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dazedandconfused-15 · 4 months ago

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Heaven's in your eyes (Part 4)

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who took the time to comment and reblog this story, I'm really glad you're sticking with me on this journey!!

If you're enjoying it, a reblog would mean a lot to me and really helps get this fanfic out there! 🫶

Enjoy...

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1 Part 2, and Part 3

@tatumrileyslover @littlenosoul @nocturnest @the-freak-cassie-313 @rainy-darling @nina-from-317

From then on, you become much more observant. Billy and you meet up after school to do homework, go for walks, grab some food or just hang out. You start noticing small details, like how sometimes his shirt is buttoned up a bit higher than usual, even in warm weather. Occasionally, you catch sight of a bruise on his skin. You refrain from bombarding him with questions, but it's challenging to stay silent when the wounds are obvious. Thankfully, it's never as severe as that night he showed up battered. You quickly understand that this topic is off-limits for him, so you let it go, hoping that someday, he'll feel comfortable enough to open up to you.

For the first time in what feels like ages, happiness seeps into your days. Suddenly, the world seems brighter, nights feel less daunting, and even the mundane surroundings regain a hint of color. But deep down, you know this fragile balance won't last.

And just like that, everything shifts during a Wednesday afternoon gym class. You're deep into a basketball game. A teammate passes you the ball, and with quick reflexes, you snatch it and charge towards the basket. It all happens in a blur, catching you off guard, until a sharp pang shoots through your knees as they collide with the unforgiving, polished wood of the gym floor. Your heart races as you instinctively extend your arms, just in time to protect your face from the impact. Amid the chaos, the coach's whistle cuts through the noise, and through the fog of pain, a pair of trainers come into focus right before your eyes.

“What happened?”

“She tripped, Coach,” says the voice belonging to the person in those shoes. Your gaze shifts upward, meeting the mocking eyes of Tina Williams. She stands with one hand on her hip, casually chewing her gum. A moment later, she steps aside as the coach kneels in front of you.

The contrast is stark—where there was once the commotion of squeaking shoes and shouts, there's now a hushed stillness. Half the class has gathered around, watching in silence.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" the coach asks you, resting his hand on your arm.

deliberately tripped you, sending you crashing to the floor. The pain in your knees isn't unbearable, but your skin is clearly scraped. The sting from where they hit the ground and slid across the floor is still sharp.

"Oh man, we need to disinfect these," the coach remarks, examining your peeling, reddened knees where raw flesh is visible. "I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

"No, no. It's fine." you say, your voice slightly shaky as he helps you to your feet. "It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," you murmur, catching the faint snickers of Vicky Muller and Carol Perkins as they whisper to Tina, their voices low but filled with amusement.

The coach makes you sit on the benches for the rest of the hour. As the game continues, you become a spectator in every sense—watching the game and the entire situation unfold, feeling completely disconnected from your own body. Your mind drifts, detaching from everything around you. You’re certain Tina tripped you on purpose, but the reason eludes you. Anxiety gnaws at you, leaving a pit in your stomach. When the game finally ends, you follow your classmates into the locker room, keeping your eyes downcast, avoiding any confrontations. All you want is to leave, to escape this uncomfortable situation.

But as you open your locker, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Reluctantly, you turn, only to find yourself face-to-face with Tina. Vicky stands beside her, arms crossed, with an expression that clearly shows she's anticipating some entertainment, barely able to contain her laughter.

Tina nods toward your knees. “How are your knees?”

You want to snap back, to demand what her problem is, but instead, you choose the path of least resistance. Maybe if you play along, this will all blow over.

“It’s nothing serious. It’ll pass,” you say, forcing a small smile before turning back to your locker.

Tina snorts, and there’s a brief, tense silence. “What’s your deal with Billy?”

Your hand freezes in mid-motion as everything suddenly clicks into place. Slowly, you turn back to her, realizing there’s no avoiding this conversation.

You decide to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“Did I stutter?”

You swallow, taking in her mocking expression. The locker room falls silent as your classmates stop what they’re doing to watch the scene unfold. In the background, Carol wears a wicked smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I barely know him,” you say, trying to diffuse the situation, not wanting any trouble.

You know that Billy had gone out with Tina a few times not too long ago. It was supposedly nothing serious and ended as quickly as it began. Rumor has it that after they’d hooked up in his Camaro, he drove her home and never called her again.

“Please. You think we’re dumb?” Vicky chimes in. “We’ve seen you hanging with him.”

“I…”

“Listen, honey,” Tina cuts you off, unfolding her arms and stepping toward you. Her tone is anything but sweet, almost aggressive. “I don’t care what the hell you’re up to. But stop it.”

“Wha…”

“You really think he’d be interested in someone like you? Take a good look at yourself,” she sneers, her gaze sweeping over you, making you instantly self-conscious. “Make sure you’re not carrying fleas before you get near guys like Billy. God knows what’s lurking in that cesspool you call home.”

“Or STDs,” Carol chimes in with a smirk. “Like mother, like daughter.”

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, the pain in your knees forgotten as a deeper ache settles in. The room is filled with your classmates, yet you’ve never felt so alone. Some stand in silent shock, others hold back amused grins, enjoying the spectacle.

“So yeah, stay away from him. Got it?” Tina snaps her bubble gum, her eyes daring you to respond.

They don’t wait for an answer, turning away and leaving you frozen in place. As you open your locker and reach for your clothes, you realize with a sinking feeling that they’re soaked. Water drips onto the floor, soaking your sneakers, and panic rises in your chest. You quickly grab your backpack, hoping it’s unharmed, but find it just as wet, the contents inside ruined.

Murmurs and giggles fill the room as Tina’s voice drifts over again, soft but cutting. “Sorry about that. Maybe next time you’ll know your place.”

You leave school wearing your damp clothes, shivering as the rain falls down on you. The thought of enduring two more hours of English literature is unbearable. Despite your efforts to dry your clothes and backpack, the dampness clings to you, making the weight of it all feel heavier. The mile-long walk home feels endless as your mind replays the scene in the gym and locker room. You wonder how you could have been so naive, so foolish to think you could find a bit of happiness without something going wrong. The cold air stings your wet cheeks, and you wipe them with the back of your hand, your eyes fixed on the ground. Your knees burn, but nothing compares to the deep, burning shame inside you.

When you finally reach home, you’re grateful your father is still at work, sparing you from having to explain why you’re home early or why you look so miserable. You retreat to the shower, letting the hot water pour over you until the steam is so thick you can’t even see the tiles. Later, you curl up on the couch under a blanket, staring blankly at the TV, your mind far away. The phone rings, breaking the silence, but you don’t have the energy to answer it. Whoever is calling is persistent, though, and the ringing continues.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pick up the receiver, trying to keep your voice from sounding hollow.

“Hello?”

“It’s Billy.”

His warm voice is like a balm, soothing your frayed nerves, but it also brings back the harsh memories of the day. The ugly events replay in your mind, and guilt washes over you as you imagine him waiting by his Camaro, only to realize you wouldn’t be showing up.

“I’m sorry. Sorry about that,” you croak, clearing your throat. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“What happened?”

“I’m just under the weather. That’s all. I think I’m getting sick.”

A heavy silence hangs between you as you twist the phone cord around your fingers, the tension in your grip turning your skin white. You can only hear your own breathing, and you hope desperately that he believes you, that he won’t push for more.

“You sure?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, I promise. I just need to rest.”

“Alright,” he sighs. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Hey, Billy?” you blurt out, stopping yourself before your voice cracks. The knot in your throat tightens as you struggle with the urge to be honest with him. It doesn’t seem fair to lie, knowing this might be one of the last times you hear his voice. “Thanks for calling,” you manage to say once you’re sure your voice won’t break.

“Don’t mention it. Bye, sweetheart.”

You hang up before you can respond, the warmth of his endearment slicing through you, leaving you on the verge of tears. It’s not just him—it’s everything. The whole situation weighs on you. You glance at the picture of you and your mom on the hall shelf, taken when you were just two years old in her arms. Your dad still keeps it, a reminder of the past. Billy has managed to make your life easier, not by making you forget, but by showing you that happiness was still possible. But today, all those old wounds are reopened. The void left by her, and now by him, feels deeper than ever. That’s the risk of letting people into your life—they eventually leave, and all you’re left with is the emptiness they once filled.

You stay home for the next two days. On Friday, it still hasn’t stopped raining. The day drags on endless, each hour feeling like an eternity. You struggle to find the strength to peel yourself out of bed, your stomach tied in knots, rendering breakfast an impossible feat. As rain continues to patter against the window, casting a dreary backdrop, you find yourself lost in a numb trance, gazing blankly at the vivid greenery outside. Only in the afternoon does your hunger finally overpower the turmoil within, prompting you to rustle up a simple cheese toast to appease your growling stomach. Settling in front of the TV, you attempt to distract yourself from the weight of the day's events. By the late afternoon, as your dad arrives home, you force yourself to summon a facade of composure, determined not to burden him with worries. Then the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your trance, and you get up to see who's there.

As you open the door, Billy is standing here, his hands on his leather jacket pockets, his gaze wandering off to the side, but turns to look immediately at you. He’s as pretty as the last time you saw him. His eyes lock with yours, making you weak in the knee.

“Oh. Hey.” you softly say, completely taken off guard by his presence on your front door.

“Hey.”

“Uh, what are you doing here?” you ask, trying your best to not sound rude. You’re just confused.

Billy shrugs. “You didn’t answer when I called. Figured I would come to you instead.”

His response leaves you speechless. You’re struck by his persistence, amazed that he hasn’t grown tired of you, given his tendency to quickly lose interest in people. He says it so casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it stirs something inside you that you can’t quite put into words.

Amusement flicks over his face. “You gonna let me in, or what?”

You excuse yourself by straightening up from your position against the door, opening it wide to let him in. Billy wipes his shoes on the doormat before stepping in. A strange energy seems to be unleashed when your bodies are close to each other. It makes you feel electric. You’ve never believed in those things, but it’s almost like your auras are touching.

You look up at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you look at each other.

“Sorry, my dad’s here,” you say as you see him look up behind you toward the living room.

Although very subtle, you notice how his body tenses up when your father approaches him and you introduce Billy to him. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Your dad shakes his hand, a warm smile on his face. “Ah, so you must be Billy. She keeps talking about you.”

Billy lets out a nervous chuckle, briefly glancing at you. You find yourself looking at the ground, cheeks flushed. "Hope she said good things."

“All I can say is that you’re good to her, son. Haven’t seen my daughter smiling this often in a long time. She never talks to me about her friends.” he rests his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“I’m glad to hear that.” you can feel Billy’s eyes on you, boring a hole through your skin. “She’s good to me too.”

Your dad gestures toward the kitchen. “Have you had dinner yet? We made some roasted chicken tonight, it’s delicious.”

Billy shakes his head. “Thank you, sir, I had dinner earlier.”

“Come have a drink then.” your dad already walks backward to the kitchen. “What can I get you?”

“Dad…” you softly say at his enthusiasm. You never have people over. It’s been a long time since you had them. Not since…well. And you understand your dad lights up as a candle with joy. He’s getting too enthusiastic already.

“You look over eighteen. Beer? Some red wine?”

Billy glances at you, his hand in his pockets, then slowly follows him to the kitchen. He looks like a wary animal taking in his surroundings. “Beer is fine. Thank you, sir.”

You follow behind Billy, feeling suddenly so uneasy in your own house. Your eyes follow his broad back as he enters the kitchen, the air already smelling like leather. Like him.

Your dad, with a casual wave of his hand, says, "Ah, don't bother with all those formalities around me.”

Billy leans against the counter as your dad extends an uncapped bottle of beer, clinking it against his own. You notice how he stiffens slightly again when your dad mentions remembering his last name, knowing his father. His attitude becomes more reserved, and he answers with small sentences. Especially when your dad mentions how despite having talked to him only a few times at Melvald’s downtown and the bank, he looks like a tough guy. However, your dad is easygoing and his attitude warm, and slowly, throughout the conversation, Billy seems to ease up too. His shoulders relax, and a real laugh escapes him a time or two. You knew they shared some interests, but you didn’t expect them to talk about California for so long. Your dad recounts his younger years living in there, how he spent his days surfing and working in a garage for his own dad’s friend to get some money. Billy did the same back there. He tells your dad how you mentioned some of it to him, then how many more people there are since the 60s, how Will Rogers State Beach is now crowded with tourists.

“You’re sure you don’t want anything to eat? Hell, there’s plenty of that chicken and it’s only the two of us.” you dad offers again.

Billy settles the empty beer on the counter. “Oh, I’m fine. Thank you. I was hoping to take her on a ride, to get some fresh air if that’s alright with you.”

Your dad looks at you and you give him a small smile, though you didn’t expect or plan any of it. He nods in approval.

“Sure, kids. Be careful, yeah? It was nice to meet you Billy.”

“Same. Thank you for the beer.”

Your dad winks at him. “Anytime. You’re always welcome.”

At first, silence hangs between the two of you. Billy doesn’t mention it as he drives you toward downtown, and your mind is elsewhere. You’re there physically, but your thoughts are consumed by how wrong it feels to be in the car with him. Your plans to keep your distance have been shattered by his unexpected presence. His decision to come to you makes everything ten times harder. You’re unsure how you’ll find the right words to express yourself without offending him—or worse, hurting him. But then again, maybe you’re overthinking it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel as connected to you as you do to him. Chances are, you’ll be the one left hurting in the end.

Billy casually suggests getting a milkshake at the diner, then lapses back into silence, leaving you unsure whether to thank him or ask him to break the quiet. He doesn’t make it easy. When he parks in front of the diner, he opens the passenger door for you. Physical contact has become second nature between you two—small, almost unconscious gestures, especially on his part. But they always send your heart racing. This time, as he touches your back, gently guiding you inside while holding the diner door open, your heartbeat spikes dangerously.

You usually have a sweet tooth, and the milkshakes at Starlight Grill are delicious, but today, your thoughts have robbed you of your appetite. Billy insists you get something, and when you hesitate, he suggests sharing a milkshake.

When the waitress brings the milkshake along with the bill, Billy takes the first sip. You reach into your pocket for some coins.

“What are you doing?”

“Just, paying.” You murmur absent-mindedly, counting the coins. Billy's hand appears in front of you, putting them aside.

“Put that away.”

You sigh, meeting his gaze. "Billy."

He casually slides the milkshake in front of you, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, completely unfazed by your feeble attempts to resist. The purple lights of the diner cast a soft glow, highlighting his features and making his mustache stand out more than usual. You can't help but marvel at how effortlessly handsome he always looks. Meanwhile, you feel out of place in your loose jumper, with no makeup and your hair barely combed.

You notice that there is only one straw in the milkshake. “Oh, they didn’t bring another one.”

“It’s fine. Drink it,” his features shifting to an amused look. “Unless it grosses you out.”

“No, no! Of course not.” you hastily assure him before bringing the straw to your lips. The rich taste of chocolate floods your senses with a pleasant sensation, despite your lack of hunger. You resist the temptation to indulge in a bit of the whipped cream from the top of the milkshake.

“Feel better today?” he asks as he watches you, leaning back against the bench.

“Uh, yes. A bit better.” you lie, your eyes on the table. You’re unable to look at him.

You instinctively tighten your grip on the cold glass of the milkshake, startled by the sudden warmth of his palm on your forehead.

“Yeah. No fever, anyway,” he says.

“How did you do on the test yesterday?” you ask instead, eager to change the topic.

Billy leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he brings the milkshake closer to himself, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Eh, not bad. I think I passed," he replies before taking a sip from the straw. “Jesus, this shit is sweet as hell.” he mutters, peering down at the milkshake as if it personally wronged him.

You let out a soft laugh at his expression. When you sat down, he asked you what flavor you liked and ordered it without hesitation. You realize with a pang of guilt that you hadn't even bothered to ask him if he liked it.

“Sorry… too much?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Just a bit sweet.” he pushes the milkshake toward you, your fingers brushing each other as you take the glass. “I’m more of a savory type of guy.”

"Oh," you sheepishly respond, brushing your thumb against the cold glass to clear away some moisture. “I’m more of a sweet type of girl.”

"You are," he says, his voice carrying a subtle warmth that catches your attention.

You lift your gaze toward him, struck by the underlying tone in his words. Billy dips his pinky in the whipped cream and brings it to his mouth. Red lips suck around the skin, his tongue licking the whipped cream away. You take a sip of the milkshake to distract yourself from the stirring movement in your lower belly.

“So what’s your favorite?” he then casually asks, as if he didn’t just do the most provocative thing ever.

“My what?” you ask as if coming back to reality.

“Your favorite dessert.”

“Oh uhm, I guess my mom’s tiramisu,” you stop to think about all the summers spent eating your mom’s tiramisu in the back of your house in the garden, the happy memory becoming bittersweet. “I didn’t like it when I was younger, I used to make all of those faces when I tasted the coffee.” Billy snorts a soft laugh as he looks at you. “She used to make it all the time when it was warm outside.” you say as you play with the straw.”

“You know how to make it?”

“Yes. She taught me.”

“You’ll have to make me one, someday.”

You meet his eyes, still intently on you, and you lower your gaze while stretching your lips into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. How you wish there was a chance to do this.

“What’s yours?” you ask instead, ignoring how your heart is aching.

Billy hums thoughtfully, dragging the milkshake toward him. “I’d say the tacos from the Mexican joint in Mission Beach. Hands down.”

