#i feel so uncomfortable with not specifically my body but how my body makes me feel uncomfortable with my perception

[miupow]

UNDER THE MOON

★ pairing。lee felix x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , comedy , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! demon!felix , witch!reader , magic , breeding kink , unprotected sex , sub to dom , oral (f. rec) , vaginal fingering , cowgirl position , mating press , creampie , overstimulation , dacryphilia , squirting , breast play , marking , size kink , monster cock felix lol , dirty talk , praise kink , degredation kink , name calling , power play , bulge kink , orgasm control , strangers to ???

★ synopsis。you accidentally summoned the wrong demon , but you won't let that get in the way of getting what you want.

a/n ⸝⸝ not proofread lol. let me know if there are any mistakes! this is my second longest fic to date, wow... i hope you all enjoy ! [ 5. 5k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

any respectable, well-to-do witch knows that the perfect time to summon a demon is during the full moon. that was when the boundary between the living and the otherworldly was at its most blurred, and a person's magical ability was especially potent– you could feel it thrumming through your body just under your skin, concentrating at your fingertips, just begging to be released. accompanied by your excitement and nerves, you felt simply alight with power.

even then, you still couldn’t believe you managed to summon a demon.

the force of the summoning makes him fall flat on his ass, thick black smoke filling up your bedroom and snuffing out your ritual candles– you can only get a good look at him once the smoke clears out of your open window, the moonlight illuminating his form in the darkness. the first thing you notice are his mismatched eyes, wide and wild as he takes in his new surroundings; one was a deep dark brown, the other an icy steel blue, his pupils slit like a feline’s. his otherworldly beauty takes your breath away, a smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones, heart shaped face framed by curled black horns and platinum hair that cascades down to his shoulders; his inquisitive gaze travels to the summoning circle he was laid out on, ancient runes etched into your hardwood floor, and then to you, peering down at him from the edge of your big pink bed.

“h-how did you do that?!” the demon finally asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. his thick aussie accent surprised you— you didn’t think demons could have accents other than whatever one they have in hell. “where did you learn how to do that?” 

“hello to you too,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “i summoned you here with my family spell book.”

“spell book?” he echoes, taking another look around your frightfully girly bedroom— he’s quick to spot a rather old-looking tome left open on the floor near where he sat in the summoning circle, propped up with a beady-eyed stuffed animal. 

“it’s been in my family for generations.” you stand to pick the spell book up off the floor, dusting the smoke residue off the pages. 

the demon blinked up at you, odd eyes raking over the lacey little nightgown you were wearing. “you, um, don’t really look like that kind of girl...” 

“the kind to be a witch?” you laugh. “i just summoned you here, didn’t i? listen, i need your help.”

“my help? with what?” he moves to stand up as well, patting down his crumpled leather vest— he’s much, much taller than you expected him to be.

you hide your gulp with a dramatic scoff. “i want to make a deal with you, idiot; what else would i have summoned you for?! that’s what you do with demons, isn’t it? and, like, sign over your firstborn or whatever.” 

the demon stares at you in abject disbelief for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. “you humans are so stupid…” he mutters under his breath. “i’m not even that kind of demon. i can’t make any ‘deals’ with you.”

“bullshit! what do you mean you can’t make deals with me?!” you retort, crossing your arms. “the spell specifically said it would summon an entity that would make all my dreams come true!”

the demon blanches and stutters, his freckled cheeks turning pink. for some reason, you didn’t think that demons could blush. “um… well, about that…” he laughs nervously. “i’m an incubus. not the kind of demon you’re looking for, i think… i’m not even that good of an incubus, to be honest with you…”

you cock your head, watching as the demon shuffles his feet, his pointed black leather boots scuffing up your floor. “why do you say that?”

“i’ve never been summoned like this before, by a mortal…” he admits softly, his blush deepening. “i’ve never been in the human realm at all before; i’m supposed to be using you mortals to strengthen my powers, prey on you in your sleep… but i’m just too nervous! you humans frighten me… the other incubi make fun of me for it. i’m a terrible demon, you probably need to summon someone different…”

his sad pout was so cute for a demon from hell, and you can’t help but giggle a little meanly at the incubus’ plight. “you’re a virgin incubus? i never thought there was such a thing…”

the demon scowls, his pretty face screwed up in a way that wasn’t intimidating in the slightest. “don’t laugh at me.” he whines petulantly, “i could kill you right now if i wanted to.”

“sure you could, loser virgin incubus.”

the demon’s scowl deepens, trying very hard to keep his odd eyes from wandering their way down to your breasts, pushed up in your nightie by your crossed arms. “shut up. don’t call me that.”

“what should i call you then?” you snicker. you can’t help but revel in the way the demon’s eyes eat you alive— while he seems gentle and harmless, the way his mismatched eyes seem to glow with something dark and venomous when he looks over you leaves you shivering. something darker seemed to be hiding just under the surface of this seemingly innocent incubus… and you yearned to discover just what that was.

“felix. my name is felix.” the demon— felix-- mumbles to his shoes. he seemed to have noticed that you’ve caught on to his staring, anxiously avoiding eye contact. cute.

“that’s not a very demonic name.” you remark playfully. “i like it, though. it suits you, felix.”

felix huffs and rolls his eyes, but you can see the beginnings of a shy smile tug at the corner of his lips, his sharp, vampire-like teeth poking out in an oddly endearing way. you won’t let his cuteness distract you, though— you took all this time and effort to summon him, and you were determined to not let it get wasted.

“so… do you have any cool powers or anything?” you press, “like, could you maybe… make somebody fall in love with me?”

felix blinks owlishly down at you. “um… what?”

“listen, there’s this guy on campus i like, right? he’s my roommate’s best friend and he’s just so dreamy… but he’s in love with this girl i can’t stand. it’s like he’s obsessed with her, it’s disgusting.” you huff, curling your lip. “i just want him to forget about her and see what he’s missing! can you make him fall in love with me or something, like cupid? make him obsessed with me instead— you can do that, right?”

“er, well, kind of—”

“you can? perfect!” you clap your hands excitedly. “do i just need to tell you his name, or—”

“wait, wait—” felix interjects with a flustered stutter, “hold on a moment! w-what’s in it for me? i don’t go around doing favors for free, you know.”

you think for a moment, an ingenious and devilish idea quickly forming in your head as you slide your gaze down felix’s fit body. you never expected hell’s demons to be so drop-dead gorgeous, but you supposed it made sense with him being an incubus and all… slowly your lips pull into a devious grin. sure, you summoned the wrong demon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do your bidding anyway.

“you want to be a better incubus, right? want the other demons to stop making bullying you?”

“well, yes…”

“i can help you.” you offer, taking a step closer to the nervous demon in front of you. “i can teach you everything you need to know about pleasing a human… if, in return, you use your little demon powers to help me out.”

it takes felix a second to process just what you’re proposing, his eyes widening comically and his mouth dropping open in a gape. the blush on his freckled cheeks now burns crimson red, all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. “wh- wait, really, you— with me?!”

you nod with a sensual smile, taking another slow step forwards; just close enough to reach out and run a finger down his chest. “you help me and i’ll help you, okay?”

felix’s eyes flicker down to your lips, his adam’s apple bobbing with his gulp, and you can see it on his face when his flimsy resolve crumbles. “you’re lucky you summoned one of hell’s nicer demons, no other demon would ever agree to something like this— mmffh!”

you grab him by the lapels and pull him into a kiss in the middle of his sentence, his last words smothered on your soft and persuasive lips. he returned your kiss with reckless abandon, whimpering into your mouth. he was far too good of a kisser to be as inexperienced as he claimed, the tenderness leaving your knees weak and your thoughts spinning. a thin string of spit connects your wet lips when you pull away for air, snapping when felix darts a forked pink tongue out to lick his bottom lip in a daze.

“wow…” he whispers in awe, his sparkling eyes gazing at you through lowered lashes. “kissing humans is so much better than i thought it would be…”

his lips recapture yours, more demanding this time as that sinful forked tongue coaxed your lips open and explored the recesses of your mouth. the savage intensity of it sends a shock wave through your entire body, your senses short-circuiting— you tear your lips from his, quickly turn him around and push him onto your pink floral mattress. once again, you nearly succumbed to his distractions.

felix lets out a huff when his backside hits the bed, confusion paralyzing him just long enough for you to begin slowly undressing.

“woah, a little impatient, are you?” felix laughs, “you humans can never take anything slow…ly…”

he grows quiet as you slide the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, the thin lace fabric pooling around your ankles. it left you completely bare except for a pair of tiny cotton panties, a little wet spot already visible in the white fabric. he ogles at your tits, round and perky with your nipples beginning to harden in the cool air.

his hungry gaze roamed over your figure, taking in your soft curves and tummy, dropping to follow your hands as you pull your panties down your thighs. they join your nightgown on the floor, and felix gets his first look at your pussy as you step out of them and kick them to the side.

“wow… you are so… beautiful.”

the sincerity in which he says it makes both your heart and your pussy flutter. you can’t hide your eagerness as you saunter forwards and begin to climb up on felix’s lap. “are you ready for your lesson?” you purr into his ear, your hand sliding up his thigh towards the growing bulge in his pants. just the size of the bulge alone makes your head spin— and he’s not even fully hard yet.

“h-hold on,” felix whimpers, grabbing your wrist, “you’re so small and, you know.. human sized… shouldn’t i, um, prep you? i don’t want to hurt you, i’m not one of those kinds of demons.”

you look back down at his bulge, just out of your reach with his fingers around your wrist. “that’s probably a good idea…”

you slide off his lap, positioning yourself in the middle of your bed; you rest your head among all your pillows and stuffed animals, all cute and cuddly and nothing at all like the dark energy that filled the room, the wicked smile on your face as felix crawls up the bed and in between your parted legs. he stares enthralled at your pussy, spread open all for him to admire— his hands come to grasp at the meat of your thighs, seemingly trying to ground himself as he takes everything in.

“oh, fuck,” he croaks, mismatched eyes glinting in the moonlight, “you’re already so wet, it’s dripping all over the sheets… it’s beautiful. have you been wanting me this whole time?”

your words get stuck in your throat, shuddering in arousal as you nod coyly down at him. he screws his eyes shut and lets out a deep, pathetic groan. 

“god, you’re so fucking sexy… i never thought i could get so aroused by a mortal.”

“i’m sorry, whose name was that?” you joke, still feeling mischievous even as your heart rattled in your chest. felix shoots you an irritated glare.

“oh, be quiet.”

he shuts you up with another searing hot kiss, demanding and passionate, and his stout fingers moved to tease at your wet, sticky folds. you gasp against his lips, squirming beneath him; the gentle stroking of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure through you, your pussy clenching around nothing but air.

“i’m not sure what to do…” felix mumbles, breaking your kiss to graze his lips across your jawline. “i’ve never done anything like this before… will you show me how to make you feel good?”

“just touch me,” you plead. “i want your fingers inside of me, please—”

felix starts with just one, short but deliciously thick as he slowly pushes it into your fluttering hole. “fuck, you’re so tight…” the stretch makes you cry out and claw at his shoulders, finally having something inside to ease the ache after being so needy for so long.

felix freezes with his finger buried inside to the knuckle, glancing down at you nervously. “did i hurt you?”

“no, no, feels so good—“ his hesitation would be cute if you weren’t so worked up, desperately grinding your cunt against his hand. “now move it in and out, nice and slow…”

he follows your directions dutifully, his movements slow and unsure, and despite his inexperience and anxiety, he quickly found a rhythm that flooded your shivering body with dizzying desire. waves of ecstasy crashed through you as you bucked your hips to meet his finger, whimpers and whines of delight falling from your open, panting mouth. his fingertip brushes your spongey sweet spot, electricity rippling under your skin and sending shockwaves through your core as you moaned in sweet agony.

