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roosterforme · 10 months

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Playing From the Rough | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley agrees to play in a charitable golf tournament as long as you tag along. When he tells off a professional golfer for being rude and then beats him at his own game, Bradley braces himself for the consequences. But it's you the professional decides to take it out on. Guess he didn't get the memo: don't mess with the Bradshaws.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, mentions of smut, mentions of blood, non consensual touching

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Beautiful banner by @mak-32

"Come on, Rooster. We need a fourth golfer," Bob coaxed, handing Bradley another beer at the Hard Deck. "It's a foursome, not a threesome. And it's for charity."

Bradley sipped the drink and thought about how he'd have to spend a whole weekend day away from you, and he really just wasn't feeling it. The two of you were enjoying that newlywed bubble you'd been living in. Recently, Saturdays had been reserved for sleeping in late, walking the dog, and fucking.

"Wow, I guess Bradshaw just hates charitable events for children's hospitals," Jake drawled, sipping on his glass of bourbon. "Come on. Be a sport. Payback and Fanboy are deployed. We need one more to make a team."

Bradley sighed. "Let me check with my wife."

"Bring her," Coyote said, lining up a shot at the pool table. "We get two extra tickets. She can drive a golf cart and drink beers all day if she wants."

Bradley cocked his head to the side before he turned to look at you and Nat taking shots up at the bar. "Who else would come?" he asked the guys. "With the other extra ticket?"

But Coyote had followed his gaze. "Give it to Nat. They'd have fun."

"They can be our cheerleaders," Jake said with a smirk.

Bradley snorted. "Don't hold your breath. I think drinking, heckling, and hitting us with the golf carts would be more their speed."

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

"Roo."

Bradley woke up to you pushing your fingers back through his hair, and he groaned. It was just before six in the morning, and you were rubbing yourself against his leg and kissing his neck. He realized he had an erection before he could even remember what day it was, and then he groaned louder.

You and he had to be at the gold course for the charitable fundraiser in about an hour. Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist. "We need to get up, Baby Girl."

"No," you whispered. "You need to fuck me. I'm so horny."

"Shit," he sighed, glancing at the time on his phone. "We can't. We'll be late."

"Roo!" you whined, thoroughly unaccustomed to being told no when it came to anything, but especially when it was something you wanted in bed. Bradley was weak for you in that way.

"I'll make it up to you later, after I'm all sweaty and you've had even more time to get wound up," he promised, squeezing your ass.

You moaned softly next to his ear. "You better. I want it twice."

"Three times," he replied with a smirk as he got out of bed. He watched you get dressed in a little tropical print pleated skirt and a sleeveless white golf shirt. And nothing else. "Are you planning on wearing any underwear?" he asked, following you into the bathroom.

"No," you told him casually, bending over at the sink to wash your face. He could see your bare pussy. You were doing this intentionally to mess with him. This is what he got for telling you no sex. "Fuck."

When he came up behind you, clearly having a change of heart, you stepped away from him and said, "We don't want to be late." He watched you walk back into the bedroom with your chin in the air. Oh, he'd get you good later.

Once you were holding two travel mugs of coffee and Bradley had his golf bag, he followed you out to the Bronco. He tossed his clubs in the back and then buckled your seatbelt. He let his palm rest on your thigh as he leaned in to kiss you.

"You're going to look so pretty sitting in the golf cart and cheering for me," he said, trying not to laugh.

"If anything, you're my trophy husband," you replied with a laugh as you kissed his scarred cheek.

"I love you," he promised before closing the passenger door and heading out.

The weather was perfect, the sky was blue, and when you and Bradley arrived at the golf course, the others were already there. The four of them were wearing matching golf shirts emblazoned with Top Gun on the back along with white pants. Bradley wasn't the best golfer by any stretch of the imagination. He usually just tagged along because it was fun, and today was no different. They were raising money for a local children's hospital, and some of the kids were present.

Bradley smiled at the children who were waving to them after they got checked in. "They'd probably love some pictures with you guys," you whispered, running your hand up Bradley's bicep.

"Nah," Bradley replied. "There are some TV stars and musicians here. I don't think they care about us."

But you pushed him and Jake toward the kids, and their little faces lit up. Soon Bob was handing out some pins with wings that said Top Gun, and you took pictures while the kids asked questions about aviation.

Bradley ended up sitting with a little girl named Abigail who asked him a million questions about his Super Hornet, but he didn't mind. He loved kids. But it was almost time to get started, so he stood and gave her a high five. And he posed for one more photo that you took before he headed to one of the golf carts.

"That was sweet of you to pose for pictures with the kids," you told him as you slipped into the driver's seat.

"It was sweet of you to take all the photos," he replied, sitting next to you and kissing your cheek.

"Ready?" Coyote asked, taking a seat in the back. Bradley watched Nat tear off in the other cart with Bob and Jake barely hanging on. You followed them to the first tee at a much slower pace, and Bradley was happy to see that there were more kids among the spectators.

He played the first few holes pretty well. Surprisingly, he was keeping up with Javy and Jake. You and Nat were half watching and half laughing with some drinks in your hands, but Bradley just wanted you to have a good time.

And you were definitely making sure he was having a good time. Whenever he met your gaze, you ran your fingers up your bare thigh or licked your lips. He was probably playing so well because he knew what was in store for him later. Probably a blowjob to start, but you'd definitely let him finish in your pussy. When he checked the time on his phone, he saw a text from you.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm really horny.

He groaned. You were hot for him and texting him from twenty feet away. He texted you back before tucking his phone away so he could tee off.

Behave, or I'll spank you.

Bradley thought he could hear you moan from the golf cart. But that sweet sound was soon drowned out by someone else.

"Jesus Christ. I told him to fuck off! He doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. And his golf swing looks like a piece of shit, too."

It was a guy about his age, swearing up a storm in front of all the kids. Bradley clenched and unclenched his fist in his glove. Sure, he could appreciate the subtle art of the f-word, but not in front of families with kids representing the charity! There was a time and a place. Like bullshitting at the bar or whispering dirty stuff in your wife's ear.

"Rooster, you're up," Javy called, and Bradley rolled his shoulders and walked away.

But this prick was still running his mouth at the next hole. Bradley didn't know how he got unlucky enough to have to play next to this idiot, but he couldn't take much more. And when he looked up and saw Abigail and her parents, he decided that was enough.

"Hey man, do you mind?" Bradley asked him, and then he was met with cold, gray eyes.

"I'm sorry, but who the fuck are you?" the prick responded, sizing Bradley up.

"Someone who's sick of listening to your mouth," Bradley replied without hesitation. This guy was handsome and smug, and Bradley couldn't stand him. "This is an event for children. There are kids everywhere. Cut it out with the foul language."

Bradley turned and walked back toward the golf cart where you were laughing with Nat when Jake jogged up next to him. "Dude, what did you just say to Hunter King?"

"Who?"

"You were just talking to Hunter King. He's a super famous pro golfer!"

Bradley turned back to see that he was still being glared at. "I told him to shut his mouth and stop swearing in front of all the kids," he told Jake.

"But that's Hunter King," Jake insisted with wide eyes.

Bradley shrugged and said, "I don't care who he is. He's being rude." Then he took a quick sip of the beer you were holding before handing it back to you with a kiss to your forehead.

"Ready to go to the next hole?" you asked, brushing the hem of your skirt a little higher.

"I'm ready to take you home," Bradley replied, squeezing your perfect thigh.

"Gross," Nat complained, climbing out of the cart and heading to the other one. You and she drove the four of them to the next hole, and Bradley saw that Hunter King was right there as well.

"Go get a hole in one, Roo," you told him, rubbing high up on his thigh and brushing his cock.

"Baby Girl, I'm gonna teach you a lesson later."

"Ohh," you crooned. "Will you teach me how to hold your club?"

"If you're good," he replied, climbing out of the cart with a shake of his head. Bradley watched Hunter King play par on the hole, and then it was his turn. Bradley drove the ball with a nearly perfect swing, and the ball landed on the green.

You and Nat were both cheering for him, and the kids in the area all looked delighted as well. Nat drove Bradley over to the green to putt while you waited with Bob and Jake. And to Bradley's surprise, he came in at one stroke under par for the hole. He just did better than a professional golfer. And now Hunter King looked even more pissed off.

"Good," Bradley muttered to himself, bending to get his ball out of the hole. "That's what you get."

And then Bradley beat him on the next hole. And the one after that.

"Wow, Rooster," Nat said, rubbing his shoulder. "I had no idea you'd be this good. Jake tells everyone how terrible you are."

Bradley rolled his eyes as you walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist. "You're doing better than Javy, Bob and Jake," you informed him, clearly impressed.

"It doesn't matter," he replied. "It's just for charity." But he was still shocked when he finished in third place overall. Hunter King finished in fourth.

Bradley went over to congratulate the first and second place finishers, but he was cut off by Hunter. "Good game," Bradley managed through clenched teeth, holding out his hand. But the other man didn't shake it. Instead he smiled in such a way that made Bradley feel very uneasy.

"Are you married?" Hunter asked him.

Bradley's brow scrunched up. "Yeah," he replied.

"Which one's your wife?" Hunter was nodding to where you and Nat were standing in the sunlight. You looked beautiful, the golden glow illuminating your skin as you shifted weight from one foot to the other. With one hand planted on your hip you tossed your head back and laughed. You were his wife. His perfect wife.

"You know what?" Hunter replied. "It doesn't matter. I'll take real good care of both of them."

"What?" Bradley asked, but as soon as Hunter headed your way, someone was trying to pull him aside for a photo with the other winners. When he turned back, all he saw was you and Nat being led away with Hunter's hand on your lower back.

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

"Ladies."

You looked up into a pair of soft, gray eyes and were met with a brilliant smile. "My name's Hunter, and I'd love to take you on a tour of the VIP tent."

"Sounds swanky," Nat replied, smiling at him.

"Oh. It is. I promise," he said with another charming smile. "Let's go."

You looked back to see that Bradley was absorbed with a photography crew and some of the kids associated with the charity. You tried to wave to get his attention, but you supposed it didn't really matter. You wouldn't be gone long enough to even need to grab you phone from the golf cart.

Then Hunter's hand came to rest just above the swell of your butt, and you thought your eyes were going to bug out. As he nodded at the security guard watching the entrance to the VIP tent, you slipped out of his grasp.

"Welcome, Mr. King," the guard said with a smirk. "Two guests with you?"

"That's right," he replied with a laugh. He was annoying, but the inside of the tent was incredible. It looked more like a small arena inside. There were people checking out golf simulators and waiters walking around with drinks. You watched Hunter grab two bottles of champagne from a large ice bucket.

"This way, ladies," he said, and you took Nat by the hand before she could wander over to the simulators. Hunter looked at your joined hands as you both followed him, and he muttered, "That works for me, too."

You pulled Nat a little closer as the three of you ended up in a secluded area. After he popped the first bottle of champagne, he handed it to Nat. "A whole bottle?" she asked. "Thanks, Hunter."

Then he popped the second one and gave it to you. "Drink up."

His fingers lingered on yours as you said, "I love pink champagne. My husband buys it for me all the time."

Hunter's eyes appraised you, lingering on your lips and chest. You were suddenly very aware of your lack of underwear and peaked nipples. "Oh, you're married?" he asked casually. "Was he the one who finished in the top three?"

"Yes! He placed third," you told him before taking a sip of the expensive champagne. It was delicious, and Nat had already finished half of her bottle. You kind of wanted to share your bottle with Bradley, but you also kind of wanted to ditch it and leave.

"You like to play golf?" Hunter asked, completely focused on you now.

You shrugged. "I haven't played much. I usually just hang out in the golf cart when I go."

"Your husband won't let you play?"

You rolled your eyes. "I can assure you that I do whatever I want."

"I love to hear that," he laughed with a smile. "And I think you want to try out one of the simulators."

You noticed that Nat had already wandered away to one of the booths. "Just for a minute," you agreed.

Then you listened to him explain how the simulator worked. It was a small booth, and you would wear a virtual reality mask. It looked just like you were really on a golf course.

"Let me close the door for you," Hunter murmured next to your ear. "So you can get started."

He closed the booth, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was still in there with you. Because when you bent a little at the waist, you bumped into him with your butt.

"You need a little help with your posture?" he asked, wrapping his hands around your hips from behind. In an instant, you knew you were rubbing against the zipper of his pants, and his left hand was skimming over your skirt right where your little rooster tattoo was covered by the thin fabric.

You gasped when his hands slid a little lower. You had no underwear on, because your main goal of the day had been to tease Bradley. But now Hunter was the one almost touching your bare skin.

"What the hell?" you shouted in the small space, whipping off the mask covering your eyes and spinning around. "What the hell is your problem?" You watched his face as you pulled your right hand back. He looked alarmed, eyes wide and hands held up in surrender as your palm made contact with his face.

"Ow! Fuck!" he screamed. Somehow you managed to slap his cheek and also hit his nose with the heel of your hand at the same time. It started gushing blood onto his pale blue shirt, and he tried to pinch the bridge of his nose to get it to slow down.

"I'm married, and you're creepy!" you informed him loudly, shoving past him to get out of the simulation booth. "Come on, Nat," you called, taking her hand again.

"Why are we leaving? I didn't finish my champagne!" she complained. So when you walked back past the ice bucket, you gabbed a new bottle for her and a second one for yourself.

"Hunter is a creep," you informed her as you made your way to the tent exit. But Hunter was hot on your heels and reaching out for you.

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

Bradley saw you go inside the VIP area, but he got pulled aside for some group photos. He knew the kids, including Abigail, were waiting for more photos as well, but he quickly excused himself to head after you.

"That son of a bitch," he muttered to himself as he approached the security guard. Hunter King was mad that he told him to shut his mouth, and beating a professional at his own game really hadn't helped Bradley's cause. And he just knew Hunter was going to try to take it out on you and Nat.

He started sweating. You were all horny and wound up, and you had skipped underwear to mess with him. And now the guy who was pissed off at Bradley was probably inside pawing at you. And you weren't answering your phone.

"Whoa, hang on," the guard said, sliding into place in front of the entrance just as Bradley got there. "This area is off limits for you."

Bradley grunted. "My wife is in there."

"Good for her," he replied with a shrug of his enormous shoulders.

"You don't understand. She's with Hunter King."

The guard had the audacity to smirk at him. "One of those two attractive women? I'm sure she's having a great time with Mr. King."

What was that supposed to mean? Bradley had to close his eyes and silently count to ten. "I just need to pop in there, and then I'll be right back out."

"Absolutely not."

Bradley ground his molars together before he managed a very insincere sounding, "Please?"

Then the security guard laughed at him, and Bradley contemplated trying to shove this guy out of his way. He had about a hundred pounds and four inches on Bradley, but it would be worth the pounding to make sure you and Nat were okay. Just as he was working himself up to do it, he caught sight of you heading his way, dragging Nat along. You emerged from the tent looking unscathed.

"Hi, Roo," you said sweetly, gripping a bottle of pink champagne for some reason. You wrapped your arms around him, the cold condensation from the bottle pressing to the back of his neck.

"What's going on, Baby Girl?" he asked, still completely bewildered as you kissed him. "Where's Hunter King?" He was pulling you a little closer, waiting for some sort of explanation.

But Nat started laughing. "You don't need to worry about your wife. Cheers," she said, holding up a second bottle of champagne before popping the cork.

You whispered, "I love you," against Bradley's lips just as he saw Hunter come storming to the tent entrance with blood all over his shirt.

Bradley took your face in his hands. "What happened? Why is he covered in blood? Did he try to hurt you? Or Nat? This is all my fault for telling him to stop swearing and then beating his score." Bradley could feel his pulse quicken, feel his brow crease in concern, but you were smiling.

"He's a creep. I told him I was married, and he still tried to touch me, but I'm pretty sure I broke his nose."

Bradley shoved you gently away from him, ready to beat the ever living shit out of both the security guard and Hunter King. He watched Hunter's eye grow wide as he clenched both hands into fists, but then you were in front of him again.

"Roo! It's okay!" you promised, pressing the champagne bottle to his chest and pushing him back.

"It is not okay," he growled, letting you push him a little further away from the tent. "I'll rip him in half."

"Roo! Right before I saw you, he tried to grab me again. I told him I'd call the cops if he didn't match the donation that was being made to the children's hospital."

"Match the donation? That's like four hundred thousand dollars," he replied, looking at you with surprise. "You just got Hunter King to make a personal donation of four hundred thousand dollars?"

"Yep!" you replied, pressing yourself to the front of him. "I sure did. And I got him to say it in front of one of the charity's coordinators. I also insinuated to that coordinator that perhaps Mr. King shouldn't be allowed to spend any time alone with women in the VIP tents in the future. And that maybe he should be removed from the circuit. Now let's go home, pop this delicious bottle of pink champagne, and celebrate your third place victory!"

Bradley was still gaping at you before he scooped you up into his arms. He was careful to keep your butt covered with one big hand as you kissed his face while he glared past you at Hunter King until the other man slinked back into the shadows where he belonged.

"You're such a badass," he told you suddenly. "I'm so impressed by you all the time, Sweetheart. You don't even need me."

"No, I don't," you agreed with him, kissing his cheek and trailing your lips back to his ear. "But I really, really want you."

"Let's go home," he grunted, carrying you to one of the golf carts. "I just want my bed, my wife, and the expensive champagne she stole from the VIP tent."

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Don't mess with the Bradshaws! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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oh, to be alone with you

Joel Miller x OC!Reader [8.9k] SUMMARY: Never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all. His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance. Now... this seemed like a third. Joel saw the feelings in your eyes, and he took a chance, hoping to be choosing right for everybody this time.

— A/n 📝This was a commission made by the lovely and (very patient) Grace, and I hope they enjoy the most out of everyone ;) Reblogs and comments make all the difference. — Warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors DNI. | 🏷️ age gap, slow burn, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, mutual pining, resolved sexual tension, insecure!Joel, protective!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talking, soft!Dom!Joel, praising, edging, cum play, uhm. filth? lol. you're welcome.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

In the three years he knew you, Joel never heard you sound like this.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him. Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him. Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The first thing was set in stone. The second, on the other hand, he could try to change.

He meets her in Jacksonville, after fucking everything up with Ellie.

They had just arrived, both of them. Drenched in regret, numerous traumatizing events all muddled together, as that thick air of uncertainty surrounded their relationship. Joel thanked his brother and Maria for welcoming them back. Ellie spoke so little the first day that even Maria, someone who barely knew her, tried prying information out of her.

But it'd been quickly forgotten. One moment, Ellie and Joel were in a nameless hospital surrounded by fireflies, and a month later, they were settled into a nice house in the commune.

As if nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

And there, in Jacksonville, there's you.

