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#can you live knowing they did so on your command?
queensunshinee · 2 days
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Time Of Our Lives || Part 7
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Warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, oral sex, praise.
Part 7:
The Uber ride was quiet. They sat in the back, and Liana’s leg was twitching nervously while Art sat at the other end, trying to calm himself from jumping on her in a stranger’s car. They entered his room quietly, and the second he locked the door, Liana found herself trapped between the blonde guy in front of her and the, now, closed door.
His mouth didn’t wait for a special invitation, eager to reach every exposed spot. Their lips met in another sloppy kiss, full of saliva as they explored each other’s taste. His hands began to explore her body, slowly running over her curves, rediscovering her as he walked backward, guided by her to the bed. When he sat on the edge, expecting her to sit on top of him, she collapsed in front of him on all fours, and he couldn’t hide his surprise. "You don’t have to." His voice was half-hoarse as she unbuttoned his jeans. She just gave a wicked smile and looked up at him for a moment. Her eyes sparkled, and her light makeup was slightly smudged. Her lips were swollen and redder than usual from Art's assault on them. The thought of those lips being so close to his dick made something dark come out of him, almost animalistic. "You really don’t have to," he managed to say again, only making her pull down his boxers faster and see that he was already semi-hard. She still hadn’t touched him; he still hadn’t grabbed her ass or put one of her nipples in his mouth, and he was already semi-hard. He didn’t know what was happening to his body, but he closed his eyes for a second to take a deep breath. Liana took advantage of that to give a small kiss to the tip of him, as if appreciating the fact that he was so close to her. He had to look at her. Her eyes didn’t leave Art's face for a moment. She looked so submissive, on all fours in front of him. "Is this the first time—" he felt the need to ask, remembering their earlier conversation about her not agreeing to sleep with James or Jake or whatever that fucker’s name was. "No. I did everything with him except sex…" she mumbled, seeing his nod. "Then go ahead. Be good." Art’s voice was amused but authoritative, as if there was no room for argument, though there was. Be good. Be fucking good. She smiled and took as much of him into her mouth as she could in one go. "Fuck, Li." He didn’t expect the euphoria that came with her lips around him. Clasping his dick as a bit of her saliva dripped down her chin. He gave her a few seconds without moving, "Do you even know how beautiful you are like this?" he said, trying to etch this image into his memory. She moaned at that sentence directly on his dick, making him moan as well. "Come on, Li, you can do better than that." He said after he saw her start with slight forward-backward movements, which immediately made her pick up the pace. So eager to please him that he could cum just from the thought of all the things Liana Levy would let him do with her. "Deeper, Li, do you need help, or can you do it alone?" he asked in a broken voice, making her move a bit more on his dick and gag on it. He felt her throat tighten for a second before she coughed and pulled away from him to breathe, expelling an unreasonable amount of saliva on herself. Her eyes watered, and her makeup was already completely smudged from the effort as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. "Turn your head, Li," Art decided to take advantage of the moment she was recovering, and she complied, seeing herself in the mirror behind her. "You’re a mess," he whispered, and they both chuckled. "So beautiful like this." He ran a hand through her hair, pulling it away from her face. "Get back to it." He wanted to command but even with his softest voice, she just turned back and took most of him into her mouth, she gently placed his hand on her head while he groaned. "Yeah? You want me to help you choke on my dick, Li?" his voice almost disappeared again. He couldn't believe his luck. He wasn’t sure if he could hold on much longer like this. "All this so I’ll know you’re really good?" he continued, trying to look at her and seeing her nod, another moan escaped them both as she gagged again. This time his stabilizing hand didn’t let her pull away from him. "You can take it for me, I know you can." She smiled and, if it were possible, took him even deeper.
He felt his pre-cum already filling her mouth and released his grip, giving her the chance to pull away to breathe, but she clumsily placed his hand back where it was. "Fuck Li, if I had known you wanted me in your mouth this much, I would have given you my dick years ago," he muttered, half to her and half to himself at this point. He couldn’t keep his coherence. "Liana baby, if you don’t move now, I’m going to cum down your throat," he said, the thought of it making him close his eyes and moan, while she, on her part, stayed in place. "Oh fuck." He said, feeling his eyes roll back for a second as she swallowed everything that came out of him, and only when she finished did she allow herself to pull back and take in fresh air into her lungs. "Come here," Art managed to mumble. She stood in front of him, still breathing heavily as he skillfully removed her sweater, leaving her in tights with shorts over them and a bra. He kissed her deeply after giving her a few more seconds to gather air into her lungs. The taste he left in her mingled with her own, and Art was ready to swear he had never tasted anything better. "Are you okay?" he paused and looked into her eyes, standing for a moment and examining her as she nodded with a smile. "Use your words, Li," he said, starting to remove her shorts. "Yes, everything's fine, Art," her voice was hoarse from all the effort, and he couldn't help but smile. "You sound so good, baby," it rolled off his tongue, calling her 'baby' As if their whole lives had been just like this, as if they never argued about anything. As if there had always been so much depth and layers to their relationship. She stood in front of him in panties and a bra, and he couldn't stop looking at her. "Lie down on the bed, Li," he said, not taking his eyes off her for a moment as she did exactly what he asked. He arranged the pillow under her and ran a hand over her face, trying to wipe away some of the fluids and putting two fingers in her mouth, not deeply. "Your mouth took me so well," he whispered, hearing her moan beneath him as his lips began to travel over her body. He skillfully removed her bra, and his mouth found its way to her nipple quickly, while his hand played with the other. Her sounds were probably the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. "Do you want to wake up my parents?" he looked at her amused, with her breast still in his mouth. His tongue attacked her from all sides, and his teeth left a mark as a souvenir. "Fuck, Art." Her hand found its way into his hair, not pulling but playing with one of his curls, encouraging him to continue as he trailed kisses down her stomach and blew small breaths that sent shivers through her. "Don't be a tease…" she found the words despite the emotional whirlwind she was experiencing. "Yeah? You don't like that?" Another deep breath, right near her groin.
"Arthur!" her voice was deep and reprimanding, causing him to chuckle. "Okay, okay," he mumbled and removed her panties. "Fuck, Li. You're completely wet." He managed to say, feeling his dick starting to harden again. He began to work gently on her clit in circular motions, holding her thigh with one hand so she wouldn't instinctively close her legs. "Art," his name in that desperate tone from her lips sounded like his favorite song, and his fingers started to work on her entrance. One finger slid in easily and began to move back and forth as his mouth increased its pace.
"Li, baby, I need you to be quiet." He gave a small kiss and looked at her from below, seeing pure bliss on her face and returning to what he was doing before, only this time his own desperation grew. He added another finger and felt her starting to tighten around him. "Are you close?" he asked, and she nodded and sighed quietly. "So good to me, Liana," his voice was muffled, full of her juices as he continued to eat her as if she were his last meal. With those words, she sighed again, trying to stifle the moan that escaped her as she came. Art hated the fact that he missed the look on her face when it happened. Making a mental note that next time he made her come- he would watch her. She trembled slightly as he withdrew his hand from her and lay down beside her. "Do you want to?" she opened tired eyes and looked at him, checking if he wanted to continue. And of course he wanted to. It was probably the thing he wanted most right now. "Liana, we’re not going to have sex for the first time while we’re half-drunk after a party at Josh’s house and my parents are sleeping downstairs." He rolled his eyes and ran a hand over her face, pushing dark hair behind her ear. "Do you want me to help you with that?" she asked, glancing at his renewed erection. "I’ll manage, get in the shower..." he sighed, but his voice was amused. He didn’t want to push his luck more than he already had. Liana went into the shower attached to his room while he masturbated with the fresh memories of this night. He chuckled when she came out, clean and dressed in his oversized Stanford shirt. He quickly washed himself and lay down beside her. Usually, he didn’t do this. He always found an excuse to end the night after sex. It wasn’t always pleasant, but it was always necessary. The thought of sending Liana home didn’t cross his mind for a moment. "Are you okay?" he asked once more, examining her and seeing she was half asleep. "Yes, Art. Are you okay?" she replied, and he recognized the teasing tone mixed with amusement. "Okay," he said, chuckling, pulling her close to him as much as he could. Tomorrow they would deal with the consequences of this day. Right now, as his lips brushed the top of her head and he heard her breathing becoming heavier and heavier, a feeling of harmony took over him. He was holding Liana Levy, and he didn’t know where he would find the strength to let her go.
How are we feeling?! Pls talk to me, I'm dying here. To all my Patrick girls, he'll come back, I promise. Again, if you want to join the taglist just ask
taglist:
@swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109
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haleswallows · 1 day
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I will not ask where you came from (Deleted Scene)
A deleted scene for "I will not ask where you came from", my fic for Dead on May-n week. Inspired by @roanawayspoons in the HH server, where they linked this and said it's perfect for puppy!Jason.
CW: NSFW, anal sex, fingering, light pet play
Jason is excited to reveal his new helmet. He's spent a lot of time designing it, ready for a refreshing new look. It's just... a coincidence. The dog-like features. Siren lives rent free in his mind, ok? It wasn't on purpose. Jason is not responsible for his subconscious.
Siren raises an eyebrow, bright red lips pressed to disguise their smirk when Jason first shows them. Lounged on his couch, their dressing gown falls open slightly to reveal toned legs. "Oh, puppy," they demure. "You spoil me. You're so pretty with your new helmet." He can't help but preen under their praise. When they command him to his knees, he goes without single hesitation and kneels at their side. The finger under his chin has his eyes fluttering closed, and Jason obligingly tilts his head back.
“Is this way your way of making sure everyone knows?” The finger traces a line along the seam where flesh meets metal, the slightest scratch of a long nail. “You like being my puppy this much?”
Jason knows the rules. He's a good boy. “Yes.” The new voice modulator grinds the word into a rough growl. Siren does smirk then, grazing a finger over the molded fangs.
“This is very nice, perfect for my puppy.” They playfully tap the subtle snout. “Well, come on then, strip. Show me the helmet without all these distractions.”
Siren likes to tease but not be teased. He does make a show of stripping, muscles flexing and stretching. But it always goes quickly. They reel him in by the buckle while he shucks off the vest, then gloves. “Let me help. You have so many layers.”
While his arms are tangled in this shirt, Siren undoes the belt, then button, then zipper. Without pushing the pants down, Siren slides their hand between compression shorts and the outer armored layer.
“No cup? Oh puppy, did you prepare for me?” They press a finger against the rapidly hardening underside of his cock, balls drawing up with his gasp. “Am I going to find another treat?”
Jason struggles to find words. Even after months and months of this game, Siren's rules, Jason's still so responsive, left gasping. 
“Puppy?” Siren gently prompts, beginning to withdraw.
It takes a few gulps of air to get there. Jason chokes out “One more surprise.”
His efforts earn a reward. Siren wraps a hand around his dick through the soft fabric. They squeeze slightly on an upstroke, teasing the head. “Good boy. You're so good for me, and just me. Wanna show me?”
The praise makes Jason flush, reddening from chest and up his neck. His face feels warm in the helmet. “Yes,” he repeats.
Sadly it means Siren releases his cock, allowing him to toe out of the steel toed boots, unbuckle hostlers, and shove the pants down. Jason’s embarrassed for a second before the compression shorts join the mess of clothes on the floor. All it takes is a half lidded look from Siren, their eyes hungrily tracing from chest to toe, flicking back up to the helmet.
They swirl a finger lazily. Jason obeys, pausing just a moment when his back is turned. “Oh,” Siren breathes out. “Come here.”
He kneels again. Siren cups the cheek of the helmet in their hand and encourages him to prop his arms onto the couch cushion. Instinctually, Jason leans into it, missing the feel of their palm a little bit.
Siren finally sits up from their relaxed lounge, legs bracketing him. Jason's practically in their lap and fully hard now. Their other hand skates up his arm, drawing patterns into his bicep with a nail. He flexes his arms without thinking, Siren giggling. 
“That looks new. Were you excited to buy it? Couldn't wait to show me?” Siren pulls him to sit up straighter, pinches a nipple. With a gasp, Jason arches his back, sits as pretty as he can.
“Yes.” Jason was excited. Is excited, the press of the plug a little bigger than his usual preferred toy. It had taken a little effort to get it in, Jason had nearly come while fingering himself open, thoughts of Siren forefront.
“So cute,” they coo, pressing a kiss to the temple of the helmet. “It matches your helmet. You look so good in red, puppy. Now the question is do you want the toy, or me?” 
Jason shorts out for a moment. He trembles as Siren distracts him with wandering hands. As he opens his mouth, Siren pressed a kiss to his neck, scrapes teeth over the skin. Jason gasps, words flying from his head. Groans when Siren bites harder.
“Words, pretty boy.” A grin pressed into his neck, a hand reaching down his back, a barely there brush of a finger at the base of his tailbone.
He pants. Half crazy from the plug and the constant stimulation. Jason needs to be touched. “You.” His voice is strangled.
“Well, get up here. I'm not getting on the floor.”