“am i doing good, little human?” felix breathes shyly against your ear.

his eagerness to please made your pussy throb around him, sucking his finger in deeper—he was a quick learner, paying special attention to your sweet spot as you gushed slick all over his hand. “i think i am, you’re even wetter than before, it’s so noisy,” he accentuates his claim with a curl of his finger, the obscene wet squelches of your pussy ringing in your ears. “just look how well you’re taking it…is it okay if i add another finger?”

“yes! yes, fuck yes, please—”

he slides another fat finger in along with his first, his big eyes watching as he stretched your tight pussy out even wider for the cock you all but ached for. you sob in pleasure as he quickens his pace, curls his fingertips harder against your sweet spot. “wow, you can barely take two of my fingers..” the demon above you murmured in faux concern, “i don’t know if my cock will fit.”

you through your head back with a lustful moan.

“tell me what you want from me.” he continues in a deep rasp, his accent only adding to the desire in his voice, “tell me what to do to make you cum.”

“t-touch my clit!” you hiccup, pretty manicured nails tearing at the fabric of his shirt.

you expect another finger, maybe his palm—what you don’t expect is for felix to trail soft kisses down your chest and belly, lower and lower until his plump lips were hovering over the curve of your pussy.

“wh-what are you doing?!” you squeal as felix kicks your legs over his shoulders, “do you even know what you’re doing down there?!”

“no.” felix shakes his head with a grin before diving his head between your thighs.

he attaches his lips to your swollen clit, his long tongue dragging up between your folds to circle the bud with shocking precision. he sucks gently on your clit while his fingers pump deep inside of you, his pretty moans and groans muffled with his face pressed against your squelching pussy. “you taste so good,” felix mumbles, his wide, mismatched eyes blinking up at you to take in every one of your reactions. “fuck, i love this pussy so much… think you can take another finger?”

he presses in a third finger before you can even respond, pussy stretched past your limits as you sob out in pleasure. it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, his fingers quickly pushing you closer and closer to the edge as he licks your clit and slurps up your juices. the flames of passion raged through your very being, and you abandon yourself to the knot tightening deep in your belly. you haven’t felt pleasure like this in ages, yelping as felix sucks particularly hard at your clit, and without thinking your arms dart down to grab ahold of his twisted black horns. the growl felix lets out against your heated skin is obscene, dark and beastly as he buries his face farther into your cunt, quickens the pace of his fingers against your sweet spot. “fuck yes, nasty girl, that’s it— grab my horns and just take it!”

you use your grip on his horns to buck wildly against his face, the knot in your belly threatening to snap as felix pulls his fingers out to grab your hips tightly. his clawed fingers dig painfully at your flesh, but it only heightens your sense of pleasure as he shoves his tongue deep into your wet hole. he tongue fucks your pussy with vigor, his groans and growls growing deeper and more demonic as he fucks you to your climax. “pussy’s so fucking good, can’t get enough…”

“felix!” you squeal when the forked tip of his tongue brushes against your sweet spot. “felix, i’m close, i’m gonna cum--!”

“say my name again, scream it!” felix crows with his face still buried in your cunt, the dark, powerful boom to his voice that hadn’t been there before making you finally hurtled you past the point of now return.

you scream his name as you squirt all over his face, nasty and wet as you ride out your high on his tongue— you’re quickly catapulted into overstimulation, tears pooling in your lashes as you whine and attempt to push him off you by his horns. if anything, that just seems to spur him on more.

“fuck no, i’m not done,” he growls, a dangerous edge to his voice frightening you and making your spent pussy throb all the same. “i need more, can’t stop— need to make you cum again, and again—”

he devours you like an animal, otherworldly strength keeping him flush against you even as you thrash and push roughly at his head. he doesn’t stop until you cum again, soaking his face and your sheets in sweet sticky slick— your pathetic cries seem to snap him out of it, hastily tearing himself away from your trembling little pussy to look up at you in worry and alarm.

“i-i’m so sorry, i don’t know what came over me! i just.. lost control— that was good though, right?”

his pretty pink lips and swollen and wet with your arousal, his freckled cheeks and chin smeared with it, even his nose; he gazes at you with big, watery doe eyes, the opposite of how he had been looking at you when he had his face between your legs. you babble incoherently, scrambled brain unable to string together a single sentence, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of two back-to-back orgasms.

felix smirks. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

his odd eyes snap back to your spent pussy, the primal hunger in his eyes making you throb despite of how spent you already were. “you look so pretty like this, all spent… can you take more? i need to be inside of you, now.”

your own hazy, unfocused gaze lowers to the straining bulge in his leather pants— the size of it makes you dizzy, a little frightened, but your overwhelming need for more outweighs any fear, and you slowly move to prop yourself up. “can i ride you? it’ll be easier for me to, um… take it.”

felix nods excitedly, as obedient as ever as he moves to take your place on the mattress. his platinum hair splays out around his head like a halo, his pretty face so angelic despite the fangs, tongue and horns… the imagery makes you snort.

“alright, you can get on whenever you’re ready— ooh!~”

you swing your leg over his waist without hesitation, straddling him as you begin to tug recklessly at his clothes. you pull his vest and shirt up to his chest, revealing twitching washboard abs that made your mouth water, and loosened his belt and fly. tugging his pants down to his thighs, his red swollen cock slaps wetly against his abs, rock hard and drooling pearly precum from the fat tip. you moan at just the sheer size of it, long and thick with the prettiest pulsing veins— you’re barely able to fit your hand around it when you reach down to take ahold of him, relishing in the low whimper felix lets out. you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, watching in rapture as more precum leaks from the head and slicks up your hand. it aids in the slide of your tight fist, felix groaning out pathetically as your other hand slides up your belly to pinch and roll your budding nipple.

you slide his cock between your pussy lips, your slick and his precum mixing together to make a sticky mess. you let his cockhead brush against your clit, the sudden shock of pleasure making the both of you moan— felix’s hands are shaking when they shoot up to take ahold of your waist. the lust on his face makes your tummy turn, the tenderness and sincerity in which he gazed up at you. “if it’s ever too much, tell me, please?” he breathes, his thumbs stroking the flushed skin. ”forget about the deal.”

you open your mouth to answer, but find yourself unable to speak; his tip catches your entrance, the sheer size of it pushing against your hole leaving you breathless and stuck in a silent scream. it feels so much bigger than three fingers, more than anything you think you’ve ever taken, and you freeze in a confusing mix of frightened and aroused.

“shh, don’t be scared, human,” felix coos, his steady hands keeping you firm against his cockhead. he squeezes your waist reassuringly. “i’m not going to hurt you, i promise.”

his tip slides inside with a pop, the gummy walls of your pussy gripping onto him like a vice as he steadies himself and slowly starts pushing in— the burning pain of the stretch is quickly overshadowed by a flood of pulsing red hot desire, drawing you to a height of passion you had never known before. never had any lover made you feel this way, trembling with ecstasy as your greedy pussy sucked in more and more of felix’s demon cock. “you feel so good, you’re so warm, so tight— such a good girl, taking all this cock!” felix keens, eyes rolling back into his head as you take him all the way to the base, his shiny mouth falling open in a desperate string of moans when his cockhead kisses snug against your cervix. “oh fuck, you took it all!”

you both take a moment to relax and adjust, catching your breaths as you pant into each other’s faces; felix waits patiently until you’re breathing goes steady and you unclench your pussy around him, begin to squirm needily in his grasp. “okay, you can start whenever you’re ready—"

like a woman possessed, you start bouncing on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, his fat tip hitting so dizzyingly deep inside of you with every movement of your hips. felix throws his head back with a broken cry, his hands flying down to grip harsh fistfuls of your ass as you ride him. “oh fuck, you should have warned me! fuck fuck fuck, slow down!”

you’re deaf to his cries, unable to focus on anything other than the explosive pleasure that coursed through your core; you plant your feet on the mattress to help strengthen your bouncing, so fast and rough nasty wet slaps echoed throughout the room every time your ass met his pelvis. “you’re so fucking big, so deep inside of me!” you whine.

“you’re just using me like a toy… are you feeling good, baby? yeah?” felix whimpers, voice weak and wavering, “n-naughty little girl likes being full of big, fat demon cock? o-oh god, you’re going to ruin me…”

you answer him with a wail, crying out his name once again as you claw red scratch marks down felix’s taut, muscular chest and abs. the sting just seems to make him harder, his cock twitching inside of you as he moans in pain and pleasure. his noises border on animalistic, deep snarls and growls that go right to your pussy. his mismatched eyes lock onto your chest, your perky tits bouncing obscenely in his face, and he licks his lips with that dastardly snake-like tongue.

“perfect girl, perfect pussy, perfect little tits— do you want me to play with them? suck on them? tell me what you want and i’ll do it.”

“please,” you sob, “please make me feel good!”

felix pulls you down so your body is flush with his, his hands leaving your ass to pinch and roll your nipples. his grip on your breast is bruising as he squeezes and fondles, pulling one into his wet hot mouth— the combined stimulation of his fingers and his mouth on your puffy nipples sending your senses into overdrive, the new angle making his cock feel even deeper inside of you than before, carving out space in your tummy as you moan in delight. he bites down gently on your nipple, pointy teeth teasing your bud, his plump lips and talented tongue caressing as they slowly move from sucking your swollen, peeking bud to trailing down the swell of your tit. he kisses a searing path up your sternum, leaving dusky purple marks in his wake as his hands continue their onslaught on your tits, massaging and groping with tantalizing ferocity. “why do you taste so fucking good? every single inch of you is delicious…” felix murmurs against your fiery skin, his canines ghosting over your collarbones, “you marked me up, pretty girl, now i have to return the favor… i could just eat you whole.”,

“fuck me!” you squeal, dripping pussy spasming around felix’s fat cock as you crash your hips down onto his. “fuck me, please, need it harder!”

“fuck, don’t say things like that— it’s taking everything i have to stay in control, baby, pussy’s so good! i-i’m being gentle for your sake, if i could have you how i want you i’m afraid i might break you—”

his words go straight to your cunt, lighting a fire of need inside of you; with an evil little smile you suddenly stop bouncing, your ass flush against his hips as you begin grinding tight little circles. felix tears himself away from your spit-soaked chest, utterly debauched as he gazes up at you with wide, desperate eyes. “n-no, wait, why are you stopping!?”

“i want you to break me, felix,” you purr with a sharp glint in your eye, teasing over his scratch marks with the tips of your fingers. “i want you to lose control and let me have it, please—”

in an instant you’re thrown across the bed, your back hitting your mattress knocking the wind out of you, and he’s on top of you before you can catch your breath. his claws snatch ahold of both your legs and tosses them over his shoulder, folds you over as he resheathes his throbbing cock back inside your gaping, drooling pussy. with inhuman strength he takes complete control over your body, trapping you beneath him and leaving you helpless, unable to do anything other than lay there and take it as he rams his cock inside of you. his bulbous cockhead knocks against your cervix so hard you fear he’ll push through, such a witty girl brainless and fucked stupid split open with his cock nestled deep in your tummy.

“you never wanted it slow and gentle, did you angel?” felix goads, his deep voice gaining an echoing, demonic edge. “you wanted me to treat you like a slut from the very beginning… such a nasty little witch.”

his mismatched eyes catch on the little bulge his cock makes in your tummy, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust; he presses down on your tummy with a devilish grin and a moan, able to feel his cockhead pounding up in your guts. “you feel me right here, don’t you baby?”

“s-so d-deep—!” is all you can manage to whimper, your teary eyes threatening to spill from the overwhelming pleasure.

felix coos at your fucked out face, his sharp nails digging into the meat of your thighs in a disorienting mix of pain and pleasure. “so cute, taking my cock so well… will you let me cum inside? i want to— i need to fill you up with my cum.”

