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yawnderu · 10 months ago

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ANGEL — John Price x Reader x Simon Riley

WC: 6,048 | Part I

Deep down, you knew Simon's way of telling you it's over between you was the moment he gave you his captain's number. Every single message you left Simon was left unanswered, not even opened most of the time, leaving you hoping that perhaps he was simply busy with his missions.

His deployments are oftentimes stressful from what you saw every time he came back home to you, yet you stopped convincing yourself everything was alright after 7 weeks of no contact. Simon Riley is not a coward— not unless it comes to feelings. You're too good for someone like him, someone who could drop dead at any moment, whose only achievements come from killing, forever tainting his hands with blood he can't seem to wash off no matter how many long showers he takes.

He rationalized for months, thought about it— thought about leaving you, too. Yet that lost puppy look of pure trust you gave him every single time he fucked into you, pretty moans leaving your parted lips and soft hands exploring his clothed body, desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours, something he never had the heart to give you. Too tainted, too scarred, too ugly. So like a broken man wanting to keep you safe, he did the best with what he had, leaving his captain's number on your night table the moment he was done cumming.

Over 2 months later, Simon still remembers the feeling of your warm skin beneath his lips, the look of pure vulnerability and love plastered on your face, so angelic and pretty, a sheer contrast to the nervousness on his, despite how natural it was to treat you with a tenderness he's never had with anyone in his entire life.

“He fell from a helicopter?” Crinkled eyes meet yours from across the table, taking a sip of his drink before letting out a dry chuckle, nodding his head.

“Aye, hangin' from a bloody rope. Had me scared, thinkin' I lost my Sergeant.” John said with a grin, his gaze softening at the way you were listening so intently, your full attention on him no matter how boring he thought his stories were.

“Is he scared of getting into helicopters again?” You lean a bit closer to him, your chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. From this angle, you're able to admire John's features from up-close. Every single grey hair adorning his beard, his crow's feet, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, the tiny spots on his face, likely gotten from spending a long time under the sun as a soldier from a young age.

“Of course. Took him a while to trust our pilots again, now he always double checks his gear's on right.” Price always pays attention to detail, the way your pupils dilate the longer you stare at him don't go unnoticed in the slightest. He asks a passing waitress for a check, not even giving you a second to offer to pay for your half before his card is already in her hands, going away to charge him for the dinner and drinks.

“And how's… what was his name again? Soap?” He smirks at the mild confusion when using Johnny's callsign, likely assuming it's simply a sex innuendo.

“Soap, yeah. He's a good kid, kind o' like the son I never had.” That gets your attention, looking away for a second to hold back a small smirk before looking back up at him, eyebrows raised.

“You don't have children?” That earns a small chuckle out of him, shaking his head at the question. He gave the waitress a small smile as she came back with his card, pocketing it and getting up from his chair, offering his arm up to you. There's no hesitation as you hook your arm with his, walking to his car.

“Never had girlfriends after joining the SAS. Became a captain at a young age, too.” He looks down at you as you walk, admiring your pretty features, secretly wondering how Simon could have fucked up that badly— how he let such a lovely and sweet girl go. He opens the car door for you, even going as far as to help you put on your seatbelt, letting you have a whiff at his woody cologne, the smell of smoke from cigars mixing in.

“What about you? Any children?” He asks teasingly, shooting you a playful grin before starting the car, blue eyes fully focused on the road. Unlike Simon, Price knows how to drive well, making you feel safe while on the road.

“Hell no. I've been… thinking about it, but men my age were never interested in that.” Even if he was much older, Simon was never even an option. Too emotionally unavailable, too fucked up to even consider having children.

“Part of the reason I like older men.” Your voice is smooth and even, a sheer contrast to the slight knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach, only coming undone when you hear his amused laugh.

Price's calloused palm rests on the gear shift before daring to move it over to your thigh, running up and done slowly, trying to heat up your cold skin rather than doing it to be a pervert, yet your body still reacts to his touch, warmth pooling on your lower stomach.

“Really, sweetheart?” Price isn't stupid in the slightest, yet unlike Simon, his actions aren't malicious. He simply wants to see you squirm, finding pure amusement in the laugh you both share and the playful slap you give to his arm.

“Stop using your charm on me.” You scold jokingly, unable to hide the big grin taking over your pretty face.

“I'm charming now, eh?” His grip tightens on your inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

“According to Simon, you always have.” That makes one of his thick eyebrows raise questioningly, his lips pulling into an amused smile.

“I've known him for a long time, y'know? Back when we I was an LT.” He can't help but allow his mind to go back into the past as he drives, images of the eager Simon Riley, a broken man who simply wanted to change the world, who always helped without even asking for much in return.

“Has be always been… like that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence, allowing yourself to be the cat curiosity killed.

“No.” The Simon Riley he met was not similar to Ghost in the slightest.

“He was 'round 19 when I met him. Better than any recruits I've seen.” Yet still teased by his mates for being an apprentice butcher in the past, for being so rigid and basing his entire life on discipline, unlike the many other young soldiers who have since passed.

“I bet. He has that certain look on him, you know? The eyes. I wouldn't want to mess with him.” Price lets out a dry chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. Part of him is glad that he's been working with Simon because it seems that to know more about you, he needs to know about Simon as well.

“We're here, doll.” He parks the car, getting out of his seat and opening the door for you, his calloused hand resting on your lower back, guiding you to your house. You can feel the warmth from his hand spreading all over your body, soothing rubs up and down your back as you walk.

“Would you like a cuppa?” Mirth dances in his eyes at the audacity, already knowing your intentions, and yet.

“Of course.” Price follows after you, part of him growing excited by whatever you have in mind. Your slightly shaky hands fiddle with the keys before you're able to open the door, secretly thankful that you cleaned up your mess earlier in the day.

“What tea would you like?” You ask, turning around just in time to see Price finishing the once-over he was giving you.

“This isn't about tea, is it, darlin'?” He asks with a knowing smile, his jacket slipping out of his shoulders now that you're both inside the house. Blown pupils stare back at him, taking your time to admire the strong body hugged by his tight black shirt. You can see his bulging muscles, broad shoulders fully relaxed as he steps forward, towering over you. A monument of sorts when you're small.

“If I'm lucky, I hope not.” Your breathy voice was all Price needed as reassurance. His lips crash against yours, warm hands gripping your waist tight enough for you to feel the warmth spreading all over your lower body. The smell and taste of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses, too enthralled by the feeling of his tongue wrapping around yours, a small moan leaving your lips the moment his hand trails down to your ass, groping you with care, as if you're made of glass.

“How far do you wanna go?” His forehead leans against yours as his blown pupils stare back at you, his chest rising up and down with each breath.

“As far as you want to.” A small yelp leaves your lips when he lifts you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his strong, muscular waist.

“Bedroom's there.” You don't even need to point— Price can see the open door, so enticing and tempting, allowing your small giggle to consume his whole soul like a siren's song. With carefulness that contrasts the brutality he uses as a soldier, Price sets you down in bed, strong arms on each side of your head, caging you in.

Your breaths mingle together as he leans down to kiss you again, warm tongues wrapping around the other, using his knee to spread your legs enough for his burly body to fit, subtly grinding against your clothed cunt.

“Been wantin' to do this for a long while.” Ever since Simon showed him your profile picture on WhatsApp, introducing you as a friend in need. He wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, not with the way his calloused hand rubbed his cock until it almost hurt, using your pretty face as a relief from the stress of war.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” He praised, dragging a giggle out of you the moment his beard started tickling your neck, gentle kisses planted all over your warm, sensitive skin, his tongue darting past his lips to give your neck a tantalizing lick.

He can feel your hands exploring his strong body, his muscles bulging and tensing up beneath your soft palms. He only breaks apart the moment your hands go to the hem of his shirt, helping you pull it off of his body, the piece of clothing discarded on the floor.

“God…” Your whisper holds nothing but pure admiration, catching hints of his strong, muscular body, dark hair covering most of it. Your hand drifts up to his torso, caressing his surprisingly soft skin, not minding the scars you can feel beneath your hand. Price has been shot, stabbed, tortured, left for dead— his body acting as a keepsake of every mission gone wrong.

His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, holding a tenderness unlike a man like him, so naturally gentle and willing to show it without the walls guarding his heart— unlike Simon. His calloused hand rubs your thigh before drifting up to the hem of your blouse, carefully pushing it up and removing it with your help.

“Pretty girl.” His back bends slightly as his gentle lips now go to your bare stomach, planting a rapid-fire of kisses all over the soft skin, descending with each passing second, lifting your skin up to reveal your clothed cunt.

“I'll take care of you.” And he means every single word. Captain Price is a bad man, a bad man with a high kill-count and multiple war crimes to his name, yet John Price is a different story— caring and loving, so willing to fix something he didn't even break.

His eyes close the moment his lips connect to your mound, tongue darting out to get a taste at all he's been craving the moment he saw you. He lets out a small groan as the taste of your slickness overwhelms his senses, his hands roaming up and down your waist, daring to sneak past your bra, finally getting a good feel at your tits.