Jason slowly crawls up, Siren directing him to lean over the armrest. He feels exposed, hemlet pressed into the fabric, arms curled under his chest. It puts him ass up, cock heavy and hanging between his thighs.
“Just look at you. Beautiful.” Siren admires, pressing a kiss to the small of his back. Jason squirms, pleased with himself and relishing the praise. Then nearly jumps out his skin when Siren suddenly grabs his balls. 
He can barely concentrate on what Siren says, focused entirely on the hand slowly kneading the sack. “I'm going to fuck you, your hands stay right there. No touching yourself, I want you to come on just my dick, Jason. Do you understand? Will you be good?”
“Yes.” He can be good. He can be so good. Something breaks in his brain a little bit, overwhelmed with the promise of being fucked, the promise of more than teasing touches. “Yes, I understand. Please, I'll be good, I'll be good. Please, Siren.”
Siren drapes over his back. A kiss to the nape of his neck gentle and soothing. “Please, what?” A finger presses on the plug, pushing the flare against the stretched rim. He pants.
“Fuck me, fuck me, please. Siren, I want your cock. Want to come for you, want to be a good boy.” The begging erupts from him, Jason wrapped up in the press of Siren's silken dressing gown all along his back, the way their legs frame his.
“Relax for me,” Siren commands, biting the juncture between neck and shoulder. Jason melts into the sharpness of the feeling, breaking through his general fog of need and arousal.
The plug slides out. For a moment, Jason is stretched too wide, too much. Then suddenly he's empty, bereft, clenching on nothing. “Oh, honey.”
A single finger slips easily in, hole still wet with the smear of lube from fingering himself. Jason's hands twitch. He clenches them, and shoves them under his chin. 
A second finger joins the first. Siren hums, slowly scissoring them. They're always so gentle with Jason, so careful as they open him up. “We need a little more lube, sweetheart.”
“Ah,” Jason twitches. It's a few heartbeats before his brain produces a coherent thought. “Pants pocket.” 
They laugh. “Of course. My clever puppy, always thinking ahead.” But it means they remove their fingers to lean for the pants, rooting around in the pockets. When Jason shivers at the loss, Siren runs a hand up his flank, presses a thumb to his hole. “Patience. Don't wanna hurt you, baby boy. You're being so good, I'm going to take care of you. You know what you get when you're good?”
Jason nods into the armrest, eyes squeezed shut. Siren removes their hand. They lightly swat his ass. “Words, puppy.”
“I get rewards.” He twists his head, getting Siren into his peripheral. Their smile is sweet, eyes crinkling with it. 
The reward is Siren pushing two lube slicked fingers into his ass. Jason groans long and shamelessly. After a few moments, Siren easily adds a third finger.
They mouth lines of kisses across the broad span of his shoulders. Fingers pump slowly in and out of his hole, a maddening pace only barely enough to keep him hard. The pads of Siren's fingers just graze his prostate every few strokes. 
Jason is melting. He's burning and panting and fighting every instinct to grip his cock. If he doesn't get more, he's going to scream. Or cry. A chant starts pouring out of him. “Siren, please. I'm ready, I want you, more, please. I… it feels so good, please, please can I…?”
Siren surges forward, pressing their weight all along his back. Their dick slots behind his balls. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you? You asked so nicely, it’d be mean of me to make you wait more.”
They gently remove their fingers. There's the sound of the lube opening again and Jason takes the opportunity to catch his breath. He uncurls his arms, bracing hands on the armrest. 
Then groans again at the stretch of Siren's dick pushing into him. It's slow but delicious. in all the right ways. Jason sets his hips against the push, allowing Siren to rest against him. Siren breathes out a long satisfied sigh against the top of his spine when they finally fully seat inside him. A heartbeat of stillness, Siren caresses his sides in an upward sweep. They pause to grope his pecs before slotting their hands together.
“You have no clue how good you feel, puppy.” Siren presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. With a long slow withdrawal, Jason squeezes their hands. He knows what’s next. He’s been a good boy. They pull out until the ridge of their cock head pulls at the rim. The thrust is hard, driving Jason’s breath out.
Siren’s pace is cruel. Each thrust hard, but just shy of fast enough. Jason writhes under it. He hangs his head, lifts it again, clenches his hands and thighs in turn, arching his back. All the while, his cock and balls ache. Jason needs more, certain a single touch would put him over the edge but Siren keeps a hold of his hands. The sound of their fucking is obscene, and if Jason had even an of sanity to spare, he’d be a ashamed of the continual whine and gasps and mewls he’s making.
It’s obvious when Siren starts to get close. They release Jason’s hands to pull his hips closer, encouraging him to sit up. Impossibly it drives their cock deeper. Siren noses against his neck. “Beautiful and you don’t even realize, god you feel so good. You don’t know what you do to me, puppy. It’s like you were made for me. Can you come without me touching you today?” Every word brings heat to Jason’s chest, he shudders.
And they wrap a hand around the base of his neck, the barest hint of pressure against his throat. Jason comes, losing his voice as pleasure rips through him. Siren keeps up the brutal pace, fucking him through his orgasm.
“Good boy. You’re so good for me, you’re perfect. Stay just like that, puppy.” Strong arms keep him upright, the thrust not stuttering. Jason gets lost in it – the haze of endorphins and praise. Beyond all reason, Jason gets hard again. “Look at you. Filthy, you like it that much? Oh puppy, are you going to come again for me? Can you?”
Siren presses him into the couch, bending him forward until the helmet meets cushion. Jason’s hips tilt and then he’s seeing stars with each thrust. He scrabbles against the fabric, trying to gain purchase to push back. “Right there, huh. You’ve been marvelous. I’m so close, puppy.”
They pant against his shoulder. “Come. Come, Jason.” The command is paired with a hand on his cock, stroking in time with the thrusts. “You can do it, puppy. Beautiful boy.” 
It isn’t Jason’s first dry orgasm. It definitely won’t be his last. Still it shocks Jason, amazed by the way it rocks through him and makes his toes curl. He clenches and finally Siren’s hips stutter. Warmth of a different sort fills him, and Jason swears his dick twitches as if inspired to try for a third.
Time gets a little fizzy for Jason as he focuses on catching his breath, only gasping once Siren pulls out. Sensation slowly returns to his numb limbs. “Careful, honey bee. There you go,” Siren coos gently, guiding Jason to lay on his side. “There’s a wet spot there. We made a mess, huh. You stay put.”
Vaguely, he hears the padding of feet. He concentrates on wiggling his fingers and then toes. “You want this off? Oh babe, you must be boiling in there.” Jason obligingly rolls his head so Siren can access the release on the back. The rush of cool air is a relief, he barely noticed how warm he was. 
Jason hums, cracking an eye open when Siren begins combing fingers through his sweaty hair. “You poor thing, you’re drenched. Wanna get showered?” Absolutely not. The thought of getting up just then is abhorrent, so Jason shakes his head. “No words right now? That’s ok, puppy. Let me get you a little cleaned up and a towel down. Will you have some water for me?”
The washcloth is warm on his skin. When Siren finishes, they press a kiss to his hip bone. He sits up just long enough to drain most of a glass of water. Flopping onto his back, Jason sprawls across the couch.
“Scooch, how am I supposed to cuddle you if there’s no room?” Jason squints at them, but doesn't move. “It's like you think this will stop me.”
They clamber onto him, slotting themselves between his legs to fold arms over his chest. “It's like you think this wasn't my plan,” Jason comments. As Siren settles, he loops his arms around their back.
There's blissful silence for about three seconds. Siren wiggles. “Hey, you ever thought about soaking? Cock warming?”
Jason groans, and not in pleasure. No, he hasn't. But now he is… and, huh. That's new. He considers it, finds he might like that.
“You'd be so cute stuffed with my cock for hours. We could get a mirror for the bedroom, make it so you can see. Your asshole is amazing. You'd be a great cock warmer.” 
When Jason doesn't answer, Siren pauses. “We don't have to. You know my rules, no means –.”
“No, I know. I'm not saying no. Just… give me a few days?” Siren smothers a smile.
“Of course. We can make a whole thing of it. Let me spoil you. Buy us dinner, get some sweet treats, something nice for a bath after. Yeah? Sound good?” They beam at him, and Jason is hopeless.
“You've ruined me.” It makes them laugh, bright and happy. “How are you always like this? You have too much energy.”
They hum, kiss his pec. “Can't help it. Hey, you patrolling tonight?”
Maybe if he could feel his legs. “Nah, I'll do gear and weapons maintenance.”
“Good, you deserve the rest. Want me to grab something to eat when I'm done?” They idly trace a scar on his bicep. “I can even get you some of those disgusting chili dogs.”
“Disgusting, they say. As if you didn't text me last week to beg for four of them.”
They flap hands vaguely in his face, shooing away the teasing remark. “Wait! If I do a seance for Nana Franny again, do you think she’ll make me more birria?”
Jason catches their hands, smoothes a thumb over the bare nails. “Nah, she called yesterday. Her oven is acting up. I’ll go fix it and then we’ll be birria rich.” Siren gasps.
“It’s fate! Hey, wanna pick a couple colors for my nails? You have a good eye. Don’t just pick reds though, puppy.” A phone, lodged somewhere in the couch, starts ringing. Siren surges up for a kiss, digging it from between the armrest and cushion at the same time. “And now I have to start getting ready.”
When Jason bench presses by their hips, Siren makes an appreciative ‘ooh’. Mostly Jason does it to avoid their flailing limbs, and inevitable elbow to the solar plexus he always gets when Siren scrambles off his chest.
“You stay put, puppy. Rest. Drink lots of water.” They pat his chest, then trot down the hall. “Wait, have you ever thought about shibari?”
“Stop it!”
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coridallasmultipass · 29 days
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Just wanna remind everyone that it's NEVER okay to tell someone to die.
You don't know how hard they're fighting to stay alive every day. Or if they don't even want to fight for that any more.
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ladsofsorrow24 · 1 month
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i think some of you are too used to genre conventions, you guys forgot to question the worldbuilding that many authors painstakingly made to question the subject of death and life in a more nuanced manner than just "wow resurrection is so romantic!"
#like yeah i do love romanticizing horror tropes at times#but there's a reason why it is a horror trope and not a common romance plot#necromancy... especially mixing an individual's soul with that of another species is something that can be disturbing#doesn't matter if the one who's doing the resurrecting or the one get resurrected is in love#think about how falin feels knowing that even though marcille and laios loved her they ended up taking a decision#that not only hurts her physically but also emotionally#being stripped of control from your own body... not being able to do anything but follow your master's command...#falin did not asked to be the chimera#but that's what makes her decision to take the red dragon with her before she wakes up so cathartic in some ways#she also acknowledged that the red dragon did not ask for this to happen... just like how she forgives the lil guy she also#forgives her brother and marcille for taking this very... bad decision because she understands they're just as desperate#as she is when she tried to save them before she died#it circles back to the theme of accepting death and how resurrection magic ended up making people too comfortable#with the act of mindless killing of other living creatures#but yeah sadly people only see the surface level stuff but don't actively tried to understand the significance behind the plot#i can't really blame anime-only but people who read the manga tho...#if you only understand it as a romance trope and be like 'oh everyone else is just stupid' maybe you need to reread the manga#at least once a month#to understand ryoko kui's writing better#tmi tag
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lymtw · 7 days
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Toji invites you over with a simple text of:
You busy tonight, doll?
To which you respond:
I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?
Toji laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.
Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?
I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.
You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.
Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.
Drive safe.
Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.
You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.
He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.
Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.
"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.
"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"
"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.
"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.
"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.
"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."
He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.
"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.
You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.
Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".
Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.
"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.
"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.
"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"
You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.
One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.
You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.
You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.
"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.
"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.
"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.
"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"
"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.
"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."
With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.
"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.
Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.
"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.
Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."
Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.
"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"
The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.
Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"
"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"
He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."
You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.
"So?" Toji prompts.
"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.
Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.
"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.
"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.
You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.
"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."
You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.
"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.
"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."
Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.
You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.
This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.
"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.
"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."
He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"
"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.
"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.
"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.
"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.
"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.
"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.
He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.
"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."
"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.
He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.
You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.
You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.
He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.
With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.
"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"
Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.
"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."
Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.
"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.
You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.
"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."
You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.
"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.
"Why not?"
"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."
"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.
"Toji, don't look at me."
"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.
"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.
"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."
"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.
"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.
"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.
"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.
"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."
You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.
"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.
"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.
"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.
"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.
"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."
Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.
Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.
"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.
"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."
Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.
"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."
You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.
"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."
You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."
"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"
You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."
Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.
"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.
Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.
"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.
"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.
"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"
"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.
Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.
"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."
"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."
"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.
Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.
"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.
"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.
"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.
"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.
You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.
There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.
Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.
You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...
"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.
You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.
"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.
Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.
You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.
"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"
You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."
Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."
"So... boring."
"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.
You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."
"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."
You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.
"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.
"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.
"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.
You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.
"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.
"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.
"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. "Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."