“yes, yes— god, i’m gonna cum, please!” you beg, any last shred of dignity leaving in favor for your impending climax. your need for release clouded your mind, unable to think of anything except for creaming around felix’s cock as he shoots a hot load inside of you.

“who? god’s not here, baby.” felix crows, mirroring your own joke with a chuckle. you don’t have the energy to even get mad at him. “just us— now tell me how badly you want this demon to cum inside of you. be a good girl and beg for it… maybe i’ll give you that firstborn you want so badly?”

your tears finally fall as you surrender completely to uncontrollable ecstasy, sobbing for felix to breed you as his hips grow sloppy. he’s so close to the edge, just as much as you— you can feel it in the shuddering of his body, his broken whimpers, the tightness in his heavy balls as they slap against your ass. you grab fistfuls of the bed sheets to ground you, keep you from floating away entirely as you lose yourself in pleasure.

“cum together with me, angel,” felix pants above you, thrusting as deep as he could inside inside your pussy, “cum on my cock as i put a baby in you—!”

you cum all over his cock in a rush of exalted endorphins, your pussy spasming violently with your third and most powerful orgasm of the night. your gummy walls clamp down around his shaft, trying to push him out and suck him in deeper at the same time; you can see a foamy white ring formed around the base when he pulls out to thrust back in, a sticky and creamy mess down his balls and thighs. finally, with an animalistic grunt, felix stills inside of you to add to the mess, hot thick ropes of seed flooding your womb until you overflowed. you’ve never felt so full in your life, slick and cum oozing out around where felix’s cock stayed buried deep inside of you. you ride out the aftershocks in each other’s arms, falling into an intimate embrace as you both work to catch your breath.

“fuck, look at that…” felix whispers after a long moment of silence, his hips moving gently to thrust loosely. more cum leaks out from where you were joined, the both of you moaning at the sight. “there’s so much cum it’s leaking out… a-are you okay? was that good?”

“good?! that was the best sex i’ve ever had in my life—” you reply, moving to prop yourself up, but felix pushes you back down with urgency.

“no, no baby, don’t move, you gotta keep it all inside! stay still while i push it in deeper…”

before you can protest felix begins to wildly pound into your spent pussy again, his cock still rock hard and throbbing against your walls— you cry out in surprise and overstimulation, more exhausted and drained than you’ve ever felt before, yet your greedy pussy opens up for him with ease. he shushes your sobs and hiccups, his caresses gentle but his eyes wild and dangerous… he’s gotten drunk on the power of your love, lost all control to the beast that had been hiding inside of him for so long..

“i don’t think that’s going to be enough… i’m not stopping until i’ve bred you proper, just how you want it, right? we’re not done.”

[ambeer6]

Longer than expected yapping about case 2 of DRDT. (dated ep 14 of ch 2)

Some thoughts about the chapter 2 case. Warnings for all the obvious.

First of all, I think Teruko is right about how the pulley system was set up. Rope over the rafters on the ceiling, then through the seesaw and then around the carousel. Then tying the rope to the correct length before letting go, so there's no worry about stopping the carousel with your bare hands. This simply makes sense.

Something that confuses me, is the amount of people arguing against this idea? Not many people on tumblr thankfully, but I don't really see why this setup would be unbelievable.

Advantages of the pulley:

Using a pulley reduces weight. Arei would be far easier to lift using this method. Even a kid could lift her this way by simply leaning into the carousel.

Using the pulley means you don't have to pick up Arei and hook her into the noose. You can simply leave her unconscious on the ground and hook the noose around her instead, then push the carousel.

Even if you're okay with her dying of strangulation, it's easy to tie the rope to the right length and just let her drop to break her neck. It grants Arei a quick death. (and you'll be done quicker)

Even if the killer is strong enough to just lift Arei into the noose, using a pulley is much easier and means you'll spend less time holding her. I know not everyone would care, but I certainly wouldn't enjoy holding onto an unconscious girl and trying to lift her into a noose, let alone an awake girl trying to struggle. (if you believe she woke up)

Downsides of the pulley:

A lot more work to clean up afterwards. Especially since we know most of it wasn't actually cleaned up, all they did was hang Arei into a different place afterwards. (I wonder if they were in a hurry, or if they assumed that somehow people wouldn't realize Arei couldn't have broken her neck from the short rope on the swingset)

a lot more work to set up to begin with. You'll have to either get up very early, or set it up the night beforehand if you wanted to be completely prepared for the murder. Clearly this wasn't just a spur of the moment thing.

That's pretty much all I can think of, honestly. When talking about the advantages or downsides of the pulley at least.

Other stuff that's maybe a bit silly to bring up:

Those fish are a bit big to have fitted through the holes in the jerrycan handles.

How do we think those jerrycans were attached to Arei? Like, I know the handles are broken (also giggle at the size of the holes and the size of the fish), but my question is more like... did they use rope? It sounds logical to use rope, but they don't mention any rope burn on Arei's body.

Maybe the 'glove is for ropeburn' truthers meant the ropeburn on Arei herself? Did the killer place the glove on Arei's neck before hanging the rope with the jerrycans off her? If they got rid of the jerrycans afterwards, maybe they also took Arei's glove. (disclaimer: I don't think they used the glove this way, but I'm open to arguments in favour of it's usage)

Rose mentioned she memorized the trash. Do you think there's a chance the needle and thread will be brought up by her? I feel like if those are going to be important, then Rose will be the person to mention seeing them in the trash.

Clothes baul.

Something else I want to mention is that the way some people talk about this case makes me uncomfortable. I want to remind people that this is just a story that someone wanted to tell. I understand that the people saying they'll drop hang themselves if the killer is a specific person are just joking, but if I were the dev, I'd feel extremely uncomfortable from just how many people are talking about the case like this.

I understand not wanting a certain character to die and I can't stop you from making jokes about it, but saying that killing off your fave character is a horrible writing choice and you'll kill yourself over it, would put immense stress on the dev, as well as everyone who helped with the project.

Also on the topic of writing: people make illogical decisions sometimes, but especially when under stress. The case needs to make sense, but I don't want people arguing something is bad writing because the killer made one or two illogical decisions along the way.

Another thing I noticed is that a lot of people are assuming what I call the "Ellery Queen case logic", which assumes that the reader (or viewer, in this case) should be able to solve the full murder based on the clues given during the investigation, before the confrontation (trial, in this case). While definitely understandable, it's great being able to solve things beforehand, we need to remember that this is not the only way to go about writing cases. Personally I've engaged more with what I call the "Arthur Conan Doyle case logic", which leaves the most vital piece(s) of evidence hidden from the reader (viewer) until the end of the final confrontation. This makes is either very difficult, or even impossible to solve the case beforehand, meaning you'll have to wait until the very end to even see the final piece of the puzzle.

Now, there's no saying whether Despair Time uses either one or the other case logic style (they could mix it up between every chapter if they want to), so because of that, I ask people to be polite about people's theories, even if they don't explain every single piece of evidence, or if they state that we need to wait for more evidence to be revealed even though the trial already started.

Nothing wrong with voicing your own ideas on people's theories, it can be helpful if they actually misremember something (I misremembered stuff too, so it was good to have it pointed out!) and can help people rework their theories with your arguments in mind, but I just ask that you're not condescending about it if you do.

THAT'S ALL! THANKS FOR READING!

[moodymisty]

So I actually have a 'Uriel Ventris has a kid' story written, If this goes well I'll post more.

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

Taking in the scene before him, there was only one thought in Roboute Guilliman's mind; This is all Belisarius Cawl's fault.

He was over 10 millennia old and he had seen some of the worst things the Galaxy had to offer, from competition from other species, betrayal by his own brothers, and the eldritch Tumors called Gods. He didn't believe that anything could surprise him anymore.

And yet, here he was sitting dumbstruck before a baseline woman, three of his sons, and a tiny human who seemed to be the only one enjoying all of this.

He cleared his throat, "So, ma'am, can you care to explain how you ended up having your charge?" He pointed at the little boy, only for said child to pipe up, "My name is Apollo!"

The woman's cheeks coloured despite her dark complexion, "I apologize on his behalf my lord, he does not know what he is saying." The boy was about to speak up, only for his mother to put her hand over his mouth, muffling his voice.

"Yes, now about young Apollo here." Guilliman continued, a part of him wanted to laugh at the small child's antics, but he had a job to do.

Isadore composed herself, she was in front of a primarch, she cannot disappoint him, especially for Apollo's sake.

"Lord Belisarius Cawl had recruited me to assist on a project, and as my family considered it a great honor, I went with him. I assumed that I would be a servant in his lab, cleaning up after his experiments. However, it seemed that he had a different idea in mind."

Her blush deepened, the implications making everyone uncomfortable.

Roboute wanted very badly to smack Cawl for tricking her in such a way. "I see, do you know who his father is?"

Isadore shifted in her seat, "I was not privy to much of the details of the experiment, but from what I could gather, his father was an astartes from the Ultramarines Chapter."

She really didn't know what else to say, before being fooled by Cawl, she was a rather simple seamstress from an Agriworld. She wasn't considered particularly beautiful either, with plain brown hair, eyes, and skin. A bit taller than average, which was her only stand out feature, but that was cancelled out by her rather ugly freckles marrying her face and body.

Never in her life did she think that she would have a child fathered by an Astartes, for one, she thought that it would be impossible for Space Marines to father children at all.

"I see," the primarch's eye seemed to develop a twitch, he didn't realise that when he gave Cawl the orders to research Primarch virility, he should've been more specific as to where to stop. "We will have the young lad her genetically tested to find his father, then we will regroup and decide how to move forward. Uriel, please escort our guest here to one of the serf quarters so that she may take some rest."

She watched as a tall marine with short, cropped, straight black hair with startling blue eyes nodded and motioned for her to follow him.

She bowed before the primarch and left the room, her child looking up at her curiously.

As they made their way down to the serf quarters, Uriel couldn't help but sneak glances at her, she was beautiful in a down to earth way. Gorgeous chocolate colored hair, clear skin, and deep brown eyes. Her height giving her a matronly aura and her full lips seemed soft.

He tried to push the thoughts away. Their father had recently revealed to them that he was going to give them a choice to have offspring to bolster the Imperium's numbers of neophytes.

He didn't know how to feel about that, but as part of this decision, marines were made to go through intense hypno brainwashing to return to them their more base urges.

Uriel hated how they made him feel like an out of control animal. He didn't like not having full control of his thoughts. Besides, the last thing the poor woman would want is to be harassed by astartes when she had already gone through so much.

He secretly admitted to himself that any astartes who fathered her child was a lucky man.

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

This is basically how the story would go, as Isadore and Uriel grow closer to each other and some shocking reveals as to whose soul Apollo has in him.

Also, yes, Uriel has a thing for Milfs. Isadore has low self esteem as she wasn't considered attractive in her culture, and Cawl only saw her as an acceptable carrier for astartes children.

So, yeah, tell me how you guys feel about this.

added your second post to this one so it's all together <3

the 'i don't know the father' mystery! it's a classic XD and poor guilliman having yet another weird thing to deal with on top of all the other weird things in 42m XD

[seullovesme]

breathe. » karina

pairing ⥬ karina x reader

genre ⥬ angst

summary ⥬ she was seven breaths too late.