“What do they put in them?”

Billy sucks on the straw before setting the glass aside. “Okay, so picture this,” he leans his elbows on the table. “They have this way of cooking the beef, it’s tender and juicy ‘cause they dip it in the stew, and it’s seasoned just right."

A smile slowly spreads on your face without you realizing it as he gets enthusiastic about it.

“Then they sprinkle some lime on it.” he mimics the sprinkling, his eyes squinting a tiny bit. "And then there's the crunch of the shell, just crispy enough to contrast with the beef. Then they top it with cheese and jalapeños. Man,” you giggle as he lightly slaps his palm on the table. He turns his head to the side, momentarily lost in thought as he contemplates. “It’s something else.”

“It sounds delicious.” you nod, a laugh escaping your lips.

As Billy looks back at you, his face is closer to yours as you leaned on the table too. His blue eyes bore into yours. “It’s five-star type of food, babe. Unmatched.”

His voice is warm like dripping honey and your stomach flips, his half-lidded gaze trapping you there is both charming and dangerous. You’re scared of the things your body is feeling.

“I wish I could try it.”

“You will. Told you I would take you there.”

He scans your face, catching each of your reactions from up close as your breath hitches in your throat. “I thought you were joking.”

“I never was.”

You wonder what would happen if you just listened to your instincts right now. If only he lifted the sleeves of your sweater, he’d see the goosebumps on your arms. If he could press his ear to your chest, he’d hear your heart racing. But following your instincts feels too risky. A little voice inside reminds you that all this chemistry between you two might just be in your head. You're building castles in the air; your deluded heart is playing tricks on you. Tina’s voice chimes in too: “What would a guy like him want with someone like you?” So, you pull away, and as you do, your heartbeat slows down a little.

You clear your voice, grabbing the milkshake. “Anyway, I better get home soon. It’s almost ten.”

With only a little milkshake left, you finish it without meeting his gaze, deciding to switch the topic to how you caught up with homework while staying at home. He doesn’t comment on it, biting into it and telling you about the history test on that Wednesday.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asks you once on the drive home.

He lowers the volume of the radio, Eagles’ ‘Take it Easy’ reduced to background noise. You hesitate. You don’t know how to tell him. You’ve never been good at cutting ties with people. You’ve never been ready. You never will be.

“I’m just not in a good place right now.”

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Billy responds, his voice low and steady. "But what's got you feeling this way?"

You figure that the best way is to be straightforward, though.

“I know this might sound weird," you begin, already feeling a pang of regret for how you're about to phrase it. Your nails press into the palm of your hands as you twist them together, your eyes locked on the shifting scenery outside. “You’ll probably don’t understand it. But I think we have to stop seeing each other. Hanging around together.”

At first, your words hang heavy in the air, met only with silence that feels like a weight on your chest. You can't help but replay what you just said in your mind, wondering if you came off too harshly. It's a familiar feeling, the aftermath of saying something you can't take back, and in this moment, it feels far too aggressive.

As you battle with yourself, searching desperately for the right words to soften the blow, you find that every script you rehearsed in your head falls short. Billy's silence only adds to your internal turmoil, leaving you mentally slapping yourself for the brutal way you phrased it.

Billy licks his lips. “If I did something wrong,” he starts.

“No, it’s not that.”

“...Or if I made you feel uncomfortable, you gotta tell me.”

“No. Billy, please don’t think that. You haven’t done anything wrong.” you interject quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in reassurance.

He glances at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road, his expression unreadable. The tension in the car is palpable as he waits for you to explain further.

“I just…” you begin, running a hand through your hair in a nervous gesture. “I don’t think it’s good for you to be around me."

"Huh," he responds, his tone indicating he finds your reasoning perplexing. "What does that mean?"

You begin cautiously, choosing your words carefully, "I'm just not... I'm not exactly the embodiment of happiness, you know? And I don't want to bring you down with me."

"You think you're gonna bring me down?"

You nod slowly, unable to meet his gaze. "I just don't want to drag you into my mess," you admit quietly. “I have a lot to deal with myself. Please believe me when I say that it’s not a good idea.”

"That's it? That's why you think we should stop hanging out?" Billy's voice carries a blend of disbelief and skepticism as if he's attempting to peel back the layers of your explanation.

His response catches you off guard. Shouldn't your reason suffice? After all, it's what led to the end of friendships with Nancy and Claire. They understood and let you go. And deep down, you understand that too.

“No, it’s not just that…” you feel increasingly frustrated with the situation, it feels harder than you anticipated.

"Hey, if I'm not your cup of tea, or if I'm making you feel awkward, just say the word. No hard feelings. We can't all be everyone's favorite flavor. But let's keep it real, yeah?"

"No, it's not that at all, Billy!" you blurt out, your voice rising slightly with surprise. "I like you. I really do," you continue, your voice softening as shyness creeps in at the urgency of your confession. As you speak, Billy pulls the car to a stop in front of your place. "More than anyone else in this whole town."

Billy doesn’t talk for what seems like an eternity. You don’t dare to look at him. After almost a minute, he finally breaks the silence. “Okay, what is it, then?”

“It’s just…wrong.”

“Wrong?” he says. “Look, it’s not like I have a girlfriend and I’m ditching her to hang out with you or something.”

“Well, Tina doesn’t seem to be on the same page,” you mumble to yourself out of instinct.

Billy frowns. “What?”

That’s when you realize you talked out loud. You sigh, looking out of the window. You really hoped to avoid this conversation. It just feels wrong to use a lame excuse. You don’t wanna do that. It’s not working, anyway. You figure the best way to put it without having to unravel the whole thing.

“I don’t know what you guys are to each other-…”

“I fucked her once. That’s it.”

You wince at his words, carrying on. “...but she made pretty clear that I should stay away from you.”

At first you’re met with silence, but then Billy's reaction is a mix of disbelief and irritation. He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “She's nuts," he mutters, his tone laced with frustration. "Can't believe her. Jesus."

As you fidget with your hands in your lap, a sense of resignation washes over you. That doesn’t change things. You made up your mind already. They succeeded pretty well in making you see things for what they are. In a very sadistic way, that’s for sure. It is the reality nonetheless.

“Listen, don’t pay attention to her.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “It’s kinda hard, she’s really committed to making my life a living hell.”

Billy's expression shifts, his gaze now fixed on you with newfound seriousness. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, just…” you sigh. “It’s just what I said. Bottom line is, I’m not good for you, Billy. I’m messed up and I can’t give anything good. You should be spending time with people who are stable, who have something to offer.”

Billy turns his attention back to the trailer ahead. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he pieces together the puzzle. Before you can prepare yourself, he's already connecting the dots.

He scratches his chin, then looks back at you. “Does it have to do with you ditching school for the past days?” his tone calm but unwavering.

Your answer is instinctive and almost too immediate. "No, that's..." you start, but Billy cuts you off with a knowing look.

“Don't lie to me.”

You know if there’s one thing he doesn’t like, it’s when people lie to him. He told you that before. There is no way out of this. If anything surprises you about Billy, it’s his emotional intelligence. His ability to understand what you feel just like that. How he easily and often picks up what’s on your mind. You explain everything that happened to him, noticing how his face hardens progressively as you recount the events that have weighed heavily on you. From that moment Tina deliberately tripped you up in gym class, sending you sprawling to the ground in front of everyone, to the tense confrontation in the locker room. You feel drained after talking, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck those bitches.” he growls, his voice thick with anger.

“They’re right though. We really are different.”

“Different in what? I’m a guy, you’re a girl. But then?”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, your eyes fixed on the window.

“Well, tell you what, I like spending time with you. That’s all I know,” you turn in surprise at how bluntly he said those words. “Did we ever argue or anything?”

You think back on all the times you've spent together. Whenever you were with him, it felt like everything else faded away, and it was just the two of you against the world. There was never any arguing or discord between you; instead, he had a knack for making you forget about any troubles or worries you had. Being with him was like finding a safe haven, a place where you could just be yourself and feel at peace.

“No,” you admit, feeling a knot form in your throat.

“Do you feel any different when it’s just you and me?”

“No.”

“Are you ever bored when we hang out?”

“No, never.” you breathe out, shaking your head.

“Me neither. So it’s sorted.”

“Billy, I’m…I’m complicated. My life is complicated.”

He shrugs, shifting in his seat. “I like complicated.”

Billy's stubbornness despite the doors you're trying to close between you is overwhelming both in the best and worst way.

“I just don't think you really know what you're doing," you protest weakly, unable to shake the nagging doubts that linger in the back of your mind.

“Pretty sure I do.”

“Billy,” heat rises in your cheeks as shame gnaws at your insides, your heart weighing heavy. It's hard for you to acknowledge it, let alone put it into words. “Look at me,” you point at yourself, your throat burning.

Billy's eyes scan your face, a hint of amusement dancing in his features. “I am.”

You shake your head, your throat feels ready to burst from how much it hurts. “No. Look at you, then look at me. Look at this,” you gesture toward the darkened trailer.

“You serious?”

“I am. Trust me, you don’t want to…”

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart. Come on, now. Look at me.”

You realize Billy has leaned over the console as he gently grasps your chin. “I don’t care. All I know is that I like you, alright? I don’t give a shit about the rest.”

His words cut through you, threatening to shatter the fragile barrier holding your emotions at bay. His thumb delicately traces the curve of your chin as his piercing blue eyes search yours. Frozen in place, you dare not move or speak, afraid that the slightest exhale might betray the storm of emotions raging within you.

“You hear me?” he drops his head slightly, as he softly shakes your chin to get your attention, his eyes finding yours. “I don’t care.”

You content to nod, a tear breaking free and running down your cheek. Billy licks his lips, his face inching closer to yours. “C’mere.”

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels as ancient as time itself, as though you've shared this in a thousand other lives. It's tender, lingering, filled with an unspoken longing that resonates deep within you. As you lose yourself in the kiss, his breath dances with yours, and you taste tobacco, mint and something distinctly him on his tongue, sending a wave of euphoria through you. Your hand instinctively rises, fingers curling gently around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, yearning for more. Your heart is beating so fast you swear it’s going to explode. As you break the kiss first in search of oxygen, you’re vaguely aware of his mouth seeking yours, his face tilting forward, his half-open eyes unfocused. His fingers travel on the back of your neck, curling around it and pressing your lips more firmly against his. It’s so good that it doesn’t feel real, your body is the only thing you're aware of. It's ablaze, your heart thundering in your chest, your breath resonating in the car. But he’s here too, he’s real. Real as one can be when you feel his hot skin against your fingers where you’re holding his shirt, as his mustache tickles your mouth, then your cheek, your neck.

He’s certainly real when his voice comes as a muffled and open-mouthed whisper against your skin, buried between your neck and your hair between kisses.

“God, baby.”

It’s a soft plead, a gentle need that swells your heart. Your fingers are tangled through his curls at the nape of his neck. They’re as soft as you imagined them. You could’ve never imagined one day your fingers would run through them. His mouth finds yours again, your senses filled with the scent of him and you can’t help yourself and rest your hand on his cheek, wanting to feel him more. Time is not something tangible anymore. You don’t know how long elapses. It may be minutes, it may be hours. You just can’t seem to get enough of each other to finally break apart. Nothing has ever made you feel so good in a long time. That’s why you don’t question your tongue tangling with his, his hand searching for skin as it ventures beneath your jacket and settles on your waist, warm and big.

The loud thud of thunder outside makes you jump slightly on the seat, and with the realization that you must get inside, you slowly but finally break apart from him.

“I have to go.” you manage to say as his lips kiss your cheek and the corner of your eye instead.

His breath fans against your skin, a gentle caress that makes you shiver. Billy's eyes, still glazed with desire, slowly refocus as he registers your words. There's a flicker of disappointment, but he nods in understanding.

“Yeah. Yeah, you better get inside,” he replies in a husky voice, his eyes roaming over your face.

His lips are red and swollen with your kisses, you can’t help but steal another kiss which her eagerly accepts, planting a couple more against your mouth. They’re not as deep but full of meaning, resonating in the air.

“Call me tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, I will,” you mumble, your cheek feeling red as you internally wish you could stay with the him forever.

As you leave the car, the cold rain immediately envelopes you, sending shivers down your spine. The rain soaks through your clothes as you navigate through the darkness. As you reach the door, you steal one last look at Billy's car, watching as he drives away into the night, the memory of his touch still lingering on your lips.

#dacre montgomery #stranger things smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #dacryphilia #eddie munson #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!oc #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader smut #billy hargrove smut #steve stranger things

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michaelsfavgirl · 5 months ago

Text

fast learner

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: (related to/continuation of innocence) After taking your virginity and focusing solely on your pleasure, Michael hasn't asked for anything in return, leaving you doubting your ability to please him due to your inexperience. Determined to return the favour you ask him to teach you how to give him a blowjob.

Tags: smut, oral (m receiving), dom!michael, sub!reader, first time giving, lack of experience, implied age gap, huge pp, coming untouched, multiple orgasms, fingering, cheesy ending.

Word Count: 3.4k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: lipgloss dupe (there’s a part where I wanted to write that so bad but thought it’d ruin the moment so I’m telling you here)

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

It's been a few weeks since Michael introduced you to the pleasures of the flesh. Over this period, your hunger for each other has become insatiable. Who knew sex could be this good? Not a day has gone by without his hands on you, making you cum over and over again until tears roll down your cheeks, and he knows you’ve reached your limit.

He’s been oh so gentlemanly and giving. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to say he’s been eating you out on an almost daily basis. Especially when your poor cunt is sensitive from all the loving and stretching, he just gently laps at your pussy, his warm tongue making you leak more of your sweet juices into his mouth, all without asking for anything in return.

And that’s exactly what’s been gnawing at you. Compared to how experienced he is in the bedroom, you feel slightly embarrassed. He’s always the one doing all the work, always making sure you cum first, ensuring you don’t lift a finger. As much as you love it, it’s starting to make you feel inadequate.

You want to make him feel good as well, but oddly enough, he hasn’t hinted at you giving him oral in any way. How strange. Aren’t men supposed to be obsessed with it or something? It makes you wonder if he thinks you’re incapable of satisfying him since you’ve never done it before. This sends you into a spiral of overthinking.

While this turmoil brews inside your head, Michael, who’s been lying next to you on your shared bed, notices your furrowed brows. Instantly, he pulls you closer to him, your head on his chest and his hands gently caressing your back. Softly, he presses a kiss to the top of your head and whispers, “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Feeling heat rise in your face, you contemplate how to tell him. As soothing as his hands are, they do little to calm your nervousness. You open and close your mouth multiple times before sighing and saying it bluntly, “You’re always doing all the work in bed and... and it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to please you too.” You close your eyes and focus on the low sound of the TV instead of the silence coming from him.

Michael’s hand pauses for a moment before he shifts, gently tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. His gaze is soft, filled with understanding. “Oh, baby,” he says, his voice tender. “I love making you feel good. That’s how it’s supposed to be, I wasn’t playing around when I promised to take care of you always.” he smiles and adjusts his body, ready to continue watching the television but you’re not gonna let this go so easily.

“But…” you start, feeling a lump form in your throat, “I want to make you feel good too. I feel like I’m not contributing enough.”

Michael smiles softly. “Sweetheart, you do, seeing your pleasure, feeling your body respond to me—that’s everything. You don’t need to worry about doing anything more.”

“Yeah, but other couples—” you start to argue, but he cuts you off.

“I don’t care what other couples do,” he says, his tone firm but still gentle. “You’re too precious to me. What kind of man would I be if I made you get on your knees for me, hm?”

“But I want to learn how to do it. Teach me,” you say, while looking at him earnestly.

“Another time,” he replies, turning his head back towards the TV.

“What? No, Michael!” You knit your brows together, determined to gain his attention back. You whine and beg, slightly shaking him, trying to get a reaction.

“Please, please, please!” You dramatically clutch his shirt. A minuscule smile crosses his face before he turns up the volume, drowning out your adorable pouts and begs.

“Uh, how dare you? You’re silencing women!” you say, making him laugh genuinely, his lively chuckles ringing through the room. You take advantage, quickly grabbing the remote and turning the television off.

“Please, Michael,” you plead, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. He rolls his eyes playfully, looking at you for a few seconds, wanting to see if you’ll falter. But no, you seem very sure about this.

He caves. “Alright, fine, but just know that this won’t be a frequent activity for you.”

Smiling triumphantly, you start to get off the bed. He stops you with a gentle hand. “Stay on the bed. I don’t want your knees to bruise.” You blush and lay on your stomach comfortably, watching as he stands at the edge of the bed right in front of you.

Michael's eyes darken with a mix of desire and tenderness as he looks down at you. “You’re sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod eagerly, your eyes sparkling with determination. “Mhm.”

He shakes his head as he sees you impatiently staring at his crotch. “Alright, baby. I’ll guide you through it.”

Michael stands at the edge of the bed, his presence commanding from this angle. Your eyes are fixed on him, anticipation and hunger mixing in your gaze. He begins to undress, his movements slow and deliberate. When his trousers finally drop to the floor, your breath catches at the sight of his girthy, long cock. He’s even more impressive up close, his thick shaft swaying with his every move, begging for attention.

The sheer size of him makes you salivate, but also brings you back to earth, making you nervous about how you're going to manage to fit him into your mouth. Michael notices the flicker of anxiety in your eyes and gives you a reassuring smile, though his teasing nature shines through as he begins to stroke himself lazily.