"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.
"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."
You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.
He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."
That went out to every version of you.
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chatsukimi · 12 days
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ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ
featuring: protective!heian!sukuna, kindhearted!servant!reader. slight angst/hurt -> comfort. synopsis: you're sick. to your surprise, you're rescued by the man second closest to death himself. masterlist
you should've known he wouldn't come. sukuna has never set foot in the servant's headquarters in his life, let alone to chase after a sick servant. you lower your head, trying to ease the headache that has plagued you through the day.
sukuna loves his bloodshed and his gore. him and death would be good friends, you think to yourself. he wouldn't care if your body was burnt or buried, you think to yourself; wouldn't care if you died at all.
the room the others put you in is empty. ash spreads neatly over the cold floor. the scent of kibble haunts the atmosphere. it's where they put the dogs before sukuna killed them.
ever since you took care of the king of curses while he was sick, the other servants had been careful in keeping a distance from you. not in ill of heart; they're simply terrified at what you must've done to survive in your week long stay with the monster. honestly, you don't blame them.
but now when you're laying on the freezing ground, struggling to breathe, it's hard not to.
'this is where you live?'
your eyes look up. shock. then, with all the strength you can muster, you heave yourself one step away from the man at the doorway, which only serves to piss him off more.
sukuna ryomen, in all his glory, looks down at you. bending down to pick you up like a limp doll to be seated against the wall, he seems to revel in his regained strength. you can't help but feel happy for him, to have survived this fatal disease. not many men can attest to that...
then again, he is no ordinary man.
'i asked you a question.'
you nod, a small thing, barely a movement. he seems to clench his teeth.
he takes off his long white coat, flaunting a layer of dried blood, and drapes it over your shoulders.
yet it doesn't end there. he retrieves from his pocket a bottle of what looks to be a golden syrup.
you know exactly what it is.
he takes your hand and wraps it around the flask, making you hold it, sparing, not one, but two of his eyes, to stare at you, making sure you do as he commands.
'swallow.'
you shake your head. you know he's asking you to do. this is a medication is so rare for your disease that no sorcerer has found in over a hundred years. he's brought this thing of myth right to your very lips. now he's asking you to drink it, and thus take away any chance of it saving anyone else's life.
you scowl, but the tickling sensation in your throat grows stronger, eventually erupting out of your mouth in a harsh cough. you look away from sukuna.
'leave,' you whisper, weakly. 'don't wanna infect you.'
'i survived the illness already. i've developed an immunity.'
you shake your head again. you couldn't threaten your king's health with your own weakness. you just couldn't.
'i can't take this.'
he growls. without any notice, he swallows your lips in a kiss. in the momentary haze, you could hardly resist, fisting the front of his kimono to ground yourself. then, you feel something sweet, honey-ish, hit your tongue.
with his hand locked on your chin, it forces you to swallow.
you pull back, pushing him away. he groans.
he wipes his mouth, still with two eyes staring.
no... no, why did he do that?
'y-you- how? no... why did you waste it on me?' you whisper, desperately searching his face for an answer. 'i'm just a servant. you could've given it to a princess, or a scholar, or priest-'
he grabs you by the arm and forces you into his arms. its heat astounds you, and you find yourself crawling closer. a vague thumping sound seems to press against your ear-
oh. you calm your breathing.
it's his heartbeat.
alive.
'sleep in my room tonight,' he demands.
what did he say? you strain your mind, trying to replay what he said earlier. no... maybe you heard correctly.
'but i'm no concubine,' you respond, instantly.
his arm supports your waist, helping you up effortlessly to your feet. he then directs two of his eyes to the doorway, his cadence low and domineering.
'it doesn't matter.'
he leads you placidly through the servant's quarters. you notice all conversation cease at your entry, bodies dropping into a low bow. a small voice in you whispers that it's where you should be too. you tug at sukuna's arm.
'i'm only a servant, sukuna.'
you know what it looks like, a servant clutching onto a man, more god than human. a man who has slaughtered villages, blood staining the base of his kimono crimson, and turned half a province on its head, just to save you.
'whatever you are in my eyes is what you are to the world,' he states, his expression unchanging. 'if i deem you a queen, that is who you are.'
exiting the servant compound, you know you can't say no- not like you wanted to. the wide expanse of his chest is comforting.
yet however sweet this feeling remains, you can't help but gulp. perhaps this is the closest a human has ever come to courting death.
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hoshigray · 26 days
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hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k
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THUD!
“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”
The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.
“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?” 
If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!
His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more. 
This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.
He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.
You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions. 
However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake. 
You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?
You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”
The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”
“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”
“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”
“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”
You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”
He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.
You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”
Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.
He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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cosmictheo · 2 months
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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha
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(gif credits to @pascow)
— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)
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Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.
Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.
However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.
“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.
“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”
“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”
“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”
“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.
“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.
The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”
He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.
Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.
You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.
Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.
“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.
And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.
Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.
Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 
You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”
Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.
He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.
“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.
He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.
“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.
Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.
“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”
You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.
Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.
You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.
Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.
“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”
You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.
“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.
“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”
Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.
It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.
“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”
When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.
“You fear me?”
He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.
He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.
“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”
“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”
“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”
“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”
After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”
He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.
Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.
Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”
From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.
But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.
He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”
You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.
“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.
He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.
You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.
“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”
Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.
“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.
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katz-chow · 4 months
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part 1 | part 3
ghost distribution system where you’re now sat on the tail gate of his truck, awaiting him to finish changing your tires as you eat the food that he made you. which is terrific by the way.
he has insisted that you sat inside to avoid the bugs and the chilly wind, but you said you didn’t mind. he replied he did and grumbled something you didn’t quite hear and went to make you put on his much bigger jacket.
so you sat there, a bowl of soup in your hands as you watched the sunset, your music blasting from the small speaker in his car, windows rolled down. you watch him change all your tires as the sky got darker.
“do you always do this?” you asked him as you slurp your soup from the bowl. his jacket now taken off from you and merely draped over your shoulders, your body warm from the soup.
he hummed in replied, a silent question for you to repeat yourself. he sets down the last tire on the stack just outside his garage and walked over to you, wiping his hands on a rag. “what do you mean?”
“you know…stalk people’s cars, out cryptic notes on their dash…take them home and i guess now what? kill me?” you ask him, the last part jokingly as you chew on the spoon you’re using.
he gives you a side glance as he huffs a laugh, looking away from you and thus, ignoring your little comment.
“hey! look at me when i talk to you!” you tell him as you hit his shoulder playfully. the sun was starting to set, streaks of orange and yellow and red filled the sky.
he turned to look at you, just like you had commanded him. he’ll always listen, you know. “did you know i actually really like sunsets?”
even with his balaclava on, you can see the crunch of his eyes as he gives you a soft smile. his twinkle, and not just from the sun. you smile at him. “i didn’t. what i also didn’t know was that you can cook.”
“i’m guessing that you’re saying it’s good?”
“very…i don’t think i could live without it.”
ghost nodded slowly and looks back at the sky. “this is the first time someone’s been at my house.”
you raised your eyebrows in shock as you leaned and tilted your head towards him, trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes to search for the truth. “you’re kidding.”
the weight of his pick-up shifted as he leaned back into it, shifting his weight onto the metal. he shakes his head and uses his heel to kick at the pavement underneath. “would you like to come back?”
you giggled and leaned back yourself, your palms keeping you. “dunno…will you cook?”
“always”
“tomorrow?”
“forever? i can change your tires again…”
master list | letter box | main directory
stop by the letter box!
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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Hera stood, waiting for her turn at last. The Queen of the Greek Pantheon traced the lines of neon green, its light reflecting against her true form in a soothing way. She’s no stranger to patience, to waiting. But there were little of those that had the gall to make her wait, and even smaller of that number that she would tolerate such behavior. Regardless, this was the one being she could not afford to offend and so, she waits. Her many forms, her divine self, perceived the room and compared it to her own halls of residence.
Olympus was much more intricate, carved of noble marble and inlaid with countless of priceless metals and gems and divinity. Twelve seats of power atop an engineering wonder, halls adorned with the brightest of the original flames, an hearth that was roaring at Hesta’s skillful hands.
In comparison, this throne room had been changed much since she was last here. Gone were the spikes of terror and screams of the damned. Now… it looked like the most bare throne room she’d ever bore witness to.
And yet, as she waited for the Boy King, Hera could feel the subtle thrum of impossible power. The new king did not flare his will and might like the previous tyrant, and for that, Hera approved. She has had quite enough of living with and under tyrants who cared only for themselves… and their bed achievements whilst failing spectacularly in their marital roles. Zeus was not a good life partner and Hera regretted ever saying yes to him many times in her immortal life. And yet… she loved him still.
The doors opened, and a small figure floated in, flanked by the previous King’s Knight. Perhaps that is what makes this Boy King so dangerous, Hera thought as she dipped into a bow, because he can turn the loyalest to his side.
“Your Majesty,” she greeted, in ghost speak.
“Heya, Hera!” The Boy King greeted her back, before waving the Knight away. Hera marveled, a bit, at the sheer confidence he had to dismiss his knight in her presence. Even the last king kept the knights around to ensure his power was always in display, always unchallengeable. The Boy King could destroy her with a snap of a finger and he knows it. He knows that she knows it.
“What did you need?” The Boy King asked, grin still on place as he floated to her instead of seating himself on his throne. Hera masked the bit of confusion she felt in pursuit of her goal.
“I have come here to ask of you a favor,” she began. “I am aware that… you are fond of this, the earth in which I reside in?”
Hera carefully picked her word. Everybody knows that the new King Phantom had laid claim to not only the Infinite Realms as is normal of his station, but an entire Earth as his haunt. He had the power to do so, she could finally see, now that she was standing before him. It would not do for Hera to get her strings cut because she claimed what is his.
“Sure. Why?” The Boy King tilted his head, narrowing that predator green upon her true form.
“Do you know of the Justice League, my lord?”
“Phantom’s fine,” he waved a hand. “And yeah, sure do! Why?”
Hera tilted her many forms in acknowledgement of the command. She bowed.
“My daughter, of a sort, is Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. She is… in grave danger. We can not exert our influence over a land that does not have our history. I can not interfere and aid her.”
“Oh, you want me to help her?” His tone was exasperated, and Hera spoke even more carefully in fear of offending him.
“Yes, if it pleases you. And it would be most gracious of you should Your Majesty have time to watch over her. I fear the danger will not leave her so quickly.”
There was a brief period of silence before King Phantom sighed. “And if it does not please me to do so?”
Hera looked up and locked gazes with evaluating green. “Then I am afraid I will be breaking a fair bit of cosmic law, King Phantom.”
He laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll check up on Wonder Woman.”
Hera blinked her many eyes, peacock feathers spreading in shock at how easily he allowed her favors. She did not even have to beg.
King Phantom turned to leave before pausing. “Hera, if you need help, just ask. Preferably without beating around the bushes next time. Also, Pandora misses you. You might want to hang around for tea later.”
Hera regarded him with the might of her divinity, which was but hardly a spec of his own kindness. The last one had not had her respect. Fear, yes. But never respect But this one…
“Yes, my King.”
“It’s just Phantom.” He shot back as he left, the Knight returning to his side once more.
Hera transformed into a more mortal form. She had not seen Pandora in a long time, the young woman had made quite an impression on her. Perhaps her old friend could be convinced in helping her punch Zeus and ruin her beloved husband’s day. Hera hummed, the green that used to flicker acidly against her divine form now only soothed. A reflection of its owner.
King Phantom is worthy of her regard.
——
Holy shit, a goddess asked him to check on the Justice League! She was super weird about it and talked in a really old way of speaking, but Danny hadn’t had anything to do for the past few days while entering the zone for his annual check up.
Danny waved away Fright Knight and dived into the portal that would take him directly to the Justice League and Diana!
He floated down from the portal, blinking at group of disheveled and injured superheroes surrounded by a group of demons. Belial?
“King Phantom.” Belial rumbled. Danny waved, not noticing the standstill his presence forced.
“Shite.” The British man cursed, drawing on his magic once more.
“King Phantom?” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, said quizzically.
“Who?” Batman, Batman! That’s actually Batman, rumbled.
“High King of the Infinite Realms. We’re buggered if he decides to help Belial.”
“Wait, like the god of gods, that King Phantom?” Captain Marvel asked. Ancients, why are all of them electrical based? Danny hates electricity.
Danny floated closer to them, grinning in a friendly way before frowning as they tensed up.
“King Phantom. May I ask why you have graced us with your presence, my King?”
“Hey, Wonder Woman! Your mom asked me to babysit you!” He grinned, sharp and mischievous.
“What…?” The Flash asked, zipping to their side. “Her mom? Queen Hippolyta?”
“No, Hera,” Danny said, and watched Wonder Woman straighten at his words.
“The Goddess Hera.”
“Yep!” Danny rocked back on his suddenly formed legs instead of the whisp of a tail he usually kept in the Zone. He was also still floating. Danny sent a wave of ice and froze the rest of the demons in one fell swoop.