WC ⥬ 0.5k

warnings ⥬ su!c!de. this is a very sensitive topic so please do not continue if it makes you uncomfortable

i stared into the sunset that overlooked the city, feeling the breeze against my face as it blew my hair to the side. i closed my eyes and took a deep breath. the smell of fresh air filled my nostrils and soothed my mind, the piles of issues and bad memories left behind.

one breath.

i could hear the bustling street in the distance, but i specifically chose this location for its one purpose; that it’s far enough from the crowds so they wouldn’t find me so quickly. it gave me a chance to see such a beautiful gradient of blue, pink, and orange in the sky alone, and i hoped to see the moon and stars of the night one last time. i stood perfectly still, awaiting their arrival.

one breath.

the sun quickly faded, turning the sky a deep black with the stars decorating it. i looked up at the stars and smiled. how lovely. i loved how much they comforted me and how they helped me forget for a moment.

one breath.

my bare feet felt the cold concrete below, and it sent shivers down my spine. my shirt ruffled in the wind along with my hair, but i didn’t care enough to fix any of it. i could only smile at the moon, remembering how it was always there when there was no one.

the moon watched me fall in love, cry over the hurt, and stayed when it felt like the world was against me. the moon and the stars stayed. why couldn't she?

one breath.

i wanted to cry, my eyes ready for the overload of tears, but it wouldn't happen. i was content, so there was no need to cry anymore. it was finally my chance to be happy. forever.

one breath.

as i leaned forward, i closed my eyes. i spread my arm wide open and prayed for her happiness, no matter how many times i wished i could change the outcome. it wasn't her fault that i turned out this way, but i meant it when i said she'd be my last love. i made that promise and i must fulfill it.

one breath.

i leaped and my feet left the ground as i let my body relax. for a moment, i opened my eyes to see the moon one last time, but i couldn't see it. the tall building across from me was blocking my view. i thought about it and maybe it was good that the moon didn't have to see this. thank you for staying with me.

last breath.

karina was out of air by the time she climbed up the last flight of stairs because the elevator had so conveniently broken down. the burn in her legs couldn’t stop her, she had to reach you. the doors to the rooftop were thrown open, and she came through searching for you, her eyes scanning every inch of the area. she dropped her head in disappointment having not found you, but there on the floor right in front of her laid two pink sneakers. ones that were all too familiar. she stared at the shoes that laid on the hard concrete and she knew.

too late.

she was too late.

[dovedrangeas]

if i die before my mom i am going to leave her something very insulting in my will i think.

[gachaparadise]

I've been doing interludes lately (as you do during an interlude campaign) and the gap in quality and character analysis is insane sometimes. I did Qsh and Nezha's back to back and... Night and day over here. Qsh's was so charming and showed me a new side of my beloved moth, as well as some really cute gap moe moments. Nezha's was boring, hardly focussed on them at all, and made the same tired jokes about their gender over and over... Even the blurb on their profile you get after it's complete does it orz

[g0thsoojin]

🦴..

[revlushaun]

I have a lot on my brain but journaling doesn't feel like enough I need to vent and discuss with someone who knows the exact feelings im going through so the best I will do is venting into my tumblr void of tags

[ak4e7a]

ride it like you own it — enha legal line ab riding (+their extra kinks!)

cw: meandom!hee, omorashi, daddy!jay, shibari, blindfolding, footjobs, bondage, petplay. degradation (whore, slut), (pussy) spanking, tit play, everyone is a freak

wc: 1.8k

a/n: this is in no way supposed to be an accurate portrayal of enhypen. if the warnings make you uncomfortable just scroll away lmfao. wrote this for my freakhoonz and my freakhoonz only (hence legal line and not just hyung line im crying)

minors dni, 18+ only.

– – –

heeseung recently discovered what omorashi is after overhearing you discuss it in great detail on a group call with your girlfriends. of course, you don’t know that he knows, so when he’s offering you an absurd amount of water the next day, you’re just thinking that he’s being such a caring boyfriend.

which, he is, of course—a caring boyfriend with an ulterior motive.

when you’ve finally made it to your bedroom after a long day with heeseung claiming “the plumbing doesn’t work, might as well kill some time, huh, baby?” you find yourself straddling his naked torso, trying to no avail to press your thighs together. 

already feeling embarrassed, you beg him for the thousandth time to let you get off him go to the bathroom, promising you’ll flush the toilet when the plumbing works again. 

“babe, please, let me go, i promise, we can play after you let me go!”

he ignores your whines in favor of asking his own question. “where does it hurt, baby?” he asks you with feigned innocence. with a finger, he pokes your own abdomen, right over where your bladder is. you flinch, which only cues him to poke you there again, even harder. a few droplets of piss squirt out from your ignored cunt.

“h-heeseung!”

“this turns you on, doesn't it?” he smirks up at you. “dirty slut.”

“n-no!”“no?” he repeats mockingly, taking hold of your hips with a firm grip and grinding you against his abs, spreading the fluid starting to leak out of you over his sweat-beaded skin. it’s downright dirty, but neither of you particularly gives a fuck. “i’ve teased you enough today, haven’t i, lovely? why don’t you go ahead and make a mess on me? let go, wanna see how nasty you are for me.”

the rest under the cut!

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿˚

— — —

jay tied you up so prettily with only the most expensive rope that’s specifically made for shibari. the material itself is pink; it’s cool and soft against your hot, flushed skin, but it’s tied so tight in a pattern that has your wrists locked tight behind your back and your tits held up, showing them off to your boyfriend. why are you tied up so cruelly like this, unable to touch your boyfriend beneath u?

well, because… you’d flirted with heeseung to make him jealous, of course.

“you touched him tonight. a little too much. so what gives you the right to touch me?” he’d growled in your ear. “you’re lucky i’m even playing with you, slut.”

“b-but—”

“shh. i don’t wanna hear you speak unless you’re apologizing to me, got it?”

obediently, your mouth stays shut until he orders you to answer him. “‘m sorry, jay.”

“jay? who’s that?”

“i’m sorry, daddy!”

he taps your hip, and you know what to do: grind your cunt on his abs.

you’re crying, incoherent babbling, unable to even beg him to let you cum because you want to prove to him that you can be a good girl for him despite the little stunt you pulled at jake’s party a few hours ago. you’ve got to be the luckiest girl in the world the way jay can’t stay mad at you for long, because he finally, finally lands a few sharp slaps on your sore cunt, saying, “cum, slut,” as he does.

and you do; you cum hard, soaking his abs until they glisten, messy with your juices.

he looks up at you with a smirk. “i’m guessing you’re going to piss me off like that again, huh?”

you smile back at him. “mm, only if it ends like this.”

— — — 

jake likes to play games. tonight, he has you blindfolded, forced to guess what body part he’s making you rub your clothed cunt against in a pathetic attempt to get off. both of you know that it just doesn’t feel as good as when his cock is nestled snugly inside your greedy hole, but he’d promised you that he’d fuck you until your eyes crossed if you just let him have this first.

“alright, puppy, sit down,” he says, his voice louder in your ears due to your sense of sight being restricted. everything else is heightened, even the scent of his cologne and the taste of his spit in your mouth.

just because you know each other’s bodies so well, you immediately call out your answer. it’s the hard bone of his knee, pushed hard against your clit to the point that it hurts a little.

“good girl… alright,” he says, adjusting himself into a different position while your hips are raised above his body. “you can sit down again.”

this one is a little more confusing because of how delirious you are with the need to have him fuck you already. there’s no fucking way he’s making you hump his fucking shin, right? frustrated, you rip off your blindfold to see his veiny forearm in between your thighs.

“needy little thing.” the thing about jake, though, is that he’s understanding. you taking your blindfold off isn’t disobedient to him so much as it is a clear display of how much you absolutely need him.

he strokes his cock to the sight of your fucked-out, drooling face, not allowing you to come near him again until he cums on his toned stomach. 

“okay, pup. come sit on me, clean up this mess with your pussy. gonna get it wet enough for me to slide right in you, hm?”

— — —

sunghoon loves you so much, he’s the type to let you try anything (within reason). so when you look at him with cute, pleading doe eyes, asking him so sweetly and shyly if you can try to ride his abs while giving him a footjob, he’s already stripped naked and lying on the bed before you can even finish your sentence.

“come on, pretty princess,” he urges you, squirming underneath your hips so he can feel your slick cunt drool all over his abs. “what’re you waiting for?”

“h-hold on, hoonie,” you mumble. you put your ankles over his thighs, fidgeting around until the soles of your feet find his hard cock. “‘s harder than i thought it would be.”

he hisses as you caress his length between your feet. “holy fuck, baby.”

“i’m gonna try moving now, okay?” you say, and he hums in agreement, taking your hands in his to help you stay balanced. he runs a reassuring thumb over yours as you start to rock your hips on him, pressing your pussy against his smooth skin. and then you feel it, his happy trail scratching gently against your clit. “aah, fuck, sunghoon!”

“sensitive little girl, aren’t you?” he coos. “keep going baby, feels so good. use me to make yourself feel good, okay?”

you nod your head obediently, wanting to be good for your loving boyfriend. as you pick up the pace, you can feel beads of precum on the soles of your feet. using this as your encouragement, you ride him harder, your tits bouncing in his face enticingly. sunghoon lets go of your hands to grab at them, kneading them in his soft palms, thumbs flicking over your nipples. this makes you cry out and squirm, your toes curling around the tip of his cock.

“fuck, princess, right there, gonna cum, oh, fuck!”

— — —

sunoo is not-so-secretly a sadist whenever he’s on top. he enjoys a bit of predicament bondage every now and then, and this is one of those times. he’s lying down on your bed, head almost dangling off the foot of it, with you straddling his bare abdomen. your back is to the headboard, where the end of your leash is wrapped around one of the bedposts. 

every time you grind forward, the leash pulls your collar tight around your neck, and when you push your hips back, the chain gives you enough slack to catch your breath.

to make matters worse, your boyfriend is stronger than you, what with him spending more and more time with his hyungs at the gym. so he controls your movements, never allowing you to loosen your collar for more than a few seconds at a time.

“grind faster, whore,” he hisses, his hand coming down to spank your ass. “or i won’t let you cum.”

“no, please,” you beg through choked gasps of air. “please, sunoo, don’t! I’ll… i’ll be good, promise!”

it truly is always the innocent-looking ones who are the nastiest. he lifts you off him briefly to reach down and pull his cock up so it rests on his lower abdomen. “there, slut, maybe humping my cock will motivate you to do what you’re told.”

holding back more tears, you cry out, “thank you, thank you! please! please, can i cum?”

“you can,” he teases. “but i’m not done with you yet.”

— — —

jungwon is your cute little nerd of a boyfriend. he might have been inexperienced, but his porn search history said otherwise. not that he was an addict or anything, but he seemed curious about a lot of things. one of the keywords that kept popping up when you were snooping on his computer was petplay.

so imagine his surprise when he comes over to your apartment to find you in the bedroom dressed in a tiny crop top and skirt combo, topped off with… bunny ears.

immediately, at the sight of you, you can see a tent form in his baggy sweatpants. you beckon him over to your bed and order him to undress and lie down.

“y-you’re…you’re a pretty bunny,” he stutters out, his hands immediately reaching to cup your ass.

you nod, making the little bells on your bunny ear headband chime along with your movements. “mhmm. seems like my baby likes it?” you purr in his ear, starting to rock your hips along the hard lines of his abs.

“i d-do.”

“mm. i thought i’d do something nice for you, since you’ve been working so hard lately.”

he whimpers, hands fumbling around you. you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when you feel your panties being ripped off you. “wonie, what—”

out of impatience, he shoves you down his abs so roughly that his cock, lubed up from all the precum he’s been leaking, slips into you, making you scream in surprise. “nngh, fuck, bunny, ‘m sorry, i couldn’t help myself!”

you guess you’ll edge him another time.

– – –

taglist: (literally just freakhoonz lmfao) @karinasbaby @enha-stars @intromortal @heeslomll @venomhee

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head. 

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.” 

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze. 

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks. 

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.” 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast. 

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes. 

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.” 

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you. 

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now. 

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence. 

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you. 

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right. 

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress. 