One of the only two doctors in town, the other being your very own old man.

All he remembered from the day he met you was your smile. Those beautiful cheeks painted cherry red, the wrinkles in the corner of your eyes, and how round and big they seemed to him as you said, "Hi. It's nice to meet you, Joel. 'm Grace."

You were. Joel had said something back. Ran away from there as soon as he could, but he played that smile every hour for the next three days before he caved in and came back to see you again.

Little did Joel know how much of a grace you'd become.

You were the only person who knew about Ellie.

Being the one who tattooed her on the second week after she arrived, Joel and Ellie decided together that at least one of the only two doctors should know about her condition, and so she told you.

Whatever Joel had expected from you, your reaction was as further from it as it could be. Nonchalance, and a sad grin. A placating nod as you told him, "you can wait here, I'll examine Ellie thoroughly and then we'll get started on the tattoo; I'll call you inside then, 'kay?"

All the compliments you offered towards the design — something Ellie drew herself — made you rise in her list of favorite people, speedily.

There was also openness. Ellie looked at you as you poked the needles in her skin with calculating eyes and Joel saw in them — if eyes could touch, she'd be reaching out for you. Hands spread open and fingers clutching around nothing. Ellie wanted to trust.

It was only a few more weeks before she confided in you and then walked up to her and Joel's place to confront him.

Demanding the truth.

The truth she knew he'd kept from her since she woke up in the car, probably.

"There was no cure."

Ellie stopped trusting him.

Joel died a little bit on the inside, but... she's alive.

He'd do it all over again.

You found him sitting on the edge of the lake with a guitar on his feet and his body frozen with dread, thinking about how hard Ellie had cried.

When you asked him, "Can I sit?", Joel thought it'd be another one of those times when you two sat close to one another in perfect silence. It happened a few times during movie nights or shared dinners in the commune's barn. Joel soaked up your presence, but that time, you had more. "You know... if one day you ever wanna hear my thoughts, professional thoughts on this whole 'cure' matter, I'd be happy to share them."

Joel had looked up at you, even though that hurt. So beautiful. "'m not sure I ever wanna think about it too hard."

You nodded. Scooted a little closer to him. "That's alright too. I just wanted to — put it out there. So you know I have thoughts about it. I told her that, too, but she gave me kinda the same reply."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, Joel. She did." No one did a sad grin quite like you. The way it reached through your eyes and touched him. "You two are so... similar."

"But we ain't." Joel knew they were different. He knew what Ellie would've chosen. "I think... I wished too hard we were."

The laughter was unexpected. "Joel."

"Yeah?"

"You do realize I know what you did, right?"

If a pin dropped a thousand miles away, at that moment, Joel would hear. With a deaf right ear or not, he would. I know what you did. Was that possible? How would you know and still have been this kind to him these weeks? Still have chosen to sit by his side, to make Tommy bug him about getting his check-ups, to be sitting next to him?

You nodded at his gawking eyes and jaw-slacked mouth. "Yeah. I'm quite good at putting two and two together."

"I... Grace — what I did—" he saw flashes of it. The white noise still echoed in him. "There's no way to know that and still be able to look me in the eye. It's why she hates me now. I — I was selfish. I took away her purpose just because I'm an old fucker who didn't wanna—"

"I would've done the same." It stopped him. The words clamped his mouth shut. "I don't have any children, but I love the only parent I have, and I would've done the same for him. He would do the exact same thing for me. Don't think he wouldn't. I know he looks like the sweetest old man ever, but he'd rip apart an entire hospital to get to me too. Go ask him if you don't believe me — but believe this: If I had a child, I wouldn't let them make this 'grand sacrifice', not even if I thought it'd work. Which is not the case here."

Joel had nothing to say to all of that.

He swallowed the knot tying his vocal cords together and looked ahead, trying to process the perspective from which you saw the situation.

Sitting in silence with you brought him peace, and that day, it deterred him from the plan that was coming together — the seed of maybe if you poisoned yourself slowly over the years you could finish the job this time.

Joel asked for your father's location in the commune, then walked with you when the sun set to eat dinner.

Ellie still hated him, and she probably would continue to for a long time, but Joel no longer felt like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean with no end in sight for his fall.

I would've done the same. The words pulled him back. Made him see blue once more.

Validation saved his life. Your approval became a pillar.

He'd continue to seek it for the next years to come.

The Earth finished a whole new cycle around the Sun, and Joel started to build a life again in the meantime.

He worked patrols and went back to carpentry.

He befriended your father, who loved calling him to have dinner or smoke a pipe with him on his porch. Your father was a sweet-looking man who hid very crazy, funny, and dark bits inside of him.

"I see where she gets it from," Joel commented.

It pulled boisterous laughter from him. "Yeah, she's a feisty one."

Joel snorted. It came out in smokes. "Feisty? Ellie's feisty. I was on patrol last month when the raiders tried transpassing. I've seen your daughter use a scalpel in ways I still have fuckin' nightmares about."

More laughter was followed by, "I taught her well."

"You sure fuckin' did." Joel laughed too. Not because it was funny, but because the memory kind of terrified him. Thrilled him. He shook his head and gave the pipe back. "Was she always like that?"

"Was Ellie always like this?"

Joel chuckled. "Fair enough." Even though Ellie was now a teenager, and Joel had only known her for two years, he answered. "I think she has, yeah. A lil' badass. A lil' feisty and weird. And funny."

"God — she is funny."

"I didn't think so at first."

"She needed to work on her delivery," your father laughed like there was no tomorrow. No apocalypse. "I like seeing her and Grace together. I think she's waking up that motherly desire in her, ya know? I always wanted to see her be a mom before I give my big adios."

"If she hears ya she's gonna smack you again."

"Eh! She's always hitting folks. Her violent little heart can't stop anyone from reaching the pearly gates."

"Morice, I've heard enough stories to know you ain't seeing any pearls."

There had been silence, and then unstoppable, loud laughter from both of them.

It was the memory Joel thought about the most after he passed away.

When you came to his house with a whiskey bottle in hand and the angriest look Joel had ever seen on your stunning features, he knew without a word being said.

He sat with you in silence as you had done for him so many other times. You cried, chopped wood until your clothes were soaked in sweat, and drank with Joel until the bottle was empty.

It had been the first time you asked for something more.

When you caved into the tears late at night, Joel saw you pacing from left to right and had no clue what to do, what to offer, but you spared him of choosing. "Can I — can you hug me?"

He complied in the same second.

The request was quieter than the wind, but he could pick out your voice from a crowd.

Joel wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

That opened up new doors — pearly gates. A year of small touches on the forearm and close proximity at every given opportunity made Joel aware of how much he craved your presence. Those little flames were nothing compared to this—a hug, and Joel's mind and body were a forest on fire.

You clung to him, rubbed your face on his chest, and refused to let go. You accepted every caress in your hair, and almost fell asleep on his shoulder.

After the hug, any excuse was a good one.

You touched him every time you saw him — even if just a little nudge on the shoulder or a finger brushing the back of his hand.

Joel started leaving tobacco and herbs on top of Morice's resting place, and continued their conversations even if he never heard the replies.

"I'll take care of 'er. Be by her side, y'know? I know she doesn't need it, but... You and her were the reason I found some happiness in here, so... It's only fair."

Somewhere along the way, you'd convinced Joel to play on Tommy's barbecues which happened every month for some of his friends.

Music connected weird parts of him together.

The strings of his guitar were one of the only guarantees he had of making Ellie smile, for starters. When she asked for the lessons a while after stopping all communication with Joel, he had simply nodded a meek, "Yeah," too stunned to add anything else; too grateful to even dare think about it.

Your request came the very first time Joel attended one of the famous Millers Sunday, and it was the reason why Joel went from feeling like a stranger in a strange town to himself again.

Tommy clapped him on the back. You, and your smile from across the yard with the fireplace burning in between, and Joel felt almost like a person.

So he sang. Played the strings even if his joints ached around the edges, played until they no longer did and his body grew used to the motions again, played every month to come just to see the smile creep on your face and you mouthing along the lines of the songs you knew.

One day, he asked why didn't you join Ellie's lessons.

"She's gettin' real good at it." He was proud of it. Joel almost preened talking of it, matter-of-factly, missing the way your eyes softened. "You like music. You like it and miss it, which not many people do. I don't even know why I ain't never thought of it — 'm sorry about that, darlin'. Were you ever interested? In learning?"

With his eyes back on you, Joel swallowed a little thickly at how gentle your smile looked. "Joel — have you ever seen me on The Porch's dance floor? Do I look like I have any rhythm?"

"Sure you do."

Your laughter. "No, I don't!" You slapped his arm, hiding your laughter in your arms afterward, and Joel was used to it. Being hit, being poked, being used as a pillow. "Stop lying to me."

"I ain't lyin'." He was. It made him smile to see you laugh that hard.

"You're full of shit, that's what you are."

"Is that your medical diagnosis?"

The giggles that were subduing came back, and Joel knew the second glass of wine had caught up to your head. "You've been spending too much time with Miss Williams."

That made him laugh. Joel did so with his head thrown back because not even three days ago he had a screaming 16-year-old screaming at him about 'manipulation of the goddamn perspective' and if that wasn't your lingo through and through. "That's rich! Oh, that's rich as fuck comin' from you."

"How so?!"

"I reckon Ellie Missy Williams's been doin' just fine with your tutoring. Don't think I've missed you and her gigglin' in the room every now and then."

You roll your eyes, smiling so wide that your tinted cheeks look carved into stone. "Fine. I'm a terrible influence. Her attitude got nothing to do with her grumpy ass 'father-figure' who taught her how to be a goddamn menace to society."

"I can hear the air quotes even when you don't them with your finger, darlin'," Joel accused, trying to suppress his smile and school his face into a threatening, menacing look.

He's hit with the memory of when you first mocked him for it.

"Don't call me her father. I ain't her father."

"Good fucking gods, you two are so difficult! Fine. As her "father figure", you need to say something. Is that better, Joel? Did the semantics change help you?"

Now, you have the same side smirk.

"You didn't say I was wrong." Your voice dropped to a whisper.

It pulled his body closer. Like gravity was in your sound waves. "I didn't."

You rested your chin on your hand. "So... we're both a bad influence."

"Seems that way," he found himself whispering too. Joel kept his eyes on your cheeks. On your lashes and your eyes, even if they pierced through him.

"Considering she's in perfect health, handles herself just fine, and is trying her best to keep the good people of this town safe... I think that's not a bad job. The whole picture, y'know?"

Joel nods and his lips tug in a smile — not because of your sweet spoken words, but because it's funny to see it. Your mind switching to seriousness so fast.

"I do love music, though," you pout, looking up at him. He recalls how the bickering started this time around, and chuckles at your late confession. "I like watching you guys better than any idea of me playing. Or singing." With a full-body shudder, you add. "That is not where my talents lie."

"Could be," he insisted, just for the sake of that—

—your smile. "Not even you have that patience, Miller."

Miller. He had to look away every time you spoke it that way. "You're right. The brat burned away the last savings I had of that."

He heard you chuckling, and then he felt it. The nuzzling of your nose on his shoulder. "Nah. You were trying to sweet talk her just last week."

"She needs a new horse," he argued with thin air over the memory you bring up. He also scoots closer to the couch so you can rest your head on him when you're done with your cat-like behavior and end up with your whole face pressed on his shoulders, your breath tingling his neck. "And you could help me with convincing her, couldn't ya?"

"I'm not gonna meddle in your Miller-Williams business," you scoffed as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

As if these two years and a half hadn't been about you and him and her and everything orbiting around that.

Joel scoffed back. "Darlin', if you think you ain't mingled in our business, I'm gonna have to be the bearer of bad news here..."

"More tangled."

"It's just a horse, Grace."

"She lost her first pet, a horse, in a traumatic even, Joel."

Fuck him, he loved doing this with you. He sipped the last remnants of alcohol from his glass hoping it'd dull the smell of your hair invading his senses. Or maybe he liked when it amplified it. Who knew. Who gave a fuck. "Fine."

"Fine."

"She can keep usin' the stables' horses every time we gotta go out." Joel was never above playing dirty. Certainly not with you. "The ones Rick tames. The ones that sense how volatile, strong, angry she can be..."

The way you tensed was twice more obvious with your whole body pressed on his side. "God, I fucking hate you sometimes."

Joel laughed at the empty curse. "'m just sayin'."

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?"

"You do and it's annoying and fine." You sighed deeply. "I'll get into yet another awkward, intense conversation with the volatile teenager about the importance of facing traumas. It'll go great."

"Better you who knows what the fuck you're talkin' about than me."

"She just stopped giving me the cold shoulder." It's a whine. You're whining at Joel about his daughter who still lives in a constant fluctuation between loveshatesloveshates with him was giving you the cold shoulder.

"It takes her two weeks to get over her lil' fights with you."

"Hmm." It was nice when you gave in. There were few times Joel could get through your stubbornness — something you and Ellie had engraved in your souls — and it felt like a win every time. "I'll talk to her."

Joel's hand moved on its own accord. From his lap to your hair, resting slowly on your head.

He squeezed a few times, and felt you nudging towards the touch. Leaning into it.

"Thanks, darlin'."

There was a heartbeat before you answered.

"'Course, Joel."

While the looks were easy to ignore, the whispers were not.

Words carried by the wind clung to his skin like the very smell of sweat after some years of running non-stop.

They spoke about him.

About Ellie.

You.

All three, mushed together, sometimes all in one go, sometimes two by two, but always you three.

Joel knew what they thought of him and you — of your time spent together.

They thought of him as inappropriate. You had always been the 'dark sheep' of the commune. The reason why people sometimes still remembered how grim and ugly it was out there. They spoke of you as ruthless, frowned upon your methods, but Joel smell their bullshit and saw beyond their condescension.

It was easy to speak with their bellies full.

With their houses safe. God, it boiled his blood to even think about it — these people sometimes slept with their doors opened because the security around the wooden gates was so great and efficient, but failed to remember or willingly forgot that all triage was created by your now deceased father and you.

It was your 'ruthless methods' that kept the creeps away.

Who screened people who seemed otherwise harmless but sought to do sordid, unspeakable things inside safe havens they'd have no problem burning to the ground.

Sure, he'd cleaned his way through a hospital to stop the murder of one single child, but at least Joel had a head on his shoulders.

Some people out there lacked even that.

As much as he wished for judgment to come only from the strangers he grew to know as neighbors and comrades — something you, personally, loved teasing him and Tommy of being — but of close people.

Maria, he could handle it. It was when Tommy spoke up that it stung.

"Don't you think it's... weird? Hangin' out with her so much? I mean—I heard from Dieter that he wanted to ask her out, but somehow when he goes to ask she's always talkin' to you." Tommy looked like he meant well with it. Those eyes never lied to him, and Joel saw the concern there. "I just don't want you to feel left out or abandoned in case she does start seein' someone, that's all."

That's all.

As if he hadn't opened a dent in Joel's mind.

A 'in case she does start seein' someone' sized dent.

It was the only time Joel gave a damn about words being spoken of him—or to him, he should say, considering it was meant as advice.

It was the first and last time.

In three years Joel never thought of you or anything he felt as inappropriate. Maybe he even should.

There were certainly dreams.

Desire was there, too. Alive and burning. Tall and solid, with the fires high enough for it to be a volcano.

But he swallowed it down.

He knew you were not for him.

He knew you were too bright. Knew he had nothing to offer but his company, some music every now and then, and everything inside of him, if you asked.

Still—he never did anything.

Even in the times when it felt like the bickering and teasing might be called flirting. In the times when you bit your lip after staring at him a heartbeat or two too long, or when you made his chest, shoulders, his neck your personal comforter, making yourself at home.

He bit his tongue during those times.

Told himself there was such a thing as projecting, and that just because you knew him, knew all of him, it didn't mean your kindness and acceptance equaled all that he felt for you.

All of the fuckin' ocean of things he so painfully, obviously felt for you.

Listening to Tommy worked until it didn't.

Until you showed up at his doorstep late at night, pissed off and fuming.

"Where the fuck were you?" Without even waiting for a reply, you stepped inside the house, pushing past him. "And speaking of being places, where have you been? 'Cause blowing me off only works the first four or five times. I know where you live, and in case it wasn't crystal clear to you, I know when you're lying to me."

So you pretended to believe his shitty lies. Joel closed the door with a sigh and wondered if Ellie was already listening from upstairs.

He imagined telling you to lower your voice was a certain ticket to meeting your father earlier than his due time.

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't answer where you've been." Your arms crossed over your chest. "Y'know, it's called Miller Sunday and ever since you moved here, that means two for one. Tell me why I endured Maria's friends the whole fucking night, hm?"

"Uh — 'cause they like you?"

"Joel."

"I know, I know." He chuckled under his breath, raising both hands up in surrender. "My bad." He nodded towards the kitchen trying to work out how to knit an excuse on the spot, and then remembered—I know when you're lying to me. "I've been... stuck in my head."

There was a pause. "Oh. Ew." That made him laugh again. "Well, alright. That happens sometimes. Care to share why you're acting as if isolation's gonna help with that?"

"Damn, I don't know, woman. 'Cause I'm old and stupid? 'Cause I listen to Tommy every now and then even though that's a shitty idea sometimes?"

"Don't call yourself stupid in my presence, it's fucking offensive." The damn heat behind your words almost made him work up a sweat. "What does Tommy have to do with this?"

"Nothin'." Joel hid his face while opening the fridge, but he knew your silence well. He picked up the water jug, and placed it on the counter behind him.

"Miller, look at me."

Goddamn it.

He turned around slowly.

You were looking right through him. Searching all over his face for something you found within two seconds.

Then, you stepped closer until you were only a few inches away, looking up at him with enough certainty in your gaze to make him feel smaller despite the inches he had on you.

"I know damn well who I wanna spend my fucking time with." It was like a caress to the face. Joel felt it like your fingertips, which had traced the lines in his eyes and face until he fell asleep a few times by now. "Never insult me again by thinking you, or Tommy, or anyone for that matter can know that better than me."

An adult. Who knows who she is. Who's walked her path.

It went unsaid.

Joel nodded along since there was nothing to do but agree.

"If you don't wanna spend time with me for you own reasons, then... so be it. Tell me about them, or don't, but—never do this again. Your brother's known me for a little longer than you, but he doesn't know me as well as you do. I expected this from Tommy."

But not from him.

"It ain't gonna happen again." Joel said it and you both could hear how he meant it.

Slowly, a smile crept on your face. "Good."

"You're smiling?" he asked, dumbfounded.

The smile widened. "I'm... a little happy right now."

"Because... I ain't gonna be a stu—sorry, a silly little old man any more?"

There was a giggle you tried suppressing and failed at. "No."