His hand moves up and down his shaft with a deliberate slowness, knowing full well how it's driving you crazy. You can already feel the wetness pooling in your panties as you watch him, your body reacting to the sight of him pleasuring himself. He pulls back the foreskin that was covering half of his swollen tip, revealing more of the glistening precum that has gathered there.

Michael steps closer, his cock just inches from your face. He swipes a finger through the precum and looks at you with a playful glint in his eye. "Open your mouth," he instructs, his voice low and commanding.

You obey, your tongue sticking out as you wait, your body trembling with anticipation. He places his finger on your tongue. “Suck,” he says seductively. You do so shyly at first, your tongue swirling around his finger as the taste of him makes you whimper, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

He watches you intently, smirking as he sees how lost in it you are. After a moment, he reluctantly slides his finger out of your wet mouth, which is immediately followed by a whine from you, already missing his taste.

"I've got something better for you to suck on," he teases, his words making your cheeks heat up. You look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"First, however, I want you to wrap your hand around it," he says gently. Seeing the slight apprehension in your eyes he gives you a soft smile of approval. You tentatively reach out, your hand wrapping around his thick shaft. You marvel at how warm and heavy it is in your hand, the veins pulsing against your soft palm.

“It’s heavy.” You blurt out of of nervousness and as soon as you do you slap yourself mentally.

He chuckles heartily, “It’s all for you.”

Michael's large hand wraps around yours, guiding you as you stroke his meaty cock. "Just like this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. You feel him swell in your hand, his cock growing fully hard. His guidance helps you feel less nervous, his hand moving yours in a steady rhythm. But then he pulls away, leaving you to stroke him on your own.

You glance up at him, a little panicked, your movements becoming clumsy without his steadying hand. He coos softly, reassuring you, "It's alright sweet girl, you're doing well, go on."

His words bolster your confidence, and you continue to fist his lengthy cock. With each stroke, more precum leaks from his bulbous glistening tip. You so badly want to lick it, but you know you need to be patient. Thus you suppress those needs by rubbing your thighs together, the slight friction making this much more bearable.

"A little faster," he instructs, his voice a gentle command. You nod obediently and pick up your pace. The weight of his heavy cock makes your arm burn, but you push through, mesmerized by the way his foreskin slides over his swollen tip with every motion.

Feeling emboldened by his groans, you give his cock a gentle squeeze. He curses under his breath and smirks, praising you, "Look at you, baby. Didn't even have to tell you to do that."

“So good at this,” he murmurs and throws his head back, “knew you would be.”

You smile shyly, continuing your ministrations. Your hand starts to spasm from the effort, him being the attentive lover that he is, he slows you down, taking your hand off his shaft. Realising what's coming next, you lick your lips in anticipation, your thighs pressing even closer together.

He starts you off slowly, his voice gentle. "Give it a little kiss," he says, his eyes dark with desire. You lean in and softly press your lips against his glossy tip, pulling away you’re left with the remnants of his arousal shining on your lips.

"A few more."

You kiss around his tip, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin. The warmth emanating from him makes your pussy drool. Unable to resist, you give it a hesitant lick. He groans, a deep sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Someone's getting bold," he teases.

You pull away and turn your head to the side bashfully, reaching out, he cups your face gently. "Oh baby, it's alright. Here, open your little mouth."

You part your lips, your heart racing. He holds his cock, guiding his swollen tip to your mouth. Your tongue flicks out, licking the tip of his cock. You sigh at the delicious taste of him, savoring every drop of precum that oozes out. The salty-sweetness leaves you craving more, and you press your tongue against the slit, coaxing more of that deliciousness to the surface. He winces slightly from the sensitivity but lets you continue, his hand resting gently on the back of your head.

Your eyes flutter shut as you lick his tip, lost in the pleasure of tasting him whilst stimulating your clit at the same time. Suddenly, you feel him softly patting his bulbous head against your tongue, drawing you out of your reverie. You open your eyes, clouded by lust, and part your lips wider, tentatively taking him into your mouth. Your lips stretch around him, feeling the warmth and the firmness.

With just the tip in your mouth, you already feel your throat contracting, and breathing becoming much more laborious. He tenderly soothes you, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Shh, youre okay. Try to breathe through your nose…relax."

You nod slightly, focusing on his smooth voice. As you follow his words you feel the pressure disappear and breathing become easier. Curiously, you slowly begin to suck on his tip, the wet noises making you feel a little embarrassed. Michael watches you intently, ensuring you're not straining yourself too hard. He lets you explore at your own pace, his desire for your pleasure evident in his eyes.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and innocent. You whimper around his cock at the sight of his head thrown back, silent pants escaping his lips. You bob your head back and forth, his tip already stretching your mouth full. He shudders, the evident inexperience driving him wild. Without thinking, you try to take more of him in, struggling as his girth overwhelms you.

Michael immediately snaps back to attention, pulling you off him firmly. "Just the tip, sweetheart," he scolds, his tone stern. "Don't ever try to take more, don't want you to choke."

You pout, protesting, "But I want to-."

He cuts you off, shaking his head. "No buts. You can barely take the tip. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Rolling your eyes, you take just the tip back into your mouth and continue to suckle. The taste and feel of him make you crave more, but you obey his instruction. Michael watches you closely, trying his hardest not to buck his hips and fuck your sweet mouth. He reminds himself that it's too early for that, and he wants to take care of you.

“Take your time, I wanna savour this.” He looks down at you with lustful eyes. He never thought seeing you pleasuring him would turn him on so much.

Just as you start to feel more confident, your teeth accidentally graze his sensitive skin. Your eyes widen in shock, and you try to pull away to apologize, but he holds the back of your head steady, keeping you in place.

"Do it again," he commands softly, his voice a mix of pain and pleasure.

Uncertainly, you press your teeth against his skin and give him the softest bite you can. As soon as you do, he moans, his cock twitching in your mouth. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting him to be into something like this. If his fat cock wasn't stuffing your mouth, you'd definitely be giggling.

Encouraged by his reaction, you continue sucking, occasionally using your teeth to gently graze his skin. Each time you do, he moans louder, his hips twitching involuntarily. The knowledge that you're driving him crazy fills you with a heady sense of power. You lose yourself in the act, your own arousal building with each moan and groan that escapes his lips.

Michael's hand unconsciously tightens in your hair, guiding your movements as you suckle and nibble on his cock. "Such a fast learner," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

You hum around him appreciatively, the vibrations making him groan. Your lips stretch around his shaft as you suck eagerly, lost in the sensation and taste of him. Internally, you scowl at the reminder that he won't let you do this very often. He's so protective, always concerned about your comfort and safety. But you want to please him, to show him how much you crave this.

Unbeknownst to him, you keep rubbing your thighs together, adding more pressure to your throbbing clit. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, making you more desperate for release.

Michael's pants grow heavier, and he warns, "I'm close." You can see the wheels turning in his head, debating whether or not he should pull out. Before he can make a decision, you grab onto his thigh, your eyes pleading with him not to.

His gaze softens, and he nods, letting you have what you want. "Alright, baby. You can have it."

Determined to make him proud, you wrap your hand around his stiff cock, trying to stroke it in time with your sucking. He chuckles through his breathy moans, saying, "You're so eager to please."

He pulls your hand off, not wanting you to put in more effort than you're already putting in, and starts fisting his cock on his own. Although your jaw begins to ache, you fasten your pace, needily bobbing your head up and down. You watch his gorgeous face, his hair sticking to his forehead, as he tries to keep his eyes open to look at you. As he nears his orgasm, he can't help but gently buck his hips, the pulsing head hitting the back of your throat deliciously.

Your eyes flutter as you let him take control. Your body shakes as your weeping clit begs for release as well. "I'm coming," he manages to say, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel the hot ropes of his creamy load filling your mouth. You moan around his cock at the taste, eagerly swallowing every drop. He keeps flooding your mouth, the sheer volume shocking you. The sensation drives you over the edge. As you rub your thighs harder together, hitting that sweet little spot you feel your orgasm wash over you in tides. Your hands clutch the sheets for support as you shake slightly, which makes his thick milky cum spill from the corners of your mouth and down your chin.

You do your best to swallow it all while riding out your own high. When he finally pulls out, you look spent—eyes half-lidded, breathing heavily, the bottom half of your face wet with his sticky cum. You look absolutely beautiful.

Michael gazes at you with a mixture of awe and tenderness. "You did so well for your first time," he praises, though his words go in one ear and out the other as you catch your breath. You turn over and lay on your back, staring at the ceiling. He cups your face, gently cleaning off his seed off your mouth. "Hey, sweet girl?" he asks, a hint of worry in his voice. "Was it too much?"

You shake your head but don't say a word, still lost in the lingering pleasure. He notices how tightly shut your thighs are and raises an eyebrow in curiosity. He parts them slowly, watching how they tremble.

He shakes his head, realization dawning on him. "Oh, you naughty girl," he murmurs, slipping his warm hand under your panties and feeling the slickness between your folds. "Didn't expect you to cum from just sucking my cock."

You hide your face bashfully while he slides his fingers through your wetness and feels your clit still pulsing with need under his fingertips. "Let me properly take care of that for you." He slips your panties off, exposing your slick, puffy pussy. His fingers gently part your folds, feeling how slippery and sensitive you are.

Michael's touch is gentle but confident as he explores your cunt. "I’m so proud of you," he whispers, his fingers circling your clit at a teasingly slow pace. You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Please," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "More."

Michael obliges, how can he not when his precious girl did such a good job pleasing him. He slips two of his long finger into your entrance and pumps them in and out of you. His thumb moves to circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moan loudly, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. The sensitivity from the last release helping push you over the edge once more.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple, his voice low and husky. "Cum for me again." You feel the tension building in your core. Your breathing becomes ragged, your body trembling with anticipation. With a final thrust of his fingers, you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity.

Michael watches you with a satisfied smile, his fingers still moving inside you, prolonging your pleasure. "You're so beautiful when you cum," he says softly, his thumb brushing against your clit with less fervour.

You ride out your orgasm, your body finally relaxing as the waves of ecstasy subside. Michael slowly withdraws his fingers from your quivering hole and brings them to his lips, licking them clean. He leans down, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips just as much as he can taste himself on yours.The mix of your essenes making you moan softly into the kiss.

When he pulls back, he looks into your eyes, his expression tender. You snuggle into his embrace as he lifts you and walks towards the bathroom for a much deserved bubble bath.

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj @michaels-nonbinary-child @veavixen @elthoughtzos

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astral-gamma · 8 months ago

Note

bsd x reader when some bsd men are talking to another woman or person and they seem to be getting just a liiiittle too comfy so reader get jealous and is clingy all day but doesn't speak and/or ignores them. reader can be fem or gn

fluff , no smut or seggs pls

chars: fyodor, nikolai, dazai, ranpo and whoever else you want! (but maily fyodor cuz i'm a s.i.m.p)

(i can see reader just dragging niko where ever she/they go but don't even make eye contact with him)

u wanted requests and i thoughts of this so you can do it whenever u want and also thank you!

Characyers: Fyodor-Dazai-Nikolai-Ranpo (separeted) making reader jealous ^^

Note!: this took so long yet i couldve done much better 'cause i dont really like it *cries*

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ──

FYODOR

Fyodor has been spending the whole day with this cute girl and ignoring you, it's not as we was cheating on you,you knew that, and you also knew that she Was just a pice for a new plan of his… yet he was only looking at her you kinda felt bad and sad. you felt a shockwave go through you as you saw him smiling with her, a sudden jealously that I had not expected. His enthusiastic motions drew her in like a magnet as he leaned in a bit too near. You observed from a distance, creating fantastical stories about their friendship in your head. What were the secrets they were sharing during those giggly conversations? you couldn't help but feel irritated by his lack of interest.

As the day went by , dusk approached, the boy with darker locks eventually decided to come back to the house you shared.

Your cheeks were still wet from the tears you had just cried, and you were already fast asleep, cuddled up under the covers of your large bed. Fyodor, who was incredibly smart despite everything, saw this and knew right once what was going on.He knew what was coming for the day when he woke up the next morning with you in his arms (obviously, it wasn't bothering him in the least; in fact, he was just glad to have you close)... He probably knew that you had no intention of leaving him for at all, and for the rest of the day, Fyodor tried to work but was distracted by your soft touches and gentle actions. Eventually, he gave up and paid attention to you, giving you the cuddles and small gestures that you sorely needed.

"Still jealous my Mishka?"

You said nothing just stayed in is warmth “oh my,my dear i love you and you only”

DAZAI

we all know how dazai flirts with all girls but this time he went over the limit and spent the whole time talking to the waitress despite her and YOUR discomfort. It was supposed to be your date and what does he do? Flirts and is with another girl!!!?

When you were then on your way home he tried to talk to you and start a conversation but your responses were a simple "mh mh" or "yeah sure" in a cold and uncaring tone and this behavior went on until the next morning. You had calmed down and were getting up and noticed that the raven-haired boy had already disappeared to who knows where....

You got ready to go to work and noticed that your boyfriend was already there,without thinking much about it I took the chair and stood beside him linking your arms to his upper arm

He looked at you with a confused look

"Bella! You need"

No answer

"Bella?"

No answer,just you snuggling into his arm

He understood and left you there while he did everything but work

NIKOLAI

Having a bright and cheeky nature, Nikolai would naturally draw attention from others.

You observed with a sinking heart as Nikolai struck up conversations with appealing girls.

You wondered, your mind racing with uncertainties and fears, "What if Nikolai prefers the company of those girls over me?"

You couldn't get rid of the uneasy sensation in the air that night as they sat by the fireplace because you couldn't look Nikolai in the eyes."What troubles you, my love?" With a soft voice, Nikolai questioned.

But you remained silent.You rushed up from where you were sitting and hopped on him, giving him a tight embrace without saying anything. The man realized after some consideration that you were probably overthinking things.

Nikolai held your hands in his and soothed your anxious state with kind words of passion and love as his eyes softened with tenderness. He explained that while he appreciated the beauty of others, it was you who held the key to his heart, and no one else was comparable to you.

RANPO

Ranpo acts and behaves in a very childish manner; he is direct in everything he says and does, frequently acting without hesitation.

He doesn't even understand it at first—he's the greatest investigator in all of Japan, yet he's incredibly naive—he doesnt even realise hes making you jealous and kinda feel bad.He didn't even look at you during a investigation in which you were tasked with assisting him, and he ignored you if you had something to say. All he was thinking about was that case and how he could make himself stand out and demonstrate that he was the greatest, the smartest, he and he only...

You'd be lying if you said this behavior wasn't upsetting you.You choose to remain in the distance, maybe to let time pass or in hopes that someone would eventually take notice of you.

Ranpo only returned to you a few hours later, mumbling about how foolish everyone was in comparison to him after Ranpo's Ultra Deduction had solved the case.

You didn't respond, and he realized right away—not because of his incredible deduction, per se, but also because he observed your depressing attitude.

He let you snuggle and love him because he knew deep down thats what you wanted and opened his arms to make you feel better and in hope you'll forgive him.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs hcs #nikolai gogol #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #ranpo imagines #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #bsd ranpo #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem reader #dazai x you #edogawa ranpo x reader #edogawa ranpo

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theemporium · 2 years ago

Note

33 with remus in the otp dialogue prompt pleaaaaaaaase ><

33. “I don’t want them. I want you.”

Remus Lupin was usually quite a dignified drunk.

It was rare for him to get to a state where he embarrassed himself, even when he pushed his limits to blackout conditions. He, by some grace that James and Sirius envies, always managed to keep himself together quite well.

Until tonight, it seemed.

“Let’s go.”

“Darling, we can’t go.”

“They won’t notice.”

“Remus, it’s our wedding. I think they will notice.”

The day had been perfect down to every single small detail and you were blessed enough to share it with your closest friends and family. It was a small event, nothing glamorous or grand because that didn’t match either of your styles. It was a simple ceremony with a reception just for you to let loose and enjoy the love you shared with the people you cared about most.

It had hit just past eleven when Remus had stumbled over to you, yelling ‘my wife’ comically loud before attaching himself to you and he had yet to let go.

He had wrapped his arms around you, his sleeves rolled to his elbows and his blazer lost after his third drink. His head was nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sloppy kisses placed against your skin and drunken serenades made as he sang along with whatever music that was playing through the speakers. The summer night air was thick and sweet and made your cheeks glow, and fuck, Remus had never been more in love.

“You look so pretty, m’love,” he grumbled against your skin, his fingers fiddling with the small details of your dress. It was simple and white and it was truly nothing special, but you looked like a goddess in it to him.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr Lupin,” you teased lightly, your hand coming up to tangle themselves in his messy, sandy-brown hair. Whatever product Sirius had put in it at the start of the day was long gone and completely helpless now.

“Good because I plan on fucking you, Mrs Lupin,” Remus retorted bluntly.

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Don’t laugh, I am being deadly serious,” he whined softly and his hands squeezed your waist a little tighter. “I wanna fuck my wife.”

“We have guests to entertain, love,” you said to him, though you were unable to bite back the smile on your face every time he used the word wife. “They need us down here.”

“I don’t care what they need,” he muttered.

You tried to hold back your giggles as his nose brushed against a slightly sensitive spot. “Don’t you wanna dance and celebrate with your friends?”

“I don’t want them. I want you,” Remus said to you before he lifted his head, twirling you around so you could take in his flushed cheeks and hooded eyes. “I wanna fuck you in this dress.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded his head, his hands bunching the material of your dress in tight fists. “Been thinking about it since I saw you walk down the aisle in it.”