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect. 

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made. 

Nest. 

You’re nesting again. 

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-” 

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize. 

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs. 

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances. 

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher. 

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”  

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs. 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin. 

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs. 

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache. 

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers. 

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in. 

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress. 

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap. 

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his. 

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words. 

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.” 

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.” 

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself. 

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea. 

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you. 

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs. 

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans. 

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even. 

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked. 

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you. 

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega. 

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.” 

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon. 

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move. 

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you. 

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock. 

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand. 

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!” 

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm. 

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices. 

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp. 

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac. 

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to? 

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything. 

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay. 

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door. 

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted. 

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head. 

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him. 

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision. 

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet. 

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.” 

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.” 

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs. 

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment. 

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.” 

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity. 

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.” 

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.” 

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.” 

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur. 

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.” 

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep. 

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you. 

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still. 

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would. 

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images. 

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly. 

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.” 

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed. 

“What are you going to get?” You ask. 

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply. 

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.” 

He snorts. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!” 

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest. 

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask. 

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours. 

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all. 

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all. 

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” 

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs. 

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side. 

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you. 

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.” 

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.” 

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves. 

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours. 

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you. 

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room. 

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin. 

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core. 

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you. 

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!” 

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot. 

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.” 

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall. 

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you. 

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise. 

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. 

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired. 

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious. 

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment. 

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side. 

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads. 

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames. 

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed. 

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again. 

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower. 

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again. 

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training. 

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head. 

He didn’t change his shirt. 

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you. 

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look. 

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening. 

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face. 

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.” 

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.” 

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you. 

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.” 

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him. 

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?” 

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork. 

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray. 

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete. 

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor? 

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do. 

But he didn’t. 

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s. 

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he. 

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do. 

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s. 

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship. 

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him. 

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes. 

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.” 

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway. 

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air. 

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.” 

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?” 

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete. 

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.” 

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM. 

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.” 

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room. 

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass. 

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you. 

Fuck this is going to be a long training session. 

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either. 

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp. 

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.” 

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.” 

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you. 

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal. 

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been. 

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat. 

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?” 

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings. 

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!” 

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache. 

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth. 

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!” 

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release. 

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit. 

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief. 

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud. 

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to. 

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly. 

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.” 

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance. 

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him. 

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you. 

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you. 

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.” 

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise. 

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.” 

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.” 

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand. 

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room. 

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs. 

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body. 

And that was only with his fingers. 

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin. 

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet. 

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again. 

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear. 

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.” 

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.” 

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.” 

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much. 

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive. 

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.” 

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.” 

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.” 

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds. 

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door. 

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?” 

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another. 

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you. 

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism. 

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.” 

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.” 

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book. 

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.” 

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Yes, sir.” You respond. 

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.” 

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up. 

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes. 

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it. 

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire. 

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth. 

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched. 

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause. 

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why. 

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him. 

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.” 

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists. 

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.” 

“What if I can’t stop?” 

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.” 

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow. 

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” 

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before. 

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. 

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin. 

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice. 

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.” 

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh. 

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor. 

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits. 

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.” 

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple. 

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head. 

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass. 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do. 

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?” 

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed. 

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you. 

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips. 

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him. 

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her. 

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. 

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel. 

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea. 

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud. 

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.” 

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water. 

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you. 

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind. 

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door. 

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up. 

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues. 

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you. 

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot. 

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed. 

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again. 

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor. 

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach. 

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way. 

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment. 

You hadn't even been naked then. 

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are. 

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight. 

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand. 

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier. 

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back. 

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks. 

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.” 

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone. 

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him. 

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.” 

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in. 

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.” 

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot. 

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going. 

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release. 

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.” 

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long. 

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.” 

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.  

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock. 

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room. 

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week. 

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal. 

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood. 

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.” 

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm. 

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.” 

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress. 

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure. 

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper. 

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt. 

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy. 

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass. 

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted. 

He’s not Simon anymore. 

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out. 

“Alpha!” 

NEXT ->

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[wishful-seeker]

Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist

1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.

Example:

Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."

Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"

This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.

Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."

Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"

This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.

Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.

To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.

2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.

For example:

Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"

Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."

Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making YOU uncomfortable?

3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."

Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."

This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.

4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.

For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.

5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.

6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"

Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"

Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.

7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.

For example:

Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."

Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"

This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

[writingangst]

Russian Roulette

Summary: Simon Riley takes notice that the reader has a specific way of reloading her gun, which results in him being paranoid to the point he misreads the situation.

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Warnings: violence, angst, cursing, torture, hurt/no comfort.

Words: 2.3K

This was a prompt from Character.AI by user @/kstzii and I had to make this account to post because it really hit the angst spot for me. Hopefully, it does the same for you.

The echo from your sniper rifle was stifled by its silencer as you scored another bullseye. You felt someone's gaze burn into the back of your head. But once you turned, you couldn't see anyone. Must've been my imagination. You reassured yourself as you went back to attempt another shot. No bullets. You quickly reload and reposition yourself to fire off another round.

“What the hell was that?” Your lieutenant's voice called out. You swiftly turned to him. “Reload again.”

“What?” You were caught off guard, the slight hint of a Russian accent slipping out. Shit. You instantly clear your throat to switch back to your usual British accent.

“Are you deaf? I said reload again!” He repeats, his voice booming.

You rearange yourself from your position lying on your stomach, onto your knees, the head of your riffle touching the dirt beneath you. You look at him through slightly narrowed eyes. “Now, why would I reload when I just switched to a perfectly good mag?”

His jaw clenched. You noticied how he was trying to hold himself back. He did this often. You were sharp with your tongue and tended to use it on him often. In more ways than one. Though this time, he didn’t quite seem like he was enjoying it.

“You know exactly what I mean. That was a Russian reload,” he crossed his arms over his chest, the veins in his arms were prominent. It brought you back… No. This was serious.

You laughed it off, seeming unbothered. You were cool. Calm. Collected. Everyone knew you weren’t one to be thrown off your game easily. But this certainley was doing just that. You weren’t about to let him see that though.

With a scoff, you turn your back to him to get a better hold of your gun. “I reckon you haven’t slept, Lieutenant. Could be playing tricks on your sight.”

“I know exactly what I saw,” his tone was cold, but with his clenched fists you knew this was a ticking time bomb. “Do. It. Again.” He ordered in a firm tone. It left no room for any arguments.

You’re stagnant only slightly. There was uneasiness in your stomach at what this could mean. You knew Simon, and you knew Ghost. This was the latter, but you weren’t going to let this play out the way he wanted it to.

“And if not?” You challenge as you turned towards him, eyes sincere as you looked deep into his conflicted ones. “This gonna end in friendly fire?”

In long strides he stepped forward, coming to a halt right in front of you. He pulled you up by your elbow, but you never lost your grip on your weapon. With him being 6’4, you had to crane your neck to look him in the eye. His towering frame was imposing, making you feel small.

He leaned closer, just like he had so many times before. His body only a few inches from yours, but instead of it having the burning effect it usually did, now you were just feeling uncomfortable with the interaction. He was doing this on purpose. He was trying to intimidate you.

“What do you have to lose?” He countered, his voice low, a rumble to his chest.

You took it as a challenge.

With a clenched jaw, you took a step back from him as he severed his grip on your skin. You rid of the magazine wedged within your sniper and your eyes never leave his as you do so. Taking another mag from your tactical gear, you shift to do a simple tactical reload.

He watched you intently, his eyes glued to your every move. You didn’t break a single swet. And even though it seemed like something inherently intimate, you knew it was everything but. Once you finished and kept your straight face on him, he stepped towards you again.

He looked pissed as his eyes flickered to the mag that you just placed into your gun.

“That…” he stated through gritted teeth, gripping your chin with force between his thumb and his forefinger. You were forced to look at him head on. “…isn’t a British reload. Now tell me, who are you really?”

“I’m a simple sniper, sir,” you reply without skipping so much as a beat. “I was chosen for this task because of my outstanding sniper skills.”

Silence ensued.

Then you continued. “But you knew that already. You read my file,” you hissed back at him. “And you’ve trained with me for months, been in my bed, so what exactly are we implying here, Lieutenant?”

He kept his grip on your chin, his fingers digging into your skin. You noticed how he continued to get frustrated that nothing was out in the open like he previously thought it was. He expected you to be defiant, not secretive. A piece was missing and he was paranoid. Something wasn’t right.

Suddently, you’re smashed against the closest tree and your rifle was hitting the ground. You wince as a gruff pained noise falls from your lips once the air is knocked out of you. His vast hand squeezed your neck. Not enough to cut your air supply. Yet. But enough for it to be uncomfortable to breath. There was a sense of betrayal in his eyes and you knew he had assumed the worst.

“You’re a lying Russian spy,” he murmured into your ear with such force you thought you’d faint.

You struggled against him. “I am not Russian, nor am I a spy,” you rasp out as best you can, but you feel him crushing your windpipe. You wouldn’t lie to yourself. You feel hurt. He was one of the closest people you had since joining the 141 task force. Which made you angry. That’s when hurt vacated to make room for the feeling of deception. “But I will not explain myself to you when I have a job to do.”

You attempted to push him off but he was stronger and bulkier than you, making it almost impossible. You understood there that there would be no reasoning with him. Sleep deprivation and high stress levels were obvious indicators of this. You both had been on the field for days, and he had been the one doing most of the lookouts in order for you to get a bit of shuteye. You won’t be a good shot with heavy lids, sweetheart. He once said to you.

“What were you sent to do, huh?” He asked, his voice had lost its edge and now he just sounded distant. “Spy? Assassinate me?”

“Paranoid motherfucker,” you hissed, holding onto his forearm to steady yourself against his grip. “Screw you.”

His eyes narrowed, his grip loosening only slightly. “You sound surprised. You can’t honestly tell me that you expected me to not investigate the mysterious sniper with a Russian reload and accent?”

“And I’m almost certain you couldn’t find a Goddamn thing about anything and that’s why you got me cornered,” you stated as a matter of fact. “I’m not whoever the hell you think I am, and this paranoia is serving to have this mission go south if you don’t let me get to my gun.”

He laughed this time. Honestly, laughed.

You scrunched up your nose. Fuck you, Ghost.

“You don’t think I have dirt on you, sweetheart? I have files on you, more than you can count. I know you, better than you think,” he paused for a second. “I know your weaknesses, likes, dislikes. Everything.”

You laugh bitterly. “I don’t doubt that. Hey, I even had a hand in the shit you know because I trusted you. That still doesn’t mean you know jack shit about what happened in Russia. You’re so inclined? Ask Price!”

“I asked Price!” His hand gave your neck a quick squeeze and you saw how his body trembled. “He didn’t know a damn thing. Said your file was locked and he was denied access. Now why the hell would that be, huh?”

You snorted. “He said that to protect me. I had the whole record wiped. None of this concerns you, Lieutenant. We all went through shit, and you think you’re the only one that’s allowed to be a ghost? Fuck you!”

His eyes narrowed at your words. “Why would he protect you if you have nothing to hide? That makes no sense and you know it.”

“Because my trauma is my trauma! And you have no business budding into it!” 

“And if it’s something that could jeopardize the entire task force?” He muttered, his patience wearing thin. “If it could get everyone killed?”

“You’re an idiot if you think Price would let me anywhere near this damn task force if he considered me a risk,” your voice was cool, but your heart was thumping in your chest. You attempting one last shove that surprisingly caused him to let go. You wheezed when the pressure was off your trachea and you coughed to catch your breath. 

He watched you silently.

Once you composed yourself, you looked back at him as you held your neck. “I thought we were fucking friends, Ghost.”