"'Cause you're gonna use this against me for the next fortnight to get me to do whatever you want even though I'm nearly a sixty-year-old man?"

A roll of your eyes put a smile on his face as well. "You're more in shape at sixty than a lot of our twenty-year-olds here and that act doesn't work with me, darling. No—I'm happy 'cause I'm surprised. It works on you too."

"What works on me?"

"My mean glance." The answer took him by surprise, and yet, all you seemed was even more gleeful at his wide-eyed expression. "Didn't know I could scare Joel Miller."

"You're gigglin' 'cause you just found out I'm scared of ya?"

"Exactly."

"Darlin' I thought you saw me as a smart one. Who in their right mind ain't scared of you?"

"Damn right." You slapped his shoulder, and it seemed to ease some of the tension he carried these days he tried creating distance between you both. "Now — since we established the rights and wrongs. You wanna hear all the gossip about today?"

Joel had picked up the jug of water, but he could switch to the cans of beer.

"Lay it on me."

The thing is — never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all.

Who was he to be one of the few lucky bastards who got one at the end of everything? What had he done to ever dare dream he deserved it?

Peace, a good life, building things again... that was reserved for the good ones.

Joel was not one of the good ones.

His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance.

All the things he did in between those instances counted for a whole lot.

It's why he ignored it until he couldn't anymore.

That was why Joel saw only his own feelings screaming and reaching so loud, grasping like grabby fingers towards you, and blinded himself to the way all those gazes you sent back were you giving him a white flag.

Joel saw what he had the heart and mind to handle at the moment, he liked to think.

Now... this seemed like a third.

This seemed like a confession.

And it all had happened so fast.

One minute, Joel was saying goodnight to Ellie. She was leaving to go to her friend Dina's house, and you were there with your glass of wine in hand while your other browsed through the new books he picked up at the library lying on his shelves.

He had been talking about Martha — to him, it was a funny story he wanted to get out of his system since it happened, and the one and only person he wanted to tell it to was you.

He was even laughing as he started it, but his rhythm faltered when he first caught the look on your face. It made him lose his train of thought. It fucking blindsided him.

Was it jealousy?

He stuttered. It was ridiculous to him — talking about the nice woman who worked at the restaurant who flustered herself trying to talk to Joel. Flirt with him.

He'd never seen that look on your face.

Could it be—no. It had to be something else. "...told her that she isn't actually, uhm... biological. What's wrong? Did I say something wrong? Was I shit-talking myself again and didn't notice?"

If there was a thing that put a frown on your face, it was when he did that.

"No." Joel became alert out of nowhere because this tone was absent from his mental register of all your different voice tones.

"Oh. I thought I did." He laughed, albeit awkwardly. "I just—I thought it was funny, that's all. Didn't even think it was possible for someone to blush still 'cause of old me. It was funny, couldn't believe why she was so flustered.

"Why not? That wasn't the reason for my face but now it fucking is." How could Joel ever demand that Ellie cursed less when this was his household? He pinned that one for later. "You're a handsome guy. Intimidating. Don't laugh at her because you give off those... vibes."

Handsome? Intimidating? Joel's mind started reeling, and so he laughed. "Vibes? What fuckin' vibes? I'm old, Grace. What does she got to be intimidated about other than the side of me she doesn't even fuckin' know?"

"I don't know!" your voice rose to match his own, and that's when Joel noticed how his pitch rose as he argued with you. Bickering or fighting, you two could end up at each other's throats within a second, and then be hugging in the next. "Maybe because she sees you from an outsider's lens? Maybe she sees what you can't since you're so busy always thinking about everything you do wrong and lose the ability to look past that?"

"All I do is get shit wrong! You better than anyone knows that." God, was he happy Ellie had left. Joel sighed, rubbed his palms all over his face and tried breathing deep to steady his voice. "I've got nothin' to offer anyone and I don't even know how we got here from a funny lil' story I was—"

That's when it happens.

You interrupt him.

Deadly, direct, and loud, you cut over his words.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

"Why not?! It's the truth."

"No, it fucking isn't! It's the cruel part of you that judges you based only on the wrongdoing and paints it as your whole personality and I'm not gonna fucking have it! It's not the truth. It's not! Not to me." When you stopped, the whole house seemed to follow suit and quiet down with you. Then—"You don't accept me seeing only the worst in me. Why would I let you do the same? I won't."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him.

Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him.

Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

It silenced him immediately.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The silence must have stretched for too long because as it becomes a physical blanket draping over both of your shoulders, your posture changes.

Becomes erratic.

Looking from side to side, you sigh. "Y'know what? I should go. We're both hot-headed idiots and I don't wanna—"

"Sit down."

For the first time ever, you obeyed him.

It took you a second—you froze at the command but stopped your movements to remove your jacket from the chair's back and sat back down in slow movements, your eyes lingering on his all the time.

Was it real?

"Gimme a second here." Joel needed more than that. Goddamn it—Joel would need the rest of his life to accommodate to this feeling. Thing bubble of pure, raw energy swirling inside of him and growing each second, all because— "You were."

You were jealous. Of him.

Your eyes never looked so vulnerable. So earnest, and terrified. "Of course I was." It comes out like you silly old man.

Joel tries to work his vocal cords. They might've been knitted together. "Why?"

Instead of raging over him again, this time, your gaze sees the real question he's asking.

Joel never believed in an air you could touch until he stood in this very room.

He can taste the back of his tongue. He sees your frown softening, disappearing.

"Because you care, Joel." The simpler answer. He waits, because he sees in your steady, careful breathing that there's more you want to say. This tone he recognizes. This is 'I'm collecting myself bit by bit' Grace, and he waits, as always. "Because... you either lost your eyesight or just blinded yourself to... you." It's nighttime and the only light in the kitchen comes from his yellowish bulb, but it's enough to see the tint on your cheeks. "Because you're—this package. Of everything real. Everything resilient, and clever, and... Miller. Fuckin' — southern charm. Stupid fuckin' smile."

It amps. It darkens. Your cheeks, your eyes. And once you seem, it seems a crack is opened in your dam, and the inevitable water comes to fall.

"I dreamt about it before." Joel is stuck in place, listening to you. "Your smile. The way you laugh, too. And — you do this thing, where you're a complete delight to people you care about. That's what Ellie means when she says you make it so hard to stay away from you, just so you know."

"You two talk about me?" it comes out choked.

You nod. "'Course we fuckin' do."

"Goddamn it."

"Yeah." Your laughter sounds as breathless as he feels. "Because of that. And more."

He nods back, thinking — okay.

Okay.

Joel might take a lifetime to feel worthy of your feelings, but if he has them — "I didn't think I stood any chance."

The confession lays on the table for a moment and when you pick it up, Joel can see it — your eyes widen, surprise evident on your face.

"You really didn't know," you whisper.

He blinks away the sudden sting and glint in his eyes, laughing at himself. "I really didn't know." He registers you knew about your own feelings, but you have no idea of his. It registers that you both have been suffering in silence, overshadowed by the brightness of your own feelings to see beyond them. "I don't think I could've handled it if I knew it before," he confesses.

"Wow." You sigh deeply, sucking all the air you can into your lungs. "I can't believe I owe that little shit fifty bucks. I don't even have money."

"You bet on this?"

The look you throw him is enough of an answer.

Then, another question pops up — and yeah. That's why the air is palpable. It's like walking through a spider's nest.

The threads might be thinner than hair, but the feeling sticks out. It sticks with you. If Joel's had a chance all this time, if all your feelings were kept safely tucked i

He only has one question to make. "Is it too late?"

Your eyes snap back to him. "Too late for what?"

"To make a move." Joel might've been an idiot, but he's keen on fixing it. "Because — in case it wasn't clear, my thoughts are all yours." From the look on your face, it was not something you knew. The glint in your eyes tells him it might be something you hoped for or dreamed about, but it's his words that set it into stone. "My time's yours. I ain't as good as you with words, but... all I ever wanna be is alone with you. You said it yourself last month. 'm the happiest when I'm with you and El. Now... you know why."

For someone who knew him so little, you always seemed to know what kept Joel tethered to the moment.

As you listened to his words, your eyes shined, reflecting the light. Joel wanted to say more things, but he decided to keep them for later. A moment when there was less of his soul seeming to pour out through his pores.

You get up from your chair, and in two steps, you're standing in front of him.

Turning sideways, you sit on his lap.

Joel feels his hands shake as they come to rest on your hips, and yours come up to his face.

There's nothing left for you to say, or ask. Joel closes his eyes in surrender. Opening his mouth was a leap — perhaps the height was what created that bubble; that huge thing inside of him that only expanded the closer you got.

Joel never felt this before.

He knew those were your lips pressing against his. Knew it was your hair tickling his face and your fingers threading through his thick hair, but he felt submerged.

Not drowning — just deep, way deep in water.

You pulled back after a second. The kiss was so soft, and yet, Joel felt you like an ocean wave.

He opened his eyes to the sight of you licking your lips, and that snapped him; something in your tongue reached deep within him, going further than he thought possible, and ignited another something in him.

Desire.

Not the need for release, or momentary rushes, but—

the real deal.

One of Joel's hands came up abruptly, taking hold of your neck, and he breathed in a slow breath before closing the gap between your lips again.

This time, he invited himself in.

Joel licked your lips open. He pulled you closer until you were pressed against his chest, and kissed you for all the years he lacked the will to kiss someone.

It was a feast.

The more he gave, the more you took. The sounds that started to come out of you only made Joel hungrier, and the more he heard it, the more he craved it.

He could already see the cycle of addiction forming in his brain.

Your tongue swirled with his slowly, in a lazy, filthy kiss. With his hands making a mess of your hair or grabbing you by the neck and chin, he guided your face to where he wanted.

When a particular breathy whine was pulled out of you, Joel's fingers tightened around you. The kiss became desperate, needy, a pouring of bottled emotions.

A joined deep dive, where no oxygen was needed.

Fuck—Joel needed to breathe. He pulled back because his lungs screamed that at him, and he laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that. His heart was beating as fast as it could, and his ears were ringing, he thought, and you were resting your forehead on his with your puffs of breath tickling his face.

He could feel you smiling with how close you stayed to his lips.

Joel really was alive, no matter how hard he fought it.

And now, somehow, he was here.

"What?" you whispered. Breathless.

That, he wanted to answer. Joel panted, and noticed you were breathing heavily too.

"'m never been in such a hurry my whole damn life." Joel pulled you back by the nape for one more kiss just to show you he meant it, and you moaned on his lips.

It occurred to him that might die by your hands, metaphorical or not.

You were in him.

"You." His time was yours, and so were his thoughts, and now, Joel thought he was, too. In a way. "Sittin' here on my lap, like it's nothin'."

"It's everything."

"Goddamn it, woman—"are you trying to kill me, he wants to say.

It gets buried in your lips.

Joel wants to devour you right there on the table. It's a place for eating, and he'd butter you up only to eat you piece by piece until half of his face was drenched.

At the same time, Joel's hands were shaking.

He kissed you so deep, and yet so slow because he wants this forever.

He couldn't keep everything inside him. Joel knew all he could do for now was kiss you because anything more might pull him apart by the seams.

When you start kissing his neck, his eyes snap open, and he forces himself to capture your attention. "Darlin'." It comes out raspy and low, pulling another precious sound from you. Joel exhales shakily. "Grace, hey."

That gets you. Your face comes back in his field of vision, and he's distracted by the reality facing him.

Red cheeks and lips, which are also puffy. Swollen.

He did that.

The glazy glint in your eyes and the wildness of your hair.

He did that, too.

"What?" you ask. Breathless voice — all him.

It hits him right there—the new stream making connections in the depths of his mind. Mine. A river of mineminemine.

"I hate to break this short, but — El's comin' back soon, I think."

"Oh!" You nod to yourself. "Right. And — you wanna wait? To tell her, and stuff?"

Joel laughs. He leans his head to kiss those pretty, puffy lips. He murmurs the answer right against them. "Nah. 'm gossiping to her as soon as she's through that door and 'm gettin' my money share of that bet you mentioned." Your gasp makes the smile stay on his face. "Yeahhh. But — I'm takin' you on a date tomorrow. Old school style. I'll plan it and everythin'. I know you well enough to not mess this up, I think."

He's messed up enough in his life. Maybe the universe could grant him after trying so damn hard to repair all the things he'd broken; a chance.

"I'll be ready, Miller."

He kisses you again. "Good. I'll pick you up at sundow."

"Is this you kicking me out of your house?"

He rolls his eyes at the sarcastic question and kisses the cocky grin off your face because he now can. He kisses it away real good, until his own toes are squirming in his boots and Joel can categorize the strength you like to have your hair being pulled by, how much you enjoy the nibbles he's unable to keep from stealing of your lips, and he's mapped the outlines of your upper body.

When he needs the stupid oxygen again, Joel pulls back but stays close.

"You're gonna help me make dinner?" he asks, low and sweet.

You hum. "Yeah."

"Thank you." Thank you, he kisses the thought on your lips. Thank you so much. "'m gonna be doin' this a lot now that I know I can."

"Oh, you're gonna kill me."

Joel's smirk comes back. "Y'know what? I was thinkin' the same thing."

Dinner is made with music playing on the radio for the first time in a while. Joel almost pinches himself when Ellie gets home with a, "Woah, what the fuck?! It smells amazing in here."

It hurts, how good it feels.

Joel never thought that feeling would come back.

According to Ellie Williams, Joel becomes "unbearable, really," and he would take offense to it had she not followed it with, "but... it's nice to see this side of you. And — I like her. I love Grace, actually. You know that. She's given me a lot to think about. Plus—she makes you reeeeal talkative, and we had a nice talk last night. Good on you."

Good on you.

Joel smiles for the rest of the day.

Tommy takes a total of one day and one scolding from you — which Joel fucking misses because of a shift of all things, and honestly, he'll never stop asking for your story of that day — and there's that.

Millers Sunday has a couple of tense first tries, but after a couple of months, people get used to the shift.

It's not that different from before.

You two were already seen side by side more often than not. Now, the difference was that Joel's arm could be found around your chair sometimes, or your hand rested on his neck, or you two shared a little wink.

A little flirtatious remark.

Ellie 'hated' it. "It's gross. You two are gross."

She said it laughing, though. Joel smiled every time he heard it.

They grew used to it, and Joel thanked the power of the peace you brought him, because anything they disliked about it became white noise to him.

All his insecurities were abandoned on the first date night he has with you.

Joel gets the house all for himself.

He plans the hours carefully because he meant what he said. He picks you up at sunset and takes you for a walk on the lake to enjoy the night sight and weather while it lasts. After, he takes you home to eat dinner, then pulls out one of your favorite board games to entertain the night and give both the time to work through the wine.

He liked to see your glee winning.

Joel was shitty at most of these, but it was worth the frustration of being a sore loser in your hands.

You soothed his bickering protests by crawling to him.

Not sliding, or scooting over — you crawled like a cat, and stole all his focus in one movement.

Joel did to you what he meant to do on that table.

First, right there on the floor.

Even though he wished you two went to the bedroom, it was impossible to untangle from under you when you kissed him until you two were panting for each other again. All that energy sizzling in your veins, pumping with dreams and wine, and Joel just thought fuck it.

There was a fluffy carpet and the duvet he'd spread so you two could sit with the game and play comfortably, and that's all he needed.

He had you on your back with your legs wrapped around his neck, lying with his stomach on the floor. Kneading the pad of his thumbs on the inside of your legs. Kissing all the parts of you he imagined. Joel stripped you from your clothes, and kept his eyes fixed on you as he searched for the right ways to unwind you.

He opened you up with his tongue, slowly, and deliberately.

Nothing was enough when it came to you.

Joel accepted right there — legs locked on his shoulders and your feet digging heels in his back —, right then — his tongue thrusting in and out of you until his jaw ached —, that he was fine knowing it'd be an endless search.

Seeking his fill of you.

He eats up the way your lips loosen when his hands are on you. "Joel, why d'you have clothes on? Take 'em off, take it off." He appreciated how you lost your eloquence. How eager you were for him.

"It's ok, 'm here, darlin."

"I know, want it closer." He loved how you took it. What you wanted from him, you just took it, and he prayed it would always be that way. "Want you in me," you whisper on his lips.

That's when he finds the strength to get up. He picks you up and resists the urge to throw you over his shoulder, taking you to the bedroom with all of his clothes still on and yours abandoned in various places of the living room.

Time sort of... folds, with you and a bedroom.

Joel finds that out on night one, and it keeps on being true.

The way all your walls are down there drives him towards insanity, and later, you peppering kisses all over the skin closest to you, the skin your mouth can find, it brings him back.

Joel gets undressed slowly. "Get on the bed." He falters a little when you obey him again, and it clicks for him. Joel exhales, throwing his shirt off somewhere. "Touch yourself while I do this."

Your eyes widen for a second, but again...

You smile first. Then, slowly, your knees pull apart and your hand reaches between your legs, where your pussy opens up in a glistening sight, and Joel has only the mind to finish his task.

It's hard not to worship something that makes his mouth water.

He does that until you're shaking, legs trembling on his shoulders and begging for him to come up—"get here, please."

It's the 'please' that gets him.

Joel goes in seek of more of them. Always more of them.

He discovers you like it when he alternates between extremes. Really slow, or a hard, or a fast, or a deep pace. Joel spends as long as he can take testing all the ways you wrapped around him can feel like and all the angles that make your jaw fall slack open.

Something about fucking you face to face, though — Joel gets to see the scrunch of your nose and your eyes rolling back when he praises you for doing so, so well. "Taking me so well. Look at that — look at it, baby, c'mon." The loud and unabashed moan you let out makes him roll his eyes, thrusting deep into you. "Keep on looking."

"Joel."

"Hmhm. What — is it — hm, baby?"

"'m gonna cum again," you whine, getting louder, and he gets more desperate. "Oh, god," you cry out.

"'s fine. That's what — I want. Give it to me"

"It's so good. Please—harder, Joel. Like you want to fuck me."

You enjoy doing it to him, Joel thinks. Breaking him so you can put it back together, or maybe it's just how you make him whine that gets to your head.

It gets louder — everything gets louder. The sounds, the bubble of feelings reading to burst and be reborn again, only bigger, how fucking wet you get for me.

"C'mon, darlin'. Wanna feel you soakin' me with your cum."

Joel sees why you enjoy it, too.

He smiles, and ascends at seeing the sweet feelings of release washing you from head to toe, and the transcendent look in your eyes when you open them and pull him down for a kiss. You came so hard he lost himself in your orgasm, mixing with his own and he cums a little more at the realization, burying himself deeper in the mess you two have made.

Your whining and panting in can only be felt, so he switches your face to his left side. "Deaf, baby."