John is a starved man. A starved man whose only salvation is you, looking so pretty and sweet, panties wet with a mix of his saliva and your own slick. He's careful and gentle, pulling down your panties with both hands and dropping them on the floor, his breath catching in his throat when his gaze drifts down to your pussy, glistening under the light of your bedroom.

He doesn't waste any time, lowering himself again between your legs, licking a trail from your tight hole, to your swollen clit. Your legs try to close out of instinct, a whiny moan making its way out of your lips at the sensation of his beard against your cunt.

“Open your legs, love.” He whispered, running his thumb over your hard bud.

“Let daddy taste you.” He kisses your inner thigh before diving back in, licking and sucking on your clit, trying his best to make you feel good. Your moans are too pretty, your cunt too sweet, and Price can feel himself starting to lose control. His cock throbbed, his own desire growing stronger by the second, focusing solely on your pleasure.

“That's my good girl.” He whispered against your skin, sliding two thick fingers inside you. You're soaking wet yet still so tight, only making his desire grow, desperately needing to be inside you. Your whiny moans fuel him, his warm tongue flickering against your hardened clit faster and faster, mixing in with his sucking, his thick fingers curling inside your needy cunt.

Your hands run through his short hair, pulling at it softly to release some of the pleasure building in, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening up with each lick. Your chest rises up and down with each long, labored breath, muscles tensing up as the knot in your stomach finally comes undone, pushing his face closer to your cunt as his fingers move in and out, dragging out your orgasm.

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, his blue eyes connecting with yours as he licks his fingers clean from your cum, your heart thudding loudly inside your chest.

“Fuck me.” That breathy whisper was all he needed, getting up only to slip out of his pants and boxers, his dick standing proudly. Despite being uncircumcised, you can see his dark pink tip, leaking precum like a broken faucet. Now that he's standing, he takes his time to admire your bare body, his blue eyes going to your tits when you take off your bra.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” The option is always there, and he wants you to know. His knees sink into the mattress as he supports his body on top of yours with one hand, lining his hard cock with your entrance, pausing for a moment.

“Let me love you.” He whispered hoarsely, slipping into you gently despite his primal instincts telling him otherwise. He lets out a loud groan the moment your tight walls grip his throbbing cock, his face finding shelter on the crook of your neck. A small hiss makes its way out of your lips as your legs wrap on his hips, pushing him closer and deeper, allowing him to finally bottom out.

“Bloody hell— you're so tight.” He moans out, his thrusts growing faster as you get used to his thickness. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and adoration, longing dancing within. John's lips part as he feels your long nails dragging down his back, driving him crazy with pure need.

“I'm close.” He whispers out, his hips ramming against you with increasing urgency, reaching out to caress one of your soft tits. He plants open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.

“Cum inside.” John's eyes widen at your words, his dominant nature taking over as his hands go down to grip your hips firmly in place, the overwhelming desire and pleasure clouding his judgement, drowning out any concerns. His thrusts are deep and powerful, making you his with an unyielding force.

As he loses himself in the heat of the moment, John's muscles tense up, the familiar feeling of pure heat pooling up within him, slamming himself as deep inside you as he can before his cock starts throbbing, shooting ropes of cum with each pulse. His breath is heavy as he slowly pulls out of you, his gaze fixated on the mess of mixed fluids that coats your pretty cunt.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers out, burly arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to his hairy chest, allowing you to hear his fast-beating heart. His lips are gentle against your forehead, wanting nothing more than to relax with you after the intense love-making. His actions are nothing short of genuinely caring and loving, wanting to give you good aftercare, all thoughts of Simon finally out of your head.

“Want me to run you a bath?” Price asks in a whisper, planting one last kiss on your forehead before looking down, just to see your chest moving up and down slowly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, pulling you closer to his warm, naked body so you can sleep better, deciding to get some well-deserved rest as well.

The smell of eggs and tea is what you woke up to in the morning, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. The feeling of large fabric keeping your body warm makes you look down, just realizing that John put his large shirt on your body when you were sleeping, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you get up from bed, making your way to the kitchen.

“Good mornin'.” John turns around for a second, blue eyes lighting up when he's greeted by a big smile and his shirt dwarfing your body, giving you a small wink before he's back to finishing your breakfast. You take your time to admire him, so naturally handsome and masculine, his hairy, strong body only having his boxers on.

“Thanks, daddy.” You quip teasingly as he hands you the plate, a small squeal leaving your lips when he starts to chase you around the house, shared laughs ringing around.

Dating John is a sheer contrast to any expectations you had when you first got into the relationship. Despite the fact that he's often away during missions, he has scheduled delivers for flowers and your favorite foods, calling with you the moment he's available.

“What are you doin'?” Price asks with a small smirk, his gaze softening the moment his eyes meet yours, your cheek resting on his strong thigh while he was trying to complete a report. His hand goes to your head out of pure muscle memory, giving your scalp a soft massage.

“I like you from this angle.” He lets out a small chuckle, moving his leg to make your position more comfortable as you nuzzle his leg, your chin now resting on it as you adjust your knees on the floor.

“You like me in every angle.” A grin spreads on his face, his calloused hand running down the length of your hair before resting on your back, massaging the muscles tenderly.

“True, but specially from this one.” The cheeky smile you throw his way does nothing other than to distract him further from his report of the latest mission, cupping your cheek to examine your pretty features better under the light of the room, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

“You're clingier than my shadow.” He teases, leaning forward until his lips meet yours in an affectionate kiss, not bothered by your clinginess in the slightest. He breaks away just to give your forehead a tender kiss, staring down at you lovingly. The look of pure trust and love your eyes hold drags him back to one of the many late night conversations with Simon back at base.

“Y'like her?” Simon finally dares to ask, ignoring the growing pain on his lower stomach at the idea of you dating John, even if it was Simon's idea.

“Do you?” Price quips, already knowing the reply. There's been more than one occasion where he saw Simon stare at your WhatsApp profile picture, even if your number was deleted— he still keeps your messages, using it as an odd way of finding comfort despite the growing self-loathing from hurting you.

“You know I don't do that.” There's hints of regret spilling along Simon's deep voice, his bare fingers drumming on the cup of tea on his hand.

“Do what?” He already knows the answer, and yet.

“Love. 'M gonna get the poor girl killed.” Memories of Christmas haunt him even years later, his mind momentarily taken back to coming home just to find his entire family dead. All that blood, yet all his shattered mind was able to do was laugh even as he held a gun to his mouth.

“She'll be fine, Simon. The girl knows how to handle herself. Hell, I'm getting her a better security system soon, too.” Despite being in a committed relationship with you, John knows Simon well enough to know he still likes you, in his own way. He's seen Simon break down, seen the worst and the best of him, and eventually got to see the way he built himself back up, coming back to the SAS as Ghost.

“Wha'? You want me to date her, too?” Even if he asked it as a joke, Price's silence and the subtle shrug of his shoulders speaks louder than words.

“I know what you've been through, son. Think about it, you mean a lot to the bird.” John empties the rest of his tea down the sink, giving Simon one last pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I'll go get it.” John is brought back to reality with the soft knocks on the entrance door, tilting his head up as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You make your way up to the door, your heart beating inside your chest when you look through the peephole, a familiar pair of dead brown eyes staring back. There's slight hesitation as your hand goes to the doorknob, resting there for a few seconds before you decide to open the door.

“Simon?” Despite the dark hoodie over his head, you can tell he hasn't been doing well, his skin looking more pale than usual, dark eyebags making him resemble more a raccoon than a man.

“'M sorry.” He mutters, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, lowering his gaze with nothing but pure shame.

“That's it?” Your guarded tone makes a part of him feel proud that you're not a doormat anymore.

“No. I'm sorry for… ignoring you, and for being a cunt.” His gaze finally meets yours. You can see the shame, the regret, and the pain.

“I was scared.” I wish I could tell you I survive out there because I don't want to leave you yet. Your lips part, though you decide to be quiet for now.

“I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you why this shite happened.” Despite the way his hands are fidgeting inside his pockets, he's trying his best to be as honest as possible while avoiding dumping his trauma on you.

“That's bollocks, mate.” Price's voice almost scares the soul out of you, turning around to shoot him an exasperated look. For a man his size, he moves with surprising quietness. You can feel his burly arms wrap around your lower body, bringing you closer to him.

“Give 'er a proper apology.” Despite the hesitation Simon feels, the space Price left open for him is all he needs. You can feel another pair of arms wrapping around your body, the familiar scent of cheap fags and gun powder hitting your nose, bringing you back to all those nights you shared.

It's an awkward hug, a mess of limbs and warmth that you finally decide to take in, your arms wrapping around Simon's narrow waist, bringing his body closer to you despite the way his muscles tense up at the sudden contact. You can feel him relax with your touch, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“'M sorry.” He repeats in a whisper, his cold face finding shelter on the warm crook of your neck, the urge to kiss you again growing stronger by the second, though he remains respectful. You can feel John's cock starting to harden against your ass, making you look up and give him a confused look. His hand goes up to grip your jaw softly, his lips crashing against yours as he starts to subtly grind against you, only making the confusion grow.