“The rest of you can take care of clean up, yes? Diana has to get some snacks, dinner, and then go to bed.” He pushed gently at Diana’s shoulders, nudging her towards the plane. She went willingly, respectful but amused.
——
Bruce, intellectually knowing that’s a king but only seeing a superhero teenager: *fills out mental adoption paperwork*
——
Hera, a goddess, terrified of misspeaking and dying as a result: he’s so strong even though he’s young omg powerful and could end my immortal existence
Danny, an unserious king: golly gee why is she speaking like a Shakespeare novel
——
Hera, thinking Danny’s gonna be dignified: pls watch over my daughter
Danny, who has a clone he sees as a daughter and therefore has no issues babysitting a grown woman: lol snacks, dinner, bedtime
Diana:… usually I’m on the other spectrum of this but it’s from a higher up so… okay?
——
Danny, terrifying gods and ancients: they’re my friends! The power of friendship!
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ervotica · 8 days
Note
Imagine this: youre in college, and after all those boring classes you come to your job at the donaldsons that includes riding him in the couch for as long as your legs allow you.
Tashi just coming home to thats sight and just making herself a afternoon drink unbotherd.
Dbsnhxhsb
omg shut up???🥲
warnings; all smut not much plot, older!art, so much potential for this series aghhh
a/n; art is an ear freak i literally feel it in my balls he loves it when u suck on them ears (he did it to tashi so he likes doing it to others too <3)
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the front door clicks and you wander through, in this teensy little white tennis dress that art told - no, commanded - you to wear when you came to work. the dress that shows the strain of your hard nipples through the fabric, swollen into points like diamonds, the one that slips upward and reveals the perky swells of your ass, the barely covered seam of your pussy when you trounce up to him, chirruping nonsense and smiling at him like he’s the only man in the world.
he murmurs something indiscernible - a pleased noise that reverberates at the back of his throat - and you lean over the back of the couch, sliding your manicured fingers across the expanse of his chest, chin tucked to his neck.
“hi.”
“hi, baby,” he murmurs in that low, rasping way that turns your insides molten.
fast forward no more than ten minutes, and you’re both bare, art’s thick fingers curled round your waist as he uses you as a fleshlight, lifting you up and down like a ragdoll and watching, entranced, as your cunt flares and parts for his thick cock; you sob and babble, slumped forward against his chest, nails digging into porcelain skin, teeth scraping along art’s cheekbone.
“i know, baby. i know,” he grunts, and you’ve never heard a sound like it. your cunt clenches, a soft silk wrap around his cock, and he’s turning his head to suck at the corner of your mouth, all spit and drool and tongue, so much of it that it drips from your chin, globs of it pooling between your tits.
the front door clicks and you’re both too lost in each other to care as tashi comes through the living room and enters the kitchen; art hooks one of his huge hands under the crease of your knee, lifting your leg until it’s draped over his forearm, bracing his feet against the leather of the couch as he jackrabbits up into you. you make a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream, and then tashi’s figure is crossing by you once more, drink in hand, lithe fingers nudging at your jaw to examine your expression. she bends at the waist, pinches your pert little nipple and rolls the bud between her fingertips, and smirks - fucking smirks - as your pussy clamps down on him like a vice; art lets out a stuttered breath, pulls you down onto him, and cums on the spot.
neither of you quit writhing against each other; he has at least another load in him, cock already chubbing back up encased in your spasming walls, no doubt an angry red and drooling precum. tashi settles herself on the armchair opposite you, already disinterestedly flicking through tv channels.
“want my mouth on you,” you whisper, face pressed just below his jaw, breathing hot air onto his neck.
“in a minute, baby,” he supplicates, grunting as he sheathes himself further into your tight warmth, balls heavy and swollen and slapping against your ass with every filthy rock of his hips.
tashi crosses one leg over the other, the picture of boredom, and says, “bite his ear. he loves that shit.”
you do just that, teeth rolling over his lobe as you suck the sensitive skin into your mouth.
he almost cums again, hands sliding up and over your back to still your movements so he doesn’t blow his load right there.
oh, tashi’s going to have fun with you. mould you into a perfect little toy for her husband, take some of his intense, fervent pining off of her, let you be the center of his world so she can focus on improving his game.
she might even keep you if you’re lucky.
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moongreenlight · 4 months
Text
Childhood best friend!Gaz
Who you had the biggest crush on growing up.
Who always bitched about not being able to take girls from school on dates because they all thought the two of you were an item.
Who gave you all of his jerseys to wear to his sporting events and made you swear to come to every single one. Insisted you were his good luck charm- even if he lost. “Can’t expect me to play well when I’ve got such a good looking cheerleader to focus on.”
Who took you to formal and took your virginity in the same night. You still have the corsage he gave you tucked away somewhere in a sentimental shoebox in the corner of your closet.
Who is always your date to weddings. So frequently so that people have started addressing the envelopes to the both of you.
Who calls you at least once a week to catch up and chat, even after moving away from home and joining the service.
Who sometimes whines his way into a video call with you. Both of you in darkened rooms, trying to mumble your way through a rushed rendition of phone sex when he’s got fifteen minutes to himself on a mission. Moaning about how he can’t be fucked to sift through a porn website. “C’mon, darl. Call it a favor. Nobody can see. Don’t even have to talk. Please, darl.”
Who still comes back home when he’s got enough time off the base.
Who insists you come stay at your parents when he’s at his.
Who still sneaks over in the middle of the night to watch movies like he did in high school even though you’re both far too grown. Still sneaks in through the small window in the basement despite fully being allowed in through the front.
Who practically moves his shit into your flat every time he’s got a week or two off of work.
“Jus’ a few weeks, darl. Won’t even know I’m here.”
You’ve stopped protesting at this point, but he still likes to make a scene about it when you make a sarcastic snark about his commandeering the entire living room.
“Couch is a bit cramped, though. Could let me sleep in the bed. We can play house like we used to, yeah? Mums and dads are s’posed to sleep together. Mums and dads are s’posed to do loads of things together.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
Note
Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Boothill, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn crush giving him a love letter before leaving quickly?
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Sunday:
Is calm upon receiving the note and still just as calm after reading it.
He knew this day was coming, you weren’t necessarily subtle about it either but he didn’t want to bring it up to you, knowing that if he did you’d loose all the confidence you’ve mustered up in order to give him the note.
He could read you like an open book and yet your sweet, genuine words touched his heart regardless. You held his heart in your hand and you weren’t even aware, he’ll be sure to rectify that soon enough.
While he wishes you could’ve told him in person, however he’ll gladly suffice for a note instead, seeing as it was the closest he’ll get in regard to an official confession.
With his place in your heart ensured, Sunday could finally use this as an opportunity to spoil you to your hearts content. Anything and everything you could ever possibly want or wish for was going to be yours if he had anything to do with it.
Your wish was his command and he’ll gladly rid himself of any competitors for your heart, all the while shielding your eyes from his underhanded tactics in doing so.
Welt:
You make this old man feel as though he were young and lively when you gave him the note and running off before he could say anything.
He felt as though he was in a romcom that he saw once…not that he was complaining.
Your note was so sweet and thoughtful that the more he continued to read, the more he began to find even more reasons to love you, for who you were was the most precious and perfect person in his life.
He didn’t want to confess first incase that he misread your past interactions for something else, but the note you’ve given him proved that his initial thoughts were correct, and that in reality he was just insecure and felt silly of the idea that someone his age was still experiencing things such as a crush.
But it was so much more than that and Welt knew it.
The only question left was, when was it going to be his time to confess?
Dan heng:
Thank god he took the note back to his room while he did because had he read it beforehand, otherwise his fellow trailblazers would’ve seen his face go the reddest it’s ever been in history.
He reads and re-reads your note to make sure that he wasn’t tricking himself but no, it was a real physical note from you confessing your crush on him.
Dan Heng felt as though he needed to sit down and think this through before he did something impulsive and stupid.
His little dragon noodle brain was telling him that he should seek out the most beautiful of all treasures, whether that be literature, clothing, jewels, and give them to you in droves in hopes of impressing you into being his mate.
Dan Heng dismisses it quickly as it came as it’ll probably overwhelm you and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted, and with that it was back to the drawing board to brainstorm.
Gallagher:
The moment he reads your note, he’s already got ideas on how your first date should go.
He’s not pissing about, not when you’ve given him the opportunity to treat you like he thought you should be treated; like you were the most priceless thing in existence because to him you very much were.
So why should he hesitate and potentially miss his chance to be with the person of his dreams?
He knew your favourite drink like the back of his hand from the countless times he’s made in perfecting it to your liking, so that wasn’t going to be as much of a problem as asking you out on a date was.
But he’ll figure something out, even if he’d have to improvise on the day. It would’ve been worth it if it meant having you by his side by the end of it.
Blade:
He’s not use to this sort of thing as love notes were a foreign concept to him.
He understood the intention and meaning behind it but he wasn’t the one to receive such notes.
So when you dropped off the note with him and ran the faster he’s ever seen you with a flustered look upon your face, Blade instantly knew then and there what the note was solely from your expression.
He wasn’t stupid so why he feeling a fluttering within his chest upon making this revelation?
It wasn’t painful nor caused his body any ache nor strife, if anything the more the warm, euphoric feeling spread throughout his body, the more his daily pains become an after thought in light of a possibility that you might actually like him back.
He always thought that the stories and blood -both his own and others- that stained his hands would run you off within a moments notice. Instead you choose to grasp his hands gently, wipe away the blood unfazed and still be able to look into his eyes after all that and smile.
You were his and Blade would be damned if he allowed anyone to encroach on you, regardless of their intentions. You weren’t to be taken from him for he’s already been through a lot and you weren’t going to be another name amongst the lost.
Boothill:
‘What’s this? Finally come to confess to me have you?’ He’d tease but would be genuinely surprised when he opens the note and finds that it actually is a confession note.
His crush? Liking him back? Bullshit!
He may act confident and self assured but he was in heavily in denial to begin with, but the more he re-read the note, he could tell that you were being serious. Which was a drastic change from your typically shy and anxious demeanour.
He even had to pinch the skin of his face to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming this up and that you were genuinely in love with him.
Sad he knows, but would you really be willing to date a man who wouldn’t be able to feel you expect from his face? Yeah he didn’t think so.
And yet you’ve proven him wrong by writing him a love letter confessing how you didn’t care about that, and how you loved him regardless if he could feel you or not. He was still someone you cared for deeply at the end of the day, never less someone you happened to find attractive. You weren’t shallow and Boothill knows this.
Not only that but he was genuinely scared that his best wasn’t going to be enough for you, sweet, kind, caring you…However Boothill recognises that hesitating and fearing the what ifs weren’t going to help him in wining your heart true and proper.
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nickfowlerrr · 5 months
Text
sit me on your throne.
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pairing: geralt of rivia x curvy!reader
warnings: i don't know what i'm writing about but if you're here for smut, there's smut. 18+ only. probably ooc - i've only seen season one. if i'm missing something that needs to be tagged please let me know.
words: 4.3k
notes: i really truly do not know. forgive me not.
thank you in advance for reading! any thoughts, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated. let me know what you think. (unless its mean then pls don't).
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"You kneel before me?"
Your question is born of nothing but pure confusion as you tilt your head in bemusement at the bulking behemoth of a man before you.
He hadn’t done as much when he first arrived, not to your displeasure, so it was odd to see him do it now - especially after the battle he has just fought.
He is at your feet, his long white hair darker and dingier now, dirty as his clothes and skin; marred with caked mud and what you can only assume is the blood and guts of the beast he has defeated.
The stench he carries with him is pungent, nothing but putrid, and yet that somehow doesn't take from his striking good looks; those paired with his brevity and bluntness have held your attention from the moment he stepped foot in your kingdom.
He is a man of little words, this Geralt of Rivia. His jester of a companion having done much of the speaking - perhaps too much - for him since they arrived.
Geralt says nothing still, only meets your gaze as he takes steady breaths. His yellow eyes, feline and harsh, cut through you in a number of ways - none of which you'd care to share aloud. You have a feeling he knows, however, just how affected you are by him no matter how well you think you hide it.
You are alone together, no guards at the ready, no advisors by your side. Most of your kingdom is now quiet and abandoned, including the halls of your once flourishing and lively home. The halls of this castle have been eerily silent since the night your men went on their mission to save their homestead. You had already sent word for The Witcher, you implored them to keep safe indoors until his arrival. They did not listen. Most of them still having seen you as the young princess you once were, the others simply following the orders of their leaders. You may have been their "Queen", but their faith in their commanders was stronger.
Those commanders who led them to their deaths... You still sigh at the loss.
Those who were not taken, slain, by the beast have long since fled for their lives. You cannot blame them. But you certainly could not join them. Your castle once held many souls, but now it is only you and a handful of others. Titles of servants, but you really never were one for titles.
"Your friend?" you wonder.
"Somewhere," he answers shortly, his voice low and deep as he speaks.