“That’s a long time,” you teased.

“Then you know how desperate I am,” Remus countered.

“Half an hour more then we’ll sneak off, okay?” you compromised, holding out your pinky to him.

Remus pouted but relented as he linked his pinky with yours. “Thirty minutes and not a second more.”

“Always a man of virtue, Mr Lupin.”

“Virtue is the last thing on my mind when it comes to you, Mrs Lupin.”

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eclipzee3 · 10 months ago

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˗ˏˋ 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝔂 𝓷 𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓴𝔂 ˎˊ˗

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚ʚ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ɞ˚

•°`` 1.9k? ``°•

ㅤ`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹°｡･:*˚:✧｡☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:

➵ title came from putting kinky and pink together. Pinky just didn't sound right, so I put both, lol.

➵ tw sex toys, price being the sweetheart he is. Oral sex, p n v, not very kinky, but idk what to put for a title 😭

Tip: If you just want to skip to the smut, go to the image of the cat! (It's okay, I understand).

He loved your pink room, your pink clothes.. your pink everything. (And your pussy obvs) He loved spoiling you for your plushies and makeup... even going as far to get you hello kitty toilet paper. Which you only convinced him to do by telling him it was limited edition or something. He couldn't quite remember. But what he did was one of your orders following that one.

You often asked him to get you things, which he wasn't opposed to. He'd do it every time, happy to see your joy when the packages came. But this time, he just liked to see what you would get.

It was some link you sent him from Amazon. A link to a cart. Which he rightfully looked through, curiosity taking over his thumb. He was greeted with multiple sex toys. What my cock isn't enough now?

Needless to say, he was a bit jealous. Jealous of a dildo? Maybe. But could you blame him? It was a fucking pink one too. Even the dirty stuff had to be cute. He continued through the order, buttplugs.. specifically the ones with gems. All sizes for some reason. He knew you were far too tight for all of them, but that would be a problem for later.

Ribbons. Ribbons? Why ribbons? And why is it the thickest ribbon he'd ever seen? He knew. But he didn't want to know. Not now.

Up until this point, you thought he'd never go through your orders. He had never before, why would he when you decided to get sex toys the one time?

One time, it was indeed. Price kept looking through the order, the classic fuzzy handcuffs making eye contact with him. He loved you. He really did. He loved the sex life you guys had. He loved everything about it, but everything in his being was him praying those ribbons weren't to tie him up and do weird shit to him.

John wasn't a very kinky man. Dick inside pussy, done. He never got the extra stuff. It was sex, not a Damm puzzle trying to figure out which hole the toy went in? He knew you. Inside out, and this was something he was.. clearly not familiar with. He was a bit scared. But at least the rest of the order was body wash.. and 2 large bottles of lube.. for some reason.

`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

You never knew he had gone through the order, so when it finally came a few weeks later you were intending on surprising John.

So when you perked up on the couch bolting to the door, John was already getting nervous. He really hoped you weren't about to cuck him with a damn dildo and tie him up with those fucking stupid ribbons. John was making his own personal vendetta against the ribbons.

Like you didn't have enough already? He groaned, rubbing his face as you had already brought the package on the dining table. He got up walking over to you.

"Why don't we open it later, yeah? Watch a movie?" He suggested. Jesus, he could already feel his body betraying him. Getting tied up wasn't something he would like, but his groin was really telling a whole other story. Maybe it was just ribbon? Right?

"No.. I wanna open it now. You'll love the stuff I got, I promise." You smiled at him, not noticing his whole little crisis going on. You just went to get a knife to open the package, revealing.. thankfully, the body wash on top.

"I wanted to try out a new scent, I heard good things about it." It was vanilla macaroon or something like that. He was mainly focused on the pink underneath the bodywash. That dildo hated him. Stupid fucking piece of plastic.

He could see the fuzzy pink.. the shiny metal of the 3 fucking butt plugs. Fucking three. "I bet it smells good." He choked out. It was only now when you finally started to notice his demeanor. And his odd placement. His hands were on the table, right at the edge. His body was pressed into them, perfectly aligning his junk with his hands. Thankfully, he was able to hide it.

You grinned, knowing what was under the bodywash before pulling the bottle up, revealing your.. toys. John let out an audible sigh, slight relief he didn't have to act like he didn't know. Now, he didn't know what to say. Maybe what he had thought about the toys?

"Why'd you get all this? Is my dick not 'nough now?" He said in his gruff voice, slight chuckle following. You just laughed, shaking your head. "No, I just thought it would be funny. I already named the dildo, his name is Bartholomew."

"Wonderful name." John followed, swallowing. You even named the thing. Part of him wanted to know if you had named his.. or if that would just be weird. Maybe it's just john? Or captain..? John was really overthinking the dildo. Hated the dildo.

"You really need the dildo- Bartholomew?" He corrected, immediately feeling self regret. Was he now respecting it?

"Yes, because what If you're not here and I'm lonely?" You were really just fucking with him. It was a dildo, just something to fuck when you were bored or something. Or when john was deployed.

"I think that I'm much better than a hunk of plastic, love." He said, glaring at it. He couldn't stand the thought of that taking his place. If anything, you could've gotten a mold of his instead. Not some pink thing with little to no detail.

"I agree." You responded, glancing at him. "I think it'd be better if you had cuffs on, though." You added, watching him turn his glare towards you. "If anything, you should be wearing the damn cuffs, sweetheart." He moved off the table, pouring the box out on the table.. little clunks following before he grabbed the dildo packaging, opening it and pulling it out before putting it to his junk.. trying to compare sizes with his memory. "Mine's bigger anyway." He concluded, dropping the dildo on the table with a plop.

"What if this is bigger? You jealous?" You teased, grabbing the dildo as well before slapping it for fun. It did have recoil. That was obvious.

"No." John replied dryly.

It was a few weeks after the purchase of the sex toys. You had really forgotten about the dildo until john walked in your room one day, messing around in there for fun. He was just messing around with you, looking at the various things in your room. It was all pink. All of it. Pink comforter, pink anything. If It was in there, it had pink.

"Why do you have so many serums..?" John turned back from your vanity, looking through all of them. You did have too many, but they had cute packaging, so it was fine. "'Cause." You replied, leaning back on your bed. You had a princess bed, obviously. You were a princess, after all. John was the one that insisted on them, actually. And he was definitely correct on getting them. You had little things scattered through the curtains, like personal items. Pins from places you been, little self awards, etc. John looked at your vanity for a second more before going to your nightstand out of curiosity, opening the drawer, only to be met with what he dreaded most. That stupid fucking dildo. He'd stand by that til the end of time.

His dick was better. He knew that, you knew it. So why did you need this pink dildo? "Why you still got this?" He held it out, earning a laugh from you. "I was gonna put a sharpie face on it, never got around to it. Do you want it?" You teased, and he just gave you a glare. "No." He said, observing it before dropping it in the drawer and getting on the bed as well.

"You have a boyfriend, dear." He said dismissively of the dildo. He no longer wanted to call it by its name. It didn't deserve to. If anything, his dick should have its own wardrobe and identity. But even his dick knew he belonged with you.

"So I'm just supposed to suffer without you when you're gone? Or use my fingers? It's not exactly ideal, john." You said a smile on your face. He only watched you silently. Thinking.

"Have you used it yet?" He asked. He really hoped you hadn't.

"Why are you asking?" You only answered with a question, john moving atop you.

"I just wanna know.. tell me." He purred, obviously sweet talking you before he kissed your neck, nibbling on it as you only giggled.

"Why should i?" You said, playing with his dog tags as he practically ate at your neck.

"Dont make this hard for me..." He pecked your lips, one of his hands creeping down your legs and rubbing them.

"What're you doing, john?" You asked playfully, watching his hand cup your pussy, rubbing it through your panties. His hands were always better than yours. John really knew how to make you melt because soon he was in between your legs, his tongue lapping at your heat.

His nose pressed against your clit as his beard tickled you a bit.. you hands tugging at his slightly grown out hair. "Fuck- god..!" You bucked your hips, watching as he grinned. His hands were placed over your thighs, keeping you close as he licked and sucked your poor clit. His nails dug into your skin while he continued to ravish your pussy, keeping you still.

You were a mess already. John knew you. Like he knew every spot to make you moan his name, to make your hips jolt into his face.

He shook his face in your cunt, your breath hitching as he slurped vigorously. His lips moved up and wrapped around you clit, sucking hard as he watched you writhe above him.

One hand came down.. one finger probing your entrance as he sucked your clit hard.. then soft.. then only giving it little licks as his finger slipped inside you, easily with how wet you were. He curled it, watching as you squirmed even more. He added a second finger, repeating the action, but faster. You moaned, eyes rolling back. It felt so good coming from him. Any other man and you would've been dry, but john wasn't some stupid man. He was experienced with you, of course.

"You like that ?" He edged you on, only making you nod as he continued to slurp at your cunt. You were so much wetter than you thought. The room was filled with lewd sounds of John's fingers entering you and leaving you and his sucking.. it was all too much. "John.. oh my God. Don't stop.." Your words were barely audible as you shut your eyes, your pussy tightening around his fingers as they slowed down, his tongue hardly licking your clit now as he watched you melt above him. You licked your bottom lip, looking at john as your thighs tightened around his head, his tongue gliding back down to suck your juices. "Tastes so good, babe." He purred, only making you more lustful.

He finally stopped, moving up between your legs before giving you a kiss, John's hand slipping up your top to cup your tit. You kissed him back, tasting yourself on his lips before he began undoing his belt, quickly getting rid of his pants and boxers.. slipping his shirt off as he nibbled on your neck, his cock rubbing against your clit as he moved his hips slowly. It was purely just to rub your clit and get him off while he groaned softly, taking in your scent.

John was covered in hair on his chest, and his happy trail made you go mad. His dick had to be better, though. As you bucked your hips, moaning a bit yourself while you tried to get more stimulation. John then slipped himself inside you, earning a gasp from you as he started slow. Even after fucking him so many times you never really stretched enough for it not to hurt a bit.. so every time you did fuck his cock always managed to make your cunt falter. And that's what he was doing now. "Tell me.." He taunted.

You watched him slip in and out of you steadily.. his nose still buried in your neck as he began to get quicker.. your hands squeezing at his back a bit only for him to begin to pound into you, at the perfect spot. You moaned, not holding back as he suckled on your neck, surely marking you. He didn't hold back, eventually moving from your neck and holding your face in place as he fucked you.. really pounded into you relentlessly. "No.." you weakly responded, getting a smile from him.

"I can tell you're just as tight as were last time.." He grinned, knowing his effect on you.

You weren't really capable of making noise now. Not when he was hitting right at your cervix, little whimpers streaming from your mouth as he kept going. "Is that dick good? Hm?" He grunted out, hardly getting a little nod from you. You could barely move. Your nails were clawed in his back.. and you could only register how good it felt... and how good he was. "Yeah?"

He fucked into you, beginning to rut his cock further inside you instead as he inched closer to release, only making him go rougher. "Fuck.." He hummed roughly, keeping a strong hold on you as your cunt only leaked more arousal.. he was practically milking you of everything you had while you just let him, the pleasure far too much to stop.

Soon, john was even getting sloppy, trying his best not to cum, but it really was the inevitable. He stayed inside you, rubbing your clit as gentle as possible, strings of little whimpers and moans coming from you. Your neighbors were definitely sick of the weekly fucks.

"Shh.. quiet, princess." He said softly. He was a gruff man, so his soft voice was more of a soft smokers voice. To shush you, he leant down and gave you a long kiss.. rubbing circles into you clit while his cock began to slowly piston into you. You kissed him back, his tongue entering your mouth as you made even more noise for him.

Your back arched, hips bucking into his hand while you tried to get more stimulation, and john gave you exactly that. His hand quickened, as well as his thrusts, while you just couldn't take it.

Your pussy was absolutely covered in your arousal, and the base of his cock was collecting your juices, creating little froth. John's finger grazed over your clit, and that was what made you break. You let out a lengthy moan, and it didn't take long for him to realize you came. He took his finger off, instead pulling from the kiss, creating a string of spit between you two. "Good girl.." Your pussy appreciated those words, your thighs trying to close desperately as you shook a bit, squirming while you felt him fuck you a bit faster, helping you come from your high.

Your mind was blank.. you couldn't even think of the consequences if he came inside you, but by then he was buried deep in that cunt of yours, fighting back moans as he came.. rutting up a few times. "S'so good." You mumbled, barely audible. John just chuckled softly, pulling out despite your pussy trying to suck him back in.

He moved back up, kissing your neck again before getting off the bed and slipping his boxers on, taking your shirt off. "I'm gonna run you a bath, alright?" You nodded, him picking you up while you clung to him, allowing him to bring you to your shared bathroom, turning the faucet on for the bath while you stood in it.. only feeling his cum seep out of you. John acted with a towel, cleaning you off with pleasure and a sweet smile. He was definitely better than your dildo.

He would be throwing that out tonight, for sure.

Honestly, I lowkey hate the dildo too. Don't blame him.

Anyways, this took a while. Sorry if the smut is bad, I tried my best, lol 😭🫶🏻 I could've added more detail to the smut, but idk I kinda just wanna get this out of my drafts, so here you go

#john price smut #john price x female reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x f!reader #john price #cod x reader

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uwukillmenowowo · 3 months ago

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I was in my class, break time, playing CRK and "Love in Paradise" came up.

AT THE SAME I PULLED WIND ARCHER COOKIE AND I WAS LAUGHING SO FUCKING HARD THE TEACHER SCOLDED ME

Love in the Wind

[Yandere! Wind Archer Cookie x Human! Reader]

Notes:

Reader is female

Reader is a hardcore CRK player.

Buys all the limited packs, saves her gems for Super Epic+ cookies

Etc Etc Etc

But something went... wrong...

When Wind Archer first came out, you were the first to get him and his legendary costume.

You showed him much more love than you have any other cookie. Absolutely maxing him out until he had 1 Million combat power on his own. You got very lucky with the RNG.... Dang...

On the other hand... He loved it.

When he first came, he was already told how he was simply part of a game.

But after experiencing all your affection... He felt something in his code go wrong.

He started admiring you from beyond the screen, making sure his dialogue greeted you first.

Seeing you get all excited all over him flustered him beyond belief.

That's when things got bad.

The others cookies noticed Wind Archer acting out of place.

In turn the others starting acting out too, wanting to be a part of your team, wanting to be useful for their user.

Wind Archer did not like that... and decided to do something drastic

The Unthinkable happened... You were baking a cake when you couldn't find your phone. You looked around desperately since you needed to do your daily tasks. But that's when you heard a loud explosion. That's when you realized that you dropped your phone in the oven. the last thing you saw was your phone glitching all shades of green.