You giggle at him. "I didn't say anything."

"I know. Just wanna hear your lil' noises." Joel kisses your neck, and pulls out slowly despite your whiny protests. His fingers come down to between your legs and he should feel self-conscious about the filthy mess he makes there, but when he looks up at your face you're watching him with a look he knows.

I'm starving for you.

Joel seals his lips on yours.

He's never leaving this place. This home he's built where he gets you, and a second chance, and the monthly Sundays with music and you by his side whispering indecent jokes in his ears, and the protective circle you create around him and Ellie ate any minor possibility of outsiders.

Joel's not missing this chance for anything.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup hope you all enjoy it!

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roseboysstuff · 7 months

Note

Leon tried to impregnate his Lil bro but no awail

So he decided to punish his brother's stubborn pussy 😈

He spanked he's brothers cunt and then thoroughly bred him until he's full and round and then plugged Lil bro's cunny so no drop will waste

Sorry for mistakes if there is any I'm just so horny just thinking about it 🥵🥵🥵

Ooooo making sure his lil bro is good and knocked up without a doubt CW // incest, don't like don't read

Leon had been trying to knock you up for months. But nothing. His seed refuses to take. And he was getting frustrated. Your body was perfectly suited to take his cock and his seed, and he was going to see you round with his kid soon. So this time, as he pulled you into his room to stuff you with more of his cum, his face was rage filled and passionate. He pushed you down onto the bed, stripping your clothes off faster than ever before. Usually in your sessions with your big brother, he was slow and sensual, but the passion and ferocity in his eyes tonight was different. As soon as he saw your dripping pussy, he growled and slapped it. You gasped and twitched, and a small whimper left your lips, which only spurred him on to continue. He leaned down and spanked your pussy again, a loud plap sound echoing in the room. "Stubborn little boycunt, I'll make sure you accept my seed into that womb of yours for good tonight." And he made good on his promise, opening you up with his fingers until he was sure your pussy was as ready as it could be. His thrusts started off slow, and he made sure you were open and ready before beginning to thrust harder. "Take my cock, take it all. My good little brother, you're gonna look so good all round and pregnant." He kept one hand over your womb, massaging your stomach, hoping he could stimulate your womb and ovaries into accepting his seed. His other hand was firmly rubbing your clit, trying to make your climax all over his cock. He'd heard that an orgasm would increase the chance of his seed impregnating you, and after waiting for so long, he was not taking any chances this time. You would bear his children, and he was going to make sure of it. And as he climaxed inside you, you assumed he would stop, but he just kept thrusting, determined to stuff you full and breed you with as many loads as he could release. It was probably about 4 loads later that he finally stopped, letting your puffy cunt have a rest. But he didn't just pull out, he grabbed a plug from his bedside drawer, as soon as his cock was out, he shoved the plug inside. The feeling of his cum inside you, kept there by the plug made you whimper but he just slapped your clit. "Better hope you get knocked up this time, or I'll make sure all our love making is like tonight was."

#ftm reader #male reader #leon kennedy x ftm reader #x reader #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader

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justporo · 5 months

Text

Lost between the covers

When outside a blizzard is raging, there is nothing better than cuddling up with your vampire for a little reading date, right? Well, if you can pick a book to agree on...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the "Getting cozy" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge. Shortly ago I wrote a little thing about Astarion and books - and then immediately knew I had to write more about it for the fluff challenge. The bad erotica short stories thing was inspired by another post (I'll link if I can find it, if someone has it, please halp, I can't find anything on this hellsite) and also ofc there have been several posts going around on how Astarion is a Drizzt fan.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,4k ~~~

The burning logs crackled in the fireplace while the flames licked on them and flickering warm light filled your living room. Outside a snow storm had been raging the whole day and hadn't stopped even when night had fallen. Wind was howling around the house, and little specks of ice were thrown so hard by the gusts, they made clattering noises against the big living room window.

It didn't bother you at all. You didn’t even spare it any attention at all anymore. The rising and ebbing of the howling wind and the crackling of the fire had become nothing but pleasant background noise.

You were all cosily snuggled up on Astarion's lap, legs swung over his, head on the vampire's shoulder, a blanket wrapped thoroughly around you. The pale elf’s feet were comfortably crossed over each other at the ankles on the floor. His head slightly rested on the crown of yours and he had put his arms lightly around your frame while holding a small leatherbound book he was reading to you from.

The whole scene was just complete and utter bliss - you didn’t remember the last time you had felt such serene peace. Perhaps you never had.

And if you would have asked him, Astarion would have told you very much the same. The vampire might never get used to the feeling of having you close, feeling the warmth of your body slowly seeping into his own as you relaxed into him, fully trusting him. He’d never known or shared this kind of closeness with anyone before.

And he wouldn’t give it up anymore for anything in the world - not even for being able to walk in the sun again.

At first Astarion had made a fuss when you had started to climb on his lap like a cat. But you'd been feeling rather sick for a while now and felt you were entitled to some pampering from your partner. And of course Astarion actually loved that he was that to you: the person you came to because he was your safe haven - not to mention the love of your life.

But the vampire still had wrestled you off his lap once more while you had pouted.

“Ah ah, patience, my darling. I'm only setting us up so we can stay all neatly cuddled up for the rest of the night,” he'd lectured you and had inclined his head towards you while doing a little bow.

“I don't know, Astarion, you being the one talking about having patience somehow feels cynic to me,” you'd replied and wrapped your arms around you to stay warm.

Astarion's eyes had narrowed dangerously at you, tongue in cheek, before he had turned on his heel and left without another word. You probably had only made him take his sweet time now. With a sigh you had sunk back onto the piece of furniture

He had returned some time later with a stack of different books under his arm, a cup of hot tea for you and some mulled wine for himself.

Astarion had scoffed at first at the premise of drinking “fine wine ruined with spices and fruit, my love - why not immediately make me drink juice with seasoning, ugh.” But then he had started to enjoy it quite quickly.

You scurried to make place for your vampire on the sofa. Then putting the mugs down on the small table beside the couch, the vampire sat down beside you again, balancing books of different size and condition on his legs.

“So, tell me my love, what shall we read?”, he asked cheerfully while you just eyed the stack of books on his lap - they were in your spot.

Astarion looked at you cockily, eyebrows raised, waiting for you to give a response. You just slowly blinked at him. Your brain was mushy and foggy from being sick - you weren't up to make important choices, but you tried to pull yourself together. Astarion was awful at downplaying how excited he seemed to just snuggle up with you on the couch with a book and you surely wanted to indulge him.

“Well, what's on offer?”, you finally asked in response.

Astarion jumped right back into action with a pleased grin: “I'm so glad you asked, my love.”

He lifted up the first one of the books: small, blue, golden lettering on the front and spine. “We have a nice small volume of poetry - the writing is a bit too sappy for my liking, personally, but this poet's been all the rave lately, so I had to form an opinion on that of course.”

“Of course,” you chimed in with a knowing little smile. It was insanely cute to you how much enthusiasm the vampire had for literature.

You had drawn your legs up to sit on them and were now leaning your elbow on your knees, chin in your hand, looking at Astarion who lifted up the next book - a huge, very old looking, leather-bound tome.

“We have one of the most holistic and elaborate accounts of history of our wondrous city of Baldur’s Gate”, the vampire went on, putting on some scholarly demeanour. Gods, he almost reminded you of Gale for a second. You blinked a few times to get that out of your head.

Then you eyed the dusty and crumbly book with a scrunched up nose: “You don’t really want to read that, do you?”

Astarion looked at you in confusion: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nerd”, you simply said. “Next!”

The vampire’s red gaze narrowed at you in distaste. He still held up the huge leatherbound chronicles in his hands.

“One comment about how I grew up on the streets and am uncultured, Astarion, and I will bite you!”, you threatened and stuck a finger in his face.

Immediately the pale elf put on a smug grin. “Would be a nice change for once, don’t you think?”, he muttered in a sultry tone while you just rolled your eyes and groaned. “But alright, I understand that the audience may be a little… overwhelmed with this suggestion”, he continued in one of his insufferable ways and went to carefully place down the huge tome on the wooden floor.

You still felt like you had been made fun of but you let it slide for now.

“Alright, next up we have this titillating collection of obnoxiously bad erotica short stories,” Astarion continued and lifted up a much smaller book again - this one bound in linen in a deep red colour. The vampire was back at grinning lewdly at you, one eyebrow lifted high.

“Is this where you got all your lines from?”, you asked dryly.

Astarion’s expression immediately turned sour. “Alright, we’re not reading this one”, he said in a flat tone, glowering angrily at you. He threw the book over his shoulder and heard how it clattered to the ground - always so dramatic.

Meanwhile you had started cackling so much you had to bury your face in your hand for a moment. Under his breath you heard Astarion mutter something about why he hadn’t “just chosen about anyone else to manipulate and end up with”.

Quickly, you went to lean forward and grab his face to cherish it with a kiss. Despite his still disgusted face the pale elf welcomed the loving attention. When you pulled away you kept holding his face in your hands: “You’re stuck with me, love.”

“Good thing, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else then”, Astarion replied and leaned in again for another kiss.

Afterwards,sitting up straight again, Astarion sighed dreamily while his eyes lingered on you.

“What’s the last one?”, you asked after a while of the vampire seemingly just getting lost in your eyes.

“Hm?” he made, raising his eyebrows. Then he shook his head softly to focus again while you grinned to yourself knowingly.

Astarion lifted up the last pick in his stack of books he’d brought: “Well, the last one is another adventurous tale of Drizzt Do’Urden.”

Your head perked up when you heard that.

Astarion had introduced you to the legendary tales of Drizzt a while ago now and despite brushing it off at first you had gotten seriously into the stories. And another one of those stories sounded just about right for a stormy winter night and for cuddling up for the rest of the night.

Eagerly, you climbed on Astarion’s lap without any other responses. The vampire just laughed while he allowed you to cosy up to him and finally sealed the deal by putting an arm around you, with his other hand opening up the book already.

“Alright, looks like we have a winner”, he mused playfully and dragged you in a little closer on his lap so he could press another kiss to the top of your head.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #bg3holidayfluffle23 #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

Text

Masterlist

warnings: smutty thoughts

thinking about seungmin and dry humping...

now I know we all see him as the calm, cool, collected one. but sometimes he just can't help himself.

mornings before you or he has to leave for work are the times where he wants- no, needs you the most. it's like he purposely plans to ruin you minutes before someone needs to walk out the door, sort of like a challenge he needs to win. he loved to take his time when he had it, loved to make you shiver and sweat at the same time because the build up was excruciatingly good.

this was another game. mornings like these, when all the other members were home and they agreed to get breakfast together before heading to the company, seungmin felt like he'd explode if he didn't have you in some way.

he was fully dressed in his practice outfit for the day. he'd already said good morning to jeongin and brushed his teeth with felix, whereas you hadn't bothered to get up. seungmin was merciful with letting you sleep in, getting himself together as quietly as possible until minho announced the car would be arriving in fifteen minutes.

it was like a clock was counting down the seconds in his head as he moved across the bed towards your sleeping body. dipping his head into the exposed area of your neck, seungmin peppered gentle kisses along the skin wherever he could. barely thirty seconds had passed before you stirred awake.

you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, lips connecting as his internal timer tells him he's moving too slow. though, that makes it all the more fun.

seungmin takes good care of you, he always does. even as he strips the covers off of you and maneuvers your legs to wrap around his torso, seungmin makes sure to whisper sweet praises in your ear as you try to stay conscious. you feel light as air in this delirious state, practically floating because your boyfriend is saying all the right things and touching you just enough to thoroughly soak your sleepwear.

"pretty thing, so cute in the mornings. wanna just eat you up," he nibbles on the lobe of your ear, erection nudging into your thigh as not to do too much too fast. but at the faintest hint of a moan, whether it was you slowly coming into consciousness or being just as horny as him, seungmin pressed his crotch into you all the same.

"need you so bad, but I have to leave soon." a whine fell short in the back of your throat, but it was enticing enough for him. "if you let me use you now, I'll treat you so well later. I promise."

you nod, eyes unable to focus clearly but it was impossible to miss the cheeky lust behind his smile. "horny baby," seungmin clicks his tongue, "can't get enough, can you?" in agreement, you shake your head, no.

eleven minutes.

your hips cant upwards into his, a strained groan leaving his lips. the unspoken permission let him hook his arms under your knees, legs hiking higher. seungmin kissed you again, rougher this time as he quickly readjusted to tower over you.

he felt like an animal, a new flame igniting in his gut as he grinded his cock against your clothed pussy. the pleasure that came from the motion only made him move faster, harder until the bed was creaking.

seungmin's favorite thing to do was be able to look down as see you entirely gone, not a thought in your head except wanting to cum. you looked messy, sexy as your tight sleeping tank top rode up to expose your stomach. as if you could read his mind, you lifted the material over your breasts, rippling like waves as seungmin used you to chase his high. for a moment, he leaned down and took your nipple between his teeth, gently biting and drawing another lewd moan from you.

shuffling behind the door caught his attention. six minutes. he needed hurry.

he pushed your knees to your chest, your shorts and the front of his pants laughably soaked through. it wasn't until he moved higher did he catch a glimpse of your pantiless cunt.

oh, seungmin almost blew his load on the spot. almost. he was so close, moving the wet fabric of your shorts out of the way. he couldn't wait any longer, couldn't get enough of you and your pretty pussy.

"so good. so fucking good- god."

three minutes.

it felt even better for you with one less barrier in between. sleepy moans left you like a mantra, that and seungmin's name the only thing either of you could hear. if the bedframe hitting the wall wasn't enough, your big mouth was a dead giveaway.

two minutes.

he moved as fast as he could without hurting you. his pants were soaked enough that the friction between your two bodies was heavenly in it's own way. your clit was burning with pleasure, somehow the pain and lack of awareness so delicious. seungmin just needed a little bit more, just a few more seconds when-

knock, knock.

"car's here."

#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #Kim seungmin #Kim seungmin smut #Kim seungmin fluff #Kim seungmin angst #seungmin smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #skz seungmin

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yumeka-sxf · 7 months

Text

My thoughts on Spy x Family: EYES ONLY Guidebook (English ver) - part 3

Continuing from my previous two posts, this will be my last post discussing the English version of the SxF manga guidebook "EYES ONLY." I'll discuss some of Endo's and Lin's comments on specific chapters, some of the included concept art for the series, all the Twiyor tidbits the book has to offer, and conclude with a couple things the English version of the book omits.

Endo's and Lin's comments on specific chapters

There's at least one comment from Endo and/or Lin on every chapter of the manga from when the book was originally published (up to chapter 61). Unfortunately I can't cover every single comment, but I did want to highlight a few (more will be covered in the Twiyor tidbits later on).

So Bond wouldn't have actually died from Yor's cooking then? Good to know her cooking isn't that bad, lol. Also that's a good question, Lin, maybe you should ask Endo? 😅

Lots of great info about the cruise arc. Makes sense that they had to plan it out many months in advance and keep revising it to patch up plot holes. All that work definitely paid off! Interesting that they almost considered not having Loid on the ship at all. Glad they didn't because otherwise we wouldn't have gotten one of his best outfits! 🤣 (can't wait to see this piece of work in color in the anime!)

Incidentally, the scene Endo mentions where he "managed to make Yor look pretty cute" is this one (she does look pretty cute here).

My favorite comment of Endo's about any chapter has to be this one for chapter 56. Never change, Endo 😂

And lastly, some good comments about chapter 59 (Becky visits the Forgers).

This is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters so I'm glad it was well received. Funny how they kept going with the joke instead of ending it "normally"...but when you have such great characters and setups, good comedy writes itself!

Below is Endo's commentary about Henderson, not a specific chapter, but thought I'd point it out since he mentions Henderson is the only character he's done a shower scene for...not anymore!

Also, while not related to a specific chapter, I do like what Endo says below about Loid and Yor's "dark sides."

He enjoys drawing them this way, which is cool, but he's also cautious about not overdoing it and saving those expressions for important situations.

Concept art

Most of the pre-serialization character designs included in this book were also in the exhibition pamphlet, which I already discussed thoroughly here (wish I had remembered these were in the fanbook so I wouldn't have put so much effort into trying to read Endo's scribble notes). So I'll just mention a few of the most notable things.

As I discussed in my post about the pamphlet, Franky was at some point intended to be the uncle of the family. Though I do think it would have been fitting to make him the uncle, I also like the main focus being on just the "nuclear" family, with the uncle and other characters having supportive roles.

An interesting note about the beta version of Yor is that she seemed to be more like Fiona - she was in love with Loid right from the start, to the point of trying to eliminate Anya! I doubt this is something she would be doing all the time as it would have been difficult to make her a likable main character if she was always trying to kill her daughter...in all likelihood, she would have tried to kill Anya at first before eventually learning to love her as a daughter. While I see how this could work for an intriguing character arc, I'm glad Endo decided to make Yor a loving mother to Anya right away, and not make her feelings for Loid an obsessive "love at first sight" kind of thing.

Twiyor tidbits

Being the shipper that I am, I tried to see if I could pinpoint any Twiyor subtleties throughout the book, as vague as they may be! 😂

Below are excerpts from Loid and Yor's character pages where we're given info on their current stance about each other.

Love the emphasis on their bond of trust ❤️

Below are excerpts from chapters 14 and 35, probably the most Twiyor-heavy chapter pages in the book.

This confirms that Loid did indeed interpret Yor's kick as her not having any romantic feelings for him.

Below are comments by Endo and Lin for chapter 30, where Fiona is introduced.

Endo's line is a little ambiguous here, but I think he's saying how people sympathize with Fiona because she's "doomed to lose," which is...telling 😅 (does Fiona's loss automatically mean a Twiyor win?)

Endo says he likes the "You're strong, Yor" conversation, one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far! 😊 Lin also mentioned how they got to use that theme again during the Becky chapter.

Weird that he chose to highlight this line of all things as Loid's "Family Comment" for chapter 10. Could this and chapter 79 be more foreshadowing for an eventual "Twilight vs Thorn Princess" showdown? 👀 Or maybe he just likes teasing fans because he knows it's something they fantasize about.

English version omissions

There's an additional Endo interview that's missing from the English version of the book: an interview with him and Kazumi Takayama, a former idol of the group Nogizaka46.

At first it seemed very odd that they would leave out just this interview, but after discussing it with others on Discord, I realized it's because it has to do with an idol. Apparently getting licensing rights for anything that has to do with a Japanese idol group is very difficult, which is further hindered by the fact that Takayama isn't even part of that idol group anymore, which makes getting the content green lit for official release overseas even more taxing. So probably Viz decided it wasn't worth the trouble and just left out that interview. But thankfully u/Nemshi on Reddit posted a fan translation of it, which you can read here. They talk a bit about SxF, but most of it is just general questions they ask each other.