You quirk a brow, "Safe?"
"For as long as he keeps himself from trouble."
You hum, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. Their relationship amuses you, you must admit.
"You needn't kneel, Witcher," you implore as you sit back on the throne. It is yours in name alone. It has never felt right to sit in. He seems to sense your unease, but he doesn't speak it. You continue, "You have done what you said you would, I will do the same."
Still, he doesn't stand. Not until you flick your eyes and move to stand yourself. He rises easily as he stands before you still. There is not much distance between you, and the stench of him stings your eyes and threatens to gag you. Your face scrunches in disgust as you turn it away from him, grimacing.
"I've had a bath readied for you, and new clothes set aside," you inform him, moving to pass around. He follows you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes cling to you. "Your meals will be served as soon as you're done. I don't imagine anyone would be able to stomach a bite with that smell coming off of you."
He says nothing but lets out an amused "hm" at your words, still following as you lead him to the bathing room.
You thank Amaleah as you enter and she leaves with a nod to you, her breath catching when she smells Geralt enter behind you. It's as fast an exit as you've ever seen.
You move toward the bath and wade a hand in the water. It's a bit hot for your preferences but it should get him clean. You ensure the soap Amaleah brought in is fragrant enough and still look for some nicer oils to add to the water; when you turn around to ask your guest his want, you find yourself stunned silent as you're met with the sight of his broad, bare chest. His muscles flex under his pale and scarred skin as he moves, his solid chest is covered in dark hair, trailing down his torso. His arms are strong and big and a thought at the back of your mind wonders how comfortable he must be to lie with.
You blink, mouth parted slightly as you take a breath. You watch his clothing fall as he discards them and your gaze follows his hand as he begins to strip himself of the rest of his garments.
He is completely shameless as he watches you watch him. You feel as if you are in a trance, you cannot bring yourself to look away despite the heavy weight of his gaze assuring you he sees you staring.
It’s not an act of brazenness, truly you would look away and leave him at once…if you could.
“I’ve slain your monster,” he speaks and your eyes rise back to his chest, trying to ignore the heaviness of his thick cock as it hangs so temptingly before you. No, not temptingly…Shamelessly. He has put himself entirely on display before you, without an ounce of shame or concern, and you are still frozen to your spot. “Was there something else you required of me, Your Highness?”
The title gets your attention, the breath caught in your chest finally flows and your eyes flick up to meet his. You can't tell entirely if he meant it as an insult or if he thought you'd prefer it to Queen.
You remain quiet for a moment as you try to gather a response. Either way...
“I told you that wasn’t necessary, Witcher.”
“Geralt.”
You swallow hard as he takes a small step forward, and you will yourself to not break his intense gaze.
"Geralt. I thank you, for saving what was left of this ruined kingdom, but I consider myself not princess, nor Queen, any longer."
"Did you ever?" he asks, staring into your eyes a moment longer before he steps closer still, looking you up and down then nudging you aside, eliciting goosebumps along your skin, rising under his touch.
You glance over your shoulder as he continues past you, lowering himself into the tub.
You think.
You know your answer, but you won't say it aloud. Clearly he knows it, too.
You can hear the water sloshing with his movements as he begins to clean himself.
You take a deep breath.
"The clothes will be brought in shortly. You might tell Jaskier when you're done that the food is ready."
"Ah," he says amid his washing, "so you do know his name."
"Of course I do. I've grown quite fond of the bard in the week since you've arrived."
"I couldn't tell," he says plainly, yet still biting - his words sharp with sarcasm.
You furrow your brow at his meaning and then there's a laugh at the door and you look to see Jaskier as he leans on it. "You sound jealous, there, Geralt," he taunts, holding folded clothing in his hands as he pushes off the door to saunter in. "I wouldn't worry. I don't believe I'm the one who's caught her eye." He looks to you with a smirk, bowing before you, "Your Majesty."
"I am no longer queen," you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.
"My Queen, none the less," he simpers before standing to his full height.
You smile tightly, eyes narrowed playfully at him before you finally move to exit, leaving them to their inevitable quarreling. And trying not to focus on the tingling still affecting you between your legs.
--
You eat with the women in the kitchen; the dining hall one of your least favorite places to be.
There is a calm yet solemn energy around you all. A peace in the slaying of the monster who took your kingdom, and still the grief from the loss of it all, your people, their families, friends...
Calliope readies the plates for your guests as you bid them all a goodnight, kissing Amaleah's son on his head on your way out with a 'sweet dreams'. Since his father was killed, the poor thing has nightmares recurringly. You only hope with the monster's demise, they might ease for him some. He is far too young to be in such pain...
You think to pass by the dining hall on your way to bed to thank Geralt once more and wish them both a goodnight as well but think better of it.
You will see them in the morning before they set off. You still owe him his coin and you know he won't be leaving without it.
--
You open the heavy door of your chamber and once you are inside, begin to undress.
Slipping into your shift, you swiftly make your way into bed. You thought you'd fall asleep quickly, but as you lay there, your mind wanders to thoughts of only one.
You have one hand on your lower belly, the other resting on the soft skin right above it.
You sigh and close your eyes, but all you see when you do is his built form. His dark, firelight stare set on you. His clothes left on the ground as he stands strong in his glory.
You breathe deeply, your hand starting to slowly drift down your stomach as you tickle yourself. You're so tempted to touch where you want it most, but you can't bring yourself to do it. Not just yet.
You slip your hand between your spread thighs, softly running your fingers across the sensitive skin you find there.
It'd been a week of torment, having Geralt so close and not being able to act on your most base feelings. You know he knows what you think when you look at him, if Jaskier can see it, surely, he can too.
You might feel embarrassed but with the way he's managed to get closer and closer to you with each passing day as he awaited the beasts' return, you would wager he feels similarly.
It feels like an age that you lie awake. All the noises about the castle, not that there were many, have settled and it assures you everyone has retired for the night.
Sleep begins to nip at you but the stronger pull is to the dissatisfaction that weighs on you. The emptiness that echos through your body and soul.
Your fingers twitch, and you begin to glide closer to your uncovered core, the need to be touch too much to be ignored for much longer. Your eyes are closed and you imagine it isn't your hand running over your skin, but rather his large, rough palm feeling you, teasing you just so...
Just as you inch closer, your eyes snap open in the dark as a heartbreaking scream cuts through the night air. You sit up, pulling your hands off of yourself. You know immediately where the sound comes from and who it belongs to.
You get out of bed, intent to make sure Hartley and Amaleah both are okay.
You open your door just as the one across the wide hall does the same. You frighten at the unexpected movement but are then unsurprised to be across Geralt.
He is shirtless again, and his eyes are wide as his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths.
"Are you alright?" he asks, voice hard.
"Yes, I'm fine. It was the boy, Hartley. He has nightmares," you explain, keeping your voice quiet as to not disturb the renewed peace of the night.
The flick of the flame that lights the hallway allows you both to see one another. You say nothing for a moment as your eyes fall to his bare torso.
"Did the clothes not fit?"
He looks down at himself briefly, then back to you. He shakes his head, "I prefer to sleep naked."
You burn at his words, swallowing hard. "Oh. Well, I- I'm going to check on them, make sure they're fine."
"I'll go with you."
It's not a question, it's a statement. You stop in your start, turning to look at him. You say nothing, just blink and quickly carry on as you were.
You make your way down the stairs and down the hall until you see the flames licking at the end of the hallway.
You follow the glow to Amaleah's room and knock gently as you look in the open door.
She turns and looks to you, her eyes tired and cheeks damp as she rocks her toddler in her arms. He is sleeping again as she rubs his back gently, more to soothe herself than anything.
She sniffles, "Your High-" she stops herself, "sorry, forgive me," she whispers.
"Don't apologize. Please," you implore her. "I know it's habit."
"Are you two alright?" Geralt asks from right at your back.
"We are, thank you. Just another nightmare," her voice gets thick at the explanation. You know it hurts her that there isn't anything she can do but be there to comfort him when they come.
You smile sadly and nod. "We'll let you be, then. Do try to get some rest. He'll be okay," you reassure her.
You pull the door nearly closed and wind up with Geralt firmly at your back.
You turn into him but he doesn't seem to mind as he just looks down at you nearly pressed against his chest. You try to budge him to turn and move back down the hall but he doesn't waver. After a second, he relents and steps to the side, allowing you to go back down the hallway first.
It isn't until you come up on the throne room that Geralt speaks again.
"Might I have a word with you?" he asks.
You stop and turn to eye him as he stands at the entryway of the door.
"Now?" you question.
He nods once, "Now."
You approach him trepidatiously, and as you near, he gestures you in the room before him, extending his arm, "Princess."
Your eyes narrow again. And you turn on him, watching as he enters the room behind you. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"What am I doing?"
"Princess? Your Highness?" you quote him.
"I assumed you preferred it to your true title," he tilts his head at you.
"True title," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "I prefer no title at all."
"And what shall I call you then?"
You remind him your name, not that he really needs to be reminded. You know he knows it full well.
He considers you, then closes in on where you stand in front of the throne.
You don't move back, no, you quite like the closeness when he doesn't reek of death and innards.
Geralt seems to appreciate your resolve, his lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile as he studies your face.
"It's a beautiful name," he speaks lowly, taking another step into your space and raising his hand to gently caress your cheek before he leans in to speak against your ear. Your hands touch his solid stomach in an attempt to keep yourself upright, you can feel the muscles as they flex under your delicate graze. "I think I might prefer princess," he husks.
He slips away from you, turning to take a seat on the throne instead. You follow his movements and turn yourself to face him. You're stunned and completely set ablaze all at once.
"Well I don't."
"No," he smirks, agreeing with you, one large hand settling on his thick thigh as he spreads his legs, "you don't."
"It's too bad," he tsks, his voice a smooth rumbling. "No title, no throne."
"I don't want any throne."
Your eyes are glued to his thighs as he brings attention to his lap by rubbing the muscle there.
"None?" he asks before his gaze shifts directly on you, his mesmerizing stare burning into you. His voice lowers deeper than you've ever heard as a desperate longing shoots through you once again, resounding deep in your core. "Not even mine?"
Your mouth goes dry and your brain fuzzy as you take in his meaning.
Unthinking, you step toward him closer.
"You mean to defile the very one you sit on?"
"You don't seem to care for it much anyway."
Another step.
You are nearly stood between his spread legs, carefully you reach out a hand, your fingers light on his thigh. You feel his muscle then, flicking your eyes up. His gaze is dark and heated.
"That's true enough," you say, your voice breathy in a near whisper.
You gasp as your suddenly pulled closer by Geralt's rough hands around your waist. You can feel him through the thin fabric of your shift and its only then you realize how much of your figure he has seen thanks to your nightwear.
"Truer still," he speaks, "I don't mean to defile this throne." He squeezes your plush waist, groping you through your shift as your hands latch onto his solid shoulders. "I mean to defile you."
He manages to pull you onto his lap with little effort, leaning in to crash his lips into yours.
You kiss him back hungrily, chasing his lips as you settle on his lap. Your fingers wind in his hair and you can feel his cock growing beneath you through the material of his pants.
His hands slide down your waist and over your wide hips, reaching for the hem of your shift and pulling it up. His tongue slips past your lips and you moan, shifting your hips atop him.
You pull away, reaching for your dress and pulling it over your head, discarding it behind your back.
Geralt holds you closer, letting his lips explore your heavy breasts as you allow your head to fall back in pleasure, your hands returning to his hair.
"Geralt," you breathe, pulling him off you after a moment.
"Mm," he hums, kissing the swell of your breast once more before he moves to free himself from the restraint of his pants. He knows what you’ve both been wanting for days. What you need.
One heavy hand returns to your back, holding you by your waist while his other grips his red, throbbing cock.
He moves his tip up and down your slick center, making you whimper as he teases you - his cockhead rubbing delightfully against your sensitive clit.
He watches your face scrunch in rapture and holds you tighter to stop your wiggling about as you whimper.
He smiles smugly to himself and when you're just about to open your mouth to protest his teasing, he finally pulls you down on top of him. The sound that escapes you is music to his ears as you grasp onto him, your nails digging into the muscle of his back as your walls squeeze and stretch to accommodate his thick length, the size of him almost too much for you to take.
"Fuck," he groans as your walls tighten around him. He gives you a moment before he begins to urge you to move. He guides your hips, slow and sensually. The feeling of his hands on you motivates you to try and ride him yourself. And you do try, but you cry out again at how big he is, how fully he is stuffing you. You can barely move.
Geralt kisses you as he holds you closer, taking pity on your tight cunt and instead he moves his hands to your soft hips again. He holds you on top of him securely before he begins to fuck up into you.
You mewl as he jostles you, bouncing you up and down his cock, your breasts moving in time.
You pull on his hair, forcing him to look up from where his gaze was fixed, watching his own cock as he stretched you out for him, watching as your cunt took as much of him in as she could, up to your hooded lust filled gaze. You lean into him, chest to chest as you kiss him fervently. His lips follow yours as you taste one another. You nip at his lip and he growls, his hands gripping the ample flesh of your ass, "Keep that up," he snarls.
