😭!!!
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mrsfoyet · 1 year ago
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Thomas Gibson - The Devils Child
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the-lark-ascending69 · 7 months ago
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> be a robin buckley fan
> be lesbian
> project on robin
> look up "internalized homophobia robin buckley" on tumblr because it's cathartic
> 3/4 of the posts are about st3ddie or just about steve
#saw one in which steve was like ''no robin you don't understand! i have never been loved! i don't know how that feels like!''#i have several grips about that interpretation#going from the fact that's not true (dustin is clearly a big steve fan + robin herself cares about him deeply)#to the fact he probably wouldn't be introspective enough to voice his emotions this concisely not to mention he'd probably wouldn't take#a moment to realize he's never felt loved if that were the case. i mean. he could think that. when he's like 35 and more in touch with his#inner world. 19yo steve can't even get the hint that hitting on a girl who's already clearly taken (nancy) is wrong so like i don't expect#him to be that smart#but i can live with people having takes i don't agree with. my opinion doesn't have to be everyone else's opinion if you see steve that way#it fine#what bothered me was the fact he was saying this to a lesbian living in the 80s lmao#who tells him that 1) her whole life has been an error 2) she doesn't think he'd want to be close to her if he truly knew her and 3)#3) is paralyzed by fear of social suicide if she dares believe for even a second that the girl she likes may like her too#like i dont need people to do deep dives into robin lore and quote from memory lines from Surviving Hawkins abt robin feeling like she's#rotten inside. not supposed to have friends. feeling like something is wrong with her and that pushes people away etc etc#the fact that she's a lesbian should tell you enough abt who has the biggest chances of being loved 😭#also bothered me that it showed up when looking up posts abt internalized homophobia because?? where's the internalized homophobia therw#unless it's gay steve feeling bad abt it in an AU (as if canon robin didn't go through it)#like look im not bothered to find steve-centric content in the robin tag cos people are gonna tag her in posts mentioning her.#she's his friend.#but there are barely any posts at all about robin's internalized homophobia. like i saw 2 or 3. compared to all the steve or steddie ones#where's the love for my babygirl 😭😭#anti steddie#not really but y'know i don't wanna bother anyone#edit: the bit about there being like 3 posts on robin w internalized homophobia isn't exactly true. there are a few. but they still feel#drowned in st3ddie posts#like something isn't right here
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