“Friends?!” He spat exasperatedly. “You really think I would consider you my friend when I know you’re lying? You think I make friends with people I don’t trust?” His eyes were cold, his tone cruel and bitter. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet between your eyes for the simple deceit.”

Aside from the pain emitting from your neck, there was a hollow ache in your chest that was capturing your attention as well. You would relive the trauma if that would mean getting the job done. But when it came to Simon Riley, he was as good as dead to you.

“I was held hostage by Russian forces for 18 months.”

His stance faltered at that. You don’t think you had ever seen him lose his footing like he had in that instance. And his eyes… Christ, he had never changed his expression so fast. What the hell was that? Pity? He could go screw himself.

You continued. “Anything you can think of in torture, triple that. What kept me alive for so long was the fact they wanted to use me. The only way I got out of the constant abuse was the training. So excuse me if I picked up on a thing or two. Even the Godawful accent that creeps into the British one,” you cleared your throat. “I’m not your enemy, Ghost. But you’re right. I’m not your damn friend either.”

As you explained your past, his eyes never left yours as he listened carefully. He expected many things, but he hadn’t taken into consideration you being a literal prisoner to Russian forces. For once in his life, he was speechless. The thought that you had lived through a year and a half of torture at the hands of the Russians was something he could barely imagine.

His gaze had softened, but he hardened again when something wasn’t clicking for him. “Doesn’t explain why your file is locked.”

You snorted humorlessly. “Ever heard of Price’s little sister?”

His eyes widened at the mention of her. The captain was hush hush about the matter, but it was a well known fact he had family within the military. And that she was KIA some time ago. “What about her?”

“You’re looking at her.”

Those were the last words he expected to come out of your mouth. Shock and surprise flashed behind his mask as he finally realized what this meant.

“You’re…” He paused, trying to process the bomb that just exploded in his face. “You’re Price’s sister?”

“In the flesh,” you replied with the same cold tone he had been using earlier with you. “You’re not the only one trying to be ghost. You’ve just never been questioned by the task force on it like you just did to me.” 

What could he say to that?

“I took a bullet for you, Lieutenant,” you reminded him. “What fucking spy does that for the opposite team?”

His jaw clenched and you saw how his mask flexed due to it. His eyes showed how he replayed that memory in his head. It was something he thought about constantly. You had saved him, and he hadn’t seen it coming. He had been so focused on you being a spy that he hadn’t stopped to consider that you were actually on his side.

“I never should have questioned you,” he admitted, his voice quiet as he met your gaze again.

Your hand shot up to stop him from saying anything else on the matter. “It’s done. We’re done here.”

He watched as you walked away to pick up your gun, his mind racing with thoughts but they were too fast for his tongue. He knew he had messed up. He had completely misjudged the situation with the accusations thrown at you when in reality your connection to the task force was stronger than even his.

The irony in the situation wasn’t lost on him, but he didn’t find it funny.

“Wait,” He sighed, taking strides to catch up to you.

“This is unprofessional, Lieutenant,” you stated, dusting off your weapon as you checked for any malfunctions. “We’re in the middle of an active operation. I’m done talking.”

He exhaled a frustrated sigh as you dismissed his attempt at talking to you. He knew you were right, that the mission was what mattered now. But he couldn’t help the feeling that he needed to apologize. It was clawing at his chest, the emotion raw in his throat, asking to be let out in word vomit.

“You can’t honestly expect us to just ignore what happened and continue on like normal?”

Silence followed.

You didn’t even look at him.

“Go back to being Ghost, because Simon Riley is fucking dead to me.”

[creatingblackcharacters]

“Why’s she so rude?” (She’s Not)- Stereotypes, pt2

So I'm sure that you all thought I was going to give a blow-by-blow list of "visual stereotypes to avoid". I'm going to be honest here, I thought about it, and figured it would be redundant. My page already includes sensitivity on depicting Black people. So instead, I'm going to focus on stereotypical "character" concepts, so that you can 1) not write it in your stories and/or 2) recognize it in media (fiction and reality!) and in life!

Two major resources: the Jim Crow Museum website is an EXCELLENT resource to understand the imagery of antiblack racism in U.S. history and society. The other, White Tears, Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad. The book focuses on the many racist stereotypes projected onto women of color and how that purposeful, systemic negative perception of us bleeds into every aspect of our lives- specifically by white women/white feminists who believe that they are not contributing to said oppression.

I'll start with Black women, just because I’m passionate about it (obviously) and there are so many things I wish I had and hadn’t seen growing up. We deserve better by the year of our lord 2024.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mention of sexual assault, assault

Misogynoir

What I want everyone to understand, before I get into this, is the concept of intersectionality, and more specifically, misogynoir. Misogynoir is the specific type of contempt and prejudice that Black women face at the intersection of race and gender. I say this because you might read these things and go “oh, as a woman, I experience these things!” I get it, but I want you to PAUSE, and remember, that right now, we are talking about Black women’s experiences. And those will often be different, due to that intersection of identities. And that understanding will have an effect on how you understand (and thus, write) those experiences.

The Jezebel

The link goes into much deeper detail, but the Jezebel is the idea that a Black woman or girl who is sexual is somehow “fast”, “salacious”, “a hoe”, “driven by desire/doesn’t understand purity”, and at its worst, unable to be r*ped/a victim because she is less valuable yet somehow inherently seductive to men.

This gets thrown around CONSTANTLY in media and life for Black women (my first experience of treated like I was ‘fast’ was when I was like… twelve?) One major, visible example is Megan Thee Stallion. Meg has a college degree, she likes anime, she’s a brilliant rapper, and has an entire personality and struggles she’s shared… But she also likes to dress scantily clad and have sex. By doing those things, she ‘lessened in value’. And because of this, when she was shot at and assaulted, even Black people questioned her character, rather than understanding that she could have been anyone, and she still wouldn’t have deserved to be assaulted. She's not allowed to be multi-faceted; she "brought it on herself".

Black girls and women who happen to take charge of their own sexuality, to the discomfort of society, are treated as Jezebels- as whores. Think about it- if one of Taylor Swift's recent boyfriends shot at her, would the media question her value or her word? Question her equivalently high ‘body count’?

Question how you write your Black woman- she can enjoy sex! She can be sexy! We love to see it! But if you're punishing her specifically, or judging her within the narrative, versus your other characters who are allowed to safely explore and act upon their sexuality… Check your judgment! Why do you feel the way you do about this character? Why do you think that your Black character is the one that should be judged for her actions. Would you feel this way if it were a nonblack character?

The Sapphire/Angry Black Woman

Ohohoho, I have infinite amounts of feelings about this one.

This is the "sassy Black friend", the "aggressive Black boss", “step on me angry mommy”, the one who does the z formation and makes everyone "uncomfortable". She’s not allowed to be confident, assertive, or self-assured- she’s arrogant, rude, and aggressive.

I discussed it in part one, but I'll reemphasize it: your Black woman doesn't have to be an ‘Angry Black Woman’ in order to be angry! Just like any other human being on the planet, we are allowed to be mad. (In my honest opinion, we have a lot to be mad about, but I digress 😅)

If the only character that ever gets angry is your Black character, I want you to consider why. What is she angry at? Was this something you wanted the reader to understand or empathize with? Are we supposed to disagree? How does everyone around her treat her anger? Is her anger righteous? Is she always shut down or dismissed for it? Is it only meant to defend her friends, but never herself? Does the narrative suggest that it’s only good in use of others and not herself? Would this be the same reaction if one of the nonblack characters was angry? Is this something you did on purpose?

Very often, we're called 'angry Black women/girls' to invalidate our emotions. My therapist once said anger is a protective emotion. We might be hurt, overstimulated, sad, depressed, frightened, anxious… But we are often not allowed the grace of others digging deeper to see that. Even if the other characters do not understand her anger, even if her motives are not meant to be understood at the moment… you as the writer should be aware. But if every time it’s time to show anger or upset, it’s your Black character… consider why this is the one you thought would best convey that message, and how your Black readers might feel seeing that this character (who may not even be the ‘bad guy’) is the one that is ‘only’ angry. No other development, no other emotions, just… there to be mad.

I take this one to heart, as someone who feels very passionately about things… this is one of those things where I wish, in life and in media, people would have more grace for Black women. We're human, too. We have feelings, too.

The Mammy

This one isn’t as visually blatant anymore in media as it was in the past (like every Mammy doesnt look like Aunt Jemima), but you may have seen this one as "the mommy figure". The "lesbian that parents the silly gay boys". The one that’s always encouraging the ship of the white boys, but never the one allowed to be in the ship (especially when her ship is canon!)

A good example of this was how people expected Jessica Drew from ATSV to be "more loving" to Gwen, rather than the mentor and boss she was (plus, as a Black woman with a Black mother… trust and believe, she was quite direct and gentle). And in comparison to her counterpart, white man Peter B. Parker, was decried far worse for similar detrimental actions.

The Mammy often serves in opposition to the Jezebel and Sapphire/Angry Black Woman. What makes the Mammy particularly annoying is that it implies that the only good Black woman character is a ‘nice’, demure, unthreatening, homely, motherly figure whose job it is to make sure to center the (usually) white ones. The Mammy is expected to coddle everyone, to her own detriment. She's a ‘good Black’ because she causes no issue, raises no fuss, never shows a negative feeling, knows that she has to ‘be strong’ but to always defer because the white characters know best. She’s ‘not a threat’, and that’s why she’s ‘allowed’ to be around. We shouldn’t have to be those things in order for our stories to be heard and understood, in order to be empathized with or treated like someone of value.

The Strong Black Woman

If I never hear this phrase again in my life, if we eradicate it from future generations for Black girls and women, I'll cry of joy lmao. I hate it, and it's not for the reasons most nonblack people would expect. Lord, this one. Anyway. The ‘strong Black woman’ is meant to protect everyone, no help needed! Whenever something is wrong and we all need a pickup, here she comes to ‘let me do it’ and everything is going to be okay! She did all the necessary suffering so that your characters don't have to! She can sweep in and save the day!

Now here's the dissonance kicks in. This one on its surface probably sounds like a good thing. She's a hero! She’s resilient! She's great! Who wouldn't want to be superwoman? Who wouldn't want to reject being a love interest, all women are always love interests! Let us be the badass that kicks ass and shows the men what for! Who wouldn’t want that, 24/7?!

The answer: US. 👍🏾🤣

This is a long, separate conversation on its own, but we have to understand that Black women (women of color, really) and White women do not always share the same end goals and understanding of "strong woman character" or even feminism. We certainly aren't always the love interest. Very usually not, in fact. We are always pushed to the side. We are already the hero in our lives, we're already the "strong woman".

Not everyone yearns to be the Singular Hero who will Fix It All as many of us are already expected to do. It's exhausting having to swallow your own needs for everyone else all the time, especially when it's suggested that you have no value otherwise if you don't. Heroism is Exhausting, and it's something worth looking into when you’re characterizing your Black girls and women. I’m not saying that we can’t be strong! We are, and it’s impressive! But I also want us to add some nuance to that strength, the way we would for any other character. What it means to have community, rather than to do it all alone. How even if she wants to be the hero (and that’s okay! That’s fine!) how it would still wear on her. Surrounding your Black girl character with unconditional support, to have a lover that actually wants to pull some weight- that's something many of us actually would like to see, because we're usually shafted to the side as 'someone who can do it all herself' (in order to hide that no one thinks we need or are deserving of the help).

It's okay to let your Black woman and girls show weakness, to rest, to be taken care of! It's not "less feminist" to accept that we're humans that need help and can't carry it all, too. That it’s okay to want to feel valued and protected. Because god knows, I wish I didn’t grow up strong and resilient, I wish I grew up knowing that the world cared that I was safe.