Simon's hold on your body tightens, the familiar sensation of his lips against your neck drags a small moan out of you, muffled in John's mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, your breathing growing more labored by the second, soft hands curling on Simon's muscular back, barely able to hear the door closing until you decide to break away from the kisses.

“What's going on?” The nervous laugh that leaves your lips is only met by a reassuring look coming from Price, his calloused hand running up and down your side.

“Part o' the apology you deserve, love.” You don't even have time to answer— not when Simon's rough lips meet yours, the kiss nothing but a pure display of love and affection. Even a ghost can be a lovely thing when you want it to be.

You can feel John's calloused hands drift down to the pajama shorts you're wearing, sneaking a few squeezes on your ass before his hand sneaks past your panties, using two of his fingers to feel your wet cunt, spreading your slick all over. His lips are now busy on your pretty neck, licking and sucking freely, not caring about any love bites he leaves— he knows you don't mind either.

You can hear his hard breathing against your tender skin, your tongue dancing with Simon's, hands desperately sneaking under his shirt, groping his hard, defined muscles. You can feel the bulging scar on his ribs, caressing it with extra care just to show him every single part of his heavily scarred body is loved.

“I missed you.” Simon breaks away from the kiss only to whisper that in your ear, his rough hand already going up to your tit, squeezing the soft fat while all you can do is moan, the combined sensations of the strong men touching you does nothing but drive you closer to the edge, your wet walls tightening around John's fingers, forcing you to squeeze Simon's bicep to release some of the tension.

“Fuck, daddy—” Simon's breath hitches at your words despite knowing you're talking to John, his own cock throbbing at the slight whine in your tone. His hands go to your waist, holding you up as your eyes finally shut, your forehead resting on Simon's chest as John's fingers move faster and deeper inside you, lazily rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees start to buck, more whiny and louder moans leaving your lips as you cum all over his fingers, nails digging into Simon's arm.

“That's a good girl.” Price praises in a breathy whisper, delicately pulling his fingers out of your pulsating cunt, taking a second to admire the way his fingers glisten with your slick.

“Taste her.” Simon is a man with no shame. No shame at all, making eye contact with you as he starts to suck his captain's fingers, putting them in his mouth just to taste more of your sweet slick. The hungry wolf is reduced to a starving dog, a small groan leaving his lips the moment your taste is all over his tongue.

He pulls John's fingers out of his mouth once he finishes licking them clean, your mouth opening ajar when Simon's lips crash against his, your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you watch them kiss. You can see their tongues dancing together, sharing your sweet taste in a passionate kiss, Simon's grip tightening around your waist.

They break away after a few seconds, looking up just to be met by Simon's cheeky smirk. He pushes you further into the house, fingers intertwining with yours as he walks into the bedroom like he owns the place, yet in reality, it's simply something he's done way more times than he can count.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” His hold is all but gentle as he lays down in bed, pulling you on his lap, allowing you to feel the way his hard cock bulges on his jeans, calloused hands going to your ass to make you grind against him, whiny moans leaving your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt.

You can hear a zipper going down behind you, only making the excitement grow at the idea of seeing your boyfriend's bare body again— no matter how many times you've seen it already. Price's knees sink on the mattress, burly arms wrapping around your waist, grabbing one of your hands just to guide it to his hard cock. Your hands wrap around it, starting to rub him up and down slowly until his fingers join yours, speeding up the movement.

“Tell me you wanna fuck him.” His voice is a whispered command, a dominance you've never heard before— and one Simon has heard too many times during missions.

“I wanna fuck Simon.” You confess, your back pressing against John's strong, hairy chest as you jack him off, your soft palm rubbing against his sensitive tip, dragging a small grunt out of him as you smear his precum all over his throbbing cock. His free hand goes to your back, pushing you down against Simon as you let go of his cock with a small whine of protest.

Simon is desperate and needy— that much you can tell by the way he removes his clothes with an eagerness you've never seen before. You take your time to admire his strong body, pale skin tattered by scars, yet looking so alluring. You adjust your position as he tries to remove his pants, exchanging a small laugh at the awkward position you're in.

He looks more relaxed and honest than you've ever seen, his eyes crinkling as you're getting your shorts and panties pulled down by Price, finally resting your naked body on top of his. It's a new change of pace for both of you— Simon doesn't like to give up control, doesn't enjoy being dominated, it's too personal and vulnerable, yet for you? He's willing to try anything.

“Show him how you much you missed him.” John's soft command makes you nod your head, looking over your shoulder just to feel his lips against your back, his hand coming up to your jaw to turn your face back to Simon. Simon's calloused hand goes down to his throbbing, veiny cock, waiting until you lift your hips up to line himself up to your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as your tight walls wrap around him, your back arching once he bottoms out.

“Fuck, Simon…” Your face rests against the crook of his neck, planting kisses all over his warm skin as he starts to fuck into you, the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and needy moans filling the room.

Simon's eyes are closed, fully taking in the sensation of finally having your naked body on his after so many months apart. His hands explore your body with familiarity, bringing one of your hands up to his face to make you cup his cheek, gentle kisses planted over and over on your thumb.

You're too far gone to notice John coming up from behind you, keeping you against Simon's body while his free hand rubs the lube all over his veiny cock, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at how much you're both enjoying each other. You're dragged back to reality when you feel his tip pressing against your tight cunt, already full with Simon's cock.

“It's not going to—” Price pacifies you with another kiss on your bare, sweaty back, slowly pushing in.

“I'll make it fit.” He reassures, a deep moan leaving his lips once he manages to slip his thick tip inside you, giving you time to adjust to the sensation before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside you, pausing once he bottoms out to give you a well-deserved break.

“Fuckin' hell.” Simon groans out, his face scrunching up at how much tighter your cunt feels now that you have two cocks inside you. His short nails lightly dig into your skin, already feeling so close to the edge despite the fact you're just getting started.

You let out a short exhale once they both start moving, cocks rubbing together inside your tight walls, the sensation of being stretched this much starting to feel better by the second, every single nerve inside your cunt being stimulated. You pull Simon for another kiss, feeling his hand coming up to the back of your head just to pull you closer, wanting to feel more of your tiny tongue licking his.

You're a mess of limbs— sweaty bodies colliding, feeling their muscles tightening up around your soft, smaller body. Simon's moans are muffled by your lips, not letting you pull away from the kiss in slight embarrassment at letting you hear the neediness seeping out of his tone.

Their hips move in a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, forcing your back to arch, only giving them a better angle to fuck into you. Price's hands go up to your soft tits, squeezing and groping as he moves faster and deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.

“I'm… I'm gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans, muffled once again by Simon's rough lips. The overwhelming sensations build within you, the familiar sensation of your muscles tensing up and fingers tingling starts to grow stronger by the second, the intensity of your connection with both men driving you over the edge.

The sensation of one of their cocks hitting your cervix over and over makes you whine softly, muscles tensing up as they sandwich your bodies between them, finally letting go, your orgasm washing over you as your walls wrap tighter around their cocks, your fingers digging into Simon's skin. It doesn't take long for them to follow after you, fucking into you as deep as they can as they release a thick load into you, cocks pulsating with each rope they shoot.

They remain buried inside you for a moment, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. Price is the first one to pull out, watching as their combined cum seeps out of your spent pussy before he lays down next to Simon, your warm body being pulled to the side as Simon lays on his side, his cock still buried inside you even while he's softening.

“I love you.” He finally confesses, tired eyes meeting yours for a second before shutting again as Price embraces you from behind. Your leg is resting over Simon's body, making the position a lot more comfortable as you bring his face closer to your chest.

“I love you too. Both of you.” You whisper, tiredness slowly taking over your body, not even realizing that Simon is already asleep, his face buried on your soft tits. Price lets out a small chuckle, planting gentle kisses all over your warm back, his hands lightly gripping your stomach as a way to let you know he loves you, too.

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lotussimscc · 2 months ago

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My Favorite Downloadable Sim Creators!

If you are anything like me, you end up putting a lot of effort into your main character sim, but don't really have the energy to create the rest of the town. The townies the game creates just don't fit the world you created in your head, so you end up disappointed. Well, a great solution is downloading other people's amazing sims and using MCCC to populate them in your town! No more random ugly townies, now you have pretty people with their own stories! Here is my list of favorite sim creators (in no particular order) and a brief description about what they make:

@wildfairies (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. Makes a nice blend of regular and occult sims. They all look unique and pretty without being too overly detailed or distracting while playing! Most available sims have one outfit each.

@sunnyssimming (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Mix, CC-mid. Makes gorgeous female sims (and one guy). She makes mostly Maxis-Match, but some hair or makeup might dip into the alpha category. Available sims have one outfit each.

@m0ckest (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Free (she has a page with default replacements she uses if you want the sims to look one-to-one). She releases townie makeovers, brand-new sims, and lots. I'm honestly pretty impressed with how good her sims look without using CC!

@pearlean (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match/Custom Art Style, CC-Mid/Heavy. She has her own art style which I would say is closest to something like Telltale's Walking Dead game, which is aided by her beautiful GShade preset. Some base sims and some with one outfit.