And the other thing missing from the English version that I really can't understand is the inside cover! Another great 4th-wall breaking joke from Endo (I added a quick translation of the Japanese version below).

Unlike the Takayama interview, I have no idea why they didn't include this. They include the inside cover as an extra page in all the English volumes, so why not here? Very weird.

---

And that's all I'm going to share for the "EYES ONLY" fanbook! Honestly, there's so much great content in the book that I didn't touch on, like info about East/West relations, about Eden Academy, Endo's comments on all the designer chairs for the volume covers...and lots more. So definitely get a copy yourself if you can! It's a must-have for any SxF fan 😁 Books like this aren't officially released in English very often, so the fact that Viz thought it was worthwhile to make this proves how much of a hit SxF is!

<- Return to Part 2

#spy x family #spy family #sxf #spyxfamily #twiyor #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers #tatsuya endo

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genericpuff · 4 months

Note

Why do you keep fast passing when you hate LO now? (Actual curious question, not meant in a "Stop doing that" way)

Oh I don't FastPass it myself anymore haha I'll FP it when I want to thoroughly review any episodes (ex the midseason finale episodes) but other than that I just readalong with pals who are willing to make that sacrifice and otherwise stick to the free episodes. Makes it into a silly fun time where we read and react together. I stopped regularly FP'ing it after the S2 finale, I don't even have the app on my phone anymore (I do on my iPad tho when I wanna catch up on series I DO like haha)

That said, I know my whole thing is "hating LO" but you gotta understand I fell in love with this comic when it was in its S1 era and while I don't love it anymore, I still wanna see how it ends, even though I know it's not gonna impress me at this point. I'm still invested even if it's not the same way I was before. Following along with LO week by week has been a hell of a ride, and while it's certainly been a bumpy one in a lot of places, there are a lot of things I wouldn't be privy to or be able to write about here if I wasn't following it week by week to some extent (in this case, reading it with pals). A lot of real time context is practically necessary to understanding this comic's downfall, I don't think it would be quite the same if I just let it sit and then caught up to it later. If that makes sense?

Something something "if you wanna play the game then you gotta get on the field" or w/e. I have fun in this fandom but as with any fandom, it means staying up to date on the thing we're talking about to a certain degree. And again, I know my whole thing is hating on it, but I'm not like, legitimately suffering or anything haha I read the new episodes with pals, have a fun time reacting and making jokes/memes/etc., maybe write a post about it if there's something to talk about, then I move on until next week when it starts all over again 😌😂 I'm cherishing these times more than ever because I know they won't last forever (i.e. eventually the comic will end and those fun weekly readalongs will be over, *sigh*)

#tl ; dr: because i still have fun reading the comic and i want to keep up on it haha #lo critical #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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jester089 · 7 months

Note

Jax Ass kicker here, it was definitely funny to see your thoughts on the purple menace and thanks for entertaining it! I’d like HC’s of them but only and ONLY if your up for it. I’m happy as is. Thanks! LOL ^_^

A well deserved A%# kicking (Part 2)

Can do! I'll read requests more thoroughly so I don't gloss over a vital thing like that again. Sorry again! Enjoy.

Caine

You being willing to fight back against Jax didn't really affect Caine as Jax never messed with him. Though Caine appreciates you helping out the others. It's strange but since Jax arrived Caine has seen an abnormal rise in abstraction. And Caine just can't put his finger on why? But then you showed up and it dropped back to the usual. *shrugs*

Gangle

Out of everyone Gangle needs it the most. She's made out of ribbon so she's easily hurt AND can't fight back! Have you ever tried to hit someone with a ribbon? It's impossible. AND HER MASKS ARE BREAKABLE! Yeah she needs some help. Your like a much needed Jax repellent that Gangle has been hoping for since she got here. But every time you protect her she feels bad cause she can't really do anything for you. But she'll try and be a bit more talkative/affectionate as you seem to like that. Do be warned each time he's stopped Jax gets more and more aggressive. So the only real way to have Gangle be safe is to either A. Always be with her. Or B. Get rid of Jax somehow. But that isn't going to happen so I recommend setting up a bed in your room for Gangle.

Zooble

Jax doesn't pick on Zooble a lot. He doesn't do her any favors sure, but I feel like their similar ages might make her less of a target? It's either that or because her reactions are never much fun to him. Well whatever the case, Zooble doesn't need much help. She can handle herself in an argument and in a fight. She could pop one arm off and have double the range making her able to hit the person with a full strength punch from afar. Still though everyone gets caught at a bad time eventually. And if you stepped in between her and Jax when something went wrong or Jax was being especially awful she would be grateful. She wouldn't show it until you two were alone but she does appreciate it. And she'll make sure you know that. Later.

Kinger

Kinger has been in the circus a while. He's the oldest in actual age and the one who's been there the longest. So he's definitely met a few Jax type people in his time and has learned how to avoid them. So more likely then not he wont need your help to often. But everyone needs help eventually. I can see Jax coating the outer layer of one of Kinger's pillow fortresses while he's inside with like cement to trap him. So when you save him he, like a true royal blushes then gives you his child's hand in marriage. But he doesn't have a child. So he'll have to do! (Don't expect anything fancier then a ring pop as a ring and a white sheet as a wedding gown.)

Ragatha

Ragatha honestly needs the help. Not because she's weak or anything. But because she's so worried about making sure the others are ok that she just lets herself be a punching bag if it means the others are ok. She's to much of a people pleaser and she suffers because of it. You two are a good mix of brain and brawn. She keeps everyone in the best state of mind she can manage. And you keep everyone as physically ok as you can manage. You make a good combo but you two can be a little overbearing so make sure, to make sure the persons ok with it. She's got a lot on her mind at all times so she wont always notice you helping her out, especially if it didn't happen in front of her or she was in the middle of something. But when she does realize she'll always thank you for it.

Jax

Two Jax's?! And your protecting one from the other?!? Error code 116832//: To many Jax's. Restart in 30 seconds. :\\ (That was a joke but like, it's a digital world. Technically it could glitch and their could be multiple of a character. I mean did you see that flower at the start of the pilot? It's clearly not a super well held together place.) (So, naturally my mind went straight to the thought being sandwiched in between two Ragatha's having the life squeezed out of me x2 in a super tight but incredibly loving hug. And naturally I'm going to write about that. Eventually. I'm pretty swamped rn.)

Pomni

From her first day here she's known that Jax was bad news. But she doesn't really avoid him, I mean she was there when he admitted to having keys to everywhere. So if he wants to find you their isn't just you can do. Until you arrive she hangs around him and is secretly hoping that he'll like having her around and take it easy on her. That of course doesn't work and by the time you arrive/realize how bad Jax is she's hanging on a thread. More likely then not your going to be taller then her. So if you see her clearly uncomfortable, with Jax or someone else if you just pick her up and walk away she'll be both embarrassed and thankful. She isn't the best at putting her foot down and stopping something she isn't comfortable with so your might end up having to be kind of an a%$#hole for her sake. (Ok I think I did your request right. If I didn't, again. Message me. Sorry but I'm not doing this for a third time. Your just gonna have to live with the two I did make. Even if it turned out wrong I hope you enjoyed.)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #kinger x reader #ragatha x reader #Jax? x reader #pomni x reader #noob author #not beta'd

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placedupon · 10 months

Note

I'm fully on board with criticizing people who say China is evil and bad – it's propaganda. But can you recommend any good reading on why China is actually an important leftist project and not more imperial state capitalism? This is the critique I hear from my Western left bubble, but I don't feel thoroughly educated on this and am receptive to alternative arguments.

Thanks and sorry for posting from my weird kink alt – it's the one that's on my phone and I can't sleep. 🌻

For the specific question you're asking, I think the works of Mobo Gao are the best, but I'll also include some books about the Chinese revolution because I believe they provide some critical context. Of course these recommendations will be in English, because I'm not good enough at reading Chinese to understand Chinese texts (working on it!)

The Battle for China's Past: Mao & the Cultural Revolution by Mobo Gao deconstructs a lot of the sinophobia and anti-communism in the way the west (and many Chinese people) view the cultural revolution. In a similar vein, The Unknown Cultural Revolution: Life and Change in a Chinese Village by Dongping Han is about the authors village and how the cultural revolution & communism was able to empower previously downtrodden peasants.

Constructing China: Clashing views of the People's Republic by Mobo Gao is more about modern perceptions of Chinese people, and how sinophobia is produced on a global scale. Very important text.

On a more historical side, I think the works of Han Suyin are essential: she was one of the only english writers who spoke positively about China (and lived in China!) during the communist revolution. Her autobiographies, starting with A Mortal Flower gave me a lot of insight into many critical events in Chinese history.

She also wrote biographies which were heavily researched. I'm currently reading Wind in the Tower: Mao Tsetung and the Chinese Revolution. She was also friends with Zhou Enlai, and wrote a book about him titled Eldest Son: Zhou Enlai and the Making of Modern China, which I've heard very good things about.

In terms of modern writers who are fighting against Sinophobia right now, Vijay Prashad is incredible. The Qiao Collective has many good articles about China. The podcast Decolonized Buffalo has some great episodes about Chinese history and modern anti-communism.

If I think of more recommendations I'll add them later.

#asks

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somewhereincairparavel · 1 month

Note

could u do something about thalia never showing up for jason? in the end of tlh he was hoping she’d show up for the counselors meeting and she didn’t so maybe a series of him making plans with her/trying to get in touch with her and just being disappointed every time… not thalia hate i love u thalia she just is too busy for him (while doing it during the months between tlh and son could be cool i think in between boo and toa would be more angsty bc u know he’s going through a breakup!!! he’s all alone in this random private school he isn’t familiar with the mortal world and he just wants his sister but she isn’t there!!!)

Two times Jason Grace wrote Thalia a letter, and the one time he didn't send it.

author's note: Ah this is so angsty and perfecttt :( The Grace siblings deserved more…they're my faves fr.. anyway, I hope I did justice to your request anon! Thank you for requesting, it made my day! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. I just finished my exams and I'm back to having more time for writing :) you guys can send me more angsty jason prompts like this one if you want to, I'll write them with the best of my capabilities, I'm quite new to heavy angst like this so I was surprised when I was able to finish this within an hour. Jason Grace does this to me.

TW: severe angst. I mean it, very severe, character death, mentions of sacrifice, no happy ending. I went all out, I'm sorry. I was just way too into this.

Jason traced his finger over the glossy photo frame in his hands, which encrusted a picture of his older sister, Thalia. He had requested Leo to help him with the framing, the edges were made with a mahogany coating. He smiled at the lovely picture of his sister, her hair being held together by her silver huntress circlet, wearing her punk rock clothes.

Over the course of the summer, He had finally gotten the chance to take a good picture of Thalia for a family keepsake, he had held on to the tattered, torn picture of Thalia that annabeth had given to him before his first quest, and he still treasured it greatly. But he insisted that Thalia and him take at least one good picture before she disappeared with her maidens into the world, for months.

“And then Leo said-” Jason was cut off by thalia’s fellow maiden Phoebe, rushing towards them, yelling for thalia.

“Lady Thalia, lady Artemis is heavily in need of your assistance immediately!” Phoebe said panting. Thalia frowned and her eyes apologetically turned back to Jason. “I'll be there” she told her fellow huntress, before giving Jason a strangling hug. “I'm so sorry Jason, we'll talk later yeah?” Jason swallowed his disappointment after he saw how truly apologetic Thalia looked. “Of course, stay safe for me?” Thalia smiled sweetly and nodded at that before trudging up the path.

That was the last time he had seen of Thalia in months, and there was only one way to settle this. Jason decided to send in letters to his sister, that way, she could read it and keep them with her, and he could tell her everything without getting interrupted by anyone. He soon learnt to cherish this hobby alot. He loved his sister, and writing to her gave him a warm sense of comfort. He needed that, especially after Leo's death.

“Dear Thalia,

How have you been sis? I hope your mission with Phoebe to help Artemis went well! It's been pretty tough lately. My nightmares are plagued with pictures of mom. I know you of all people would understand how horrific that feels. I miss Leo, and piper's been acting a little strange around me lately.. but Leo's disappearance is taking a toll on her. So I get it. Nico is finally staying in camp half blood, isn't that great?? That boy deserved a break for once. Anyways, write back if you can, but if you can't, that's fine, I know you're busy.

–love, your annoying little brother.

Weeks, and months flew by, but still no response from Thalia. But he knew better than to take it seriously. Jason knew that she had gotten the letter, and that was enough for him. Well, that was enough, until things went downhill for him very quickly. Piper had approached him in the school corridor and thought it was a great day to end their year long relationship, shattering Jason's soul to pieces, this, coupled with the immense amount of pressure he had to build the minor god shrines, Jason felt numb, and he did what he usually did. He poured his heart out to Thalia in another letter, seeking comfort in his ink and paper. Longing for thalia’s presence once more.

“Dear Thalia,

it's me again, I hope you're doing good, atleast better than I am. I've been feeling terrible lately, Piper ended things with me, i guess we finally know why she was acting the way she did around me, huh? She said our relationship was only hera’s illusion and didn't feel that way about me anymore, which sucks, since I'm still very much in love with her. The pressure has increased tenfolds on me these days, the minor gods are heavily anticipating the promise I told them I'd keep. I'm planning on moving schools so i don't have to deal with the heartbreak of seeing Piper in school anymore. Anyways, I just wanted to write to you since it makes me feel better. Sending you lots of love from California.

— love, Your annoying little brother

Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. Months.

Jason knew. The moment the sibyl told him about looking for the third emperor. Jason knew, that his doomsday was going to knock on his doorstep very soon. He was going to sacrifice himself for Piper. And nobody was changing his mind. Jason stared out his dormitory window, the outside mortal world looked a little too cheery for the melancholic thoughts that were chasing his mind. He averted his gaze to the person in the picture frame hanging at his wall. Thalia had always been too busy for him. They had never had a proper full conversation together, one on one conversations getting disrupted, iris messages wearing out within a few minutes, even his letters never got a reply, or even a single acknowledgement.

Yet jason knew, that Thalia Grace was the only one who loved him more than anything in the world. She didn't have to spend time with him for him to know that. He knew by the way she had only left their childhood home after Jason was deemed “dead”, he knew by the way she had picked a two year old jason up after he injured his mouth with that stapler,he knew by the way she played hide and seek when they were little, he knew by the way she had told no one about him, not even annabeth, since he was a memory that she held close to her heart. So subconsciously, his hands wrapped around the pen he always used to write with. With shaky hands, and teary eyes slowly dripping in the paper, he began to write.

Thalia was resting on the rocks, thinking of how Jason was doing, she had recieved all his letters and read them through atleast 2 times. She wanted to respond, but it kept slipping her mind. Something had always come up, but now, she was finally free. Just as she was about to pick up her pen, she heard her name being called.

“Thalia!”

It was Reyna. She was holding an envelope, Thalia’s spirits skyrocketed at the thought of her brother sending her another letter. But.. why was it being sent through Reyna..? It was usually always sent by Jason's wind manipulation. Those letters would float towards her. That's how she always knew it was from her brother.

She was expecting Reyna to tease about Jason's cheesy letters to his sister, but what she wasn't expecting, was for Reyna to start sobbing on the spot, breaking out the news that her younger brother was dead.

Jason. Her little stapler eating brother. Was dead.

“This was found by Meg in Jason's desk.” Reyna shakily handed Thalia the envelope. It was a blue envelope, the usual colour that Jason always sent to her. And on top of it, was his smudy handwriting that Thalia could recognise from a mile away. The letter was signed “To Thalia Grace”.

Thalia opened it carefully but tears were leaking out of her eyes.

“Dear Thalia,

there's something that I've been keeping for a while now, but I know it's finally the time to tell you this. I met the sibyl in the labryinth who had told me that my life would be cut short. if went looking for the third emperor, Caligula, either me or Piper would be killed. There's no point denying the inevitable is going to happen. Prophecy's can never be thwarted, after all. I've made my choice, I'm not letting Piper die. I've decided that I am going to use myself as a sacrifice. I'm writing you this, to let you know, that, I love you. I love you so much sis, I hope you know that. I know we've never got to see eachother much, but I don't want you blaming yourself in any way for this. I hope you know that, writing to you, even without a response from your side all these months, has helped my life feel a lot more meaningful. the mere thought of you taking the time to read my letters makes me feel so loved. So happy. Now that I know that I might be meeting my end, I'm letting you know, that I've cherished every single thing you've ever said to me. Including the fact that you hate tomatoes on your sandwiches. Take care of yourself, sis, I'm always with you.

— love, for the last time, your annoying little brother :)

Thalia clutched the letter with her heart, screaming in agony. Thunder boomed angrily overhead, almost as if her father could feel her rage. Her heart strings were tearing apart. She sobbed, as she looked up at the blue sky, the same blue as Jason's darling eyes.

“I love you too. My annoying little brother, always”

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xx-lemon-drop-xx · 1 year

Note

Bestiiieeeee hiiiiiiii!!!!!

May I request some kink headcanons for Jack, Loki, Hermes, Poseidon, and Hades please? Thank youuuu!! Love you bestieeeee!!!

WORMYYYYY <3

Hi Bestie :3

Warnings: Spit kink, Thigh riding, knife kink, mentions of blood, Size kink, choking, bdsm, Degradation (Use of words such as whore, slut.) Gn reader, ooc ror characters.

Request: Yes.

Words: 1,211

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Jack The Ripper

Jack is into some… Pretty intense shit I feel. Though that also comes with being a murder, I don't think he can be with someone that simply just likes vanilla.

He definitely has a knife kink. Let him drag that blade down your skin and watch the cripples of red that come to the surface. You look so much prettier in red, after all.

Let him lick the blood off of you, tongue dragging across all of the sensitive crooks and crannies of your body. He'll bite and suck pretty red marks all over your body, worshiping you thoroughly.

Jack has a thing for choking you during sex. His thrusts are hard and fast too, though he makes sure to reach all of the right places.

He enjoys when you crawl on top of him to initiate anything intimate. If he's buried in a book just gently push him back and crawl on top of him. Straddle his hips and trail your fingers over his chest, he'll be hooked onto you.

He does enjoy some bondage. He likes seeing you all tied up and pretty for him.

If you're being too loud he won't hesitate to shove his fingers down your throat and choke and gag you on them. Be good for this Pretty little Psycho, okay?

Loki

Another one that's into pretty intense shit.

Have you ever had sex while in the air before? Because with this God that's exactly what's going to happen.

You better be able to shut your mouth because he just loves doing it in public. If you get caught he isn't stopping later. He'll tease and call you names, showing you off to whoever caught you in the moment.