Standards of Beauty

These standards are not the same! I've mentioned it before in my lesson on skin tones, but very often when we think of "beauty", it’s easy to fall into the idea of whiteness. Pale skin, thin hair textures, etc. If those are our existing standards of beauty, then it doesn’t matter what any of us look like- we’re ugly! When I was in high school, I remember a classmate saying that Swedish people were the most beautiful people because of "white hair and pale skin". Without even meaning to, that guy basically said everyone darker than a stack of loose leaf printer paper was ugly by proxy of not being Nordic White (no matter how pretty they actually might be!!) 🤣

It’s also of note that whiteness/paleness tends to be connected with innocence and cleanliness in western culture, while blackness/darkness tends to be considered dirty, sinful, fearful. Now, while the origin of this idea may not be racist itself, when you spend hundreds of years implying that Blackness is bad- to the point that, in the U.S. they came up with an entire slur one step past “negro” (meaning ‘Black’) to deem you less than- it’s hard to say that the societal connotation didn’t apply.

Now we've already discussed working on describing our Black characters better! I continually remind you all that you should be describing them as wonderfully made as you do your white characters. Keep in mind that we live in a world where from day one when we enter the world, Blackness and Black features are not seen as beautiful nor emphasized. Whiteness is the standard of beauty that we, for a long time and still, are expected to adhere to. If you'd like to do better by your characters, remember that you don't have to give them "white features" or use "white" as an adjective to do that!

Black Women as Women

“There was literally nothing, not a thing, that a white woman could ever have that was worth more than her sexual virtue, and this obligated mandatory chasteness and sexual vulnerability… If the most important thing a woman has is virtue, and only white women can have virtue, then by definition, only white women can be women.” Ruby Hamad, ‘Only White Women Can Be Damsels’, White Tears, Brown Scars

Often, Black women by definition are not included under the societal banner of “women”, from our features, to our personalities, to our 'role' in life. "True Womanhood" is denied us, cis and trans, because of our Blackness. The things that make women ‘women’, we are not included under, because systemically, the only ‘women’ that were meant to mean anything were white.

I bring up Megan Thee Stallion again. Meg is probably one of the most beautiful, feminine women I've ever seen in my life. Men still call her a man, due to her height, due to her confidence, and due to their insecurities. Same with Serena Williams; Serena is damn near built like a god in my eyes. She was told she was manly from the beginning of her career, no matter how beyond skilled she was in women's tennis. Even when she damn near died giving birth- the most basic of 'tasks' women are seen as having in this society, it didn't matter. Black women are 'less womanly', 'less valuable', 'less in need' of that protection and identity that society swears Women™ need (and not in the honest way that we do need protection).

Consider that you're making sure that your Black women have the options of range of gender expression and emotions (and if they aren't allowed to, is that on purpose). If you're only ever creating us and we're in service of some dainty white woman and never the other way around... consider how that may reflect what you think our role is in your story, and in your mind.

Adultification

“Awkward moment when Rue is some black girl and not the innocent blond girl you imagine.” twitter: sw4q

It has been shown that Black girls the same age as their white girl counterparts are deemed older and less in need of protection, and supposed to 'be more mature'. Imagine that. Deemed inherently less innocent, due to your skin color. Having to parent our siblings, get jobs to contribute, do all the cleaning, and more. Yet, when we act with the maturity that we've been forced to grow into, we're "fast". A little 12-year-old girl, now to society, the Jezebel. All because she wanted to try pink lip gloss or wear a skirt; things that little tween girls might try to understand the big world around them and push boundaries. Now she's a woman, now she can never be a victim. Now she can be beat on and hurt and it's her fault.

I explain this for two reasons: One, for you to think about how your write your Black girls, and Two, for you to hold more grace for Black girls- real and fake. Do you hold her to a higher standard than your white characters of similar age? Does she inherently seem less innocent to you for reasons outside the plot? Is she as human to you as your other characters? Is she allowed to be a child? To act like one? To make mistakes? Are you as empathetic or understanding about that childishness as you are towards nonblack characters? Do you make these decisions on purpose?

It's not like Black girls can never be YA protags or anything- ofc we can. But keep in mind that she's not somehow automatically "stronger" by proxy of her Blackness, that she'd "be tougher". She's a kid. Let her be one.

Conclusion

There’s a LOT you have to consider when writing Black girls and women. I’m not going to sit here and say it’s easy, because being Black, and being a Black woman, is not easy. If you’re stressed reading it, imagine being stressed living it lmao. It’s a constant chain of quick-time events every day of your life to prevent nonblack nuclear meltdown in response to your every single action. I’m not going to apologize for it, either.

That being said, I don’t expect you to understand everything, especially not all at once. I just want you all to keep these things in mind, to question yourself when you’re writing your character- are you treating her differently on purpose? Or are you treating her differently because of a bias you might not even notice you have? It might help to go back, to read how you treat all of your characters. Or, if you’ve never written before, to maybe outline the traits of your characters and figure out where things balance out. As always, all you can do is practice at it. Because it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers.

Whew, I'm actually emotionally strained after this one. My chest is beating fast. Let me go get some groceries now.

[coldfanbou]

The First One is On The House

Ningning fic once again a challenge given by @i-am-lifeform24

Length 2K

Ningning X Mreader

“Hello? Yes, I can fit her into my schedule. I should have an opening at 7. Later? I guess I could take her in after the show. Alright, I look forward to her visit.” You put the phone back on the receiver and walked back to the table; you were so looking forward to going home early for the evening when you got a call from that customer. You would've preferred taking the appointment for another day, but you wanted to keep your weekend free. You sit back in your office chair and stare at the ceiling before gazing at the clock hanging on the wall. Three hours, that’s how long you’d have to wait for your guest to arrive. 

Getting bored, you pulled out your phone and checked social media, seeing posts from stars from earlier in the day as they walked the red carpet for some fashion event nearby. You see a few of your usual clientele post pictures, liking them before moving on. Eventually, you get tired of that and begin some repetitive tasks, trying to seem busy as you wait for the client to arrive despite them arriving a couple of hours from now. 

Soon enough, you went back to looking at your phone, checking out photos from the event, and seeing the different kinds of people that went. You stopped on a picture of Ningning from the group Aespa when you heard the door open. It was your friend, a manager for various groups. “Sorry for getting here late. She just felt so tired during the show, and we thought it best to call you.”

“Just who is it? That they needed a massage so desperately? I could’ve had a nice evening for myself.”  

Your friend stands aside, letting his gues walk forward. “I’m sorry for making you stay late.” You recognize the woman as she bows her head; it’s Ningning. She was still in the same clothes you had seen in the picture a moment ago, a revealing short black dress that clung to her body.

You wave her off as you refocus. “It’s fine. Just prepare for the massage. I’m going to talk to your manager a bit.” You point the small woman toward a changing room and look back toward your friend. 

You see him heading out the door before you can say anything. “I’m going to get some food. I’ll be back in an hour.” 

“Hey!” The door shuts, and you’re left alone again. You head toward the window and watch him walk toward a nearby restaurant, shaking your head. “I’m gonna talk that guy's head off when he comes back.”

A small voice catches your attention, “I’m ready.” You turn back around to see Ningning covering herself with the towel provided. “Where did my manager go?”

“He went to go eat across the street. Anyway, please follow me.” You lead Ningning into one of the massage rooms and have her lie face down on the table. “I hope the clothing in there wasn’t too tight. I’m going to move the towel down now.” Ningning nods her head.

You move it down slowly, revealing the tan bra that was provided to all female guests who would rather not be naked. It was thick and padded, meant to be comfortable. Your eyes move down her back, noting her flawless skin. You lather your hands in an unscented oil, rubbing it in between your fingers before placing your hands on her lower back. You apply slight pressure on her back, dragging your thumbs away from the center of her body. “Did you have a good time at the fashion show?” 

“It was alright, but the chairs were so uncomfortable. My body started to ache from sitting in them.” 

“I see. Is there anywhere that aches specifically?” 

“I mean, my butt hurts,” Ningning says with a laugh. You just nod along, creating an awkward atmosphere. You kick yourself for not laughing at her joke. Continuing the massage, you move your way up her back, reaching her shoulder. You could feel the tension in them and increase your strength as you began to massage all the knots out. Ningning groans as she feels your hands dig into her shoulders and release the tension in them. “Ooh, that feels so good.” You focus your efforts on Ningning shoulders, and once they relax, you take a step back. 

“I’ll be moving down now.”

“That’s fine,” Ningning moans as she places her head on top of her hands. You move the towel up slightly, keeping her ass covered as you begin to work on her thighs. As you ran your hands across them, you could feel the toned muscles underneath. Working on the one nearest to you, you give her thigh a strong squeeze.

Feeling your hands move across her thighs, Ningning feels her body getting warmer. She used her hands to cover her mouth, struggling to keep her groans from filling the room. Your hands felt good; Ningning could feel a growing wetness between her legs as your finger brushed against the inside of her thigh. Her cheeks begin to turn red as you switch to the other side, starting the process over again. When you accidentally squeeze her thigh a bit too hard, Ningning couldn’t hide her moan—letting the long, smooth sound of her voice fill the room before catching herself. She buries her head in her hands, too embarrassed to look anywhere in the room. You try to ignore it and continue on.

Needing Ningning to turn onto her back, you finally speak up, “Ningning, I finished with your backside; I need you to turn over.”

“O-okay,” She turns herself over slowly, glancing your way. You began to massage her arms, and as you got to her shoulders, you noticed Ningning continually glancing at you.  Nearing her chest, Ningning groaned again. She rubbed her legs together, growing more aroused as your hands glided along her body. Moving down to her legs, you noticed the wet spot between Ningning’s legs, and she knew it too.

You tried to ignore it, but Ningning continued to rub her legs together as you tried to massage her. “I…I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. We’ll just stop here.”

Ningning grabs your hand. “Wait!” She let go briefly before grabbing your hand again. “I-is there any other services you offer?” You understand what she means. Ningning’s voice grew smaller as she went on. “I mean, I see in videos that sometimes masseurs offer special services. Is that an option here?” You were about to reply when Ningning placed your hand on her breast. I can pay you. I-my body just feels really good when you touch it.”

You had to admit that Ningning was a beautiful woman that you’d be lucky to have sex with, and you considered your options. You look at the clock on the wall; half an hour has passed. Knowing your friend, he’d likely be going for seconds right about now and want to take his time getting back. “Alright.” Ningning gives you a soft smile and lets go of your hand. You place it over her slit, the briefs she was wearing keeping your away. Still, it was enough to make her groan. Like the bra provided, the briefs were meant to keep customers more comfortable. Ningning stares at you with lustful eyes as she squirms on the table.  You snake your hand under the briefs and drench your fingers in her nectar as you slide your hands along her slit. Feeling your fingers touch her sends Ningning over the edge; you watch her toes curls and eyes shut as she cums at that moment. “I’m sorry. It’s my first time,” She mumbles.

“I…figured.” You reply as you begin pulling down the briefs. Ningning covered her face, her shyness taking over. You turn her body towards you before dropping your pants. Ningning’s eyes become glued to your growing bulge. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“It just looks so big.” Her comment makes you chuckle. You pull down your underwear, revealing your cock to the young woman. She reaches toward it without uttering a word; you feel her soft hand wrap around the tip. “It’s so warm…”

“So you’ve used toys?”

“...yes,” She says shamefully. 

“It’s natural, Ningning. No need to be ashamed, but let’s see how the real thing compares.” You tell her as you take a step forward and rub the tip of your cock against her slit. Ningning whimpers and stares at your cock as it runs along her cunt. You lean in, kissing her neck softly as you push your head against her cunt. She wraps her arms around you, holding you closely as she begins to fill the room with her moans. You feel her walls squeezing your cock as you push inside of her. 