{Second POV}

~~~~~

Waking up slowly, you found yourself in an unfamiliar... yet familiar place. Sitting up, you were shocked to see yourself in clothes that you know all too well. After all, you designed it after Wind Archer Cookie's Legendary costume. "Morning Sleepyhead. You've been resting for a while."

You recognized the voice instantly. When you looked to where the voice came from, you saw the familiar green frosting. Stammering over your words, you stared at Wind Archer Cookie in shock, confusion, but most of all, amazement. "Are you... Real..?" You tilted your head. Wind Archer chuckled softly and sat beside you on the grass. "I swear I thought you were dead when you were laying in the soil."

You sweatdropped and rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" Blushing in embarrassment, you chuckled and shook your head no. "Tell me though, who's [User]" In shock, you looked away. That was your username in Cookie Run Kingdom. Does hat mean that all the cookies you have are sentient..? "My... Player name..."

Wind Archer Cookie just smiled. "Anyways I've got all your could want here, all you can need here, just you and me my dear, my love for life!" You gasped at what Wind Archer said. "Wha- I-I'm not that" you blushed and looked away. Only for Wind Archer to suddenly be behind you and hug you tight. "I'm what you want here, I'm what you need dear, Just you and me my Love in Paradise! Now til' the end of time, From here on out you're mine. All mine~"

Flinching, you back up. "Yeah- No I can't stay here that's a fact- Are you sure this ain't a trap?" Wind Archer smirked and moved closer to you. "How cute of you to think, but last I checked, our codes are linked." You felt pale as you bit your lip. "Code?" "You're adorable~" Wind archer pat your head. "Our codes are connected due to your game crashing down on our heads but fear not cuz you're not dead. 'Cause I got all you could want here, all you could need dear, Under my spell, we're stuck in paradise. No one can come or go. My palace stays unknown-"

"No- No..." You look around in desperation to find a way to get out. "I don't belong here! There's something wrong here! I won't be drawn to Love in Paradise- not til the end of time there is no way-" Backing up on the bed, you were simply followed by Wind Archer.

"You're mine~! All mine~!"

I thought of this on the spot- I love this song and I--

WAHDBAWBDHLKHAWDNBJB

I may have made multiple mistakes but ehhhh.....

#Yandere #YandereXReader #Reader #wind archer cookie #wind archer crk #Wind Archer X Reader #Cookie Run Kingdom #CRK #CRK X Reader #love in paradise

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gold-pavilion · 11 months ago

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Toman and Buddhism + Tenjiku and Taoism

Another post to cover references in Tokyo Revengers!

This time, I'll be covering the links to two religions to be found in two gangs in the series, reference by reference, with the according explanation of each.

Some of these may be already known, I know one of them sure is (the whole buddhist manji confusion thing yeah yeah) but still, for the sake of a tidy compilation and of providing more detail, I'll go through them too. Some others are a lot less noticed, like Tenjiku's lean towards Tao, so it'll be best to lay down eeeeeeverything I've caught during my time enjoying this series. Plus, I'm pretty excited to get some of those less-known facts out here!!

Warning though, it's lengthy.

Let's start with Tokyo Manji Gang:

- Firstly, the gang's name and how it's written.

Despite Mikey suggesting the name as a short form of Tokyo Manjiro Gang, putting himself front and center, the kanji that ended up forming the name of Tokyo Manji Gang show that it went in a different direction of meaning. The manji used for the middle part ended up not being the same one from the name Manjiro, but a manji written as 卍. Aloud it's read the same way (many, many, many kanji are homophones), but has a different meaning.

卍 (manji) is an extremely common buddhist symbol (not even limited to japanese buddhism, but in hinduism and other aligned east-asian religions too), which represents the path of Buddha and the endless cycle of rebirth through samsara; the pursuit of leading a more spiritually balanced existence until the soul can reach enlightenment. In other words, it's nothing but deeply buddhist.

(To answer a common question around it: can it be called a swastika? Yes. The symbol in general, with each of the million variations that have popped up in different cultures, can be called a swastika as a broad term. There are a fuckton of swastikas. They mean a fuckton of different things. The tilt and the direction in which this one "spins" makes it different from other swastikas though, and it's always best to be precise and call this one manji.)

Moving on,

- Reunion spot.

The Musashi Shrine (based, but not exactly taken from any of the real-life shrines and temples of similar name in Tokyo, as far as I know) is a shinto-buddhist temple. And, apparently, a place where the founders hung out from time to time, but I'll add to that later!!

It's cute to me that the Toman members seem to use the temple very respectfully. They always meet in it at night waaay after it's closed (daytime meetings have always taken place in different locations, never the temple during visiting hours), they've never once set foot even near the oratory/sanctum/other buildings, never been seen bringing the motorcycles anywhere they shouldn't, and the one time a character was seen using the public temizuya (the little stone fountain where visitors purify their hands and mouth), he was proper about it in terms of pouring water into his hand to rinse his mouth with, not getting the ladle or the rest of the water dirty, as one should always do.

A fun fact: in Google Maps, buddhist temples are marked with the manji symbol!

- Gang's manifesto.

Embroidered on the chest of the gang uniform, you can see the text 天上天下唯我独尊 ("Above the earth and below the heavens, I alone shall be honored"), which is the gang's manifesto or motto. Sounds just like something Mikey would choose, yeah.

That phrase is also of buddhist origin; famously, the words spoken by Buddha Gautama Siddharta (bear in mind that buddhism isn't a religion with one god or anything like that, anyone enlightened can become a Buddha and many figures have been granted that status, but Gautama is the first and main one, the creator of the doctrine) when he was born. To be honest, this is very much interpretative, but I've come to get the impression that it's not so much a power or ego statement, but rather an expression of cultivating and honoring yourself…? It's absolutely up to personal reading and I'm absolutely not an expert. But those are certainly THE Buddha's words.

- Ceremonial sash.

Another part of their uniform that bears a slight reference: the sash worn by the commander, vice-commander, captains and vice-captains during important fights.

These are tasuki, sashes originally worn by shinto-buddhist priests during ceremonies, in order to keep long sleeves and such in place. However, eventually, they also began being worn by samurai and all sorts of warriors, 'cause of their convenience. In modern times, they even started being used by just about anybody who wears traditional clothing but also does manual work and needs the sleeves out of the way. So it can be concluded that, over time, they stopped being strongly linked to religious practicers. In fact, even biker gangs in general ended up adopting the use of tasuki! Not for their religious origins, but for the warrior part; a bōsōzoku gang member wearing one would look very prepared and determined for a fight.

That's why overall, Tokyo Manji Gang having them is only a relative reference; they could be paying homage to their reference religion, as they could be only honoring gang traditions.

- Additional notes about the leader.

I feel it's important to add up all these little factors of Mikey's choosing, with other little details about him as a person that kinda make it all make sense.

If I say "Mikey seems to be religious, to an extent", I understand this can carry a bunch of tricky connotations. Japanese religion isn't exercised the same way it is in other places, someone being religious SURE AS HECK doesn't mean the same things it means in the christian west. Shinto-buddhism is so commonplace in Japan, most people partake in all kinds of religious practices without even thinking of them as strictly religious, such as new year's celebrations, casual prayer during shrine visits, purchasing and giving charms and such. Religion is integrated in life in a lot of extremely chill ways.

And we can observe a lot of things about Mikey that put him quite above the average in terms of his relationship with local tradition and religion. His house is a huge traditional-style family home, his family is hinted to be active in religious practice (remember Emma's appearances during the Christmas Showdown arc? How she mentioned that their family does a lot of temple visits, and even she considered it weird at that time of the year?), he's much more prone to wearing traditional clothing than his peers, his motif in extra clothing designs is the lion-dog (temple guardians; statues of these can often be found in them), his personal beliefs around death and relationship to the dead run deeper than others' to the point they find him disturbing when he talks about Shinichiro or Baji still being with him... many little things that aren't that deep on their own, of course, but when added up they paint a pretty coherent picture of the guy.

And so, it does make a lot of sense that, even from childhood, a temple was a regular place for Mikey to hang out with his friends, leading to the birth of Toman in one. And it makes a lot of sense that he made all those little choices about the way the gang would be styled. In my opinion, it's likely that those things just all came natural to him because they're a part of his background and worldview. Of course, how actively religious he is, how much he believes in the things he happens to know and how much exactly he might know about buddhism are all up to headcanoning and interpretation. Personally, I'm just a roleplayer that takes it as a relevant part of his character.

- Following a Buddha?

A little out-of-TR-universe element that I love to bring up, 'cause it's just hilarious and cool as hell, is the creation of this statue:

This part of the 2022 Tokyo Revengers exhibition straight up imitates the famous Reclining Buddha in the Wat Pho temple, Thailand.

The ENORMOUS statue depicts the moment Buddha reaches nirvana, and his enlightened soul is at rest. The golden Mikey statue that imitates it very much intentionally likens him to a Buddha; funny to note that the exhibition staff even prayed to the statue, as you can read in the tweet itself.

What does this mean about Mikey's character? Well, this isn't within text in Tokyo Revengers, just a little outside factor, so I wouldn't take it too literally or too seriously, but it's interesting nonetheless. Personally, I see it as a hint that Mikey was supposed to be on his own little quest to enlightenment, or had the potential to be. Grappling with morality without having a natural sense of what's right, wrong, too much or enough is a major thing with his character. I can also imagine it might just be meant to represent the godlike view others have of him, the guidance they sought from him. Take it as you will!

The important thing is just that it exists, to confirm that there is an intentional connection of some type between the Buddha and Mikey.

Thaaaaat concludes the Toman and Buddhism section of this post.

Whew!! That was a whole lot.

The Tenjiku and Taoism section coming now is shorter, but I'm sure it contains interesting and less-known things (at least, I've never seen anybody talk about these)!

So let's see, Tao references in Tenjiku:

- Gang name.

Tenjiku is a now-obsolete word that translated directly to "heaven", while simultaneously being the japanese word for the country India (as taken from the chinese pronunciation, Tianzhu).

In modern times, it can be found mostly in ancient literature, the most prominent example being Journey to the West. Given that Kakucho and Izana mentioned this book and seemed to have knowledge of it as kids, we can conclude that's where they got the name of their gang from.

Why would they use the word for India to name their kingdom? What does this have to do with Tao? I'll get into that properly now:

- Kakucho, Izana & Journey to the West.

Journey to the West is one of the four great chinese classic novels (along with Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Outlaws of the Marsh, and Dream of the Red Chamber) which are enormous, ENORMOUS influences on east-asian literature and fiction in general. Journey to the West, itself, is considered the most popular east-asian literary work overall; of course, being super well-known in Japan, too. (To give my favorite funny example of just how omnipresent it is, y'know Dragon Ball? Hit anime series Dragon Ball? Unabashedly based on Journey to the West, which was to thank for most of its initial local popularity.)

It's the story of the buddhist monk Tang Sanzang, who travels to Tenjiku, to India, to that certain heavenly kingdom, to obtain sacred texts for Buddha Gautama Siddharta (the guy I described as THE Buddha in the Tokyo Manji Gang section above). The quest doubles as a search and exercise of enlightenment, as Tang Sanzang is aided by three protectors that are atoning for their sins and learning from him. The main guardian and arguably the true protagonist of the book is Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, a fighter "so strong he could carry a mountain on each shoulder, and still dash as fast as a meteor". It's a huge, epic, 100-chapter monster of a book, in which each chapter is already a fantastic and entertaining anecdote about the characters or what happens in their travels, but also a long spiritual journey that pretty much serves to subtly teach the principles of Tao (term that can be translated to "the path", chinese religion and philosophy).

A tangent: let me just show you how large it is (and why I haven't been able to finish it, 'cause I cannot take this brick of a book anywhere lmaoooo).

(Cover says Journey to the West: The Adventures of the Monkey King. It's in spanish.)

My guess is that Izana and Kakucho studied about it or read some chapters in school, 'cause dang, there's no way they read all of this at that age?!?! BUT ANYWAY.

While there's obviously quite some buddhist influence in the story, most of what it works with throughout is rooted in chinese folklore and Taoism. The edition of the book I have even begins with extensive notes and introductory explanations about Tao, as its themes of harmony with the universe, self-cultivation, internal alchemy, its main ethics and values, etc etc etc are the basis from which the book is built up. The characters very actively engage with Tao. Sun Wukong is an ardent student of Tao who obtains a bunch of powers through it, for one.

I've gone into this much into detail because Kakucho and Izana make it pretty explicit that, to them, Izana is like monk Tang Sanzang leading to Tenjiku, and Kakucho is like his guardian of unmatched strength, Sun Wukong.

In the end of Journey to the West, it's both Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong that accomplish their goal and also obtain enlightenment, finally ascending to buddhahood. Had Izana and Kakucho's journey with Tenjiku reached their original destination (not "to become a criminal syndicate that controls Japan" but "to build a kingdom where everyone without a home could exist"), had it been like Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong's pilgrimage… they would've learned true balance and they would've found the necessary enlightenment.

Again, I find this little connection with characters that could've been on a quest towards buddhahood, but as far as things went in the main TR timelines, all failed.

- Uniform & logo.

Finally, something lighter and quicker to add, haha.

There are symbols and references that are so so so widespread that they become more of an aesthetic detail than a symbol with meaning, in the eyes of the general public. The yin-yang is one of those symbols that just… appears in a lot of places, fashionably, and one kinda gets used to seeing it without thinking much about it. Sometimes it's not meant to stand for much more than a decorative detail, yes, that definitely happens, but sometimes it's very much a thoughtful choice. With Tenjiku, given its connection to Taoism, I'm gonna treat the yin-yang as a meaningful choice.

So! On the back of the uniform we have a yin-yang, Taoist symbol that represents the balance of the two complementary and opposing forces of the universe (note: it's not a good vs evil type of thing, as tends to happen with western black-white dualism, but rather… the fact that reality needs to be composed of push and pull to get anywhere, hard and soft things with their own function, sun and shade. A common comparison is how a mountain will have a sunny side and a shady side when looked at in a certain moment, but the sun and shade will switch over at another time of day, in a needed cycle). Other features of the uniform are a mao collar instead of a more common style for gang jackets, and an intense red color, the main auspicious and prosperous color in chinese culture. These last two little features could easily be coincidental, but when paired with the yin-yang, I feel like it's intended to lean towards chinese aesthetics.

And with that,

I end this reference post!

Did you learn anything you didn't know? Did you enjoy learning it? Any thoughts? I LOVE TO TALK ABOUT THESE THINGS, SO FEEL FREE TO DROP BY MY ASKBOX with any comments or questions or such!!

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers meta #tokyo manji gang #toman #tenjiku #kurokawa izana #sano manjiro #izana kurokawa #manjiro sano #mikey #kakucho #thoughts and talk and so #tokyo rev #wanted to write this one forever #just never quite got around to it

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wings-of-ink · 3 months ago

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I was thinking about an ask I wrote some time ago where MC asked Duri to teach them, if possible, to also be able to turn into a wolf. And Duri, in your answer, used the opportunity to make fun of MC.

But here is a funny scenario: What if against everyone's expectations, MC did end up turning into a wolf after following Duri's instructions. After all, we don't know MC's true origins. By all we know, MC may have some God blood in them, and may possibly be able to turn into an animal and just didn't know.

If you want it would be lovely if, like the original ask, both Oswin and Duri were present. But I understand if you want to limit the scenario to just Duri.

Hilarity and chaos would ensue. This is a fun one, lol. ^_^

Link to the first post:

Picking up where we left off:

You feel the burn of embarrassment as you turn your back on the laughing god and start to follow Oswin. You can't help but pout too...you wanted it so badly. Duri may have made a fool of you, but it doesn't stop you from admiring their wolf-form. You want that for yourself, it calls to your spirit. There's a pull, an unspoken link with your soul.

As you make it through the trees, Oswin sighs heavily. "I should have interrupted sooner...I shouldn't have left you alone with that idiot..."

"It's fine. Maybe I was silly to ask such a thing." You shrink in on yourself.

Oswin stops. "I don't think it's silly. This world is more fantastic than either of us thought...it's not wrong to want to play a bigger part in that."

You can't help but smile a bit. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. You're already fantastic in other ways - you don't need to be a magic wolf or anything to be great." He turns to you with a wide and sweet smile, his eyes shining with something unspoken.

The humiliation you feel slowly drifts away as you match his gaze...until his brow begins to furrow. "What's wrong?" you ask.

"Your...well, your eyes..."

"What about them?" You touch the side of your face, perhaps you have dirt near your eyes.

"They're...um, they're glowing." Oswin looks a mix of fright and wonder as he stares at you.

You can barely register what he says before the light bursts from your eyes and surrounds you. You see Oswin flinch from the brightness as you feel a sudden warm sensation in all your limbs. And then, it's over. You look around, and nothing seems unusual...except...now you feel shorter. Why am I shorter? And your clothes...are on the ground. Why am I naked!?

Oswin looks down at you, mouth agape.

You make to speak, but it comes out as a yip. Oh...oooooh.

Duri rushes through the brush behind you. "What was that? I felt..." They spot you.

As you meet Duri's eyes you feel a flood or warmth - a connection - and your heart pulls in excitement. Whatever feelings you had for Duri before are amplified and a whine leaves your throat without your realization.

Duri cups a hand over their mouth and looks from you to Oswin and then back. "They're so cute..."

You growl.

Oswin kneels. "I don't know what to say..."

You watch him closely and notice he's smiling. He's giving you the same look he gets when he sees puppies and seems to be resisting reaching out to pat you. I think he likes this...

Gently, Duri turns your attention back to them. "I had a feeling you had secrets, lambchop, but nothing like this...I hope we're not related..."

You show your teeth - are you smiling or snarling - that's a gamble Duri will need to take.

"What a pretty coat too." Duri guffaws.

I wonder what I look like...