@nikatyler (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Lite. If you want a full catalog of available sims, you'll want to check her out (seriously, 29 pages of Sims 4 downloads alone, and she has stuff for Sims 3 as well). She has townie makeovers, brand-new sims, lots, and a good mix of regular and occult sims! Most downloads have all outfits included.

@seyvia (Tag) - Maxis-Mix, CC-Mid/Heavy. She has a more cartoony art style with large eyes and expressive faces, which is right up my alley! She has also remade the Stardew Valley bachelors/bachelorettes and even has some CC-Free downloads. Downloads have all outfits included.

@puppycheesecake (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. They have some really creative ideas for sims, with a lot of horror/occult/fantasy-inspired ones (although there are plenty of regular sims, too!) Some downloads have all outfits, some have one, but it is labelled which is which on each sim.

@youngcozyboy (Tag) - Maxis-Mix/Alpha, CC-Heavy. Anime/cartoon-influenced, with some more NSFW downloads/pictures sprinkled in there. They have a large catalog of downloads/townie makeovers and plenty of fantasy-inspired sims (which is something I always love to see). They are Korean, so you'll have to rename the sims once you've downloaded them if you don't speak it, but that isn't a big deal. Also, their screenshots are so expressive and pretty, it really captures each sim's personality! Most sims have one outfit included.

@ladychaos (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Lite/Free. She has her own save file that you can download and use, but she also posts everything to the gallery and her Patreon! Her lots and households all have a cozy look/feel to them and have their own stories to tell. I particular love her Strangerville ones! All downloads have all outfits included.

@bansheeso (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match/Mix, CC-Mid. If you are looking for some pretty occult boys (and one girl), then she is the person to go to. I love populating my town with some occult/fantasy sims, so her creations are great for my world! Their household names are in Ukrainian, but that's not a problem since they can easily be renamed. Each download has one outfit.

@fallstaticexit (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. Some nice looking townie makeovers along with some retired sims from their stories. Really solid additions to any world! If you do check her out, be sure to look at her Children of the Forest story, I'm very invested in it! Some come with all their outfits and some come with one.

@acuar-io (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. He makes some great, unique-looking sims and makeovers. No same-face syndrome here, each sim has their own distinct face structure with some wrinkles, moles, and other details that I feel like get overlooked too often to make the most beautiful sim. Unique sims have one outfit and makeovers have all outfits.

@kharssims (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid/High. He focuses on male sims and they look great! The perfect amount of facial details like wrinkles, freckles, and moles to keep them looking unique and like an actual person you could come across. Each download has one outfit.

@thebramblewood (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Lite/Mid. While they may not have a huge catalog, I think that they have a great selection of maxis-match sims, both makeovers and originals, to choose from. My personal favorite of theirs is Bridget Bledsoe from their Occult Sim Dump! Each sim has one outfit.

Some Honorable Mentions!

@occultradio (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. They don't make sim downloads often, but I love the ones they have available so much. Their Mothman is one of my favorite sims in my entire gallery!

@mothelette - They don't have their sims up for download, but I gotta point out the witchcraft they perform to make their beautifully-stylized sims. Their creations are amazing.

@nefarrilou - They don't have their sims up for download, but they do create beautiful lookbooks. Occults, townie makeovers, and recreations of popular characters in media, they'll have something you'll enjoy!

#sim dump #s4 sim dump #s4 sim download #sim download #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4cc #s4cc #sims 4 cc #s4 pretty sims #s4 lookbooks #s4 lookbook #ts4 lookbook #sims 4 lookbook

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citrusipop · 17 days ago

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image captured by hand . cho hyun-ju

hyun-ju catches you glancing at her and back to that little book of yours, curiosity feeds her as she wonders what is inside.

a.n . i am so sorry if it's been awhile since i've written something, writer's block and the fact college season is back is driving me nuts. i hope you enjoy this short little(longish) story!

It was a lazy afternoon in Hyun-Ju’s shared apartment. Her head rested against the warm windowpane as she gazed at the endless blue sky, her thoughts drifting. The gentle breeze carried the sound of children’s laughter below, blending with the melody of seashell chimes swaying nearby.

Across from her, you sat with your sketchbook balanced on your knees, pencil scratching against paper. Your hand moved with quiet determination, stealing glances at your girlfriend as sunlight framed her peaceful beauty. Each glance inspired you to capture her essence, pouring it into your work.

Noticing your looks, Hyun-Ju tilted her head, a curious smile tugging at her lips. “What’re you doing, hun?” she playfully teased, her eyes studying you. Hidden behind the sketchbook, you hummed distractedly, too focused to notice her pout.

“Y/nnnnn,” she whined, leaning in close until her face was near yours.

“Loveeee,” you mimicked her tone, quickly snapping your sketchbook shut. The thought of her seeing your sketches filled you with nervousness—what if she thought it was weird?

Her eyes flicked to the sketchbook. “What’re you drawing?” she asked, her voice warm with curiosity.

“Just… something. Nothing too detailed,” you replied, heart racing as you tried to keep your secret.

Hyun-Ju’s almond-shaped eyes sparkled with interest. “Can I see? I’m sure it’s amazing,” she said warmly.

Her compliment melted your hesitation. You weren’t confident in your art, being self-taught and wary of criticism, but hearing encouragement from someone you loved made you reconsider.

“I don’t know, you might not like it,” you trailed off, your eyes avoiding hers.

“Please love, I want to see…You never show me what’s in that little book of yours.” She pleaded, giving you those irresistible puppy eyes of hers.

God, that adorable look of hers made you want to give in, but those nagging insecurities held you back, hijacking any chance of Hyun-Ju seeing your sketchbook. Your mind turned into a courtroom, arguments flying back and forth as you debated with yourself. Yet, when you glanced at her again, the genuine curiosity in her eyes was impossible to ignore. She truly cared about what you were creating.

And so, you gave in.

With a sigh, you hesitantly handed her the light orange book. As her hands brushed yours, taking the sketchbook, it felt like you’d handed over a piece of your soul. The weight of it left your hands, but the anxiety remained. You quickly averted your gaze as she opened it, your heart pounding in your chest.

You prayed she wouldn’t say anything mean, regretting your decision almost immediately. The silence was unbearable, every second stretching endlessly. Your mind spiraled, conjuring the worst scenarios. What if she hated it? What if she thought your art was ugly? Doubts clashed in your head, each one louder than the last, waging a war you couldn’t escape.

All your worries drifted away when she say, “Love, you never told me you can draw this….it’s amazing!” Hyun-ju’s eyes gleamed with stars as she flipped through more of your artworks. “How are you so talented? Your sketches are so well detailed and clean!” Her eyes gleamed with astonishment. She was utterly speechless, no words could form as she was so enthralled by the beauty of the images you drew. You. Her girlfriend, an amazing artist. In her mind such talent is worth sharing.

“How could you hide this talent of yours?”

“I just don’t see the point of showing it to others….”

Hearing your words, Hyun-Ju rolled her eyes playfully and pinched your cheek lightly. “It’s worth showing it to me,” she insisted, emphasizing the “me” with a teasing smile as she continued flipping through the pages.

Her fingers paused on a bookmarked page, and her eyes widened when she saw it—a drawing of herself. A bright smile spread across her face as she admired the intricate details. You had captured her perfectly, from the curve of her smile to the sparkle in her eyes. Most of the sketches showed her smiling, and she couldn’t help but feel warmth bloom in her chest.

Laying her head on your crossed leg, she lifted the sketchbook to show you the drawing, her expression filled with pride and affection.

You felt your heart swell and your confidence grow from her praise. Never in your life had anyone shown such genuine love for your work, and it filled you with a newfound motivation to keep drawing. Smiling softly, you ran your fingers through her hair as she pointed out more sketches, her voice laced with admiration.

Looking up at you, Hyun-Ju smirked mischievously. “You should draw Jeong-Hyeok and give it to me,” she teased, pointing at a blank page with a playful finger.

“No,” you replied firmly, shaking your head.

“But love, please? You have the power to draw anything,” she pleaded, her tone both sweet and dramatic, making you roll your eyes and chuckle at her antics.

#cho hyun ju #cho hyun-ju #cho hyunju #cho hyun ju x reader #cho hyunju x reader #cho hyun-ju x reader #hyun ju #hyun ju x reader #hyun-ju x reader #hyunju #player 120 #squid game cho hyunju #squid game hyun ju #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game netflix #player 120 x reader #squid game player 120

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tarisbackyard · 9 months ago

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Here's how to write an authentic Grimm style fairytale, brought to you by a Certified German TM:

Forget everything Disney movies taught you, besides maybe Snowwhite, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. But even those are on thin fucking ice. Also ignore modern fantasy literature conventions, especially Dungeons & Dragons type stuff.

Ideally only the protagonist or none of the characters ought to have names. And the names should either be really fucking ordinary, or some kind of epithet. Like, either that's a Franz or a Bramblesock, cause when Bramblesock was a child he lost a sock in a shrub of brambles. Everyone else is either the king, the grandma, or the carpenter.