“Ahh, hold on,” Ningning moans, her hands gripping your shirt. You stop moving, giving her time to adjust. You pepper her with kisses as you wait, softly squeezing her body. “You can move now.”

You push more of your cock into Ningning, watching her expression carefully. You see her shut her eyes and moan as you bury yourself inside her. Her walls are tightly wrapped around your cock, rubbing against the head. You begin thrusting slowly, holding onto her hips to keep her in place. Each thrust brings out more moans from Ningning.

The small woman holds you tightly, wrapping her legs around you as you thrust deeply into her. You could feel Ningning’s walls tighten around your cock, as she neared another climax. “I’m cumming again,” She whimpered. “I’m going to cum.”

You speed up your thrusts, making her cry out from pleasure. You feel her thighs squeeze your sides as she cums. You continue thrusting into Ningning, making her let out a high-pitched whine. Each one was driving her crazy as you overstimulate her. You force your tongue into her mouth as her eyes roll into the back of her head. 

Ningning’s arms lose strength. Falling onto her back, Ningning lets out weak moans. You revel in the feeling of her walls clamping down on your cock. When you feel your orgasm coming, you begin to slow down. You pull out entirely and turn Ningning onto her stomach. You press your cock against her cunt, holding onto her waist with one hand. You ram the length of your cock back inside the petite woman, slipping in with ease. As you drive your cock in and out of Ningning, you watch her ass bounce as it slaps against your body. “You’re so tight, Ningning. I’m getting pretty close to cumming.”

“Cum…” Ningning mumbles as her head bobs with every thrust. You feel yourself getting closer. Your hands dig into Ningning’s flesh. 

“Where do you want it?” You ask as you ram your cock deep into her cunt. Ningning doesn’t respond to the question, only repeating the word cum. You make the quick decision to pull out, knowing it would only cause trouble if she got pregnant. You pull out at the last moment, painting her back as you spurt cum onto her. Ningning feels the warm cum hit her back, groaning as her mind slowly returns to her. 

You check the clock; your friend should be back in a few minutes. You grab a few towels and wipe the cum off Ningning's back. “Your manager is going to be coming back soon. You better get changed.” 

“Manager?” Ningning slowly blinks as she realizes. He’ll be coming back soon. She struggles to stand up, and you’re forced to help her get into the changing room while you clean up. You wait by the entrance for her manager to show up, and soon enough, he appears. 

“I’m back.” He says with a burp. “Where’s Ningning?”

“You really didn’t hold back on eating, did ya? Did you get me anything?”

“Uh, no, sorry.” Ningning steps out of the changing room looking like she did when she first stepped foot inside, the only difference being her slightly frazzled hair. “Oh, there you are.”

“Sorry for the wait. I struggled with the heels.” 

“That’s okay. Let’s get you back to the dorms. Thanks for dealing with her.” Ningning nods her head and follows her manager out the door, picking up a business card before giving you a wink and leaving.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes Chapter 6

masterpost

“Have you experienced events that could be described as fatal?” Danny read from his notebook. Before Jason could answer he continued, “Do you know the name and species of all your progenitors? Have you ever wondered if you are-” 

Jason held a hand up to ask for silence. He was in the zone on a training module that Barbie had sent to the whole team. He was not going to get any more shit from fucking Tim and Stephanie about being an out of touch old man like Bruce who ran code directly from the 90s.

Danny cut himself off to wait. Without looking up, Jason could see some kind of bouncing movement that had to be Danny fidgeting. “You’re early,” Jason eventually said. He shut the program that he’d been running and then blinked his full attention over to his date. “It’s not- is it 5 already?” He blinked away the gumminess in his eyes and checked the time. 

Danny flushed a little green. His freckles glowed a little whiter in contrast. “No, it’s 4:30,” he admitted sheepishly. “I, uh, left work a little early.” He floated up and then abruptly over into a flip. Like an antsy mermaid. Jason leaned back and watched, fascinated by how easy movement looked on Danny. It was the way he’d used to see Dick, but now he knew how hard Dick’s easy mobility was earned.

“You don’t feel gravity at all, do you?” He confirmed, envious and charmed. 

“Uhh.. Can’t say that I do,” Danny admitted. He shrugged. “Not like this, anyway. I do in my human body, obviously.”

“Is that literally-” Jason cut himself off with a mortified flush. Holy shit. You can’t just ask someone if they have a magical transformation into their own corpse. Insensitive much?

Danny gave him a knowing look but gracefully ignored the question. “Anyway. Do you remember what I asked earlier?” He cocked his head to the side and full body wiggled. “I had Frostbite help me write them out. Undead health isn’t really my area, but he knows everything that’s ever been known, which is pretty cool.”

“Uh…” Jason thought back. “I told you when we were eating that I died once,” he reminded Danny with a raised eyebrow. “So that’s an easy yes.”

Danny shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know how serious you were or if you were describing something extremely short term like needing afib or something longer term-”

“Dead, buried, in the ground for months,” Jason admitted. “Presumably rotted, but I came back to myself with living human physiology, if extremely damaged from what killed me.” It was really gross to think about. It was also impossible to totally avoid. There should have been no coming back from all the blood drying up and shit.

Danny stared at him with an open mouth for a few seconds. Long enough that Jason fidgeted, uncomfortable.

“That’s the most metal shit I’ve ever heard in my life,” Danny said reverentially. “That’s so nasty, man. You rotted? Does this make me more of a necrophiliac than you?”

Jason choked on his own spit.

Danny did another flip.

“My parents were definitely human,” Jason managed, voice strangled. Best to get this back on topic. “I know for sure. I’ve met them both.”

Danny blew a raspberry. “It’s not always obvious,” he pointed out 

“Anything that would show up on Batman’s DNA analysis can be ruled out,” Jason corrected himself. “And neither of them had any non-human capabilities. Died from things that a Tamaraean or Kryptonian would be able to get out of.” 

“...Oddly specific species mentions,” Danny said. A line formed between his brows. His toes touched down to earth and he crossed his arms. “You… I wasn’t thinking of that type of non-human.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just that, you touched Wolf.”

“And a Kryptonisn wouldn’t be able to?” Jason asked a bit dryly. He didn’t understand the logic.

“Not unless they were really juicy with death,” Danny said in a weirdly mellow tone for such a disgusting sentence.

Jason gagged a little. He couldn’t help it. Oh, christ. Yeah, bodies got wet and shit after a while, but characterizing that as juicy? That was out of line.

“Not like- not like that!” Danny fluttered his hands at Jason, torn between horror and cackling. “I don’t mean like, dead and rotting. I mean dead and reanimated with ectoplasm. Souped with the sweet nectar of the afterlife. Wolf is a ghost, man.” He snickered.

“Wolf is a ghost,” Jason repeated.

Danny frowned. “Wolf,” he said. “Not Wolf.”

“What?” They sounded the same.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Danny said, saying the name the exact same way that Jason had been. “It’s Wolf, not Wolf.”

Jason stared at him warily. “...Spell it for me.”

“W-U-L-F,”  Danny rattled.

Ah. Ok. Jason took that onboard. “Wulf is a ghost,” he said again. “And therefore I ought not be able to touch him. I can touch you.”

“Like this? For sure.” Danny went through his flashbang light-show and shook out his newly black hair. “I’m a physical being. In my ghost form, I can consciously let you touch me. But Wulf was actively in the Ghost Zone when you hit him. You put your hand into the Ghost Zone and smacked him. The living have ghostly properties in the Ghost Zone. He’s tangible there but you should have been intangible.”

“...Maybe I’m a ghost?” Jason posited, cocking his head slightly as he said it. Danny was the expert. “I never found any answer for why I just woke up in my grave one day.”

“You just woke up?” Danny repeated, delighted. He put his hands on his face, breathed into them heavily, and then ran both hands through his hair. “That’s sick. That’s fucking sick, man. Did you have to dig yourself out like a zombie?”

…Did Danny think this was like, hot, and not disturbing? “Tore off my fingernails on the coffin splinters,” Jason confirmed, fascinated with what a little freak this guy was. Danny’s pupil dilated at the words. Jason could almost have been offended because that shit was traumatic, but hey. 

If he really thought about it. It was sick as fuck.

“I think yes, by the way,” Jason decided. He waited for Danny to give him a questioning look  before he elaborated. “You’re a monsterfucker, my guy. I’m attracted to you, but not because you’re dead. Whereas you’re clearly into the fact that I’m a dead guy.” 

Danny opened his mouth. He shut it. He put a hand over his mouth. “Huh,” he said. “Huh.” His brow furrowed. “If I said it was scientific curiosity and that passion for death runs in my family- no, I hear it.” He flapped a hand at Jason to cut off the laugh he couldn’t stop. “Hush. Okay. Fine.” He stood up a little straighter. “I’m a necrophiliac and I’m proud.”

A window banged shut in the kitchen and there was a clatter as someone’s shitty little brother fell into the sink.

“...Hi, Duke!” Danny called.

Jason put his hand over his face.

“Hi, Danny!” Duke called back, voice choked. “Good to hear from you, man.”

“You can’t fucking be here!” Jason said between his fingers. “I have plans, you shitty Zebra mussel.”

Danny looked at him.

“...What?” Duke asked. He came into the room to frown at Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes. “New Zealand mud snail.” They still didn’t get it. “Spotted lantern fly.” 

Blank stares.

“Fucksake,” said Jason. “I’m calling you an invasive species.”

Danny laughed. Duke made a loud pffft sound and unlocked his phone. He held it up and showed them the screen. “Would the New Zealand zebra lantern fly have this?” He triumphantly brandished his phone screen, which was a screenshot of his chat with Jason where he’d confirmed that he had permission to come over.

“New Zealand zebra lantern fly,” Jason repeated, vexed as fuck. “You know damn well-”

“It checks out, boss,” Danny reported, leaning back from Duke’s phone. “Looks like he’s allowed in. Let ‘im use your TV while we go out.”

“Yeah, let me use your TV while you go on a date,” Duke echoed, clearly enjoying this a lot.

“...I’ll get my coat,” Jason said sullenly. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“We’ll bring you back dinner,” Danny told Duke.

Jason stalked away into his bedroom, wondering when he’d lost the plot to his own life.

[cains-daughters]

hot summer days/nights with werewolf bf!

spending the day at the lake, river or beach, anywhere where he can cool off and obviously it’s a great excuse to get you a bikini. he loves how your body looks with little to no clothes and begs you to wear it.

would want to decapitate anyone that gives you any weird looks, even if it’s just to flirt but at the same time loves that he gets to show you off.

loves to rub sunscreen on you, specially on your legs and ass, he will spend a questionable amount of time while rubbing it on your booty. “just making sure it’s even” he says, you can clearly hear his little smirk.

spends more than 5 hours inside the water or goes on side quests without telling you and comes back with a collection of sea shells, rocks, sticks, bones, leafs or herbs he found for you, no in between

will like to stay till night comes, unless it’s a full moon, but will sit with you and tell you stories regarding his world, the moon and stories that his elders had taught him

will also stay to fuck you till he’s howling and you’re cumming under the stars <3

the nights will feel long because of how hot it is, so both of you just stay awake watching movies, talking in the porch or having friends over, specifically friends from his pack

when you go to bed, he’s always tossing and turning trying not to wake you up but to find a cooler spot.

will get sad if you find his body heat uncomfortable even if you’re already way too hot.

secretly loves when it’s too hot and your sweat mixes with his, the pheromonessssssss. will literally start sniffing you , licking your natural oils, and will obviously end up with his nose on your crotch and you’ll wake up by feeling his tongue licking and sucking on your underwear. “Shhh, just let me stay here, rest my precious one”

literally rotting in bed rn, it’s so hot and all I can think about is having a werewolf bf😿