The demigod grins. "Difficult to describe, but your face is black and so are your ears, but the rest of you is a lovely mottled silver. Your eyes are the same color but much lighter than normal - they sort of glow."

You tilt your head.

"And, yes, I can hear you...in a way."

Oswin scoots into your line of sight. "Would you...would you permit me to pat your head? Please?"

Your tail wags.

Oswin gently rubs your head and ears - it feels spectacular. Duri joins in and scritches your chin. No wonder wolves and dogs scramble for this.

Humming in thought, Duri looks you over. "I wonder why you are normal wolf size...maybe you'll grow into it - I was really small when I started. You should get as big as me and we can terrorize the forest together...scare the shit out of the locals." A wicked grin plasters across their face.

Oswin is cupping your furry cheeks, smiling as he gazes at you. "This is wonderful, but I do hope you know how to change back..."

Shit.

#god cursed if #asks #twine if #gc ro reactions #gc ro povs #gc ro duri #gc ro oswin

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yukurie · 4 months ago

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Ok! So Danny has their living body that is 100% physical but can still use some ghost powers and then they have their ghost form that for all intensive purposes is closest to their “true self” yeah? Based on pure emotion, instinct, and thought processes, etc that make Danny who they are as a person right? These two forms are often depicted as linked in a fundamental way where if one gets hurt the other does as well should Danny change, what if that also reflected on Danny’s internal self views? Here comes my whole idea, Danny is transfem and this kinda starts to reflect on their forms starting from her ghost form and since the two are linked her living body starts to follow

(sorry I know transmasc Danny is the common interpretation of Tran!Danny but I’m not transmasc and don’t wanna step on any toes or say anything offensive, it’s not my experience so imma base it off of me and what I kinda want for myself sorry)

Basically Danny (at least for a while) doesn’t notice anything (she’s been a little busy after half dying after all) and neither do Sam or Tucker at first, until Danny starts to get used to her new ghostly self and starts accepting that thats just part of who she is now her ghostly body starts to act on another thing in her mind that she isn’t fully aware of or is aware of but tries to push down: her body going through masculine puberty doesn’t feel right, she hates it, she steals glances at the girls around her even Sam and Jazz and has itches of envy before she pushes them down. This had been going on for a while before the accident but now that she’s already learning to accept what she is now and all the other hectic things going on she’s been too stressed to fully suppress the thoughts and in her limited downtime she can’t quite squash down the feelings like she used to

Her ghost body, the body that reflects who Danny truly is without the restrictions of flesh, begins to act on those thoughts slowly which Tucker and Sam notice (and eventually Jazz when she learns of Phantom and Danny): her ghostly hair begins to be a bit longer every time, her frame just a bit smaller, her shoulders a bit less broad, her hips a tiny bit wider, etc etc. At first they think Danny learned how to mold their body and was trying to widen the gap between the living body and the ghost body but when they bring it up Danny just laughs and says “I wish I knew how to shapeshift” before brushing it off, they ignore it for the time being until they start to notice similar changes to Danny’s living body: her hair has been growing faster than usual, Danny is seemingly an inch or two shorter and overall just smaller, Danny even starts to occasionally complain of waking up with full body soreness even after a couple days of not fighting ghosts and of abdominal cramps, she starts having occasional mood swings as well.

Dannys very body is being effected by the ghost half and is reacting accordingly, her hormone levels are shifting and her ecto is changing her very bone structure to make her more feminine and maybe even eventually going so far as to change her fully as if she had never been her agab at all!

#transdanny #trans danny #dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #trans #transgender #trans!danny

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wesleysniperking · 6 months ago

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Understanding Usopp's Perspective in Water 7

I still don't understand why people can't grasp that Usopp was only 17 years old during the Water 7 arc. People love to be "objective" and claim Usopp was wrong for challenging his captain, but Luffy wasn't entirely blameless either.

Usopp was the first to notice how unprepared everyone was for the New World, but the rest of the crew seemed in denial or overconfident. How could Usopp voice his insecurities when everyone else apparently had their act together? It felt like, "Yeah, whatever Usopp, you're just a scaredy cat," when, in reality, he was becoming more attuned to the fact that one of the strongest people he knew was starting to lose to the bad guys.

Critics say, "Usopp didn't know how to take orders from his captain," but that's not true. If Luffy was starting to lose, then how prepared were they for the New World? Usopp knew his own limitations and was unsure how to help, leading him to feel like he was losing control. He likely thought, "If everyone else has their act together, then who am I?" He channeled all that into Merry.

I believe Usopp's innate ability to sense danger started to manifest here. Luffy was overestimating himself—from the incident with Kuzan to punching Charlos.

Luffy took the crew, his friends, for granted and didn't realize how much he needed them until after Marineford, when Jinbe gave him a reality check. He couldn't empathize with Usopp because he failed to understand the consequences of being unprepared and powerless. Luffy thought his confidence would be enough for everyone, but it just put them all in danger. There was still some "playing pirate" nonsense going on.

Luffy was also 17 and deserves grace, but apparently, Usopp is the outlier who brings the crew down? Yeah, right. The unconscious bias shows. The privilege shows.

Literally just read a fic where the crew can’t stop beating it into Usopp’s f*cking head how much he “sucked” back in Water 7. Smh. What message does that give? Oh, keep telling someone they suck to the point they go and find the highest building to jump off of? Tough love works…to an extent. But without empathy? Yeah. What a crock of sh*t.

Just needed to get that off my chest.

Related links:

Link 1

Link 2

Link 3

Link 4

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standfucker · 2 years ago

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White Out

Characters: Marco, Ace, Thatch, Izo

Reader: AFAB, GN pronouns (they/them)

Word Count: 10,427 (I'm sorry.)

CW: Explicit N.SFW content, PWP, gangbang, double penetration, knifeplay (light), oral, anal, deepthroating, breast fucking, degradation, praise, roleplay, CNC, bondage, BDSM, short reader (mentioned briefly, not size kink though)

Summary: I have nothing to say for myself.

Actual Summary: You and your four favorite people try your hands at a little roleplay.

AO3 Link

The safety discussion had been summarized one last time, preferences and limits clearly defined so there was no confusion.

You’re still not sure how it happened–sure, you could name the sequence of events that led up to it, the friends-with-benefits relationships with each of them, the drunken admittance of your deepest fantasies that one night–but it still didn’t seem real.

But there you were, perched on the edge of Marco’s bed before all of them:

Marco. Ace. Thatch. Izo.

As the first mate, Marco had the luxury of his own quarters, and offered them as a setting for your scene. The room seemed smaller with the five of you in it, but that was fine. Should things go as planned, you wouldn’t be needing extra space.

Thatch cradled your face in one giant hand, tilting your head up so you looked him in the eye. “Ready?”

You swallowed and nodded.

“Are you sure? You look nervous.”

“I am,” you admitted, “but that’s okay. It… It makes it…” Your cheeks grew even warmer than they already were.

“Better?” Izo finished for you, smirking despite himself.

“Yeah…” It was so much easier to be honest under the influence of alcohol, but for this, it was important that you were all sober. “I’m ready.”

For a moment, no one spoke, unsure of how to start. You weren’t normally that shy, but the thought that this was really happening, and in front of all of them, had you momentarily frozen. Nervousness twisted up your insides and intertwined with the heat between your legs, making it all the more responsive. Nothing had happened yet, but just the anticipation alone made you wet.

Izo found his voice first, clearing his throat before speaking. “Well, well, well,” he said, pitched low with an eagerness that made your heart pound, “what do we have here?”

As if breaking a seal, Izo’s commencement spurred on the others.

“A Marine,” Ace’s voice dripped with disdain, and he looked down at you, shocking you at how easily he fell into the roll, “sailing all alone…”

“...and ripe for the taking,” Thatch concluded, eyes half-lidded.

A shiver ran through your body, and you wondered if they had talked about this behind your back, because they were working off each other maddeningly well already. You sucked in a shaky breath. “You might as well kill me–I’ll never talk.”

Marco chuckled darkly. “Hear that, guys? They said they’ll never talk, yoi…” He approached the bed, suddenly grabbing your shirt by the collar and yanking you onto your feet. He adjusted his grip, taking a bigger fistful of the fabric, then pulled up, until he was lifting you entirely off of the ground, bringing you face-to-face. “But I bet I can make you sing.”

You knew he was strong, but this–this was showing off, impressing the power difference between you. And it was working, your stomach flipping in place at the thought of how easy it was for him. For any of them. You weren’t weak by any means, but the Division Commanders outclassed you.

“N-Never,” you bit back, despite the obvious effect his manhandling was having on you, “I could never be affected by the likes of your kind, pirate scum!”

“Hm,” Marco leaned his head even closer, lips barely hovering over your own. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you–and then he bit your lower lip, just short of breaking the skin, making your whole body tense and drawing out an involuntary whimper.

“We’ll see.” He dropped you, and you stumbled back, into someone’s chest. You hadn’t even noticed Ace moving behind you with Marco commanding your attention.

Ace ran his hands down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps despite the heat of his skin, until he reached your wrists, where he tightened his grip and forced them behind your back. He nosed into your neck, inhaling your scent before dragging his hot tongue up the side and growling, “Izo, pass me the rope.”

You were already trembling from it all, Ace’s iron-like grip, his tongue, the heat radiating off his body that always seemed to intensify whenever you slept together. The scene must have excited him, because he was raising the temperature of the entire room, not to mention the hardness that pressed into your rear.

Izo plucked the length of rope from Marco’s desk and stepped over to you, handing it to Ace with one hand while the other gripped your chin harshly, forcing you to look up at him. “Poor little thing, shaking like a leaf. Are you that scared?”

Of all of them, it was Izo, surprisingly enough, who had the strongest dominant streak. He was entirely in his element as he smirked down at you, not giving you a chance to reply before he continued, “you should be. You got caught by the wrong pirates, my dear.”

Your trembling had nothing to do with fear, of course. The nerves were there, but the knowledge that you could stop at any time was a reassurance that only made everything hotter, in a way. You gave Izo a defiant look, even as Ace worked on tying your wrists together behind your back. “I’m not scared of you.”

Izo’s smirk widened. “No? Maybe I should tell you what we have planned for you, then… See how you feel after that. Do you want to know?” He leaned in closer. “What it is we’re going to do to you?”

Anticipation made your heart pound like a hammer. You weren’t sure if you were meant to respond until Izo’s grip tightened almost painfully on your chin. “Speak,” he ordered, the command sending a jolt between your legs.

“I d-don’t care,” you spat, “It doesn’t matter what you do–I won’t submit.”

“Is that what you think?” Izo purred, “then I think I’ll go ahead and tell you…”

Ace finished tying your wrists, the rope snug but not too tight. You pulled against it, testing the hold, but as an experienced sailor, there was no chance of the expertly-tied knot coming undone. “How’s that?” Ace whispered into your ear, momentarily breaking character.

“Green,” you responded, then tensed when he licked the shell of your ear, resisting the urge to whine.

Izo leaned down further until he was speaking into your other ear, voice husky and dark with promise. “For the next few hours, you belong to us. And we’ll do whatever we want with you. You’re going to be stuffed full–in every hole–until you can’t think about anything but our cocks. We’re going to fuck you so well that for the rest of your life, you’ll have to live with the knowledge that the best orgasms you ever had were at the hands of pirate scum.”

You could physically feel yourself getting wetter with every sentence, breath catching in your throat. He was too good at this, evident in how his words were affecting the others, as well. Thatch was palming at his crotch, breathing less evenly. Marco bit his lip, the fingers of one hand curling and uncurling repeatedly. You had the sudden mental image of a bird of prey’s talons closing around a mouse. The thought was not helping.

Ace’s lips attached to the side of your neck then, and you clamped your mouth shut to muffle the whine that rose in turn, but it was still audible. The men reacted like dogs to a whistle, eyes locked onto you at the sound. Ace didn’t let up, sucking and nibbling until your legs were shaking, one hand holding the rope around your wrists and the other clasped onto your hip.

Among your partners, you normally only let Marco leave bruises, as he could heal them after a session, leaving nothing for your crewmates to potentially tease you about. For this scene, it was allowed for the same reason. As a result, this was the first time Ace got to indulge, and you suspected he had a kink. He was clearly into it, grinding his hard-on into you shamelessly as he started on another mark a little higher up your neck.

Izo let go as he stood back to his full height, appraising your reaction, desire simmering in his dark eyes. “Look at you. We’ve barely started, and you can hardly stand.”

It was getting harder to think with Ace chewing up your neck while Izo talked down to you, but you managed to play the role despite it. “S-Shut up. The others will–mm!–will come looking for me.”

“Oh? When will that be, exactly? You aren’t scheduled to arrive at your destination for days, pretty thing. And we’ve taken your transponder snail.”

Ace broke away from your neck to growl into your ear, “No one is coming to save you.” And then his tongue was on your neck again, licking his way to a new spot to bruise.

You almost lost composure at that, briefly considering just stopping the scene and begging them to take you on the spot. Sheer force of will held you together at that point. You wanted to see it through to the end, though, certain that if you just held on, the reward would be well worth it.

Izo reached into his kimono, and your pulse quickened, knowing what was coming next. The sharp edge of the dagger he withdrew glinted in the lamplight.

“I’d try and hold still, pet. Get those legs of yours under control, hm?” Izo said to you, but he glanced at Ace as he spoke. Ace got the message, pausing his ministrations and pulling you tight against him to keep you still. He did not remove his mouth from your neck.

Izo touched the tip of the dagger to the base of your throat with the barest pressure, feather-light and not enough to break the skin, before sliding it up, slowly, all the way to your chin. You were thankful for Ace’s hold on you then, because you were sure your knees would give out. It was almost embarrassing how badly it made your cunt throb.

Izo smirked like he knew.

Lowering the blade to slide flat under your shirt, he pulled it toward him, turning it so the sharp edge of the dagger was against the fabric. In a single, downward motion, he cut through the front. Then he cut through your sleeves, until the shirt was only being held in place by Ace’s body. Izo grabbed the shirt and pulled it from between you two, so you could feel Ace’s bare skin against yours.

“Oh,” you breathed, never quite able to get used to Ace’s change in temperature when he was aroused. His skin against yours was like sinking into a hot bath, contrasting against the cooler air on your chest. In any other situation, it would have been relaxing. But your focus instantly went back to Izo as he cut through both bra straps next, then the center band. He ripped that off, too, exposing your chest. He did not miss the way your nipples had hardened, and you had to bite back a pitiful noise when he touched the tip of the dagger to a nipple.

You shut your eyes, briefly overwhelmed, and the touch moved away. A moment later, you felt him pulling the hem of your pants away from your skin so he could safely slice through those as well. Soon you were only in your underwear, which Izo left alone. Satisfied, he walked over to the desk and set down the dagger, then stepped into place beside Marco and Thatch. “Who wants to go first?”

Ace resumed his steady devouring of your neck, shifting the hand on your hip forward, along the hem of your underwear, and then under it, trailing a blazing path down your mons until his fingers were separating your outer lips. He paused at feeling just how wet you were, and you felt his lips curl into a smirk against your neck.

“Looks like Ace is,” Thatch muttered, not actually sounding all that bothered–he liked the show. “Look at his grin… I bet they’re soaked.”

You had to bite your lip as Ace’s hot fingers delved between your folds, stroking idly and making your knees weak. The very wet, very lewd squelching that arose only confirmed Thatch’s words. The sound had a visible effect on the men, the air in the room seeming to thicken with combined desire.

Ace let go of the rope with his other hand, moving it to your head, and he grabbed a fistful of hair close to the base before harshly forcing you to bend over. “Their mouth is free, Thatch.”

The pulling on your scalp and the roughness with which Ace handled you only fueled your fire. You thought you couldn’t possibly burn any hotter, but then Thatch approached you, unbuckling his belt, and your body was searing. He freed his cock, stroking it with one hand while the other replaced Ace’s in your hair, and leaned his hips forward until the tip pressed against your mouth.

“Go on, then, make yourself useful,” Thatch said, the tremor in his voice betraying his excitement, “you know what will happen if you bite, so why don’t you just take it like a good little prisoner?”

You met Thatch’s eye, but your glare quickly faltered due to Ace suddenly penetrating you with his fingers. Your breath hitched, momentarily unable to respond with the pressure and heat now massaging so expertly inside you.

“You’re okay. Come on,” Thatch murmured, pupils blown wide at the sight of you buckling under the pleasure, and then his voice dropped low, “open.”

The deep pitch cut through the haze and into your head, the command reaching that part of you that you couldn’t let out anywhere else, the part of you that longed to listen and obey, that wanted nothing more than to cede control. You opened your mouth, tongue sticking out, unable to stop the whine that followed.

“There you go…” Thatch praised, pushing himself into your mouth with a hiss, “fuuuck…”

He was already leaking, pre-cum salty on your tongue. Your noises were quickly muffled as he inched in further, then pulled out a little, only to push back in even deeper, lubricating himself bit by bit with your saliva.

It was difficult with Ace casually fingering you, but as long as he didn’t touch your clit, you were pretty sure you could focus on both things. You relaxed your jaw, letting Thatch reach the back of your throat, and then you sucked.

“Fuck!” Thatch cursed, fingers tightening in your hair in an attempt not to ram himself down your throat, the pain making you moan around his cock. Thatch eased his grip on your hair only slightly, keeping you in place as he started to thrust shallowly into your mouth. “That’s it… Fuck, just like that…”

Ace rested his free hand on your hip, and you felt him press a kiss to your back before licking the skin there. “Heh… They got wetter,” he announced to the others, “you love this, don’t you? Such a cockslut… I bet you let all the other Marines use you like this.”

You normally couldn’t reach orgasm without touching your clit, but with Ace gleefully degrading you, you thought for a moment you just might. It was all you could do to stay on your feet.

“Nng! I’m gonna… Go deeper,” Thatch panted, “one of you, watch for their signal for me… Ace, let up, will ya?”

With your wrists bound and your mouth full, the safety signal was you stamping your foot. You idly wondered if you’d need it–deepthroating wasn’t new, but it was always a challenge, and Thatch–all of them, really–were worked up from the scene, less prone to holding back.