The common types of protagonist: Regular working class guy who cons his way into a life of riches, poor downtrodden peasant who through hardworking kindness is granted salvation (usually via gaining riches), too pure too good for this world princess who can't catch a fucking break, too nasty too bratty for this world princess who gets taught a lesson in humility.

The characters are generally very one note and the only kind of character growth they can experience boils down to "maybe I shouldn't have been a dick, huh?"

The location is either as vague as possible or super fucking specific for no reason; either the story takes place literally nowhere or in the town of Buxtehude.

Animals and inanimate objects that can talk for no apparent reason and no one bats an eye at are always a great addition.

If you want to add any fantasy races, use giants (large, dumb brutes), dwarves (angry little guys who live in the wilderness and get really angry if you touch their beards), or gnomes (mischievous house spirits who might be helpful but watch out!), but never more than one of these. Fairies are rare and usually the "tall beautiful wise woman" type, not the small annoying pixie type. Dragons are very pointedly no-where to be found, those distinctly belong in sagas, which are their own distinct type of literature.

Weird moral of the story that either boils down to "be smarter than all the other fuckers", "good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people", or "don't upset the supernatural".

Random tidbits of gore that no one bats an eye at.

Witches eat children, if a mother gets more than single line dedicated to her she's evil, fathers are spineless and/or assholes who either die or come around in the end.

Ugly means evil, pretty means good. Except when it doesn't.

Optional: Repeated rhyming phrases and numbers. Seventh son of a seventh son kinda stuff. The numbers 3, 7, 12, and 13 in particular.

Ideally a 19th century scholar should be able to read some clumsy Germanic pagan wishful thinking into the story, no matter how big and obvious the Christian overtones are.

Optional: Start the story with "Once upon a time" and end it with "And if they didn't die, then they are still alive today."

#writing #fairy tales #fairytales #grimm's fairy tales #gebrüder grimm #brothers grimm #german stuff #writing advice

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always-a-king-or-queen · 1 year ago

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C 👏 S 👏 LEWIS 👏 WAS 👏 NOT 👏 MISOGYNISTIC

IM SO SICK OF THIS TAKE

“But he said girls shouldn’t fight in battles—" No, actually. What he said was “Battles are ugly when women fight.” Which literally translates to “in a war where women are required to fight to help win it, it means the war itself is really bad.” And this literally just means that the war has gotten so bad that women have to fight, not that women shouldn’t fight. Just that they shouldn’t be forced to. Anyway, remember Lucy?? Lucy who rode to battle in The Horse and His Boy?? Lucy who fought as an archer?? “But Susan didn’t—" Yeah. Because she didn’t want to. No one was forcing her not to fight. She had free will to fight or to not fight, and she chose not to because she didn’t want to, not because a man made her stay home.

“He punished Susan for growing up—" S i g h. This is the one I see the most often. “He did Susan dirty” “he made her suffer because she liked lipstick” “etc etc blah blah blah” First of all Narnia is a children’s book series. For CS Lewis to delve into why Susan forgot Narnia, talk about her dealing with the death of her entire family, discuss her grief, and write about her eventual return to Narnia (more on that in a second), it would’ve made for a pretty dark and heavy children’s book, and Lewis said that he didn’t think that was something he wanted to write. But he also encouraged people to finish Susan’s story themselves, and said she might eventually make her own way back to Narnia. Not only this, but Susan’s name means lily, and the waters around Aslan’s country are covered in lilies. Coincidence? I think not. I think it symbolizes she was going to go back. (Especially considering I think Lewis was very careful in choosing each of the Pevensie’s names, since they all relate to their character).

Also, Lewis did not condemn Susan simply for growing up and liking makeup and clothing and boys. If so why would he have written about Aravis and Shasta/Cor, or Caspian and Liliandil? Why would he have written about Susan and Lucy being beautiful and having many suitors? So no, he wasn’t condemning her for that, and in fact he wasn’t condemning her at all. It’s extremely probable that her family’s death would have brought Susan back to her senses. Because here’s the thing: she forgot. She threw herself so much into the world and approval and convinced herself that her life as a queen and her acquaintance with Aslan was all a silly game they played as children, that it wasn’t real. But, she very well could remember again, and I 1000% believe she did.

“All his female characters were weak and did nothing—" My friend. Lucy Pevensie was a female. She discovered Narnia. It was because of her. Her siblings would never have found it without her. Lucy is one of THE most important characters in the entire series. And her title? The Valiant. Lucy’s very title as queen denoted her bravery and fortitude without one even knowing her. As for Susan, she was not any weaker for being “The Gentle.” I would say gentleness is honestly one of the strongest traits a person can have, because it takes a lot to live and be gentle. Also remember Aravis? A major character in The Horse and His Boy and future wife of Shasta, Aravis literally nearly killed herself to escape an arranged marriage. She was not someone to be dictated to; she made her own choices and escaped rather than submitting. And in the end, she’s still fiery, just a little more humble and with less of a chip on her shoulder. Then there’s Polly, who is the more logical person in The Magician’s Nephew and tries to stop Digory from ringing the bell that wakes the White Witch. A boy causes her to awaken, not a girl. It was Digory’s fault she woke up, not Polly’s!!

Also, Peter and Edmund do not ignore their sisters because they’re girls. They listen to what they have to say and speak to them as equals. They don’t forbid them from fighting; Susan chooses not to, but Lucy goes straight into the heart of the battle with them! So don’t even say Lewis made his female characters weak. They were the backbone of much of the series and without them much of the plot would never have happened!!

So don’t you ever say to me that CS Lewis was misogynistic because it’s the furthest thing from the truth

#I REALIZED I ACCIDENTALLY TYPED JILL INSTEAD OF POLLY #IF YOU SEE THAT PRETEND IT SAYS POLLY #cs Lewis #narnia #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #Polly plummer #aravis tarkheena #the chronicles of narnia #I could’ve mentioned Jill but it was long enough #ramblings from the void #I can’t believe I have to say this but some of y’all in the comments did not read the post

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bloody-suburbs · 10 months ago

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#beautiful stories for ugly children #piranha press #comic books

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kirain · 8 months ago

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Sigh....Galemancers really love to move the goal post when it comes to the grooming accusations huh? You found out Gale was a fully grown MAN when Mystra slept with him so now you have to say, "Well then he was emotionally groomed and the power dynamic is too vast." Mystra is a neutral good goddess because she's Midnight, who was a neutral good human. She hates that her magic has to be used for good and evil. Ao makes her share it evenly but she'd rather not. She would never do anything to hurt Gale. The writers of the game even confirmed she's not a groomer. People like you also downplay the point of Gale's entire story arc, which is he should've listened to Mystra! The whole point of his personal quest is he needs to learn to humble himself and listen to his goddess! He has no one to blame for his downfall but himself.

There's no "post" to move, anon. The game and lore give us all the context we need. Grooming doesn't only apply to children, and people have proven right and left that Mystra is terrible at relationships. She's petty and abusive when she isn't obeyed by her partners, and that's been the case with all of her iterations. Even the narrator describes her as a "jealous goddess" when you visit her shrine. Plus, your information is wrong on many accounts; the most pertinent being that the Mystra of BG3/5E isn't technically Midnight. Cyric and Shar killed her, reducing her to her godly essence (lore-wise that means she died). The current Mystra is an amalgamation of the vestiges of Mystryl, Mystra, and Midnight, as told in the novel Elminster Enraged.

Now, this is about to get complicated, as it always does with Mystra, so from here on out I'll be referring to Mystra #1 as Mystryl, Mystra #2 as Mystra #2, Mystra #3 as Midnight, and Mystra #4 as 5E Mystra. Alright, let's get started.

Elminster had to reform the fallen goddess by giving her fragments of all three iterations of Mystra. Since all three iterations are combined, our current 5E Mystra embodies the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. There's even a conversation with The Simbul (one of the Seven Sisters and a Chosen of Mystra) where the newly reformed 5E Mystra speaks of Elminster as her "longest lover". This puzzles The Simbul because that was something of the old Mystra (Mystra #2), not Midnight. The new 5E Mystra replies that she has become a combination of the memories of Mystryl, Mystra #2, and Midnight. This is all in chapter 25-30 of Elminster Enraged. I know it's confusing, but in short: 5E Mystra is not Midnight anymore, and the leading mind is clearly that of Mystra #2, hence her extremely poor judgement—a recurring theme with her character.

Mystryl and Mystra #2 were originally lawful neutral. The alignment changed to neutral good when Midnight took up the mantle, because Midnight herself was a neutral good person. But now it seems 5E Mystra is true neutral, because you are right, anon; Ao won't allow her to do whatever she wants. Midnight tried and was forbidden. 5E Mystra absolutely does not have the same level of humanity or kindness as Midnight, and that may be because Mystryl had no human consciousness and Mystra #2 was a mess.

Regardless of her alignment, she must embody her domain by Ao's decree, which means she needs to spread magic across all Realmspace. Since she has to maintain the balance, she approaches good, neutral, and evil mages with potential opportunities. This isn't a criticism (that's just how godhood works), but rather proof that Mystra is absolutely capable of good and bad. I don't want to hear any more of this "she's a precious little bean and Gale's victim" nonsense. Even if she wants to be, she's not. As Kikitakite said in their post, she's done some fucked up things.