He's the definition of a sadist. You will be his cock sleeve. He's another one that enjoys choking the daylights out of you.

Every wonder what that long tongue of his can do? Nothing not sinful, I'll tell you that much. He's able to reach so deep into that hole of yours. If you're not squirming and writhing under him he's not stopping.

He's as Much of a Dom as he is a Bottom. Loki is the complete definition of a switch.

He's very whiny when he's a bottom. Be careful with him, he's sensitive. (Don't be careful with him.) Twist and pull his nipples, bite him, absolutely demolish him, he loves it.

He's very much into denying you of your orgasm as much as he's into you denying him of his orgasm.

Hermes

Has more vanilla than the rest but he can still be rough.

He likes hard slow thrusts that make you squirm. He does like going around 2-3 rounds before he's tired out and wants to sleep.

He will push your mouth open and spit into it. Praise him. Worship him. He is your God. He is your everything. Thank him for spitting on you. Thank him for calling you names.

Speaking of names, he will degrade you with a mixture of praise. Though, it is more degradation than praise.

Hands down the best at After care. He'll massage you, he'll get you drinks, he'll draw a bath for you. Just let him pamper you please, it's what he does after being so rough with you.

Please cock warm him. He enjoys being inside of you while reading or relaxing in general. Zeus usually has him running in circles, treat this gentleman well.

Not only is sex love making to him but it's also a type of stress relief for him. Hermes is always wound up in some way.

He will have quickies, though he does prefer being in the bedroom more than anything.

Poseidon

The King of domination. Be scared for your weeping hole, this God is huge in size.

Definitely has a size kink. He enjoys seeing your stomach bulge by the mere size of his cock. You'll catch him pressing down on the bulge or just caressing your stomach in general.

He's very heavy on degradation. If you can't take hard core heavy name calling its best not to be in a relationship with you.

Poseidon also likes cockwarming. He'll have you sitting on his cock for hours and everytime you wiggle even slightly he adds more time to it. It's best to just obey his orders.

Rough sex is always sex with him.

Rut on his thigh like a bitch in heat, or if he is in a punishing cruel mood perhaps he'll have you rut against his shoe.

Don't forget to lick it clean afterwards.

Definitely into Bdsm. He's not going to be nice to you, either. He thrusts hard and fast and your body will be sore in the morning. You will be leaving scratch marks on his back when he goes down on you.

But that's okay, Poseidon likes pain.

Hades

The King of Big dick himself?

Definitely has a size kink, have you seen the bulge in his pants? He probably has the biggest cock out of the gods, he loves seeing your stomach bulge as he bullies his cock inside of you.

Hades always makes you feel like your filled to the absolute brim, though that's because you literally are. But that's okay, he'll mold the shape of his cock into you so it'll be nice and comfortable.

Likes Cock warming. Hades always has loads of paperwork to do and with his brother's shenanigans on top of it he's stressed. Just be nice and sit on his cock for him while he completes paperwork, he'll reward you nicely afterwards.

Another one that's onboard with Thigh riding. He'll help you rut your hips against his thigh until you're whimpering and moaning into his shoulder limp as hell.

He's much more vanilla than most of the other gods, though that doesn't mean Hades doesn't like to be a bit experimental.

Bestie Bonus: Shiva

Another big dicked bitch.

Once again this man has a size kink, he likes seeing you struggling to take in his size. This man also has a pretty dick, you know all the lines on his body? They're on his dick too. And there's a large pretty vein that goes all the way down the back of it.

He's thicker than he is longer.

He has four arms for a good reason. The way he can maneuver you around is amazing, and it's never a struggle to get you in all the correct positions he wants you in.

He'll lay back and let you do whatever you want to him on the lazier nights, but don't get too cocky, he's still a Dom through and through.

He'll spit in your mouth and look cocky while doing it. Shiva also loves leaving marks all over your body.

He'll worship your thighs. Literally. Leaves bites, Hickey's, and all types of marks on your thighs.

If you have a voice kink it's your time to Shine. Shiva loves whispering in your ear during sex, telling you how much of a whore you are, or a slut you are. How beautiful you are under him like this.

#gn reader #x reader #record of ragnarok #ror shiva #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror heracles #ror jack the ripper #ror loki #ror smut

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darkeraurora · 4 months

Text

Admissions - Chapter 10

NSFW - Word count: 8638

First of all, thanks to everyone who read, liked, and reblogged the previous chapters!!

This isn't quite what I wanted it to be, but we're moving and life is about to get really hectic. So I didn't want to wait months longer to post this. I'll probably go back and add to it later after our move. Make it jucier.

The corridor outside was bustling with people heading to their barracks for the night. Simon, for once unperturbed by their racket, paced the length of their room while he waited for Sereza. The Brit kept sneaking little peeks at the drawer of his bedside table, then over to the door, and back again.

Internally he fought to maintain his resolve that his past wouldn’t interfere with him showing Sereza how much he loved and desired her. Not anymore. But unpleasant memories were especially loud in his head tonight. The past had already robbed him of so much, and Ghost was trying his damndest to draw the line at it threatening to take Sereza and this chance at happiness from him as well.

Still unnerved and his stomach twisted into knots, but he kept repeating Sereza’s words in his mind: he had her full permission to touch her as he wished but also, he didn’t have to force himself into anything physical to keep her love.

Rationally Simon knew he had nothing to worry about; they were both looking out for each other just like she had said some time ago. He was her priority just like she was his.

Ghost just had to argue with his trauma-ravaged brain about the whole thing first. That obstinate fucker.

Walking over to the small table, Simon opened the drawer and pulled out his black bandana. The fabric slid through his fingers, catching occasionally on the rough edges of tiny scars and callouses. A bit of silver in the drawer caught the Brit’s eye. One of her earrings. She hadn’t wanted to sleep with them still on last night and this morning she’d run off in a hurry after being paged, so they remained in the drawer. Dwarfed in his hand, Ghost held one of the small jewels.

The tiny thing a physical reminder of her that calmed his racing mind. He exhaled deeply. The suffocating weight of his anxiety and apprehension gradually ebbed.

He could do this.

XXXXX

“Remember your safe word?”

His beauty nodded, “Gummy bears.”

After some snickering on both sides over the word’s silliness, Simon laid the blindfold over her eyes and secured it behind her head. Ghost searched what he could see of her expression for the smallest indication of reluctance or unease, but found only a bit of tightness in her body language. Nothing more. “You alright Love?” he checked, sliding his palms down to her shoulders. Sereza didn’t hesitate to give him a nod and a small smile in response to his question. Once more Simon found he was thoroughly humbled by the amount of trust his girlfriend was showing she had in him.

But Ghost stood rooted to his spot as he regarded her. A feeling of deep dissatisfaction enveloped him.

This was wrong.

The Brit sighed unhappily and reached back behind her golden curls, gently tugging the bandana off again.

He was met with a very confused look. “I can’t do this,” Simon shook his head. “This, I mean,” he quickly clarified, gesturing with the bandana before flinging it onto his desk. “For a lot of reasons but mostly it’s… I hate the idea of you forcing yourself to do something you might not want to because of me. And I can’t- I can’t handle the thought of making you feel like a body I’m just… using.”

Sereza rested her palm under his jawline. “You love me, right?” Ghost nodded without hesitation. “Just like I love you. I’ve never felt anything but safe with you Si, but if that feels wrong to you then we won’t do it,” Sereza smiled up at her ghost with an expression of pure adoration. “You really do have a beautiful heart Simon.”

Ghost cupped his hands around Sereza’s face as he leaned down to kiss her. Relishing how it felt to be like this with his little one. To be loved. Wanted. “You are everything good in my life. And if I’m going to show you how much I love you then I want to do it the right way,” Simon told her fervently before taking her lush lips in another ardent kiss.

Her small moans and warming body were already making his blood rush. Not toward his brain.

Rather quite the opposite.

Simon pulled Sereza’s hips snuggly against him as they deepened their kiss. Her back sensually arched into him. But as it often did with everything else, his mind decided to ruin the moment by interjecting an itty-bitty detail he hadn’t thought of until now…

“Fuck!” Ghost snarled as he whirled around away from her.

“What’s wrong?”

Simon ran his hand over his hair in aggravation as he turned back to Sereza. “I hope this doesn’t come across wrong, or like I’m fucking stalling – because I’m not; or not trying to at least– but… I don’t have condoms… and I don’t want to uh, uh…”

“…to get me pregnant,” Sereza finished for him.

“Mhm,” the Brit replied sullenly. This made him sound, again, like he only wanted to use her body to satisfy his needs and didn’t know how to communicate what he meant without sounding like a complete asshole. Simon’s mind began racing at the growing tension within him, making it that much harder to put his thoughts into words. “I don’t want to cause something that will impact your life and career like… that… Not that I wouldn’t be there!” he hurriedly explained, “I-I would, it’s just-”

“Si,” the petite female tried to interrupt.

“-Fucking hell Love, I don’t know how to say what I mean properly, I just don’t think that’s a good idea right now-”

“Simon,”

“-not for either of us. And I’m not a good choice for… for that anyway. I know I fucked up and I should’ve thought of condoms. I’m so sorry, but I promise I’ll fix this-”

“SIMON.” Ghost’s rambling finally halted at her shout. With a guarded expression, he stared down at her like he was expecting an excoriating scolding over his mistake. Sereza picked up his hands and held them between their chests. “First of all, take a breath mi amor.”

Huffing out a held breath, Ghost forced his shoulders down from under his ears. Again. He couldn’t believe he forgot about those. The possibility of… tonight’s events… had his thoughts flying through his head in a hundred directions at once, so much so that he’d completely forgotten about protection. What in the bloody hell was wrong with him?

Actually… he didn’t want to think about that just now. That was a long list.

“Si… I’m on the pill. Not for, um, this exact reason; it’s to better regulate my hormone levels. I’ve been on it for about three years.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” Sereza said as she pulled a small white plastic case from her pocket. Simon glanced down at the case she showed him with tiny pills rattling around inside. “I was actually just about to interrupt things to tell you that before we went any further – if you still wanted to try tonight, I mean,” she hastened to add.

“Oh. I see.” So… he hadn’t ruined it. They could still-

Ghost exhaled, letting his head hang as he closed his eyes, the last remnants of his momentary panic fading away. Good god he was a mess.

Sereza giggled slightly at his evident relief, Simon soon joined in with her, resting his forehead on top of hers. “You don’t need to apologize for mistakes or things that aren’t your fault mi amor. And I’m not ready for a baby either,” his beauty went on to say. “Maybe one day, but not right now. We can discuss little Simon Rileys another time, but for tonight our focus is us, yeah?”

‘Little Simon Rileys’… warmth filled Ghost’s heart. “…Yeah,” he agreed, smiling down at the face of his love. The unbidden image of Sereza pregnant with his baby, himself as a father, flashed across his mind’s eye and Ghost had to admit, he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea… one day. Maybe.

‘One day’ just didn’t need to be nine months from tonight.

He’d never envisioned his future before or entertained the idea much. The Brit had just been existing until he met this woman who brought meaning to his dark life. And building a family hadn’t crossed his mind at all. However the thought of planning for the future – a future together – with the woman he treasured felt so… natural.

“You’re right Love, another time.” Simon bent his head down, kissing his beauty and feeling immeasurably grateful for her ability to break him out of a spiral. Holding her tenderly, he kissed her harder, appreciating her taste. Sereza tilted her head back to give him better access to her mouth while his large hands wandered down, tracing the contours of her chest, to grasp the hem of her shirt. After a quick glance back at her making sure she was alright, Ghost carefully tugged it up over her head. Dark eyes focused on the black lace bra concealing her from his view. Not wanting to pounce on Sereza like some lust-driven arse, his fingers skimmed over her shoulders, across her collarbones, and up the column of her neck. “You’re so stunning,” he whispered against her as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, “Can I take it off?”

Sereza nodded but guided his hands behind her this time as she pressed closer to his chest. Curious at what his love was showing him, Simon peered over her shoulder.

Bloody hell, did all of these things have such absurdly tiny hooks? And did they all fasten in different places?

It took an annoyingly long time with his wide fingers but at last the hooks came loose. Straps hanging loosely around her figure, Simon ran his palm up and down her bare back as he nibbled her ear. Dainty hands pulled needily at his sleeves. Soft breaths of satisfaction reached the Brit’s ears. The feel of her skin, her scent, and sounds… his little one was already inundating his senses and he only had her half-naked. Barely, even.

Sereza shrugged the straps off her shoulders and let the bra drop to the floor. Feeling her movement, Ghost gazed down at her unclothed chest, exploring hands eagerly getting to work as he gently kneaded. Twisting the dusky peaks, making her moan louder for him. Without removing his hands from his beauty, Ghost backed up until he could sit on the edge of the bed. Simon pulled her closer, tugging gently on the back of her thighs, until she knelt on either side of his legs. The height brought Sereza’s breasts to the perfect level. “Beautiful,” he hummed low in his throat as his mouth closed over her nipple. Sucking. Licking.

He groaned at the taste of her skin and decided it had been far too long since he last spent time with Sereza like this. Worshipping and loving her as she deserved. A whole 24 hours since he'd last enjoyed time alone with his love - an intolerable injustice he vowed to rectify once he got past this. Tonight.

Above him, Sereza began to whimper and squirm. Simon abruptly switched to her other breast, carefully closing his teeth over the firm peak and making her bitten-off moans grow louder. Left arm around her lower back to keep her close, Ghost’s right hand splayed across her thigh before venturing upward until it came to her center. Fingers grazed over the hot, damp fabric, almost making her whine. His thumb pressed to her most sensitive place.

“Ohhh God… Si…,” she panted as she pressed her hips lower, seeking more.

Sereza’s pleasured sounds overrode the traumatized part of his brain, Ghost pulled her down onto his hand, almost aggressively, fingers firmly rubbing in circles, making Sereza buck in response. He removed his hand and pressed her down onto his covered erection by her hips, breath catching at the feeling of her through the fabric of their pants. Her warmth alone was enough to make heat start building within him.

Ghost licked up her chest and neck until he latched onto her pulse point. Sucking hard. His free hand reached around her hip to squeeze her backside. Sereza began rolling her hips while her nails sunk into her Brit’s hoodie. Parting from her throat, he observed his little one. Her head was thrown back as her hips moved slowly over Simon’s, creating a delightful friction for them both. For a moment the lieutenant simply watched, mouth slightly open. Her stunning body twisted and curved as her pelvis worked against him. When her chest moved closer to his lips, Ghost’s tongue flicked against the swell. Sereza mewled and ground her center firmly over his cock.

Growling, Ghost flung Sereza onto the bed before settling over her and kissing her like a man starved. Rising onto his knees, he hastily shed his too-warm hoodie. Dark eyes hungrily took in his half-naked beauty lying in his bed and was struck by the sight of such perfection.

As well as the contrast…

Simon was a man of war; Sereza was an angel. She saved and bettered lives; all he did was end them. A harbinger of violence juxtaposed against a spirit of mercy. A dream come true, and someone’s worst nightmare. Good… and evil?

Ghost sighed inaudibly as he sunk to his elbows, averting his eyes, and dropping his forehead to her chest. Loving arms held him close. “Mi amor?” Sereza whispered as she kissed over his hair, “I’m here with you. Come back to me, my love.” Ghost snuggled into her a bit at her soft call. Letting her voice break through his thoughts.

Despite his reputation, his prowess as an elite soldier, the slightest shred of tenderness from this tiny slip of a woman and the legendary Ghost would crumble to kneel at her feet. Sereza already knew everything about him – all his flaws, faults, traumas, and weaknesses – and accepted him anyway, just as he was. Simon was beginning to understand… even believe, that in her eyes he was worth something. Worth being cared for.

Butterflies in his stomach and heart unbelievably full, Simon lifted his face and took her lips in a kiss full of profound affection. Thanking his lucky stars for this woman having come into his life.

Wrapping an arm underneath to grip the back of her neck, his cock ground against her warm core. Simulating what was to come. Hazel eyes drifted closed at the sensuous friction. “Eyes open sweetheart,” he prompted with a small shake of her neck, “Let me see you Love.”

Sereza complied, though with considerable difficulty. Simon’s rocking hips hit all the right spots, making heat pool low in her stomach and amber eyes glaze over.

A smirk drew the corner of his mouth up. “That feel good, sweet girl?” If the wetness seeping through their clothing was any indication it very much did, yet he wanted to hear her express it. Sereza’s eyebrows knitted together as she nodded enthusiastically. She clawed at his shirt with increasing fervor and without warning, Simon broke contact and sat up on his knees. Sereza bemoaned the sudden lack of his touch. The Brit chuckled at her complaining and gazed down at his love. Partially naked, wet, and her skin flushed. Waiting for him.

But his stomach was churning.

Wanting to push on rather than give in to rampant thoughts that threatened to bring everything about tonight to a standstill, Simon reached for the hem of his shirt.

And froze.

Ghost blinked hard, fighting the tunneling of his vision.

His little one came to his rescue again. “You look like you need to stop, Si. Do you?” She laid her hands over his still holding the bottom of his shirt.

Well – yes and no. While he was beginning to feel overwhelmed, Simon was also stubbornly determined to finally show Sereza how much he cherished her. Plus he was also fairly positive that if he stopped now his painful erection might actually kill him so… maybe if he slowed down some? While he got his mind right again?

Forcing down his trepidation, Simon affectionately stroked his knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek. “You’re so important to me, Sereza. I love you so much and I’ve wanted you so… so fucking badly all of this time,” he spoke, desire deepening his voice and making his accent more pronounced. “I want to be honest with you, and not keep things from you anymore. I don’t… I don’t know that I can do this, but I want to try. I just– I need to go slow. Really slow.”

She held his wrist near her face, caressing the back of his hand. “We will do whatever you say mi amor. As much or as little as you want and we will stop the second you say because you have complete control, okay?”

“…okay,” he whispered.

Sereza paused for a spell. It was obvious he wanted this, but the sheer amount of pain he held made this level of vulnerability terrifying. We need some safe boundaries. She would be crystal clear on what her ghost was comfortable with and he would know exactly where her hands would and would not go so it should, she hoped, reduce his anxiety. “Can you help me know where is okay for me to touch you?” she asked.

“Uh,” Ghost’s eyes flicked to the side. This felt weird. “Well, my shoulders and up is good. And my chest.”

“Like here?” she asked, lowering her hands down near his diaphragm.

Simon flinched away violently, “N-no…” She snatched her hands back instantly, holding them up.