Ace slowed his strokes so you could better focus on the task. Thatch pushed deeper and deeper with each thrust until you were fighting the urge to gag. You willed yourself to relax, focusing on your breathing, and Thatch eased himself into the tight canal of your throat.

“Oh, fuck!” He moaned, shutting his eyes as his grip in your hair tightened again. He opened one eye to take in your expression, making sure you were still okay, before starting up gentle thrusts. “So good. So fucking good, there you go… Taking me so well…”

Spit and pre-cum combined and dribbled down your chin, and your eyes watered reflexively until tears ran down your cheeks. Off to either side, you could see Marco and Izo, standing closer than before, both of their gazes fixed onto you. Marco was desperately rubbing himself over his pants while Izo had already disrobed, both kimono and undergarments forgotten on the floor as he stroked his cock.

Thatch had his eyes shut again at how good it felt, but a muffled moan from you had him look down at you. At the sight of your tears, something must have awakened in him, because his grunts tipped into something guttural, and he went a little faster, cursing weakly. “Fuck, oh, fuck! Not yet-!”

His hips began to stutter in their pace, and then Thatch let go of your hair and pulled out with a gasp, stepping back, his cock visibly throbbing. You coughed and caught your breath, switching back to breathing through your mouth, head hanging down.

“That was close… I almost came,” Thatch panted, crouching down next to you and cupping your cheek. He tilted your head up so you were looking him in the eye, thumb stroking your temple lovingly. “I want to save it… I want to cum in your cunt. Wanna fill you up, deep inside… Wanna see it dripping out of you…”

You could only whimper in response, thighs pressing around Ace’s hand. Now that you didn’t have to focus on deepthroating, he started pumping his fingers faster, and when he curled them just right, you stood up straight as if electrocuted, pressing back into him with a shaky whine.

Thatch walked over to a chair and slumped into it, taking a break so he could come down. He let out a sigh and groaned, “What a mouth…”

You leaned your head back on Ace’s shoulder, closing your eyes and generally trying to keep it together. Ace turned his head to kiss your temple, then whispered into your ear, “Eyes forward, captive. You’re far from done.”

You opened your eyes to see Marco approaching you, Izo following close behind him. Marco rested his hands on your hips, squeezing them before running them up your sides and to your front, where he groped your breasts. You bit your lip as he massaged and fondled them, but gasped when his thumbs started rubbing your nipples, the sensation like a current that ran from your chest straight to your cunt.

“Ah! N-Not there! No!” You cried, the touch igniting your whole self, a full-body sensation that spread out from between your legs.

Marco stopped immediately, going to lower his hands, but Izo caught his wrists, keeping them in place. “It’s fine, Marco. They didn’t use the safeword. You can keep going.”

Marco hesitated, then started rubbing again, and you all but thrashed, body jerking from the onslaught of stimulation but unable to escape it due to Ace’s firm hold on you.

“Oh, god! No, no, it’s–ah! It’s too much!” You pleaded, tearing up again. The attention to your nipples was making you drip, even with Ace’s hand in the way, a few clear drops on the floor beneath you slowly becoming a small puddle. Izo glanced down at it, then at you.

“My, my. So sensitive,” Izo mused, “is that really as much as you can handle? I thought surely a Marine would be tougher than that.”

“I… I…!” You started to say, then cursed, jerking again as Marco bent down to drag his tongue across a nipple. “Fuck!”

Marco licked your nipple over and over, alternating between pressing his tongue flat against it in slow passes, then using the tip to flick and circle the nub, and all you could do was take it. Your legs grew weak once more, and threatened to give out entirely when Marco closed his lips around your nipple and sucked.

Your back arched, and then your legs finally failed as Izo crouched down to suck on your other nipple. Ace held you up easily with one hand, completely unbothered by your weight as he continued to finger you all the while.

The combined sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alight as they messily sucked on your breasts, your whole cunt throbbing and clenching. Through the haze of pleasure, you wondered vaguely if you’d join that small percentage of people who could come from nipple stimulation alone–but it never happened. Instead, you only stayed torturously worked up, almost to the point of edging.

‘I bet you wanna cum, huh, babe?” Ace whispered into your ear. “We won’t leave you like this forever, don’t worry… We’re pirates, not monsters. Here…”

Ace’s thumb found your clit, rubbing in practiced circles, and you jerked again with another strangled cry. With all the prior buildup of the scene, much less the current multiple points of stimulation, it didn’t take long for your body to start its climb and rapidly ascend. Every bit of pleasure seemed to accumulate between your legs and build and build, with only one end in sight.

“I’m–I’m gonna cum, I’m–!” Your words turned into a broken sob as release crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pure euphoria that radiated out from your clit and spread to every inch of your body. Ace sank his teeth into your shoulder, growling at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his fingers, slowing but not stopping their movement so as to draw out your orgasm. He didn’t stop until you were no longer grinding your cunt against his hand, at which he finally pulled out.

“Marco, Izo. Stop,” Ace directed, although the other two were well aware that you had finished and had already detached themselves from your chest. “Sixty seconds, remember?”

One of the rules you had in place was that after an orgasm, you needed a minimum of one minute to come down before you could be touched again, with one exception–if one of them was close, they could go past the limit, as you could always use your safeword if needed.

You slumped back against Ace, trembling and panting, your clit still pulsing with aftershocks.

“Easy does it,” Ace murmured, thumb rubbing circles on your hip, “we’re not finished, so just take a breather for now.” He brought the hand he fingered you with to his mouth, sucking your fluids from his fingers with a debauched groan, and you felt his body temperature raise another degree.

Izo stepped closer, until his cock pressed against your stomach, and he rutted against you with a pleased sigh, warm pre-cum smearing on your skin. He took your face in both hands, angling you to look at him. “Look at you. You love being our plaything, don’t you?”

Your head was swimming, but you knew he wanted an answer. The only thing adhering you to the scene at that point was the others keeping it up. “I don’t…”

“Hm, still a little fight left in you,” Izo remarked, thumbs brushing away tears, “no problem.”

“We’ll fuck it out of you,” Marco promised. “Thirty seconds left, yoi… Then you’re ours.”

Your eyes widened, because how had thirty seconds already passed? Sighing, you let your head rest in Izo’s hands, soaking in the affection that was admittedly out-of-place for the scene, though contrasted with his animalistic rutting. Gradually, your breath returned, and even though your legs found strength once more, Ace didn’t stop holding you.

“Five,” Marco counted down, sending a shiver of anticipation up your spine, “four… three… two… one.”

Marco grabbed your underwear and ripped it off your body as easily as if it were made of paper, tossing it aside. He ran a finger through your folds, just to feel for himself how wet you were, sucking his lip between his teeth once he found out.

Ace’s free hand squeezed your ass, then trailed between the cheeks down to your puckered hole. A swell of panic rose within you suddenly, and you called out, “Yellow!”

As if a switch was flipped, everyone stopped instantly, pulling away from your body aside from Ace holding you. His other hand came to your shoulder, turning you so he could see your face, his own written with concern. “Is everything okay? What’s wrong? Do you need to stop?”

“I’m okay,” you assured, “and I definitely don’t want to stop.”

“Change your mind about anal?”

You shook your head. “No, that’s not it. I–I want that, too.” You raised your voice enough for Thatch to hear from his spot in the chair, a few feet away. “I just wanted to remind everyone, before we go any further: Anything that goes in my ass–tongue, fingers or dick–doesn’t go in the front or in my mouth afterward. Okay?” That was a lesson you had to learn the hard way, a triple infection that led to a humiliating visit to Marco. It was he who taught you how to play it safe.

The other four all agreed, verbally confirming that they understood.

Ace thought for a moment. “Unless we use a condom first, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay,” Ace said, “hey, Thatch. Pass me a condom.”

Another shiver ran down your spine at that. Thatch stood up, and Ace added, “And a glove, and the lube, please.”

The requested items were wordlessly grabbed off the desk and brought to Ace, Thatch pausing to trace your lips with his index finger before he returned to his seat.

Ace turned you to face Marco and Izo again, so you could not see, but only hear the noises of him setting up: the snap of the latex glove on his hand, the squirt of the lube bottle, the wet smear of it between his fingers. You started to tremble again, and the men in front of you noticed, Marco petting your head while Izo’s smirk returned.

Ace’s fingers, now slick with lube, found your asshole once more. You expected the lube to be cold, but Ace had quickly warmed it to a comfortable temperature. He traced the ring of muscle teasingly, enjoying the way you tried to stifle your noise as a result, before penetrating you slowly with one finger.

You tensed, not meaning to make it difficult, but it felt so good you couldn’t help it. “Oh…”

“Relax,” Ace said softly, “just let me in… There, just like that, good…”

You bucked your hips back into his hand slightly, whimpering through a closed mouth and straining helplessly against the ropes binding your wrists. Ace probed deeper, until he reached the knuckle, then pulled back out, squeezing more lube onto his finger before pressing back in.

“You really like that, huh?” Marco commented, glancing below you, “dripping again, all over my floor.”

“Such a slut,” Izo’s grin was wicked, “getting off on being used by the enemy. You needed this so badly, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” you moaned, both in response to Izo and to the fact that Ace inserted a second finger.

“Tell me how much you love it, and maybe I’ll touch that needy little clit of yours, yoi,” Marco said, voice low in a way that was unlike him. It seemed the scene was teaching everyone something new about themselves.

Like you needed any more prompting. “I love it,” you moaned shamelessly, “please. I love it so much, please touch me, sir…”

“Sir, huh?” Marco’s lip curled in satisfaction before he reached between your legs, finding your clit on the first try. He rubbed slowly and gently, adding to the sensation of Ace fingering your ass rather than distracting from it. It was almost unfair how well they worked together. “That’s Commander to you, Marine. That goes for all four of us.”

Ace kept applying lube intermittently, more than he really needed for just his fingers, and you realized his intent when the characteristic sound of a foil wrapper tearing hit your ears. You could hear his breathing get heavier with excitement as he unrolled the condom onto himself, then added a generous coating of lube.

“Gimme a hand,” Ace spoke over your shoulder, at the other two. Even as the shortest one among them, he was still tall enough compared to you that he needed to pick you up to bring his hips level with yours.

Marco abandoned your clit in order to grab your hips, lifting you effortlessly. Ace placed one hand below Marco’s on your hip, the other lining himself up. The blunt head of his cock pressed against and then slowly penetrated your asshole. Ace threw his head back with a curse as Marco helped ease you down, lower and lower until Ace bottomed out.

Ace’s other hand came to your other side, and when his bare fingers dug into your hips, you realized he had discarded the glove at some point. “I–” Ace had to pause, briefly overwhelmed. “...I got ‘em, Marco, th-thanks.”

“Sure.” Marco released his hold, letting Ace support you, and you were certain he’d leave bruises with the strength of his grip. Not that you minded–the pain enhanced the pleasure the same way sweet and savory food complemented each other. A little bit of one (or even a lot, depending on your mood) went a long way in increasing the other.

Ace pulled back his hips just slightly before snapping them forward, like he didn’t want to be outside of you for a second, gasping as he did. “Tight! Oh, god, that’s tight. Fuck…”

The action drew a small moan out of you, a second following shortly after as Ace started up an easy pace. With his strength, he was able to hold you steady as he went, your body only moving forward a little when he bucked into you. You wondered why he didn’t just bounce you on him, until you realized he was attempting to make it easier for the other two to touch you.

Marco must have realized it, as well, because he went back to rubbing your clit a second later, making you twitch and keen under the dual sensations. Ace was splitting you open so nicely, the lube ensuring he slid in with little resistance. The slick, wet noises of his cock pistoning in and out seemed to amplify the feeling of being filled, your sensitive passage contracting around him without rhythm. His grunts and groans in your ear only made it better, voice raspy with the enticing sound of his unraveling.

“Beautiful,” Izo crooned, jerking himself off to the sight. His free hand grabbed your jaw, and then he was kissing you, firm and demanding. You moaned into his mouth and he licked at your tongue, tasting you for a breathless moment before biting your lip. He moved the hand on your jaw to the base of your throat, making room for him to kiss along your jaw and work his way down to the side of your neck Ace had left untouched, eager to sow his own field bruises.

The third point of stimulation was enough to start working your body up again, a slow but sure swelling that smoldered with the promise of ecstasy.

“Izo!” You cried as his teeth dug into the delicate flesh of your neck, “Ace… M-Marco!”

Izo bit down a little harder, as if in admonishment, at the same time that Marco growled, “Commander,” in a corrective tone that made your clit throb against his fingers.

“Commander!” You gasped, voice quivering, “please!”

You did not know what you were asking for. Whatever it was, they did not give it to you. The three of them continued their relentless onslaught on your senses for what felt like hours but could have only been minutes. Behind them, Thatch must have come down enough, because he was now stroking himself with one hand while he bit into the other, absolutely enraptured with the show.

Izo marked his way both down and up your neck, leaving behind a trail of dark marks and red paint until he was back at your lips. His lipstick had smeared, and combined with his messy hair, it was the perfect image of lust indulged, the sight alone pulling a desperate noise from you.

“What, you want more? It’s still not enough for you?” Izo spoke against your lips, the taunt not at all diminished by the heaviness of his breathing.

With Ace fucking your ass and Marco teasing your clit, you couldn’t form the words, only a pitiful, needy moan.

Izo laughed softly. “I know, sweet thing, I know.” He grabbed your thigh, spreading your legs wider for him to fit between them, and lined up his cock with the dribbling entrance to your cunt.

Ace only slowed down, unwilling or unable to stop, as Izo’s cock parted your folds. He slid inside easily, thick girth posing no problem with how ridiculously wet you were, and the both of you cried out at the sensation, a harmony of high and low pitched sounds. Izo stayed still for a moment, savoring the snug, warm fit, before the feeling of Ace’s cock through your thin internal walls made him grit his teeth and rest his forehead against yours with a groan that Ace echoed behind you.

With Izo and Ace being similar in height, they were lined up perfectly, neither slipping out even as Izo started to thrust. His strokes were deeper than Ace’s, unconcerned about leaving your heat when he was only going to sheath himself again, and again, knowing he could indulge in you at his leisure. Ace had far less impulse control, fucking you with little thought but to his own pleasure at that point, leaving Izo to pace himself so they could take you with some semblance of coordination.

“C–Comman…” You couldn’t even finish saying their title, the words devolving into helpless little moans and whimpers as they ravaged you from both ends.

Marco stepped closer to keep his fingers in contact with your clit, his free hand coming up to flick one of your nipples. It sent a jolt of electricity through the cloud of pleasure that was currently your brain, making you tighten up around the dual cocks in you, Ace and Izo both gasping or moaning in turn. Finding both hands occupied but craving friction at the sight of you getting tag-teamed, Marco was glad for his significant height advantage right then, as he was at the perfect level to press his still-clothed dick against your thigh and rut.

Your body was a brewing storm, made up of hazy clouds of pleasure, bolts of nerves lighting you up brighter and brighter with every thrust and touch inside and around you, more and more intense, building, building, building. The only thought in your head was the goal, the crest over the hill, so close you could cry from how badly you wanted it.

For a wonderful, terrifying moment, you were stuck at the edge, that desperate moment right before the peak, riding the knife’s edge of bliss without truly attaining it. So good, but not enough, a taste of liberation that only made you long for nirvana. You couldn’t hear anything but the rushing blood in your ears, pulsing in time with your heart and your cunt. And then Izo angled just right against your g-spot and Marco rubbed your clit just so and Ace just kept pounding your ass like he’d never get to fuck again in his life, and you tipped over and were gone. It was easily the strongest orgasm you’d ever experienced, momentarily separated from the outside world and all stimuli but the intense throbbing of every part of your cunt–everything, centering from your clit and rippling through your entire pelvic floor. Only the parts of the men inside you or on you existed, everything else fading behind the raw euphoria of the present. You didn’t make a sound–couldn’t, realizing you had been holding your breath throughout the whole thing.

Suddenly aware of the need for air, you gasped, deep breaths coming out shaky and uneven. Vaguely, you could hear the three of them saying something, but you didn’t process the words. You realized they had stilled, holding you in place. Then Ace and Izo pulled out, and the sudden stimulation of the still-tender nerves made you yelp in discomfort.

“Sorry,” Ace apologized, kissing the back of your head. “That was a strong one, huh? The way you gripped me back there…” Ace set you down on your feet carefully, helping you stay upright with one arm.

“Breathe slowly, Y/n, you’re okay,” Izo instructed, taking one of your hands in his and rubbing the back soothingly. “Do you need longer than a minute?”

“Yes,” you said gratefully between pants, “yeah, just… Wait…”

Marco used his sleeve to dab away the sweat on your brow, then ran a hand over your head affectionately. “We can stop here, if you want.”

If you hadn’t just had your world rocked, you might have embarrassed yourself with how quickly you rejected the notion, but you were still reeling, so what would have been a passionate denial came out as a calmer, breathy “No, I’m okay.”

“Color?” Marco asked, just for a formal confirmation.

“Green.” You were kind of amazed that this was still continuing, but when you saw Ace peel off his condom, you realized that none of them had cum yet. You pushed away the urge to feel bad–they had the control in this scene, everything was going how they wished.

“I have an idea,” Thatch spoke up from his seat. “What about this…”

You all listened to his proposal, the words bringing a fresh wave of heat through you despite the fact you were still coming down. The four of them discussed positions while you caught your breath, until they came to a decision they were all happy with.

“How much time do you need?” Thatch asked you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on yourself and listening to your body. There was a muted tingling between your legs, but it was hard to tell if it was oversensitivity or a new thrum of desire. Regardless, you wanted more, not satisfied unless you got to see them finish as well.

“Three more minutes,” you decided. “Starting now.”

“Three minutes, huh?” Marco pet your head again, but this time, he paused mid-way to dig his fingers into your hair, gripping hard and pulling your head back so he could kiss you roughly. His tongue and teeth violated your mouth, probing and nipping until you were moaning weakly into his. He broke away, looking down at you almost coldly, a hungry, mean look in his eyes as he pushed down on the top of your head.

“Get on your knees.”