"And you'll what?" you breathe heavily, eyes screwed shut, jaw tight as you deadbrain on the pleasure coursing through you.
Your answer is a harsh thrust of his cock inside of you, stealing your breath while he slaps your ass, your flesh stinging from the force.
"Oh, fuck," you whimper debauchedly, your velvety walls squeezing him ever tighter as you feel yourself growing closer with every bounce. The tip of him hitting exactly where you need it to. Your body is on fire and you are loving every second of it. The feeling of him inside of you, of his hands squeezing and caressing you everywhere he can, of his lips demanding yours for more.
His grunts are growing louder and his thrusts more powerful, you kiss him hard in an effort to quiet him some, but you can feel what is coming.
Geralt is near slamming you down on top of him, the sound of your ass slapping against his thick thighs mix with the salacious sounds coming from you both and of your slick wetness as you're worked up and down his shaft, your cunt taking him better and better with each thrust.
Your hands move to hold his face, your noses brush as you breathe each other's air, lips touching just slightly.
"Geralt, I'm,"
"I know," he pants harshly, concentrated before taking your lips in his. You whimper pathetically as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. He keeps you moving a top him, your clit being stimulated with every brush of your hips over his, and then with another deep thrust it snaps before you can speak. Your voice is an empty high then silent squeak as your legs tremble and your eyes roll back. Are you even breathing? Your walls clench down on Geralt's cock and he finally allows himself to reach his own high as your tight walls flutter around him, squeezing him perfectly. You ride the waves of ecstasy as his come spills inside of you. You feel him shudder beneath you and it only adds to your feeling of weightlessness, stars in your eyes as you feel, think, breathe nothing but him.
You part from his lips and your bodies are slick with sweat as you both pant heavily. Geralt holds you to him as he softens inside of you, his forehead pressed to yours as your hand comes behind his neck, holding him to you in kind.
Your lips mimic a kiss but neither of you lean in close enough to actually do it. You work to catch your breath and settle for a minute before you finally break the quiet.
"Do I still owe you your coin?" you breathe, smiling when Geralt laughs in your face. You reach to move a stray strand of hair from his face, holding his cheek gently once you do.
Your stare into one another's eyes for a long moment, just breathing and being close.
"Where will you be off to in the morning?" you ask, hoping your solemn tone isn't as audible as it sounded to you.
"Don't know," he shakes his head, eyes straying to your lips.
You take a breath and pull his face closer to kiss him softly.
"I envy you, you know."
"Don't."
You huff a humorless laugh, readjusting yourself on his lap. "Not because you're a witcher. You may not have the most enviable life, but at least you have one. I've never made it past the most exterior gates," you smile sadly, playing with the hairs on his chest as you avoid his eye now.
"I suppose I'll have the chance, now, though. Thanks to you."
"And where will you go?" he asks.
Your gaze floats up to his and you repeat his previous answer. "I don't know. But I won't stay here. This kingdom is..." you shake your head. "I don't belong here. Never felt like I did. But I made a promise to my mother when I was young, and another to my father before he passed. I know I've let them down," you swallow the rise of emotion threatening to overcome you, "but alas, the fall of a kingdom is ever inevitable. Especially under such rule as my own."
"I've heard word of your rule from many. You're known to be kind. Caring. Protective, even. I don't believe you've failed. I think you were exactly the kind of ruler you should have been, who you needed to be. But perhaps it's a good thing you won't be forced any longer into holding power you don't desire. You're now free to do as you wish."
"I am," you nod lightly in agreement. "If only I knew where to start,” you muse with an uneasy laugh.
His hand runs up your back comfortingly; he's pensive, deep in thought for a long moment before he speaks.
"If you ready your things, I don't think Roach would mind a travel companion of her own. She seems to have taken to Belfast… I'm not sure she'd be ready to part with him so soon, anyway."
"Is that so?" you ask him, faux curiosity playing in your voice.
"And Jaskier is easier to take when I'm not the only one he has around to bother."
"Right," you nod, fighting your soft smile.
"And of course your coin would be useful as well."
"Of course," you exaggerate your agreement. "…Geralt, are you getting at something here?"
"Just that, if you want to join us…you might."
You lean into him again, thumb rubbing along his stubble lining his cheek, and this time he kisses you first. More gently than you expect. You can’t help your smile now.
You part lightly and breathe,
"I hope you mean that, Witcher. Because I just might."
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miniwheat77 · 4 months
Text
You belong to me. (Ghost x Reader.)
!reader is a Virgin, virginity loss, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Ghost is a little possessive, this is age gap smut and you’ve been warned. Ghost is like 40 in this. Absolutely NO minors!
This is not edited so sorry for any mistakes
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He doesn’t know what did it.
He doesn’t know which part of you started this… obsession.
Maybe it was your smile. Or your personality. How lively you were for being in the military. It was a cruel job and you still managed to be so happy.
Maybe it was just that you were not his normal type in women. A young virgin. Who despite being exposed to some of the toughest situations out there was still so innocent.
But something caused it, made him have that one dream. He was tucked away in his bed, sound asleep. He seen your face as he fell into a deeper sleep. You were laughing and smiling. Turning to him to acknowledge him as he walked into a room. Greeted him with a kiss.
Ghost woke in a hurry, where on earth it had come from. He doesn’t know. He had never had these feelings for you before this. They came out of nowhere. And it started fast. Like he got sucked into a black hole and could no longer figure a way out. He was gone- done for. Every second he spent around you after that, he dreaded. Because Ghost didn’t do this. He didn’t have feelings for people. But your smile. Your laugh and how it could pierce his ears from what felt like miles away. How when you spoke to him, like you were talking to a friend made his brain foggy as he watched your lips move. Lost in a daze. Most of the time you had to repeat yourself because he was so spaced out he heard none of it.
He knew he was in too deep when he started looking into you.
Finding all of your social media accounts. Coming across every single post you’d ever been featured or tagged in. He knew who your parents and grandparents were and how close you were with some. He even snuck into Price’s office once and stole any file that contained you. He knew everything there was to know about you, down to your shower routine at night.
Ghost knows he’s got to be sick for how obsessed he’d become but he just couldn’t help himself.
When he came to the conclusion that you must be a virgin, he was by your side always.
If anyone else found out that you were a virgin- it would be bad. Especially some of the men who they called enemies. They were cruel and dangerous to women. During any missions at all, Ghost was right with you.
When it started, you didn’t understand it. Why he was all over you all of a sudden but you didn’t mind. You liked Simon. If he wanted to be friends, that’s okay. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t until he was killing for you that he knew he had a problem.
When an enemy had put their hands on you, he was merciless. He could be brutal, violent. But never to you. Not ever. It ate him alive that he liked you so much and he couldn’t have you. You weren’t his. You didn’t have to listen to him, you didn’t have to consider what he said. You had no ties to him whatsoever and it drove him mad. Ghost was bothered deeply by his infatuation with you. You would never go for someone like him, not when he’s old enough to be your dad. Some nights, when it’s especially cold. He can barely stand it. He wants you close to him, by his side at all times. He wants you. He wants it all.
“Alright. let’s have a chat, shall we?” Captain Price’s voice snags Ghost out of his thoughts.
He’s sitting off to one side of the large oak table sat in the middle of the conference room. Everyone else is inside as well. You’re next to him because he chose to sit down next to you. “Obviously, we’re going to go on a break for a few weeks, I wanted you all home for a while to relax before we started up on these next few missions. If you didn’t want to go, I can still find you guys something to do on base. There will still be other commanding officers and some other new recruits keeping it up and running. If you wanted to stay on base I need to know by tomorrow.”
Ghost will always respect Price. Always.
“I’d like to stay on base, Captain.”
Ghost respected him, and right now he almost wanted to give the old man a kiss once you’ve spoken up.
“Okay, Y/N. Anyone else?”
“Me, always.” Ghost mumbles. “Right, obviously.” Captain Price nudges him. “Workaholic.” Price mumbles, making Simon smile underneath his balaclava.
Ghost doesn’t hear another word of the meeting. You don’t say anything else and that’s all he wanted to hear. Although he wondered why you were choosing to stay on base when you had a family.
Once the day came when everyone else left, Ghost was going to miss them. He always did during breaks. Especially on the few he’s been left alone. He missed Price’s lectures. Soaps banter, Gaz’s pranks. He missed them all, they were the only family he had of course. But he didn’t mind this time, not since you’d be around. You keep him company until they came back, if you liked it or not. Ghost was getting soft as he got older, he knew it. But he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t really want to anymore. He liked to be close with people even if he knew it would kill him if he lost any of them.
It takes a few days before Ghost finishes up what he usually does. Cleaning up his room, getting rid of some things. He likes to reset completely when he has the time. When he’s done, he finally decides to seek you out.
It seems as if you’re doing the same, your door is propped open and he walks right inside. “Hey.” You’re reaching for a book on a bookshelf. “Oh, hey Ghost.” You smile at him. You turn back to the bookshelf, turning back to him in a hurry. The book topples over onto you and you step away as the rest follow suit. He can’t help but laugh. “You’re.. not wearing a mask.” You blush. “No, I’m not.” He laughs. “You need help?”
“No I just didn’t expect you to come in here with your face out like that!” You laugh, picking up the books and setting them on your bed. “I mean.. I can put it back on.” He laughs. “No! No- I just. You caught me off guard that’s all.” You blush, avoiding his gaze as you stumble over his words. “You can’t walk in here practically naked, I mean you’re showing so much skin.” You joke. You can actually see his lips turn up in a smile and it makes your chest ache just how handsome he is. “Yeah, I know it’s a lot of handsome to just throw around like this.” He smirks, hearing you laugh. He loves it.
If he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d never complain again.
You roll your eyes.
“I see we had the same idea, bit of a reset.”
“Yeah, I just wanted it to all be set up and clean for when we go back out. Swear I’m still cleaning up sand from our trip to Iran.” You laugh. “Oh god me too.” Simon laughs. He sits down on the edge of your bed, watching you as you replace the books. He offers you help of course but you deny it. “I was wondering why you chose to stay, I thought you had mentioned visiting your parents?” Ghost doesn’t miss the way you stiffen.
“Uh.. well.” You turn to him. “It’s.. kind’ve… personal I guess.” You mumble. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He looks up at you. “It’s just this.. family friend we have.” You start, looking at the cover of the book in your hands. “He’s been my dad’s friend since I was in my early teens.” Ghosts hair stands up, worried at where you’re going with this. You sit down at the small desk you have in your room. “He always acted really weird when I was around and when I was home last… he tried.” You pause. “He tried making a pass at me, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It turned into this whole thing. My dad got involved and him and my mum didn’t believe me. They believed him. So yeah, they planned this big party for me to come back. But I found out they invited him so I lied and said I was stuck here. But.. I think you needed some company anyways.” You smile. You’re trying to make light of what you’ve just told him.
“I’m sorry to hear that. He didn’t touch you did he?”
Ghost knows he’ll track him down. Torture him for laying a finger on you.
“He tried.”
Ghost nods. “He left with a bloody nose.” You laugh. “You know, if he ever does anything to you. This entire base will have his head on a pike.” He looks up at you. The way he looks at you has chills rising on your body. He’s deadly serious. You smile. “I appreciate it, but I don’t plan on going back. Not when they sided with him so easily.” You laugh. “Ah, you get to missing them too much, just take me with you. I’ll be your body guard.” He laughs. Inside, Ghost is seething. How dare he. How dare he try to hurt you.
“I appreciate it, but I’m not putting you through that. They’re hard to get along with. Besides that if I brought him a guy twice my age I’d probably give my dad a heart attack.” Ghost laughs at this. “What the man doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” He winks, seeing the pink rise to your cheeks has you turning away from him.
“You’re funny.” You giggle.
———
For the next couple of weeks, you spend nearly every second of every day with Ghost. He helps you with your chores, you help him with his. You get done faster and get to spend even more time doing practically nothing together. You aid on a couple of spare missions, he shows you a little bit of mechanic work, he even rents a rental car in the town you’re in so that he could show you around. It’s by far some of the most fun you’ve ever had and you like being so close to Ghost. But there’s been something nagging at you in the back of your mind.
And that’s your growing feelings for him.
Your parents have nonstop harassed you to come home, even if it’s for a couple days. You ended up folding but the thought of leaving Ghost here alone drives you crazy. You never thought you’d be so close to the Lieutenant.
You’re sitting at the edge of your bed when he knocks at your door. Right about now, the two of you would be going down to have dinner. But this time, he shows up with trays in his hands. You smile as you open the door. “Mess hall is full, thought I’d bring you something before there’s nothing left.” He laughs. “Thanks Ghost.” You smile. “Is something going on?” He asks.