He took a second; a few deep breaths, and closed his eyes. Sereza knew he’d been hung by the ribs, but she didn’t know where the scar from it was and had been precariously close to it. That was his fault; he should have told her. Simon brought her hand up and kissed it reassuringly – both for her, to show her she hadn’t done anything wrong and he was okay, as well as for himself. That it was Sereza that held and touched him this time. “Not quite that low. Please.”

“Arms?” Truthfully, Sereza already knew those were a safe, non-threatening place. She touched his arms all the time but reestablishing their safety didn’t hurt. Plus it was an excuse to glide her fingers over his tattoo sleeve, which Ghost often said was soothing to him. All-in-all, a good way to take the pressure off Simon’s mind so he could calm down.

“Yeah arms are good,” he straightforwardly answered.

“What about hips?” His little one’s hands hovered near his lower stomach without touching.

Simon’s eyes widened as he tried to discern how he felt about that one. She had touched him there before, and lower. But only twice – once while he covered her eyes and another accidentally while she was asleep. He enjoyed both instances immensely, but tonight though was altogether different. He would be fully exposed to her… someone would see and feel all of him for the first time since Roba had…

“Don’t,” Sereza finished for him quickly as she watched his abyssal eyes lose focus again.

“Yeah don’t,” he shook his head. Ghost’s gaze became hollow and his body stilled above her. A tell-tale sign he may be shutting down.

Time to try a distraction. Moving her palms over Ghost’s broad chest, Sereza purposefully skimmed over his nipples. Just barely. Only enough for the sensation to reach him through the fog.

Simon’s mind snapped back to the present. Her hands fisted into his shirt and gave the gentlest tug. “I really wanna kiss you,” she hummed, looking up at him through her lashes as she shifted closer to him.

Simon grinned, having caught onto her plan. For all the fuss that others made about how mysterious and hard to read he was, Sereza sure had an easy time of it. Effortlessly hauling him from the dark recesses of his damaged mind. The heart he’d once assured Johnny was cold filled with warmth at Sereza’s actions because it showed she truly saw and understood him.

Dipping his head low, Ghost's warm breath fanned over her plump lips. “What’re you gonna do about it then?” his gravelly voice teased.

His beauty raised an eyebrow before she shocked him by tugging him closer until her naked chest was pressed flush against his and licking up his neck to his chin, pausing a hair’s breadth from kissing him as if daring him to finish what she started.

Blood rushing southward once more, Simon seized her under the jaw and crashed their lips together. Boldy dominating her mouth. Small palms roamed over his shoulders, up his neck to his nape, and down again toward his pecs. Tingles pleasantly prickled across his skin. Ghost’s chest rumbled as he sighed, “Your touch feels good Love.”

Sereza grinned into their kiss. “I like touching you,” she murmured. She brushed over his nipples again, causing Ghost’s muscles to quiver at her touch. His breath caught. “You like that?” her quiet voice asked.

“Yeah,” his husky growl responded, “Felt… it felt nice.” No one had ever touched him like that before, and Ghost didn’t think he’d like it but he was pleasantly surprised.

Carefully observing his expression, Sereza softly ran her nails over them. Simon inhaled sharply, the sensation sending a searing heat straight to his groin. Distantly he wondered what other surprises she had for him; what else she might do.

Not tonight – he could only conquer so many inner demons at one time – but perhaps eventually. An exceedingly entertaining thought.

Deciding he was more than sufficiently distracted now, Ghost pulled her small body close. “What if I touch you?” he mumbled near her ear while lightly nibbling the sensitive skin below.

Sereza caressed down the planes of his hard chest. “Mmm,” she moaned, “Yes please.”

Kissing and licking his way down her olive skin, Ghost laid her down on the bed again, working his way down to her stomach. His fingers toyed with the top of her leggings. “Can I take these off?” he asked her throatily. At her consent, Simon sat back and tugged the snug leggings down. Tossing them uncaringly behind him, dark eyes took the view of his beauty. Caramel curls fanned out around her, nude except for a single small piece of clothing, legs shut and drawn up protectively. The image burned into Ghost’s memory.

As wild as the sight drove him, Simon could sense her nervousness. Which wouldn’t do.

Warm palms rested on her knees as he took in his love’s doe-eyed appearance, the hint of blush on her cheeks. “You’re breathtaking Love,” his deep baritone whispered. Rough hands mapped her small, lithe frame as he explored every inch of her. “So fucking beautiful.” Slowly, always, giving her ample time to push him away if she wanted to stop, pushing no further until they were both ready, his battle-worn hands slid down her sides, splayed over her stomach, and hooked into the lacey edge of her panties. Simon paused and glanced back at his little one. Sereza lifted her hips, so Ghost tugged the black lace down along her smooth legs before dropping them over the edge of the bed.

Once again, Sereza’s legs pulled up close to her hips. Simon rubbed his hands over her thighs while leaving tiny kisses on her bent knees, giving her time. Feeling her muscles begin to relax, he lightly pressed against the insides of her knees, encouraging her to open for him while keeping his eyes on her for any sign she wanted to stop or was uncomfortable. His beauty hesitated only a breath of a second before relenting.

And allowed Ghost to spread her legs.

His midnight gaze adhered to the wet slit on full display for him. “Fuuuucking hell,” her ghost rasped as he at last had his first look at her, heart pounding out of his chest. “Holy fucking shit,” he breathed, the view having robbed him of most of his words. “Fuck… you’re so incredible, Gorgeous.” Attention entirely absorbed by her sex, the Brit’s hand absentmindedly dropped to the enormous bulge in his pants, palming his covered cock.

“Si?” a soft voice called to him.

Ghost’s stare immediately broke at her call. Leaning back over her, they whispered sweet words back and forth to one another, calming one another. Physician or not, it was still her first time with a man. Only when the worry left her eyes did he return his attention to her body.

“Can I make a small confession?” he asked, continuing at her murmured assent, “I’ve never… pleasured a woman before.”

“So I get to be your first?” Sereza smiled up at her ghost.

He flashed a sentimental grin back at his little one, “Affirmative sweetheart.” Lowering his face, he trailed slow, meticulous nibbles and licks down her neck. His body resting between her legs, Ghost’s mouth made its way down to her chest, lavishing warm licks from one breast to the other. Taking time to suck at each before his large hands slid down the sides of her torso as he continued to work his way along Sereza’s body. Past her ribs, her navel, before finally reaching where he’d dreamed of being for the past months.

Gripping the back of her calves gently, Simon opened her legs further. The bright pink flesh stood out against her olive skin. Open and wet for him. “God… look at you,” he rasped. "So gorgeous, so wet..."

“All for you, my love.”

Ghost let out a deep, greedy growl, “All for me.” Lowering onto his forearms, he kissed along the inside of her thighs, relishing her small noises. Continuing to coat her tan skin in wet kisses, leaving subtle petal-shaped marks in his wake, he moved closer to the flushed pink lips of her core. Palms sliding underneath to grip the sides of her hips, Ghost lightly nipped at the skin around her center. Soothing the small marks with a lick afterward, listening as Sereza mewled with each nip of his teeth.

A tentative lick up her slit.

Sereza let out a loud gasp as her body arched up off the mattress. He licked her again and was rewarded with a similar response. She was already panting though he’d hardly done anything yet.

Craving more of her reactions, Simon’s hands spread her pink lips apart and his mouth latched onto the bundle of nerves above the dripping entrance. Sereza loudly moaned at the sensation but had the presence of mind to swiftly cover her mouth.

“Jesus,” he moaned against her wet flesh, “you taste so sweet.” His tongue delved into the tight hole, “… my beautiful girl, holy fuck…” Ghost wrapped his arms under her trembling thighs, holding her firmly in place as he unabashedly ate his fill of her.

Clawing fingers of her free hand sunk into her pillow, needing something – anything – to keep her grounded while Ghost feasted on her.

The noises he coaxed from his love, her mouth-watering taste, and the squelching sounds of a woman being pleasured were driving Simon out of his mind. Making him almost delirious with need. Without slowing down in his feast, the Brit angled his lower body so he could press his raging erection against the mattress to relieve some of the building pressure. Making him groan, which in turn made his beauty’s toes curl when the vibrations radiated through her.

Lifting his head, Ghost took in Sereza’s heaving chest and curls tousled from all her writhing. Expression blissful as she panted from what pleasure he’d given her thus far.

With a deep inhale, he sat up and lifted his shirt swiftly over his head. Dropping it beside him – close by just in case his mind decided to act up again. He was absurdly appreciative Sereza still had her eyes closed for the moment. Leaning back over her, Simon cupped her face tenderly, raining small kisses along her jawline and cheek.

Sereza turned toward her ghost, nuzzling against his profile. Hands trailed up his biceps until she paused once she came to his shoulders. Honey-colored eyes, dazed and curious, opened when she felt only warm skin instead of a shirt.

His eyes scarcely concealing his uneasiness, Simon didn’t dare breathe while he waited for her reaction to the feeling of his mutilated skin. ‘I will still love you and be with you regardless’ she had said. Fucking hell he hoped that was true.

Half of his brain had faith in his little one and all the care she had demonstrated for him thus far, while the other half screamed at him to put his shirt back on, convinced that his girlfriend would be as repulsed by his appearance as Simon was himself.

Sereza’s fingertips brushed across muscled shoulders, his neck, and back down again, slowing at the collarbones and feeling the countless scars of war and torture, both deep and superficial. Meanwhile her ghost was motionless. A massive unblinking statue looming above her. Clearly fighting an internal war with himself. Wrapping him in her arms, Sereza began kissing everywhere she could easily reach. Along his cheek and jaw, just as he had done with her moments ago, then over his adam’s apple and down the scarred flesh to the notch at the base of his throat. Humming appreciatively.

The static filling his mind retreated at her actions. Burying his face into her curls, he exhaled a shuddering breath and wrapped an arm across her back, holding Sereza to him in a firm embrace. Silently thanking every heavenly being in existence that his beauty didn’t hate him.

Ghost’s blood quit pounding in his ears now that his clearing mind was focused on the naked woman dwarfed below him. He could feel his shaft beginning to strain against his sweats and boxers again; the short-lived anxiety having wilted his arousal somewhat. Still supporting her back, Ghost’s other hand pinned her hips to the bed as he began to grind his cock against her core.

Sereza’s fingers found his on her hip and curled around them as she moaned. Their foreheads touched, eyes staring into each other’s, heavy-lidded, breath mingling as they began to pant from the building pleasure. “Si-Simon,” came a breathy call, “does that… feel good?” she asked. Attempting to keep him present and grounded in the moment with her.

Ghost’s eyelids fluttered closed as he nodded, breathing heavily. Eyebrows knitted together and a light sweat coated his skin from the effort of holding himself back from ramming his throbbing cock into her. The feeling of Sereza naked in his arms, grinding his sensitive erection against her heat, and listening to her voice would make quick work of him before long.

But one more thing had to go first.

After a kiss full of reverent adoration, Ghost swiftly sat up and pushed the sweats and boxers down from his waist.

Sereza gasped as the bulbous tip of his cock peeked over the waistband. Eyes widening and her mouth falling open as more of Ghost’s thick shaft was revealed to her for the first time. Several dark veins standing out against his pale skin and an impressive amount of girth. The darker head pointing at her, seemingly pleading for attention.

Her small hand reached out, pausing halfway between their bodies as she looked up at her ghost towering above her. Simon gave her a subtle nod but it didn’t seem to her that he was truly consenting willingly. But rather forced. And Sereza didn’t want him to force himself. Not through this. Adjusting her approach, her hand rested on the middle of his stomach instead, just above his navel.

Abs involuntarily flexed under her touch and Simon inhaled sharply through his nose. Abyssal eyes flicked between his love’s face and her hand on his stomach as he tried to determine what she was doing, not understanding until she moved downward a few centimeters while holding eye contact with him.

She was asking permission. Giving him an opportunity to say no if he wanted. To decide for himself what happened next.

Such a considerate and caring action stunned him. Another reminder of how safe he was with his little one. Nothing would happen that they didn’t both want. Ghost sidled up a bit closer and picked up her hand from his stomach, bringing it to his lips to kiss the wrist in gratitude. “I’m okay Love,” he whispered with a small tender smile, looking down at Sereza over her knuckles, “you can touch me.”

No way Simon was turning back now after coming this far. Guiding her wrist down, he brought her hand to his cock where she curled her dainty fingers around his length. Just as he had the first time, he dropped his hand and allowed her to explore him at her own pace.

A low groan vibrated out of his chest when Sereza tightened her grip and began moving her hand up and down in a firm stroke. Half-aware, Ghost’s hips pressed forward slightly, moving in time with her. When his sac began to tighten much too soon, he quickly and clumsily shed his clothing the rest of the way.

“Actually have… two confessions,” Simon panted, “I haven’t…” Fuck’s sake, he thought to himself, how in the hell should he phrase this? “Never, uh… finished with anyone.”

He'd seen to his partner's satisfaction, but not his own. He hadn't allowed himself to. It had been something too intimate for his mind to handle. Allowing someone to get too close. So he'd always finished it himself afterward.

Sereza’s bright eyes only shined back at him with all the love they always held. Never holding any judgment. Simon breathed a bit easier now that she didn’t appear put off by his admissions. “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed, and I don’t wanna do anything to risk losing you so… think about what you want when it’s time for… that.”

“You won’t lose me. Ever. But what about you? What do you want Si?”

Ghost shook his head and groaned again at a particularly pleasant stroke. “Doesn’t matter what I want,” he replied contrarily, looking down to watch her hand stroke him.

A conditioned response, she knew, and one she wasn’t letting go this time.

“Simon,” he stilled at her tone and looked back into amber eyes. “What you want absolutely matters. Especially right now. You have a voice in this too so please tell me, amor, what do you want?”

What I want matters… the Brit silently repeated to himself. Repairing all the damage from his past was arduous work, but Simon was learning that it was far easier when he listened to what his other half told him. He gulped, suddenly feeling oddly… shy… about what he wanted to say.

Though he’d sooner go jogging through a minefield than admit that out loud.

“I want,” Simon began, “…to finish inside,” he muttered, carefully scanning her features for signs of disgust. But it was the truth. He wanted the complete experience with her. Only with her.

“Inside?” Sereza asked.

Her ghost nodded almost imperceptibly with bated breath. Just as his nerves were about to get the better of him, to convince him he’d offended her, fucked everything up just as his father said he would, his beauty smiled and tightened her grip, thumb running over the slit on his tip and making Simon’s body jolt pleasantly. “I'd like that,” she purred seductively even as a light pink tinted her cheeks.

Simon blinked dumbly at her a second before huffing out a breath he’d been holding. Sereza smiled brightly at his obvious relief.

Sitting upright, Simon removed her hand and peered down between their bodies, taking a moment to relish finally being between her legs and admiring his view of Sereza from his height. Naked, wet, and spread open for him. Fucking hell she was lovely like this. Before his brain could interrupt their night again, Ghost lined up the tip of his cock with her entrance. “I’ll be easy. Yell at me or… something… if you need me to stop.”

His beauty nodded and opened her legs wider to accommodate his large frame. Holding himself with one hand, Ghost brushed his weeping cockhead over her, coating it in her arousal. With his other hand, he gently played with the swollen nub to coax more wetness from her body. He began sliding his heavy length along her slit to prepare them both for his intrusion.

Sereza wrapped her arms around him. Bracing herself.

Prodding gently, Ghost grit his teeth as he began to breach the small entrance. The sensation of just pushing his tip past the outer lips was wildly sinful.

Inch by agonizingly delightful inch, Simon penetrated her hot core. “Fuuucking hell you’re tight,” he gasped as he fought her inner muscles to push further inside. He knew she would be of course, but he hadn’t quite anticipated such a vice-like grip. The feeling of her warm walls slowly enveloping him had Ghost seeing stars. “Fu-fuck, god… you’re so… fucking small. Holy fuuucking hell, uughh,” his throaty baritone vibrated throughout his chest.

His cock and brain both demanded he hurry the hell up, but Simon held himself back – by the skin of his teeth – resolutely refusing to hurt Sereza before it was time. His advances halted when his tip prodded against something deeper inside her. Something in the way. A barrier… the Brit’s eyes widened, having realized he’d reached her maidenhead. “I… I feel it… fuck,” Simon rasped.

He held still, anxious. Once he moved he would break it. The woman he loved would be his, completely and forever just as he would be hers… but Simon would have to hurt her to do it. Dark brown eyes glued themselves to amber, wordlessly pleading. He didn’t even know what for but, just – damn it, something. Some miracle that would spare them both from the pain that was coming.

Sereza’s senses snapped back to earth at the feeling of her Brit no longer moving. “Talk to me, amor,” she whispered at seeing his overcast expression, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I-I don’t know that I can do this. When I… it’ll hurt you.”

His love smiled reassuringly while combing her nails through his blond waves. “It probably will some, but it doesn’t last very long and it’s not like what you’re thinking.”

“You’ll bleed.”

“Maybe. Or maybe not,” she said rather matter-of-factly. “Actually most women don’t. But even if I do, it’s only a little. Whatever happens Si, I promise you I’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure you want this? Me, as your first?”

Sereza pulled his head down for a deep kiss. Her fingers traced across a few scars on his face, “I will always want and choose you. Because I love you. But also, we don’t have to do this for me to still love you and stay with you.”

Tucking a curl behind her ear, he peppered small kisses across her cheeks and down her neck where he buried his face. “I love you too. So fucking much.” Holding her as close as he could manage, Ghost quickly thrust his hips forward, breaking through the barrier and bottoming out inside her.

Sereza yelped, her body stiff and trembling under him, nails digging into his back. Simon’s throat seized up at the sound of her pain. Cupping the back of her head, he screwed his eyes shut and pulled her closer to him, caging her small form within his arms as he whispered how sorry he was for hurting her. Something damp fell on his skin and Simon’s heart nearly shattered. His love was crying.

“I-I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t take this, her suffering because of him. Because of something he’d done. This was unconscionably selfish of him and now he’d hurt her, just like he always knew he would. She was hurting and crying all because of him and his fucking selfish desires.

Right when he was about to pull out and call the whole thing off his little one blew out a few deep breaths and her hands eased their death grip on his shoulders. Gentle arms now held him close just as they had countless times before tonight. Chancing a look at her, Simon lifted his head, fearful of what he might see.

Brilliant hazel irises met his midnight ones. No tears or traces of pain. “I’m okay mi amor,” she smiled, continuing with soft little assurances and his favorite head scratches when her ghost still seemed rattled.

“You cried,” he whispered hoarsely, “I made you cry...”

Sereza shushed him with small kisses, “It made my eyes water but no Love, I wasn’t crying.” Slender legs moved against his thighs and silken muscles fluttered along his hardness, making Ghost tense and hiss through his teeth. “I’m just fine mi amor, I promise. But could you maybe start slow? You’re kinda… big,” Sereza finished with a small laugh.