Whether or not the writers intended to make Mystra a groomer, that's exactly what they did. Sometimes writers don't realise they've written an abusive character until they're criticised. Take writer of The Notebook, Nicholas Sparks, for example. He didn't realise he'd written Noah to be an abusive piece of shit until Ryan Gosling pointed it out himself. Gosling has gone on record many times to say he hates Noah, and experts have labeled him an unrealistic and emotionally abusive/manipulative character. The same can be said for Stephenie Meyer, who wrote some of the most celebrated toxic relationships in recent media—with a dash of borderline pedophilia on the side. Therapists have weighed in extensively to tell people that Bella and Edward's relationship isn't healthy and shouldn't be emulated in real life. Indeed, perhaps the best thing to come out of the entire franchise is Robert Pattinson's hatred of Edward and the series as a whole. Jacob's actor, Taylor Lautner, even argued with Meyer's on set because of how weird the "imprinting" segment was and he didn't want to come off as predatory. Meyer argued it was "romantic". 😕

Even if you don't agree Gale was groomed, Mystra is flagrantly responsible for his insecurities and she never should've put her hands on him. The power dynamic is too vast, and even god Gale (conceited as he is) realises it by the end. He only stays in a relationship with Tav if they allow him to ascend them alongside him as his equal. He recognises that anything else would be unhealthy and unacceptable. Also, I researched high and low regarding your claim, but none of the devs have dispelled the idea that Mystra is a groomer. In fact, the most I could find was one dev simply saying, "To Gale it was love, but he didn't know any better." If anything, that only confirms he was confused and didn't know what to do. Their "relationship" was a stunningly horrible idea from the start and that's not on Gale, it's on the literal cosmic being who initiated it.

Moreover, Gale was very likely 17 when Mystra revealed herself to him. This perfectly fits into the 5E Forgotten Realms timeline. If so, no, he absolutely wasn't a grown man. He was a teenager. Mystra may not have slept with him until he was in his 20's, but that still makes it a disgusting teacher-turned-lover situation. Gale even tells us he was "young" when she took him into her fold, and he was only eight years old when Elminster started their lessons. Remember, Elminster is Mystra's biggest apologist. He would've taught Gale to revere her, which means there was almost never a point in his life when Mystra wasn't the main focus. You can tell by the way he speaks about her in Act 1. He's in awe, he's excited, he's proud she chose him. That does something to a child. Something irreversible. If anything, Elminster is complicit in what happened. I've said this before, but he couldn't even be bothered to visit Gale himself. He sent a simulacrum.

As for your accusation that I'm "downplaying" Gale's story arc—you're damn right I am, because the writers made me! Most D&D players I know aren't very happy with how Mystra is portrayed in the game, and that's probably because even they know she isn't presented in a very flattering light. If you really think about it, it's obvious what the writers were going for, but they failed. For example, you said Gale should've listened to Mystra, right? Well, in Act 1 he admits his ambition was his undoing, blames himself for his downfall, and by Act 2 he's literally ready to off himself for her. In fact, he's the only one who sees her ultimatum as justified. Every other companion says she's being cruel and unreasonable. If Gale actually blows himself up at the end of Act 2, the results are catastrophic. The brain is destroyed, yes, but the tadpoles, free of the Absolute's control, complete their transformation and infect/enslave the entire Sword Coast. Anon. She. Is. Stupid. Even the Narrator is like, "You wanna ... you wanna try that again?"

The entirety of Act 2 is Gale learning he shouldn't listen to Mystra. And then she has the audacity to lecture him in Act 3? If he'd listened, it would've been the end of everything. Maybe if Mystra was as infallible as she pretends to be, she would've put her three brains together and came up with a better, less vindictive plan. Because make no mistake, she wanted Gale to blow up in Act 2, which is ridiculous. I know this is an uncomfortable topic for some people, but gods aren't perfect, especially in fiction. They're flawed. They're selfish. Some of them are straight up assholes. The real irony of Gale's arc isn't that he has no one to blame but himself, it's that Mystra should blame herself. At no point does she even consider if she's being unreasonable or unfair. There's no self reflection whatsoever. And the writers expect me to think Gale's full of himself? I wonder where he got it.

Probably from his teacher. ✋🎤

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 mystra #mystra #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #elminster #bg3 tav #lore #twilight

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b3ach-bunn7 · 3 months ago

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FORWARDS BECKON REBOUND PT2

You learn to live without Dabi, and he learns he can’t live without you

nsfw, smut (u can lowkey skip it, it’s right at the end), angst with happy ending, Villan!Dabi

—————————————————————————

You don’t know what you were expecting.

He’s a villain. A villain who kills and burns people alive, who’s looked death in the eyes enough to know him by name. He was cruel and he was calculated. He works for the biggest villains in the country, the ones you’ve seen targeting children, quirkless people like you.

And you think you love him.

You think you love him and you miss him. So much more than you thought you would’ve. You’d had hope, that first morning when you’d woken up and seen that he was gone, that he’d come back. It was the first time he’d left the house since you’d found him, and you thought that maybe he just wanted fresh air. To go outside. You ignored the voice in the back of your head that told you otherwise, and you held out hope.

But then a day passed. And another, and another, and soon you lost track of how long it had been. You had to bite the bullet. Pack up the clothes you’d bought him and shove them in a box deep in your closet. The sight of the couch in the middle of your living room was too painful of a reminder, so you put it on Craigslist, and despite the stains and the ugly pattern, someone buys it. You buy an equally cheaper and uglier one, and bite back tears as you push it into place. As quickly as he’d entered your life, Dabi was gone.

You don’t know if you should allow yourself to mourn him. You don’t even know what it is you’re mourning. A lover? A roommate? A friend? A boyfriend? You hadn’t even kissed, barely gotten closer than falling asleep on his shoulder, sitting little too close to him on the couch.

You spend your days trying to forget. You call your friends. You pick up a few extra shifts at work, tend to your ruined flowerbed. Despite all the extra work you give yourself, trying your hardest to tire yourself out, you still can’t get to sleep at night. You toss and turn and think of him. It oddly reminds you of his first few nights here. You’d been convinced he’d come and kill you in the night and you’d made sure to lock your door before you slept. Now, you sort of wish he did kill you. Or at least do something horrible so you wouldn't miss him so much.

You don’t even know why you did it. The smart thing to do would’ve been to just call the authorities, but part of you knew calling the police and the ambulance would cause too much drama. You know where you live. Cheap and affordable places are never going to be in good neighbourhoods. You’ve seen the types of people that lurk around at night. You can only imagine the reaction of those living around you if you brought police to their front door, the news channels aching for a story on one of the most infamous villains almost dead on some random lady’s door.

So you took him in. Like a stray. You sewed him up and did what you could to stop the bleeding. You apologised to a man who couldn’t hear you as you cut his shirt away, tossing it in your bathtub. He’d mumbled incoherently to you the whole time you’d seen him shut. Something about rain? Rei? You were unsure. His words were slurred, and the grip he had on the hem of your shirt loosened as he lost consciousness bit by bit. When you finally settled him down on your couch, old tarp shoved underneath him, he was out cold.

And then you waited. For him to wake up and kill you, for him to leave. You had no idea. You felt so stupid every time you looked at the sleeping figure on your couch. The marred skin, the staples hastily pressed into his skin. He looked evil. He looked scary. You scrubbed at your carpets and your tiled bathroom floor for what felt like hours to rid them of the red that had seeped into them. Or maybe just for something to do.

And then when he did wake up, and those piercing blue eyes landed on you, you felt your heart drop into your ass. He was beautiful, a fact that annoyed you greatly. The strong lines of muscle, the straight edge of his jaw. His eyes had narrowed at your staring, and you think that was the beginning of the end.

He loves to stare. You learnt that very quickly. Any time you changed his bandages or just walked around the house his eyes were trained onto you. Watched your every move. You felt hunted in your own home, prickling under his undivided attention.

And you don’t know when the lines blurred. When instead of avoiding him in your room you sat on the loveseat next to him. When you started talking. When you learnt his favourite food was soba, that he liked the colour purple. You felt silly asking him such inane questions but what could you do? You wanted to get to know the man living in your home. Dabi was a villain, sure but he hadn’t been very villainous towards you. Granted, he did threaten to kill you every other sentence but you were almost completely positive he was joking.

And you got closer. He opened up little by little. Stopped staring at you all the time. You took that as a sign of trust. You dutifully cared for the stab wound on his chest, and he got bolder.

That was around the time he started flirting with you. Well, he had been flirting from the start, but this was less minor sexual harassment and more actual flirting. Calling you pretty, complimenting the stuff you wore. Kept calling you baby despite you reminding him of your name every time. You ignored the feeling in your stomach at the grin that stretched over his face whenever you flushed red. The fact he was always fucking shirtless. It makes sense he’s well built, what with all the villanous fighting and all. But god, if you can’t stop staring.

Dabi calls you brave. You don’t think you’re brave, you think you’re stupid. You’re stupid to start sitting right next to him. To feel the warmth radiating off his body as he leans his arms on the couch behind you, as he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re reading.