“Ah… I just.. thought I’d ask you something.” You say nervously. “What’s up?” He asks. “Well.. my parents have been nagging me to go home.” You sigh. He nods his head, sitting down at your desk. “And.. I told them I’d go home for just a couple days, no longer than a week.” You shrug. He nods his head. “Yeah? Are you going to be okay?”
“See that’s the thing. I.. was wondering.” You laugh. “If you’d go as like.. my.. I don’t know.” You pause. “Pretend boyfriend?” You laugh. He turns to you. “Yeah, no problem.” He looks up at you. “Wait really?” You ask.
“Course, not like I got anything better to do. Besides, if that bastard puts his hands on you it gives me an excuse to hurt him.” He shrugs. You laugh. “Hey. I really appreciate it. You have no idea.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “My dad is probably going to give you a lot of grief for how old you are though.” Ghost laughs. “Love, I’m in the military. I’ll be just fine.” You smile. Thank god.
———
You sigh, which makes Ghost turn his head to you. “What’s going on?” He asks. He’s pulling into the driveway. “That’s.. his car.” You sigh. “Hey.” He places his hand on your thigh to reassure you. “He’s not going to do anything. I swear I won’t leave your side.” You smile. “Thank you Ghost.”
Captain Price was surprised to hear that the two of you had left together, but after speaking to Simon in private he understood why. Simon felt a little bad for spilling your business but he was your Captain after all. You still had another few weeks before you were due back anyways, you had time to kill. Ghost helps you unload your bags. Carrying them up to the front door with you. Once you reach the door, your mum opens it up.
She’s shocked to see that you aren’t alone.
“Hi Y/N!” She smiles. Bringing you into a hug. “Hey.” You mumble. “Who is your friend?” She asks. “Oh uh.. this is Simon.” You nod. Simon reached his hand out. You can tell your mum is slightly intimidated by the sheer size of him. She takes his hand anyways.
“My boyfriend.”
Your mums eyes nearly bulge out of her head when those words leave your lips but she smiles nonetheless. “It’s nice to meet you, Simon.” She stands to the side. Allowing the both of you inside. “Your dad and Mike are in the back.” She smiles. Ghost can see you go stiff.
So his name is Mike.
“Simon I can show you Y/N’s room. So that you can go see your dad.��� She turns to you. “That’s alright, Y/N said she wanted to show me her old room.” He smiles, rejecting her offer. You mentally thanked him. “Oh alright than. Well. I’m just finishing up dinner.” She smiles. “You know where to find us.”
You nod your head, leading Simon up to your old bedroom. “You are literally a life saver Simon.” You mumble the moment the door is closed. He laughs. “So.. am I staying in here with you. They got any strict rules?” He laughs. “No weird rules but there’s only one bed.” You blush. “That’s alright. Just don’t be a blanket hog.” He nudges you. “Let’s go meet Mike.” He grasps your wrist, tugging you along. You groan out. “I know you wanna bite his head off Simon but you can’t.”
“Says who?”
You can’t help but laugh. “Definitely not me.” You mumble. You lead Simon out to the back door to the back yard where everyone now sits. He opens up the door for you, your mum notices how kind he is to you immediately. She didn’t say anything to your dad yet, unsure of how this would go. It’s quiet the moment the both of you move closer. “Uh.. hey honey.” your dad smiles. He’s skeptical. “Who’s this?” He stands up. Ghost sees the man that’s made you uncomfortable. Staring him down from the moment they lock eyes. Only looking away to shake your dad’s hand. “I’m Simon.” He smiles.
“My boyfriend.” You finish for him. Your dad nods. “Nice to meet you Simon. You seem a little old.”
“Ah, to be honest I thought Y/N was older, she’s pretty mature for her age.” He nods. “Yeah, that’s true. She’s a good girl. Smart too.”
“Absolutely.” Simon agrees. Simon can see that Mike is uncomfortable upon hearing that you’ve got a boyfriend. It only makes Simon want to tear him to shreds even more. “Oh uh. Simon. This is Mike, he’s a family friend.”
Simon is sure to grip his hand extra hard as he shakes it. Towering over him. He wants him to feel small.
“Let’s sit for dinner yeah?” Your mum breaks the awkward silence.
It was nice enough outside to be able to sit outside to eat. Everyone keeps asking about Simon. How the two of you met and how you came to be. Simon made up something cute on the spot and you couldn’t deny the butterflies it gave you. Simon is a great man, and it sucks that you have to fake this.
“Hey Y/N. You mind helping me get some stuff out of my car?” Mike speaks up.
“Nonsense, no reason she should do it when I’m around. I’ll help you.” Simon Stands up from the bench. Mike stiffens up. It’s clear that there he had an ulterior motive. He’ll most likely have to come up with something in the spot. Simon expects him to say “oh I forgot.”
He leads Simon to his trunk.
Simon quickly notices that it’s empty. “Oh shoot. Maybe I forgot to put it in here after all.” Simon lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s not that you wanted to get Y/N alone so you could be a fucking creep toward her some more.”
“Excuse me?”
Simon grasps hold of the man, slamming into the back of the car. His hands gripping his lapels.
“She told me about you. And I’m not gonna let her be alone around you because you’re a fucking freak. If you even so much as look at her wrong I’ll bury you. And nobody will ever know where to find you. Do I make myself clear?”
Mike nods his head eagerly. “Yes I understand.” He flinches. “Great. Don’t come around again while she’s here. If I see your face again we’re going to have a problem. And if you tell her dad about this conversation we had, I’ll be sure to make the bullshit worth my while. Now go back in there and let them know you’ve forgotten about something and that you have to go.” He nods his head, and finally Simon lets him go. They both walk back into the house and Simon returns to his spot next to you. “I must’ve forgotten it at home, but my boss called me and asked me to come in for some last minute questions, so unfortunately I’ll have to get going.”
He looks pale. You know immediately something has happened. “Aw, sorry to hear that Mike. You have a good day alright?” Your mum smiles. Simon wants to scowl at her but knows he can’t.
It’s getting late. Both you and Simon are tired from the time zones and your parents are going to go play Bingo, Mike invited them out.
Unusual when you were home. Simon must’ve really scared him. “You two get some rest, we’ll be home later tonight.” Your mum smiles. Once they’ve left, the weight leaves your shoulders. “Fuck me, thank god.” You laugh. You start up the stairs and Simon follows you. “What did you say to him?”
“What are you talking about?” He asks. “Mike looked like he’d seen a damn ghost, you know exactly what I’m talking about. What’d you do to him?”
“Me? Say something to Mike? No way.” He smirks. He stretches back and his jacket raises and you can see his toned stomach, you have to turn away. Swallowing hard. “Liar.”
“I’m the Ghost he seen, darling. But you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Alright?” He forces you to look at him. Nodding your head. “Thank you Simon.”
“Nothing to it sweetheart.” He laughs. “Your parents probably think you’re going through a crisis. Did you see the way they looked at me all day?”
“Yeah. It’s just because you’re older.” You giggle, laying down on the bed. Simon throws himself down beside you. “First guy I’ve ever brought home and you’re almost as old as my dad.” You laugh. You freeze up as the words leave your mouth. “I- I mean-“
“No worries, your secret is safe with me.” He turns to look at you. “What?”
Simon chuckles. “I know that you’re a virgin Y/N.” You can feel your blood run cold. “What? How do you know that?”
Ghost laughs. “I can just tell.” You look down, blushing.
“Hey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He rolls onto his side, resting on his hand. “It’s actually kind’ve impressive. As pretty as you are I’m surprised nobody has scooped you up and married you yet.” He laughs.
“You think I’m pretty?” You look up at him.
He laughs. “Of course I do. What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought that much into it. I didn’t think I was that pretty.”
“So clearly you’ve never looked to a mirror.” He rolls his eyes. “Tough talk coming from you. I had no idea how handsome you were until you surprised me without a mask on.” You roll your eyes. “Oh? Handsome? Don’t let your panties get too wet.” he winks. Crimson creeps up your cheeks and you shake your head at him. “Shut up. You’re so full of yourself.” You roll your eyes. He laughs. “I’m kidding.”
Once the conversation has died down, you’ve nuzzled closer to him unintentionally.
“Y/N.” He speaks up out of the blue.
“Yeah?” You look at him. “There’s a way to make this easier yknow.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean.. we’re faking it. Right?”
“Yeah?”
“What if we didn’t?”
You sit up, looking at him in confusion. The way your hair falls perfectly as you look at him, so beautiful when you’re confused. “I don’t think I understand.” You laugh. “What if we didn’t fake it?”
“Are.. are you saying that-“
“I want you to be my girlfriend.”
You didn’t understand metaphors in person until those words left his lips and the earth stopped spinning. It feels like your blood freezes over in your veins. “I-“ you freeze up. He sits up. Taking your hand in his. “I know I’m throwing a lot at you right now. But I’ve felt this way about you for some time. I mean you had to have noticed me coming around you more right?”
“I.. I guess so. I just thought it was because… well I don’t know.” You blush, looking down. “I know a little bit more about you than I should.. and I know it’s wrong of me. You’re so young and I can’t ask you to give up your life for me.” He breathes. “How?”
“I did a little snooping. Through your social media. And.. your file.”
“My file? Like the one in our Captain’s office?”
He shrugs.
Heat pools between your legs, you’ve never been so attracted to anyone in your entire life. “You.. stole files to get to know me?” You look up at him. “Well when you put it that way it sounds like I’m a creep.”
“You are a creep. If you wanted to know you could’ve asked me.” You smirk. You’re clearly poking fun at him. “Yeah, doesn’t take a genius to see how perfectly innocent you are. You n your perfect unfucked pussy.”
Your mouth drops open and you shove him back. “I’m kidding- I’m kidding.” He laughs. “Watch your mouth, Riley. I might be a girl but I’ll still kick your ass.”
“I believe it. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He laughs.
“So what do you say?”
“You really want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask. He nods. “You’re not just saying that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not going to have sex with me and than dump me are you?”
He looks stunned by your question. “I might be an asshole but jeez. Have some faith in me.” He mumbles.
“Fine.” You laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“Good, god I’ve been waiting for this.” He sits up, pressing his lips to yours immediately.
He pulls you back beside him, his lips not moving from yours until he feels he’s had enough. He pulls you closer into his side, tugging the blanket up over the both of you.
Simon almost never sleeps well. He spends most of his time awake, seeing nothing but darkness. But with the bedside lamp on, he can see you clearly. And he thinks you’re even more beautiful asleep.
He knows how stressful this has been for you. You never stopped tapping your foot once you left the airport. You never noticed him making an attempt to soothe you. Holding it still so that you would relax a little more. You briefly feel his fingertips gliding through your hair. You’re peaceful when you’re asleep. Nothing bad. You’re safe here, so long as Simon is around.
He only hopes you’ll want him around forever.
———
“Honey… is everything okay?” Your mum asks. Simon is still asleep, it’s early. You’re sitting down across from her at your table.
“What? Why?”
“Because.. Simon is so much older than you honey. You.. you don’t really expect this to go anywhere do you?”
You pause, looking up at her. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms. “Y/N… I’m not trying to be mean okay. It’s just.. men like Simon don’t want a relationship. They just want-“
You raise your hand up, stopping her.
“Don’t you dare categorize Simon.”
She sighs. “Y/N. You know that’s not what I mean. I just mean that men like Simon only have one thing on their mind.”
“Yeah? And that is?”
“You know exactly what I mean Y/N.”
“Sex? You think he’s only with me for sex?”
“Y/N… lower your voice.” She seethes.
“Yeah well if he only wanted me for sex he’d be long gone by now.” Her eyes widen.
“You’ve already slept with him? How long have you been together?”
“Couple weeks.” You shrug. She shakes her head. “I thought we raised you better than this.” You freeze, looking up at her and laughing. “I don’t even want to hear any of that considering you wouldn’t even side with your own daughter after Mike made a pass at me.”
“Not this again Y/N.”
“Yeah, not anymore. Because if he touches me again Simon is going to break his hand.”
She shakes her head. “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m not a kid anymore. I can make my own decisions. I mean for christ’s sake, I kill people for a living.” You scoff. “And for the record. Simon isn’t like other guys. I’ve watched him kill people for trying to hurt me.” You laugh, standing up. “I think we’ll probably be heading out first thing in the morning, this was clearly a mistake.” You make your way upstairs. “Maybe we won’t be here when you change your mind, when he hurts you.”
“You wouldn’t be there anyways.” You roll your eyes. You hear her leave through the front door. Her car starting.
You make your way upstairs. Simon sitting at the edge of the bed. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Did you hear that?”
Simon nods his head. “I’m sorry Y/N.” He breathes. “Mike is a fucking creep and they’re fucked up for not believing you.”
“What? No. That’s- no.” You laugh. “I could care less about them believing me about Mike. It’s her shit talking you that drives me crazy. You’ve always been good to me and that’s wrong of her to say.”
Simon laughs. “I don’t exactly have the best rep Y/N. You should’ve known that before you started dating me.”
You turn to look at him, and the look in your eyes has his smile fading. “I… I’m sorry.” He scratches the back of his head nervously.