The look alone sent a pleasant chill through you, much less his tone. It was a bit of a shock–Marco had been the most reluctant about the scene when you all first talked about it, concerned for your well-being. Seeing the wet spot on the tent of his pants, you wondered suddenly if this was why, if he knew he might like it a little too much. It was certainly not a problem.

The rule had been that no one could touch you–specifically between your legs, or your chest–while you were cooling down. You realized you never said anything about touching them during that time. Locking eyes with Marco, you sank to your knees obediently, licking your lips in anticipation, the action making Marco’s fist tighten in your hair for a moment.

“Good, that’s a good little captive. You belong to us now, don’t you? You’re all ours,” Marco growled, “I don’t think we’ll be giving you back to your fellow Marines. I think we’ll keep you, forever, as our personal fuck toy.”

You didn’t think you could really get any wetter, but Marco swiftly proved you wrong, your cunt clenching with need as fluid continued to leak down your thighs. The floor was hard on your knees, but you kind of liked that, the light pain contrasting with the haze of sheer want.

Marco let go of your hair in order to strip from his jacket and unzip his pants, pulling out his straining cock. “Open wide, love. Prove that this is all you’re good for.”

You’d barely opened your mouth before Marco’s hand was back in your hair and he was pushing his cock in, forcing your mouth wider as your cry of surprise was muffled. He had never been this rough with you before, and it was a side of him you hoped you’d get to see again sometime. Having not had any attention during the whole scene up until now, he was needy and eager, practically shoving his way to the back of your throat. You were almost dizzy from the action–Marco, your gentle Marco, fucking your mouth like you were nothing but a whore.

Maybe you were–the way you sucked him was more than a little depraved, unable to hide how much you liked it, messy and ravenous. He hadn’t even gone deep yet and you were already breathing through your nose in anticipation, tongue curling along his length as you went. Marco had a slight tremble in his legs, biting back moans that slipped out as terse grunts. Soon spit was trickling down the corners of your mouth again, and you didn’t bother hiding your moan, knowing it’d be muffled around his dick anyway.

“Fuck, Y/n,” Marco cursed, your only warning before he pulled your head down and pushed himself deeper, penetrating your throat, “fucking take it.”

Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes as he entered your throat, grip in your hair deliciously painful as he pulled until your nose was pressed against the curls of his pubes. He thrusted shallowly, moans pitching higher at the sensation, and you pulled against the ropes binding your wrists, wanting to touch him, to make him feel even better.

If only someone was touching you. The thought surprised you–you normally preferred the opposite, needing to focus while you were deepthroating so you wouldn’t gag. But being used so thoroughly was making you contract around nothing, craving to be filled. Only the thought of what was coming next, and Marco plugging up your throat, kept you from begging for more.

“Five,” Izo counted, “Four…”

“Shut up–I don’t care. Fuck,” Marco groaned, not intending on stopping after three measly minutes. You wondered if he would finish right there, abandon what you had planned next. It certainly seemed that way, his control slipping as he thrusted harder and harder, tears spilling down your cheeks. You weren’t sure how much longer you were there, only that eventually the strength behind his hips was too much, causing you to finally gag. You were about to tap your foot in signal when Marco pulled out, a rope of spit connecting his dick to your lips.

Marco took a step back, a shudder running through him while you gasped and coughed for a moment. You swallowed the spit and pre-cum that had accumulated in your mouth, then tilted your head back to look up at him with nothing short of adoration. Marco was panting, but smiled down at you, wiping the drool from your mouth. “Well done, sweetheart. You ready for the next part?”

“Doesn’t matter if they’re ready,” Izo said, still in character, trying to sound cold but unable to hide his excitement. It had the desired effect anyway, your thighs squeezing together. “They’re going to take us all and they’re going to love it.”

“Please,” your beg was barely a whisper, but they all heard it regardless.

Marco helped you to your feet, and when Thatch approached you, your heart leaped to see him holding the dagger from earlier. Unfortunately, he only meant to cut your bindings, and Ace laughed at your resulting expression.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” he grinned, taking your face in his hands and kissing you. “If you want to play with knives, I’ll indulge you another time, I promise.” He bit your lower lip, drawing a small, needy sound from you, before his voice lowered. “If we include Marco, I could even cut you a little… What do you think?”

“Ace,” you whimpered, your tone telling him exactly how you felt about such a proposition.

Thatch finished cutting through the ropes, and you rubbed at your newly-freed wrists, the skin there a little raw but not too tender. Ace had tied it perfectly.

Anyone who hadn’t disrobed all the way did so, clothes discarded onto the floor or on the chairs, before you all moved to the bed. Marco hopped on first, laying on his back. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and facing his legs. Ace passed you the lube, and you took a minute to apply it to Marco, fingers gliding up and down his twitching cock. He couldn’t help bucking into your touch, trying and failing to suppress moans.

You tossed the lube aside, wiping the excess onto your thighs, before lifting up your hips. Marco helped guide you down, one hand on your hip, one around the base of his cock, positioning it against your ass. You sank down onto him with a gratified sigh, Marco gasping as his thick length breached your hole and filled you slowly, the delicate passage lighting up with pleasure.

Now seated in his lap, Marco took a few breaths before placing his hands on your shoulders and easing you back until you were laying on him.

“Still–ah!” He stuttered as you clenched around him just to get a reaction, “–still green?”

“Mhm.”

In retaliation, Marco gently pinched your nipple, but it only made you tighten up again, the both of you moaning in turn.

Thatch mounted the bed next, at the foot of it, crawling between yours and Marco’s legs. There was just enough space for him to sit on folded legs, and he rubbed your thigh fondly before lining himself up with your cunt. He sucked in a breath as he parted you, biting his lip. Halfway in, he paused, pulling back out before pushing in again, this time not stopping until he was fully sheathed inside.

The noise you made was almost embarrassing, a debauched keening that could only come from being filled up so entirely. You were so full, so perfectly stuffed, the feeling of being stretched to your limit nothing short of bliss. You laid your head back on Marco’s shoulder, shivering with satisfied lust as you clenched around them.

Thatch threw his head back, too, groaning. “Shit, I can feel Marco twitching.”

You thought you could, too, though sometimes it was hard to tell if the little pulses were coming from yourself or from them.

“Here we go, love. Just relax and take it,” Marco murmured into your ear.

Thatch started moving first, slow pumps of his hips to ease you into things. But you did not want slow or easy, especially not at this point in the night. He felt so, so good inside, and yet you needed even more.

“Harder, Thatch!” You pleaded.

“No. It’ll be too much–” Thatch started to reply.

“Please!”

Thatch clicked his tongue. “Sheesh, needy little thing. Fine.”

He grabbed your hips and picked up his pace, upping both the speed and force of his thrusts until his hips were smacking loudly against yours. Below you, Marco started to move, too, working his cock in and out in perfect rhythm with Thatch. You gasped at the change, toes curling at the flood of sensation.

You reached to touch your clit, but Marco suddenly grabbed your wrists, pinning them to your sides. The strength in his grip only made you wetter, a jolt of desire making you clench up, your moans rising in volume.

You didn’t even notice Izo taking his place on the bed, perched right above Marco’s shoulder, until he bent over you, filling your vision, in order to kiss you once more.

“Still want to do this?” He asked, checking in one last time.

“Yesss,” you moaned, tearing up again at just how good it felt.

“Thatch will watch for your signal, okay?” Izo tilted your head back, fingers parting your lips, and you sucked on them without prompting, making him smirk. “Alright, here it comes.”

You opened your mouth, and Izo inserted his cock, far more slowly than the others had earlier. He worked his way in gently, gradually making it further and further in, keeping an eye on your body for a sign of a negative reaction. It would have been impossible to tell, though–with Marco and Thatch fucking you so well, you were twitching and arching periodically. The only thing Izo could really count on at that point was your safe signal, but he trusted you to use it if you needed to. With that in mind, he pushed further, deeper, until he was well inside your throat.

It was ambitious–minding your breathing was a challenge when you were being double penetrated so perfectly, but the two prior attempts had relaxed your gag reflex more than usual, and there was little discomfort as Izo started to thrust. Having to concentrate on your breathing only diminished the pleasure by the tiniest fraction, the nerves between your legs ever ablaze.

With your head back, you couldn’t see anything but Izo’s lower half, but you could feel how he rested a hand on your throat, feeling his dick through the flesh. You felt another hand running down your side–it had to be Ace–and then he mounted the bed, too, throwing a leg over to straddle your waist.

This was it. You could barely contain your excitement, but in your current state, there was no real way to tell. All your noise was currently muffled, anyway.

Ace felt up your chest, groping and squeezing, before he positioned his cock in between your breasts and pressed them together. Already dripping pre-cum, he needed no lube as he started to thrust, his own noises of delight joining that of the other three. His thumbs brushed your nipples as he tit-fucked you, making you buck into Thatch and Marco.

“Look at that! All of us at the same time… You’re incredible, Y/n,” Ace praised between moans. “Even your tits feel amazing… So fucking good. So fucking good.”

You couldn’t respond, of course, but you weren’t sure you could have formed words even if your mouth was free. Spread out between the four of them, every hole filled out and more, you felt as if every nerve in your body was wired to them, to the feel of their skin against and inside yours. Entirely at their whims, nothing more than a means to their satisfaction, they used you completely and thoroughly, and it was perfect.

No one bothered hiding their noises anymore, all sense of shame long since gone, a chorus of moans and grunts and cries reverberating through the room alongside lewd, wet squelches and slaps. They were so deep inside you, your insides molded to the shape of them, and soon the heat started to build somewhere between your legs, even without your clit being touched, a song of lust that started to crescendo.

You had never cum while deepthroating before, the pleasure mostly mental on your end. But then Thatch started rubbing your clit, and you knew there was no chance you wouldn’t, the crescendo spiking rapidly toward its end. Above you, you could hear Izo’s moans stutter and pitch high in a familiar way, and when he came, he was so far down your throat you didn’t even feel it.

A few seconds later, Izo pulled out of your mouth, and you switched your breathing with a gasp. He pressed a grateful kiss to your forehead, then slid to sit on the floor, spent.

“Good, good, now we can hear you,” Ace panted, “though I kind of liked hearing you try and moan with a cock in your throat, too.” His thumbs continued flicking and rubbing your nipples mercilessly, the icing on the proverbial cake that spurred on your desperate moans.

The heat only kept building, shooting higher and higher. They were so big inside, so big and so deep, taking you like they needed it just as badly as you did.

“I’m gonna cum,” Ace whined, and when you opened your mouth in response, that did him in. He shouted as he came, spurting thick, hot ropes mostly over your neck, though some landed in your mouth. It was bitter and you didn’t even slightly care, too fucked-out to do anything but swallow in between moans.

Ace finishing in your mouth was enough to hurdle you to the edge, suddenly close, a wave at its crest ready to break at any moment. You pulled weakly against Marco’s hold on your wrists, but his grip only tightened. Clenching rhythmically around them, overcome with the need to finish, your thoughts focused once more on nothing but the end that was in sight. You barely even felt Ace dismount, nor Marco’s nibbling on the shell of your ear. Ace reached to your breasts again, pinching your nipples with just the right amount of pressure, and your peak all but slammed into you.

For an instant, you saw white. It was, somehow, even stronger than the last one. Once again, nothing existed but you and your shaking orgasm, the sizzling of every pleasure nerve in your body, the pulse of your entire being unmade into nothing but the component elements of sensation. Your cry broke halfway out your mouth, devolving into a choked sob as the other two just kept fucking you through the contractions of your walls, drawing out your climax for what felt like an eternity.

“Coming,” Thatch’s voice was strained, the fluttering around his cock bringing him to the edge. He gripped your hips with both hands, strong enough to bruise, and cursed as his hips stuttered in their pace. “Oh, Y/n!”

You couldn’t feel it, but you knew Thatch had finished once he stilled, catching his breath before pulling out. He stayed where he was, eyes fixed onto your cunt, waiting, as promised earlier, for his cum to dribble out.

You went limp above Marco, still rutting into your ass, the pitch of his moans signaling that he was near his end, as well. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your hips, bouncing you onto his cock like you were a toy. You were too fresh from your orgasm for it to feel all that good, but it didn’t hurt, either, so you just relaxed and let him get there at his pace.

Marco finished with a cry of your name, fingers digging into your hips and head thrown back against the bed. He held you there for another minute before letting go with a heavy and very satisfied sigh. You lifted yourself off of him and collapsed beside him, and for a few minutes, there was only the sound of everyone catching their breath.

“Fuck,” you said, staring at the ceiling in awe.

Ace giggled from his spot in one of the chairs. “You said it.”

Marco rolled onto his side to face you, cupping your face with both hands and kissing you passionately before he pulled away, looking into your eyes. “You’re okay, yoi? Nothing hurts?”

“My throat’s a bit sore,” you admitted. “I’m sure it’ll be worse later. I probably won’t do consecutive deepthroats like that again. Maybe cap it at two times a session.”

“Whatever you need,” Marco said. “That was… You were…”

“You were amazing,” Thatch finished for him. “Shit, I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”

“Me neither,” you laughed. “I think you guys might have ruined me forever. What if I can’t cum from regular sex after this?”

Izo pushed himself off the ground, standing up and stretching. “Just come to any of us, we’ll take care of you.”

“Can you walk?” Marco asked. “Do you need any help getting cleaned up?”

“I dunno. I’ll find out soon enough. I need a minute first, though,” you said, curling up against Marco and resting your forehead on his chest.

“Of course.”

Izo grabbed the stack of washcloths off the desk, taking them to the connected bathroom (another one of Marco’s private luxuries) to dampen them before passing them out. Everyone but Marco cleaned up and got dressed, the latter staying put to cuddle you while you came down.

After a few minutes, you sat up, swinging your legs over the bed and attempting to stand. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt a little like a newborn deer, but at least you could stand. Ace joined you in the bathroom anyway, making sure you stayed upright while you cleaned up. A second outfit was waiting for you on the desk, and Ace helped you change into it.

Clean, dry, and thoroughly spent, you crawled back into Marco’s bed and collapsed. Marco, now dressed, got in beside you, spooning your back and hugging you to him.

The reality of what you just did settled in, and you suddenly laughed at yourself. “God, I’m a slut…”

“If you are, then so are we for participating,” Marco said.

You gave him a look over your shoulder. “You can say that, but you weren’t the ones with three dicks in you.”

“Four, in a way,” Ace said.

“Ace,” Izo snapped. “Not helping.”

“It’s fine, Y/n. It really doesn’t matter,” Marco assured.

“He’s right,” Thatch said. “It’s normal for pirates to sleep around, anyway. Don’t worry about it so much.”

“Alright…” You conceded.

Izo, Thatch, and Ace came to sit on the edges of the bed, the latter deciding that wasn’t enough and crawling in to lay next to your other side, though barely fitting. Caring little that his ass was practically hanging off the bed, Ace stroked your cheek affectionately before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Hey, Y/n… Thanks.”

“I should be the one saying thanks,” you mumbled. “It was my fantasy.”

“But we all really, really enjoyed it,” Ace insisted, beaming.

You smiled and buried your face into the pillow in an embarrassment that was frankly ridiculous to be feeling after all of that. You had already been exposed inside and out, in every sense of the word. Something that could only be pulled off because of your deep trust in your partners–trust that they’d listen, trust that they would never hurt you, trust that they had your best interests in mind.

An overwhelming surge of love rose in your chest at the realization of just how far you trusted them, how well they took care of you, and how much it had paid off. You were surprised to feel tears welling up, immediately biting your lip in an attempt to stop them. But then you blinked and they rolled down your cheeks, making Ace frown. “Y/n?”

“I’m good, I’m–” you covered your mouth to suppress the sob that threatened to spill out. The tears were running down your cheeks now, and you had no idea why, only that you couldn’t seem to keep it in.

The others were all attuned to you now, wearing equal looks of concern.

“Tell me what’s wrong, babe,” Ace murmured, pulling your hand away from your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed, trembling, “I don’t know why I’m crying. It was perfect.”

“It was intense,” Marco said softly, hugging you a little tighter. “This is a normal reaction. Don’t feel bad about it.”

“O-Okay…”

Izo rubbed your arm, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “It’s okay, Y/n. You’ll feel better if you let it out.”

“There’s no judgment here,” Thatch added, petting your head. “You’re safe.”

Reassured, you stopped trying to hold it in and let yourself just cry. Marco and Ace held you all the while, Thatch and Izo’s hands never leaving you either. Eventually the cry ran its course, and you were left with the occasional sniffle.

Thatch brought you tissues while Izo brought you a glass of water. You sat up to partake in both, blowing your nose before draining the water in seconds.

“More?” Izo asked, and you nodded.

Marco rubbed your back while Izo refilled the glass, and when he returned, you downed it just as quickly.

The four of them whispered reassurances and affirmations: You’re not useless. You’re not a toy. You’re one of us. We respect you. We love you so much.

You leaned against Marco, feeling significantly better even though you had never really felt bad at all. “I love you guys, too. More than anything.”

They each took a turn kissing and embracing you, making you smile.

“So, uh,” you started, smile turning sheepish, “Next time our schedules line up… You know, when we’re all off at the same time–”

“Then we can get off at the same time?” Ace offered, and you giggled.

“Absolutely,” Thatch said.

“I’m up for a repeat,” Izo agreed. “How could I not be after that?”

“We’ll discuss it when the time comes,” Marco said, “make sure it goes as smoothly as it did this time.”

“I’m sure it will,” you sighed, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, “there’s no one else I trust more.”

“Alright!” Thatch clapped his hands together. “I’m going to go cook something nice just for the five of us. I dunno about you guys, but I’m famished.”

Your eyelids were already growing heavy. “That sounds good, but I think I’m gonna pass out here in a sec.”

“Go ahead, Y/n,” Marco said, “We’ll wake you when it’s ready.”

You nodded, letting yourself flop back into the bed. “Thanks…”

Marco and Ace laid on either side of you, arms finding their way around your waist and shoulders, and you relaxed into their embrace. You could feel Izo petting your head, and you smiled to yourself.

There really was no one else you trusted quite like those four:

Marco. Ace. Thatch. Izo.

I worked really hard on this! Reblogs and comments mean everything to me! Thank you so much for reading!

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