You watch him grow more comfortable in your home. He stops looking so on edge all the time, relaxes. You get used to the sight of him lounging in your home every time you come home from work.

Dabi starts doing little things. You come home and find the dishwasher empty. He’s learnt where you keep your dishes and your cups. He watches you cook. Pesters you until you let him lick the batter off your spatula. It feels so horribly domestic it makes your stomach turn.

And you ignore the thoughts you have that stop being about roommates and delve into something more dangerous. You don’t miss the way Dabi’s eyes linger on your body, the set in his jaw as you complain about a flirty coworker. You think you’re seeing things, but then your mind drifts to that night at the window. The last time you saw him.

He’d looked so perfect. The two of you soft and ready to sleep. It had been early, early enough that the sleep niggled in the back of your mind, loosened your tongue. He leant against the window and his biceps curled as he leant forward to put out his cigarette, flicking it on the floor. You tut, and he grabbed another while assuring you littering is not the worst crime he’s committed.

And you knew he could see the disbelief on your face when he called himself ugly. And you barely thought as you call him hot. Hot as fuck, at that. His lips twitched like he was about to smile, instead he brushed you off.

And then you touched him. You couldn’t help yourself. You’d always wondered and now seemed as good a time as any. With you in a shirt that smelled like him, his eyes not leaving yours for longer than a minute. He didn’t stop you, barely tried with a teasing comment you knew held no meaning. You traced his skin like a puzzle, from the rough texture of his scars to the soft skin next to it. He’s told you time and time again he doesn’t feel but he shivered against your touch like he did. And you didn’t need to look at him to know he was looking at you so intensely you felt his gaze down to the bottom of your feet.

And you chest tightened as he let you. He let you touch him, and it didn’t feel like the times when you’d leant on his arm or bandaged him up. It felt different. It filled you with emotion you can’t describe, and you let it. And when you brushed against his face you saw him breathe. Physically saw his chest heave up as your touch became more insistent. Dabi looked at your lips and you looked at his, wondering what it would feel like to kiss the scarred skin on them.

And then your phone rang, and the moment was shattered. Now, you can’t remember what your mother had wanted, what the call was about.

And when you awoke the next morning, he was gone.

Maybe you pushed too far. Maybe he had business to attend to. You’ll never know, because he never told you. You had no way to contact him and you don’t think you would if you could. The message he was trying to give you was clear.

Your friends invite you to drinks, and you decline. It had been a long day at work, and while you could do with your favourite pink mimosas, you’re tired. The idea of being in a bar right now makes you cringe. So you bid your farewells, and make your way home. You stop to grab a few groceries. It took you a few times to remember you didn’t need two times the amount you usually buy.

You don’t think about Dabi as you walk up your driveway. Not when you look at the newly planted flowers you’d bought at the market. You will never see him again, and it’s a fact you need to learn to live with.

At least, that’s what you think, until you walk into your house to find him sitting on your couch. His leg is jigging impatiently up and down, and he’s wearing the long trench coat you see him in on the news. You stand in the doorway, shopping bags dropping to the floor. The noise pulls him out of whatever stupor he’s in and he turns to you. Eyes travelling up your body before he looks away.

“The lock on your door is shit. Took me less than a minute to pick it.”

You don’t say anything. It’s your turn to just stare at him. His voice sounds exactly the same and yet you feel like you’d forgotten the low drawl he always spoke in.

“You should get that shit changed. It’s a shitty neighbourhood you live in.”

He looks at you again and it seems to wake you up. You grab your bags and take them to the kitchen. You wrap your coat around a chair and sigh, hands rubbing at your face. Your hands shake, and you clench them tightly so he won’t notice. You walk back inside and Dabi is still sitting up. Like he’s scared to let himself relax.

You clear your throat. “Are- Is the wound okay?” You ask, voice quiet.

Dabi looks confused for a second. “Oh. Yeah, s’fine.”

You nod. You haven’t moved from the entryway of the living room.

“The fuck are you standing around for?” Dabi speaks suddenly.

Your eyebrows furrow at the tone of his voice. “Don’t talk to me like that. I don’t know what’s going on right now. Why- Why are you here?”

Dabi fixes you with a pointed look. He doesn’t say anything. You clench your fists tighter. He’s starting to piss you off.

“Well? You can't just, just break into my house whenever you want. I don’t know what you think this is.”

“God, I leave for two weeks and my roommate status is revoked?” He drawls.

“This isn’t funny, Dabi.” You scoff. “I’m not in the mood for your jokes right now.”

“You aren’t?”

“No.” You shake your head. “It’s been two weeks. You just left without saying anything.”

“Did I owe you an explanation?”

Your brows furrow and you scoff. “Well it would’ve been nice, considering you’d been living in my house for two fucking months.”

Dabi just shrugs. And you want to throttle him and hug him and kiss him all at once. Instead, you just stay where you’re standing, crossing your arms. He huffs a laugh at your figure.

“I feel like a school teacher is about to tell me off.”

“Dabi.”

He glances at you quickly then turns away. It’s his turn to clench his fists, and you pale a little at the sight of smoke curling out of them. You take a small step back.

“Are you- You’re not here to-“ You don’t even finish you sentence but he rolls his eyes, frustrated.

“I’m not here to fucking kill you. I would’ve done that a long time ago if I was.”

“Then what? Why are you here, Dabi?”

Dabi goes quiet again and you seethe. He’s not fucking talking. Nothing of meaning, anyway. He’s just looking at you and it's making you more nervous and antsy than you already are.

Just when you’re about to say something else, he rises to his feet. And in a few quick strides, he’s in front of you. You’re not short by any means, but he towers over you, the smell of smoke and cigarettes lingering on his clothes. His hands twitch like he’s about to reach out to you before he decides against it.

“I’m here because I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.” He rasps. Dabi speaks like the words hurt to get out, and he looks anywhere but at your face when he says them.

“I thought leaving would make me forget about you. But I can't. It’s like you fucking haunting me.” He laughs slightly but he looks slightly feral as he does so.

His hands reach up. They grip the edges of your unzipped coat and pull you closer.

“Why are you trying to forget about me?” You mumble.

He shakes his head. Slowly, eyes screwed shut. “Because I know. I know you don’t- You don’t deserve this. You deserve a good man, baby. Not somebody like me.”

You want to tell him that you want him. Not someone else. But you can’t speak. He lets your coat slip down off your shoulders. One hand curls around your waist and the other travels up. Settling on your shoulder, fingers dancing against your pulse.

“And I know that. And yet I can’t keep away.”

“You-“

“I thought about killing you.”

He speaks like he’s talking about the weather. And that should scare you, but his hand is so gentle as it closes around your neck, so tender and you don’t think he could kill you if he tried.

“Coming back and setting this whole place alight with you inside. But that wouldn’t do shit, would it?” You swallow roughly and his hand moves against your throat.

“And then I tried to fuck the thought of you away.” The hand on your waist tightens its grip.

“But that didn’t work either. Every single one of them reminded me of you.”

You shake your head. “You’re an idiot.”

He tilts his head. “Am i?”

“Yes. You don’t get to decide what I deserve and what I don't.” You frown. You reach up and cover the hand on your shoulder with your own.

“If- If I wanna be with you, I’ll be with you. Whether you think I deserve it or not.”

His finger moves against your lips. “You wanna be with a big bad villain?”

You smile slightly. “You’re not very bad to me.”

Dabi sighs, defeated. “You’re so stupid, you know.”

“Yeah, probably.” Your other hand comes up to grip the collar of his jacket.

He breathes heavily. “I don’t do this.”

“That’s okay. We can figure it out. If. If you want to.”

“And what if I don't?”

You shrug. “I don’t think you’d be here if you didn’t.”

Dabi huffs a laugh. “Fuck. You gonna let me kiss you?”

“If I have to.”

And it’s not like how you imagined he’d kiss you. You thought he’d be rough and violent, but he’s so slow as he leans his head down and presses his lips against yours. His eyes flutter shut and yours follow quickly after, hand on his jacket pulling him in closer. And for a moment you think you should feel guilt, some horror that a murderer is kissing you so softly, but he sighs into your mouth and you don’t think you could care if you tried.

His hand curls inside your hair, tugging your head back to give him better access. He crowds over you, and the hand on your waist is hot as he starts moving with more purpose. He licks against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. His tongue tease over yours, and you feel the cool metal of a piercing and you whine, hands pulling him closer.

Your noise seems to awaken something in him. Because suddenly he isn’t being soft and gentle, and he pushes you back until you hit the door of your kitchen, and he’s on you. Hands lifting up your shirt, mouth pressuring hot, heavy kisses on your mouth, your neck. He bites hard and you wince, but he just grins at you.

“Don’t give me that face, you love it. Take this off for me.”

He pulls the straps off your bra as you reach behind you and unclip it clumsily. Dabi looks at you like he’s got stars in his eyes. He takes too long to travel the expanse of your neck, your collarbones. He takes his time before he reaches your chest, sucking marks into your breasts, and you moan as his hand reaches up and pinches your nipple.