“Don’t be.” You mumble the words under your breath. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to offend you-“ you start toward him, kissing him hard. You push him back into the bed. “Woah- Y/N.” He pushes you up. “What are you doing?” He breathes. A gasp leaving his lips when you climb on top of him to straddle him. “Shit.” He grits his teeth. “Hey- listen. You aren’t thinking straight.” You look up at him, eyes dripping lust. “I’m thinking just fine.”
He grits his teeth as you rock your hips down into him. He quickly flips you over. “Y/N. You’re not ready for this.”
“Simon.” You’re breathless as you look up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for this, to be honest.”
He stares down at you. God he wants this, of course he does. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. That’s not him. He lowers himself down again, locking his lips with yours. Your heart is thumping in your chest and he can hear it. “Is this really where you want to do this?” He pulls away. You look around. Biting back a smirk. “I’ll take that as a yeah.” He shakes his head, standing up. The door doesn’t have a lock, so he puts a chair up in front of it. When he turns back you’ve already shed your shirt, and you’re working on your pants. He’s still wearing sweatpants.
“I don’t have anything..” he sighs. “It’s okay.” You nod.
He pushes you back, moving himself between your legs. “You trust me?” He asks. You nod your head. Looking up at him. “M’gonna try not to hurt you.” He breathes. “I want you to know that I’d never take advantage of you. If you don’t like anything at all, you tell me.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I know.”
He slides down the soft pajama pants you’ve got on. He tried so hard not to smother you the night before. He wants it all with you but knows not to move too fast, he doesn’t want to scare you off. He kisses you, moving lower down your body. Scattering kisses over your soft skin. Hearing you whine out as he moves down your chest. Over your stomach and onto your thighs. You lift your head, looking him in the eyes as he glides his tongue through your folds for the first time. The first time you’ve ever been touched by a man. Your eyes grow heavy, and you gasp. He sucks at your clit and watches you squirm as he tongues your clit. You try to clamp your thighs shut but he forces them open. Wanting you to get used to him touching you, relax you a little bit. He’s going to need you relaxed for when he enters you for the first time. He keeps it up for a few minutes until your thighs are shivering. You’re right on the edge but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.
Pulling away just as he’s got you to the edge. Hearing you whine out.
You’re already sweaty and your legs are jello.
“Relax. You’re ready for me sweetheart.” He moves himself between your legs, kissing back up your stomach and chest. “You are so beautiful like this. So beautiful.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna fuck you now. Do you think you can handle it?” He asks. “Yes.” You answer fast. He pushes his sweats down to his mid thigh.
Just then, you hear the door close downstairs. “Shh. It’s alright.” He spits in his hand, gliding it over his cock. Slicking himself up as much as he can. Not wanting to hurt you any more than he has to. He holds your thighs open. Lining himself up with your entrance. He starts to slip between the folds of your pussy, your mouth popping open. He knows you’re about to cry out, clamping a hand over your mouth and burying himself the rest of the way inside of you. Sealing the deal.
This isn’t just casual anymore. You’re his now.
He lowers himself down. Still halted.
“You belong to me.”
You cry into his hand but he muffles it. He slides himself out of you and rocks his hips back into you. Feeling the wetness of your tears on his hand. “My god you are tight.” He breathes. Clenching his eyes shut. He rocks into you at a steady pace. A knock at the door has you going stiff and he rests his hand on your stomach. The other around your mouth still. He draws his hand away from your stomach, pressing his index finger over his lips. Shushing you.
“Y/N. We need to talk.”
It’s your dad.
Simon slowly draws his hand away from your mouth. Making sure you’ll be quiet. But he doesn’t stop his thrusts.
“Okay- I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Mike is here.”
Simon grits his teeth, shaking his head. “I said I’ll be down in a minute.”
Your dad sighs at the other end of the door. His footsteps disappearing down the stairs.
“Focus on me. M’gonna make you feel good baby.” He breathes.
He adjusts himself to be angled just right. Holding you still as he starts to rock himself into that one spot. Your mouth falls open the first time he brushes up against it. That spongy spot that’s so sensitive. “Cover your mouth darling. S’alright. Just relax.” He’s whispering. His voice so low you can barely hear it. You clamp your own hand on your mouth as he holds your hips steady, rocking into you. You’re barely keeping it together and that’s what he wants. He wants you to fall apart. He wants you on him. Clamping down around him. He wants to draw you in closer. You’re his and he wants to show you that. He holds you steady, keeping the same pace. He wants to be more rough but knows you aren’t quite ready for that. He moves your hand away from your mouth to kiss you. His lips move against yours sloppily and you notice his thrusts are a little sloppy as well. He’s getting close, but so are you. The unfamiliar feelings of a knot builds in your lower belly.
His teeth latch onto your bottom lip. Pulling it between his teeth and sucking at it. Your whines egg him on. Pulling him into you. He’s addicted.
“Simon… I’m really close.” You whine. Your voice is low and he knows nobody can hear you. Thank god, they don’t deserve to hear such angelic noises. You’re good. You’re the perfect amount of good Simon needs in his dark life. You make him better. His cock throbs hard inside of you. He grits his teeth. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle with me. I can take it.” You breathe, looking up at him. He laughs. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into baby.”
“I think I do.”
Simon lifts you up, laying you down on the floor, if they’re downstairs, they’ll hear the bed creaking. He pushes your legs up, and starts his bruising pace. Fucking into you like it’ll be the last time. Your eyes widen, but he clamps a hand over your mouth. “You wanted this. You can take it.” He growls. Your eyes roll back and you fall apart. Throbbing around him as you reach your high. You’re clamping down around him tightly and he can barely keep himself together. Of all of the people you thought you might lost your virginity to, Ghost was never one of them.
He takes one last hard thrust, jawline clenching up as he grits his teeth. His eyes screw shut and you realize that’s he’s just finished inside of you. Your eyes widen as you feel his warmth filling you.
He relaxes himself into you.
“Fuck- m’sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking I just couldn’t stop myself.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You look up at him. You’re mesmerized by him.
He laughs, letting his head hang. “You can’t look at me like that. I won’t let you walk away.” He laughs.
You let your head rest against the floor. “You have to go with me.”
“I wouldn’t let you go down there alone. Not with that prick down there.” Simon growls. Sliding out of you. You gasp out as he does.
You redress yourselves, Simon letting you borrow one of his hoodies. A way to assert dominance, but you didn’t need to know that.
You make your way downstairs and he follows close behind. “What’s going on?” You ask.
“Mike wanted to apologize.”
Simon grips your hand in his. Pulling you closer. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry Y/N.” You swallow hard. Your mum and dad look guilty. “We have to apologize too. For not believing you.” Your dad speaks up. “I don’t forgive you. Not any of you.” You breathe. “We’re heading out first thing in the morning and I won’t be back until I’m ready to.”
You pull Simon along, out the front door.
“How about I show you around? Where I grew up.” He smiles. “Course.” He smiles. Following you down the drive of your parents’ house. “You’ll have to show me where you grew up sometime.” You smile. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to darling.” He laughs. “You’re a strong girl you know that?” He opens up the car door for you. “I don’t know.”
“M’serious. You’re brave and strong. They don’t deserve a girl like you.”
You smile.
“So what does that tell you?” You ask. He moves closer. “I don’t know.” His lips ghost over yours.
“Don’t fuck it up, Riley.”
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
Note
please something about pregnant capitol!reader. maybe she's pregnant and coriolanus is over OVER protective?
watchful eye |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested above, pregnant!captitol!reader and protective!coryo.
contains: reader is pregnant. alludes to dom/sub themes. some talk of violence. protective/possessive coriolanus. mainly fluff.
“Are you alright?” Coriolanus' eyes scanned the room, a predatory gaze that commanded the room. His hand found the small of your back, a soothing rub over the material of your dress, pressing into the spot on your spine that was always aching lately. 
“Yes.” You nodded, giving a forced smile in case others were watching. Your hand smoothed over the swell of your abdomen, prominent now. 
You were surprised Coriolanus let you out into the public now that you were showing. He’d been so careful with the news, so cautious that others might find out and want to harm you. You supposed that's why he’d commanded more Peacekeepers to the Districts, curfews and whippings and hanging multiplied to anyone even seen with a rebel- to drive them out, make an example of them, scare the others. All to keep you safe, or so he told you. 
With the next games coming up, you were at the annual party hosted before the Reaping tomorrow, full of Capitol socialites all fluttering with excitement at your news. Still, a haunting aura hung in the air, like they were all scared- perhaps it was because of the way Mrs. Bezel was drugged away to Dr. Gaul’s torment chamber for touching your rounded belly. Coriolanus hadn’t even batted an eye before the Peacekeepers were yanking the elderly woman away mercilessly, dragging her through the crowds of terror-ridden onlookers. 
“If you need to take a seat-” Coryo started, waving over an Avox with a sharp flick of his wrist. 
“-I’m alright, darling.” You hummed gently, placing a calming hand over his. 
“You need to rest.” Coriolanus’ eyes narrowed lightly, the same stern look he always gave you with your defiance, one that told you to obey. 
You hated the way it made you throb, you’d blame it on the hormones again. “I’m alright.” You smile sweetly. “I’m afraid if I sit, I’ll never get up again.” You tease lightly, a real, honest grin spreading across your face. It made Coryo’s heart skip. 
“Are you tired, then?” Coryo asked, hand pressing into your back again, fingers rubbing the knot gently there. Your spine had curved, figure caved to accommodate such growth- the habitat of your unborn child. 
“Only a little.” You admitted, looking down at your swollen stomach. “I can last, Coryo. I will be alright-” 
“-Nonsense.” Coryo shook his head, waving over the lead of his staff. “Make the announcement and ensure everyone leaves.” He commanded, his hand still on you. “And we will see you tomorrow for the Reaping.” A chilling tone to his words that had you shivering, taking his hand gently. 
“You didn’t need to do that.” You hummed, slipping out the side door with him, down the hallway towards your own private living quarters. Your heels clicking against the marble of the floor, half steps to keep up with Coriolanus’ own stride. “I would have been fine.” 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Coriolanus rolled his eyes lightly. “You looked miserable.” 
You frowned. “I did not.” 
He snorted lightly, looking over at you, lips curled in a half smile. “Petal, you were restless tonight. Don’t think I didn’t see you slip your shoes off under the table.” 
You pouted, a waddle of a walk beside him, still clutching his hand. “They hurt.” You huff, looking down at your heels, swollen ankles aching from the wear of the beastly things. 
“I know.” Coriolanus smirked triumphantly. “I told you to let me know if it got too much for you. I’d have you escorted back.” 
“I didn’t want to go back.” You huffed, a swing of emotions Coriolanus was still struggling with understanding. “You’ve kept me under lock and key for months, Coryo. I wanted to be out, see other people, and socialize.” 
Coryo nodded, choosing not to chastise you. Not now, not with how your tone clipped, a warning that the floodgates of your angry, hormonal tears were not far behind. Instead, he turned the key to your wing, pushing the grand doors open, a hand ushering you in. 
Inside, he helped you out of your dress, moved your heels back into place when you kicked them off. You giggled at how he tickled down your spine, unfastening the hooks of your dress, a soft kiss to your shoulder that had you swooning. 
You lay on the bed, feet in Coryo’s lap, his thumb digging into the heel of your foot, smug at the way it had you sighing with relief, melting into the mattress. He told you the plans for the games, how he and Gaul had worked even harder to make them better than last year, the changes and added sponsors. 
“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful, my love.” You muttered, eyes drooping with a heavy tug of your lids. He was lulling you to sleep, not that it was much of a challenge, you’d nearly exhausted yourself tonight. 
“Do you want me to draw you a bath?” Coriolanus asked, scanning your relaxed features. “Would that help with your back?” 
“No,” You shook your head, eyes fluttering open. “I’m fine.” 
Coryo frowned. “If your spine hurts, you should let me-” 
“-Coryo,” You cooed, eyes soft when they opened and met him. “I’m alright. I’m comfortable, just… just keep doing what you’re doing, please. It feels great.” You sighed, wiggling your foot back into his grasp, an accidental brush over his crotch that had him flushing. 
If you weren’t so tired, he would have fucked you into that mattress. You were so sensitive with the pregnancy, insatiable nearly. He hadn’t expected to be so attracted, that his desire grew with every new swell and rounding of your features, yet he found himself buried in your cunt every chance he could. 
Coryo had already taken you before the party, the glow in your features waved off as from the pregnancy instead of the way he’d ravished you before. He supposed that could have aided in some of the reasons you were so tired. 
“Tell me more about your plans.” You muttered, rolling your head into the pillow to look at him over the hill of your belly, your foot in his hand. “Who are the mentors for the Districts this year? Anyone we’d know?” 
Coriolanus’ heart swelled, boasting with pride. It was why he loved you so, the interest you showed him in his work, in his passions. His thumb circled around a knot in your heel, grinning at how you squirmed, answering your question sweetly.
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