“When’s the last time someone fucked you, huh? M’gonna ruin you for anyone else.” He breathes, tongue licking over your nipple.

“Dabi, please-“

“So pretty when you beg, baby. Be patient now.”

He doesn’t stop licking at your chest, mumbling about how pretty your tits look, as he uses a hand to undos the drawstrings on your scrubs. He holds your trousers away from your body and you gasp at the heat on your legs as he burns them off your body. He grins, all teeth and stretching staples.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Not unless you ask for it.”

His fingers trail over the front of your underwear and your cheeks heat up, embarrassed at the wet patch on the front. He clicks his tongue, pressing down with two fingers and you keen at the pressure on your clit.

“All this for me? You been hiding this pretty pussy from me?” He hums.

You lean your head back and it thuds against the wall. Dabi slips his coat off and the t-shirt he’s wearing quickly. You let your eyes trail over his body, fingers dancing against the scar across his chest. He kisses you again, long and hard.

“Want you to cum on my fingers, okay? Can you do that for me?” He murmurs, free hand curving against your cheek.

“Yes, yes, please-“

Your voice hitches as he burns off your underwear. Without warning, he shoves a finger inside of you and your nails dig into his shoulder, a curse leaving your mouth at the sudden intrusion. His finger hits deeper than yours ever have and he barely gives you time to adjust before he shoves in another. You can hear it as he pumps his fingers in and out, can hear how wet you are for him. You move against the steady rhythm.

“Such a slut. Look at you, humping on my fucking fingers.” Dabi grins and you face flushes and you turn away. He tuts, grabbing your face in his hand and turning it back to look at him.

“No, you watch. Look at yourself dripping all over me.” He breathes, kissing the crook of your neck.

You moan as his thumb circles against your clit. He begins scissoring his fingers, stretching your walls. You let your hands run down his body, smoothing against the panes of his chest. He just watches you face as it twitches the further he pushes, you face scrunching in pleasure. You keen as he hits that soft spot deep inside you and he looks like he’s struck gold, suddenly moving with more fervour. He puts in another finger and you shake your head, breathing getting heavier.

“I’m close, Dabi.” You pant. It’s been an embarrassingly short time but you feel your toes curl as he presses into you again.

“Good girl, you gonna cum for me? Gonna squirt all over my fingers?”

You arch your back, chasing and running away from the sensations. “Dabi- please-”

He licks a stripe up your neck. “Beg me. Ask me if you can cum.”

“Please, Dabi, please I need- I need to cum, make me cum.”

“Fuck, come on. “ His thumbs speeds up on your clit and your back arches as his fingers pump into you faster. He whispers sweet words into your skin, dragging you through your orgasm. You breathe heavily, leaning against him as you come down from your high.

He pulls his fingers out and you watch with lidded eyes as he sucks them into his mouth, tongue curling around as he groans at the taste of you.

“Taste so good, baby. Now up. Let’s go.”

He pats the side of your leg, gesturing for you to jump. You rest your arms on his shoulders, head leaning against his. You do and watch as his biceps curl as he carries you effortlessly, hands gripping at your ass as he enters your kitchen. You eyebrows furrow and you tap his shoulder.

“Dabi, my bedrooms down the hall, what are you-”

“Can’t wait. Need you now.”

Before you can protest he drops you and bends you over your own counter. You grunt as your chest hits the cool surface. Your skin welcomes the cool sensation because you're covered in marks, purple and red and indents of his teeth littering your skin. Dabi’s hands smooth over your ass and you yelp as he slaps it. He uses his other hand to grab both of yours, easily circling both your wrists in one of his.

“Been dreaming of this ass, you know.” He starts unbuckling his belt. You try to turn around but he pushes you back. “Always walking around in those shorts. Such a fucking tease.”

And when he presses his against you, you can feel him. Long and hot and so impossibly hard on your back, and so big. You have no idea how the hell he’s going to fit inside of you. Dabi notices the way your thighs clench and you can’t see the smirk on his face but you can hear it when he moans into your ear. So filthy. He sounds like a pornstar.

“You feel that? It’s all for you, baby. You put that there.” Dabi grunted. “And I’m- Wait, shit.”

This time when you turn, Dabi lets you. He looks pissed and you’re momentarily distracted by the sight of him with his jeans and boxer slung below his hips.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I was in such a fucking hurry to get here i forgot to bring a condom. Or condoms.” He frowns.

You relax. “Oh. It’s fine, I’m on birth control, you don’t need it.”

Dabi freezes slightly. “What?”

“I mean, I’m clean. If you are too, then yeah, you don’t need one.”

Dabi just stares. Breathing heavily still. You falter, thinking you said the wrong thing. “I mean, if you want one still I probably ha-”

He descends on you again. He kisses you desperately, both hands cupping your face as he presses you into him so you can feel him on your thigh. When he parts he pants for breath, turning you around once more, bending you back onto your stomach.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. Want me to fill you up, is that it?” He hisses as you grind back into his crotch. He delivers another slap to your ass, this time harder, hotter.

“Want me to fuck you until you’re dripping all over your own kitchen?” He laughs as you shudder, and you nod frantically. “Spread your legs for me. Wider, baby.”

You comply shakily. You arch your back. “Come on, Dabi.” “Patience, Y/N. Don’t worry, you’ll come on this cock.”

And he lines himself up at your entrance. Dipping himself between your folds and dragging the tip of his dick, wet with his pre-cum, up and down your slit, gathering your wetness and spreading it around his dick. He spits into his hand, uses it to wet his dick before he starts pushing into you. The stretch is delicious, and you grip the edge of the counter as he pushes into you slowly. He shudders, cursing low under his breath.

“Good girl, that’s it. God, you’re so, fuck, you’re so warm.” He grunts.

You whimper as he pushes himself fully inside you. You think if he was any bigger you’d see him in your stomach. He stills for a moment, lets you adjust to him. You can hear his restraint, hands so hot as they hold your arms back. He waits for a moment too long though, because you start wriggling, pushing your hips back.

“Please, Dabi, come on.”

His hands slide down your back to grip your hips. “What do you want? Tell me.”

“Want you. Fuck me, Dabi, please.” You whine.

It spurs him into action. He thrusts into you, deep enough that it pushes you against the counter. You moan loudly and he groans, hands leaving bruises in the dip of your hips as he fucks into you harder.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s a good girl. So fucking wet.” He sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You feel your cheeks heat at the compliment. His thrusts were constant and so deep you feel so full of him. Sweat drips down your back and your hair plasters to your forehead. Dabi presses kisses down your back, hands kneading your ass.

“That feel good?”

“Yes, yes, Dabi!” You cry out.

“Gonna fuck this pussy so good. Nobody will ever fuck you like I can fuck you, you hear me?”

He suddenly pulls out. Flips you around so that you’re facing him. You barely have time to think before he’s back inside you. Your hands curl around his neck and your face rests on his shoulder, mindlessly mumbling as he pounds into you. Dabi lets you lean against the counter so he can grab at your hair, pulling your head back.

“I wanna hear you, sweetheart. That bratty little mouth of yours.”

“S-Shut up.” You breathe, relishing in the feeling on him inside you.

“Been waiting so long for this. For you.”

His praise becomes breathier, his voice stuttering as he gets closer. His finger comes down to rub at your clit, eyes shining as you writhe. No matter how you move he’s there, rubbing maddening circles against you. You moan louder than you’d like, and Dabi leans back, impressed. Kisses your forehead.

“Want, shit, want you to come for me again. Yeah? Gonna come on my cock?” He leans down and nibbles at your ear, voice vibrating low in his chest.

“Yes, I’m close. I’m close.” You breathe, hands scratching red lines down his back.

“Good. Gonna fill you up. Fuck you full of my cum until you can’t walk.”

You nod, clenching down on him and he groans, low and long. “M’not gonna last if you keep tightening around me like that.”

He loses all composure, thrusting frantically as your chest moves up and down erratically. He kisses you, and you struggle to reciprocate with the tightening of your core. The rise in intensity has your eyes rolling in the back of your head, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you cum, and he curses and sings your name like a prayer as his fingers still work you. He thrusts once, twice and then he’s cumming and you’re thankful that his hands come up to hold your waist because you think you’re legs might give out.

The room is silent except for the two of you panting for breath. He rests his head on your shoulder, black locks tickling the side of your face. You reach hand up and you rub at his scalp and he sighs.

“God. Why did we do this in here? This is so unhygienic.” You huff.

Dabi just smiles lazily. Presses a kiss behind your ear and the side of your neck.

“You’re right. Let’s go shower. Together.”

“Fine.” You sigh like you don’t want to but you already feel heat pool into your gut.

“Good. Does this mean I can finally sleep in your bed?”

“Oh, shut up.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

guess u did fix him.. Dabi if ur reading this come home the kids miss u

idk I feel like Dabi wouldn’t be that rough in bed yk? Like I feel like his life is so violent he needs some break from it. Also this is my second ever smut BARE WITH ME if it’s bad

I’ve had the longesttt two weeks 😔 back to back uni and work so I will be having a break for a couple days, so enjoy this fic!!!

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