Blood pounding in his ears, Ghost nodded at her request. Whatever she wanted. Anything in the world, just as long as he didn’t have to see or hear her in pain ever again.

Only now, with his beauty calm, could Simon relax again and focus on the feeling of being sheathed within her body. The Brit couldn’t recall ever feeling anything so exquisitely perfect. All his dreams and fantasies didn’t do the goddess beneath him any justice at all. “You’re so beautiful,” he rumbled, each and every muscle in his body taut. “All the time but… especially like this. So gorgeous. So warm…” The hot walls flexed and hugged around his cock as if unsure whether to force him out or draw him in further. A sensation that made his erection throb excruciatingly and compelled him to begin moving. “You-you’re so wet… god… you feel so fucking good.”

Simon kissed her lips with all the passion he could as he embraced her small frame tighter. “You’re mine now. All… mine,” he growled, accentuating his words with the first movement of his hips. “I love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one has… been inside you. They don’t… get to have you,” Simon wheezed while he unhurriedly pumped in and out of her. Moving slowly as she’d asked. His love’s head pressed back against the pillow with a moan as Ghost drove his cock in. Filling and stretching her, forcing her body to open up for him. Each movement both gentle and intense. Knocking stilted breaths from her lungs with every snap of his hips against hers.

“Simon…,” Sereza whimpered between small uneven gasps.

The Brit hissed through his teeth. “Say it again,” his gravelly voice demanded.

“Simon…,” she bit down on her lip, “S-Si… more… please…”

Ghost stared. Did she just… beg?

Ohhhh he liked that.

Taking her lips in an ardent kiss, he picked up his pace. Feeling only too happy to oblige. His love groaned into the kiss. When the need to breathe forced them apart her mouth drifted over to his neck, just below his ear, before working its way down to his shoulder. Ghost’s heart began to pound. He increased his pace a bit more. Jostling her small frame and making her whimper against his neck.

Bloody hell she was responsive. While they drove him magnificently irrational with lust, Ghost didn’t particularly care for others hearing Sereza’s sounds. Those belonged to him. Only him. Combined with her working on his neck like she was, and how wonderful she felt wrapped around him, was bringing his orgasm on sooner than Ghost wanted. He wouldn’t allow himself to finish until his beauty did.

Removing her from his throat, Simon placed his palm over her mouth. “This okay?” Sereza nodded frantically back at him with bleary eyes. A look that made his cock throb. “My good girl… All… mine,” he ground out, punctuating his words with a hard thrust that made Sereza groan deeply and squeeze around his shaft. A low, carnal growl from Ghost’s chest shuddered through them both. “You like that do you? Like being my good girl?” Another strong squeeze at his words stole his breath, “Holy fuck, ugh!... I love feeling you clench around me like that.”

Restraint gone, Ghost’s pace and force increased.

Sereza’s thighs began trembling against his hips, telling him she was already close. His heavy sac began to draw up tightly; he wouldn’t last any longer either. Slipping a hand between their sweaty bodies, Simon began rubbing her sensitive flesh, causing her to wildly thrash from side to side. “That’s my sweet girl. Let me feel you… come for me, Gorgeous,” Ghost commanded as he lengthened his thrusts, every roll of his hips catching her sweet spot perfectly. “Be a good girl… come for me sweetheart.”

Dazed amber eyes rolled closed as her spine bowed off the bed while she cried out beneath his hand. Molten-wet walls clamped down on his shaft, causing heat to explode within his veins. Liquid fire shot through his every nerve and down through his cock as he buried himself to the hilt. Groaning loudly through bared teeth at each pulse. Giving a few small thrusts as he came.

Behind his eyelids, Simon’s vision flashed white at the intensity of emptying himself inside the woman he loved. A feeling closer to paradise than anything he’d experienced before. The gasping lieutenant withdrew slowly and sat back on his heels as he held Sereza’s knees apart to look down between her legs at his semen seeping out of her slit.

Holy shit…

A sight that would have made him come a second time if he’d had any left in him.

His woman, lying naked in his bed and looking thoroughly pleasured because of him, had Simon feeling ridiculously proud of himself. As well as ridiculously in love. Slinking back up her tired body, Simon’s thumb brushed over her lush lips before he tasted her sweet mouth once more. “God how I love you Sereza,” he sighed once pulling free from her lips.

“Mmmm… Yo también te amo, amado mio.”

Still winded from his orgasm, Simon chuckled weakly. “English, sweetheart,” he playfully groused.

Sereza mumbled random nonsense as she furrowed her eyebrows, trying to switch her brain back over. “I love you too, my love,” she murmured, finally able to string enough thoughts together to form an intelligible sentence.

“Say it again? The ‘I love you’ part?”

“Te. Amo,” she enunciated carefully.

“…Te amo,” Simon tried. Sereza tiredly nodded at his attempt. “Te amo,” he repeated confidently. If she had learned his language then it was only fair that he should learn at least some of hers. It also felt right that his first phrase was ‘I love you.’

“Sí, perfecto,” she praised with a peck on his cheek.

"Te amo Sereza, um… so much.” Sereza burst with giggles and Simon couldn’t help joining her, the melodious sound heaven to his ears and a balm to his soul.

“M-muchísimo,” she corrected, despite her giggle fit.

XXXXX

Sereza sighed softly as she woke up in her Brit’s embrace. Laying still for a moment as she relished the feeling of Ghost’s naked body spooned against her own unclothed one, arm draped over her waist and curled up by her chest. Even in his sleep, the massive arms held her both lovingly and protectively.

After some careful maneuvering, Sereza managed to turn herself around to face him. Between the weight of his arm and trying to not wake him, it was slow-going, but fortunately her ghost remained fast asleep. Idyllically handsome in the early morning sunrays coming through his window.

Tilting her gaze up, Sereza admired his peacefully sleeping face, his strong jawline, and how the morning sun hit his features just right. Simon deserved every moment of peace he could get; he’d more than earned it in her opinion. Honey irises scanned his broad chest as it steadily rose and fell with Simon’s quiet breaths, taking in every scar, every evidence of a past he’d fought to escape until she landed on the large scar at the bottom of his rib cage. The mangled gash left behind by the hook he'd been hung from, many shades darker than his alabaster skin. A reminder of unfathomable pain that stood out in stark contrast to the rest of him.

“It bother you?” a velvety baritone rumbled from above her.

The feeling of her breath hitting his exposed skin had woken him and he found her staring at the scar from where he’d been hung. Simon’s fear resurfaced tenfold as he watched and waited for her answer.

Sereza met his guarded, unblinking eyes staring back at her from where he still rested on his pillow before she turned away and pressed her lips against the middle of the scar. Trailing lingering kisses over the full length of the old wound.

Ghost couldn’t breathe or look away.

His little one showered the same attention on every scar she found as she kissed a path up to his mouth. “I love you Si. You, all that you are and just as you are.” Sereza knew it would take time for her Brit to believe those words, to let them replace the toxic words of his father and his own self-hatred, and she silently promised Ghost she’d be always there to remind him, no matter how many times he needed to hear it.

Cupping his face lovingly, they kissed with all the tender affection they could summon. She sighed against his lips once their kiss wound down, “Good morning Si.”

“Mm, yes it is,” the Brit smiled back as he caressed her bare back, loving the feeling of her naked body pressed against his own nude one. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you last night, did I?”

Sereza shook her head and smiled beatifically down at her ghost, “I’m wonderful. Just a bit sore is all.”

Being a virgin, Simon knew she would be, especially with how small she was compared to him, but it didn’t stop guilt from brewing. “What about you?” Her question drew Ghost away from encroaching dark thoughts, “How do you feel after last night?”

Simon pulled Sereza in for another long kiss. “Amazing, Love.”

XXXXX

It physically pained Ghost to watch Sereza’s divine figure disappear as she dressed, but responsibility called. The military still wanted things done, and regrettably they couldn’t spend the entire day naked in bed – no matter how much they both wished to.

For him, there were new operatives to train and his little one had patients to see. Not much either of them could do about it except sneak a quick goodbye kiss and go their separate ways down the corridor.

Ghost rolled his blackened eyes at the recruits’ ineptitude. He understood they were new and learning but good god climbing a half-wall should not be this fucking difficult.

His pocket vibrated and the Brit fished out his phone. Lucky for the recruits, the other lieutenant would have to handle them. A text from Price lit up the screen:

Need to talk to you. My office in 10. And bring your lady.

A towering skull mask opened the captain’s squeaky door and stood aside for the petite female to enter.

“Some… comments… were made to me about you two.” Price was speaking seriously and Sereza felt her chest become tight. Was the captain about to forbid Ghost from having a relationship with her?

Her own commander couldn’t care less about relationships as long as everyone still did their job and there wasn’t any drama, but had someone higher up in the SAS found out and ordered Price to intervene? Ghost was a valuable asset; did they not want him distracted or encumbered by a relationship? That would make sense…

Internally her every fiber began preparing to fight for him. No matter who or what rank she had to go up against, she would not give up Simon.

Perfectly attuned to his little one, a large comforting hand discreetly grazed across her lower back.

“You’re being moved,” Price said to his lieutenant. “Effective immediately.”

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ophelia-writes-fics · 5 months

Text

the thrill of the rush [martin whitly x reader - 18+]

You had always known that Martin wanted kids, but you hadn’t realized quite how badly until you’d agreed to start trying for one.

Tags (please read!): fem!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, lots and lots of praise, like so much praise, pet names, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (fem receiving), daddy kink, begging, mild degradation, rough-ish sex, a bit of biting, aftercare, weirdly soft and tender considering martin is a serial killer but honestly this could be read as an AU where he isn't

Word count: ~1.9k

CWs/TWs:

reader and martin are trying for a baby, but there's no in-depth discussion of pregnancy, and reader isn't pregnant (yet)

full disclosure, i'm only on episode 5 of prodigal son (but i've seen a ton of clips and edits) so if martin's a bit out of character i apologize. i tried to capture his softer, family-oriented side a little bit - i like it when he's scary, but sometimes a bitch just wants to be lavished with love, yk? <3

i'll write some really kinky shit with him later, i've got some fun requests, but for now, enjoy! (oh, and 10th doctor smut will be posted tomorrow, so stay tuned!)

You had always known that Martin wanted kids, but you hadn’t realized quite how badly until you’d agreed to start trying for one.

However, now that he had you pinned underneath him, practically bent in half, and was pounding into you with reckless abandon, you were starting to realize what exactly you were in for.

“Oh, f-fuck, please, Martin, s-slow down…” you begged, your hands scrambling for purchase on his forearms as your eyes rolled back from pleasure.

“Shh, darling, you can take it. You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Just lie there and let me take care of you,” he murmured before gently kissing your forehead and doubling down on his already brutal pace.

“Mnn…c-can’t take it…too much…” You shut your eyes tightly, thoroughly overwhelmed with pleasure.

He’d already made you cum twice by going down on you, then twice more while fucking you like this, and despite how overstimulated and sensitive your entire body felt, you were rapidly approaching another orgasm.

“You can and you will, sweet girl. I’m going to make sure you get just as much enjoyment out of this as I do, and if that means I end up making you cum a dozen more times tonight, then that’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to take it.” He pressed a series of desperate, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin on your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. Do you know what you do to me? What your body does to me?”

A particularly hard thrust made you cry out, and from the look in Martin’s eyes, you could tell that was exactly the reaction he was hoping for. His grip on your thighs tightened as he bent you further back, pinning you so that your knees nearly touched your shoulders, fucking you deeper than you’d thought possible. He leaned in close to whisper to you as he pounded you mercilessly, his hand moving between the two of you to rub against your hypersensitive clit.

“I’ve been waiting on this for ages, darling. I’ve been waiting -- fuck, you feel amazing -- waiting so long to have you like this, all mine for the taking, at long last.”

Martin groaned, closing his eyes as your cunt tightened around him. You opened your mouth to try and tell him you were getting close, that you needed him, that it was too much and not enough and you needed it so badly, but before you could speak, he pulled you close and kissed you passionately, a stark contrast to the absolutely brutal fucking he was giving you.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. “I know, sweetheart, I know, you’re so close, I feel it,” he purred, interrupting himself every so often to kiss you again. “I can feel how badly you want it. It’s all right, darling, let it happen. I’ve got you. I’m not going to stop for anything, I promise. Cum for me, baby, I know you can do it.”

You could barely even process the words coming out of his mouth, but still, your body obeyed his orders, almost instinctively. You couldn’t have held back if you wanted to, your desperate moan becoming a scream as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, leaving you trembling and whimpering for Martin to please, please slow down, it’s too much, even though you both knew full well that you could take it. He fucked you straight through it, only barely slowing down as you came, then picking up the pace again, thrusting into you with deep, hard strokes.

“Such a good little girl,” he praised, giving you that look you knew so well as he smiled at you; that thrilling, dangerous look in his eye that made you feel like a cornered prey animal, completely helpless and at his mercy, and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. His hand wandered to your neck and wrapped around it - not nearly hard enough to restrict your breathing, but enough so you felt the weight of it, so that you knew you were his and only his.

You practically melted beneath him at the feeling, letting yourself float away in the waves and waves of pleasure that never stopped. You lavished in his praise, in the feeling of his hands all over you, in the light graze of his beard against your face, your neck, your chest as he kissed you over and over again.

“Martin, please, I’m ready…”

He pulled back, fixing you with a look that betrayed his own desperation. “Ready for what, sweetheart? Use your words, I won’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.”

“I -- ngh! -- I want you to cum, please, I wanna feel it, I want…” you trailed off with a gasp as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

“What do you want?”

You moaned, barely able to string a coherent thought together, feeling yourself getting more and more lost in your fog of pleasure.

Martin grabbed your chin firmly, turning your face to him. “I said, what do you want, hmm?” His gravelly voice was like music in your ears. “Say it, sweetheart. Tell Daddy what you need.”

You stared up at him through blurry eyes, trying to focus on him in your fucked-out state. “I want…I want you to fill me up. I want to have a baby with you, Martin. I - I need it, please, I’m ready, I want - oh, fuck, oh my god, yes, right there…fuck, I - I want to have your child, please, I need it, Martin…”

That did it. Without even pulling out, he turned you over and quickly positioned you so that you were on all fours, pressing your face into the mattress with a deep moan that was almost a growl. He grabbed your hips hard, using them as leverage to fuck into you even harder, with shallow thrusts that hit the most sensitive places inside you, never pulling even halfway out.

“Oh, yes, that’s it, my filthy fucking girl. You want Daddy to breed you?”

He knew the answer, he’d known it since the beginning, that was what had started this past hour of overwhelming pleasure for you, but you knew that he wanted to hear you say it. He wanted you to beg.

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes! Please, please, I need it, please…”

“Ah, there’s my good girl. You’re so sweet, aren’t you? Begging like a whore for me to fill you up. There you go, let me hear you moan for it, let me hear how desperate you are for me to put a baby in you, come on…Mmm, such a good girl, lying there and taking it like the slut you are.”

You could tell from his tone of voice and the way his pace was starting to grow erratic that he was getting close, and you knew that you weren’t far behind him. You absolutely loved it when he got like this, dominant and possessive and half-mad with lust. You could barely hold yourself upright with how badly your body was shaking.

You felt his grip tighten on your hips, fingers pressing so hard into your soft skin that you were sure you’d have bruises tomorrow, and you whined desperately, the sound growing muffled as Martin shoved your face back into the mattress, his hand tangling in your hair and pulling slightly in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“God, you have no idea how hard it’s been for me to hold back, I’ve wanted to do this for so long…can’t stop -- oh, shit, darling, just like that -- god, I can’t stop fucking thinking about how pretty you’ll look carrying my child, how needy you’ll be for me for those nine long months,” he panted, voice shaking ever so slightly. You knew he meant every single word.

“I’m going to take such good care of you, my perfect girl. You hear me? Daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

He wrapped an arm around you, toying with your clit in a way that he knew would drive you over the edge at any moment.

“I’m going to take care of you just like I’m doing now. I’m going to make you feel so good that you’ll never want to leave this bed. You won’t have to. Just - oh, god - just say the word and I’ll be at your beck and call. But right now, what I need you to do is cum for me, because--”

His words broke off with a deep, feral moan before he collected himself enough to speak. “Because, my beautiful darling, I am getting so fucking close to cumming inside you, and I need to feel your needy little pussy take every drop I’m going to give it, do you understand me? I’m going to count down, and when I tell you to, you’re going to give me everything you’ve got, yeah?”

You moaned and nodded, feeling thoroughly drunk and light-headed with pleasure.

“Three…”

You felt yourself tighten around him as his fingers sped up against your clit.

“Two…”

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, so close, so fucking close…

“One…”

It was so much, it was all too much, you couldn’t hold back for even a moment more…

“Fuck, yes, there you go, cum for me, angel, cum for me!”

You cried out as your final orgasm of the night washed over you like a tidal wave, your throat feeling sore and raw, your body feeling electrified all over as shocks of pleasure coursed through every inch of you, inside and out. Martin had done the same as he came deep inside you, his voice rough as he moaned for you, panting hard, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he filled your cunt with his seed.

After what felt like an eternity, you collapsed onto the bedsheets as you came down from your high, unable to hold yourself up any longer. Martin laid down beside you, pulling you into his arms, holding you close as he wrapped you both in a blanket.

He pressed a kiss to your neck before resting his face against your shoulder, sighing contentedly. His arm was wrapped around you, his warm hand resting protectively against your lower stomach, right where you could still feel his cum inside you.

“You’re incredible,” Martin sighed, his soft exhale tickling the shell of your ear. “You did so well for me, sweetheart, you were wonderful.”

“Yeah?” You gave him a sleepy smile as you settled yourself into his embrace, floating in the afterglow.

“Mm-hmm,” he replied, and you felt him smile against the curve of your shoulder. “I can hardly wait until you start showing, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” He pulled you closer, playfully biting your neck as you giggled, then tilted his head upward to gently kiss your lips with a loving smile.

“Let’s get some sleep now, sweet girl. I know you’re tired, and you’re gonna need plenty of rest soon, hmm?”

You nodded, yawning and pulling the blanket tighter around the both of you before settling back into Martin’s warm embrace.

He hummed quietly, contentedly, and you felt the sound vibrate in his chest.

“Sleep well, my beautiful girl. I love you with all my heart.”

A/N: thank you so much for reading! if you have any other ideas, my requests are open, so ask away! and again, i've got another fic coming tomorrow, so be sure to check it out if you're interested. feel free to like, comment, rb, share, whatever you like :) love you all!

#prodigal son #martin whitly x reader #martin whitly #martin whitly smut #michael sheen #michael sheen smut #my fic

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liketwoswansinbalance · 3 months

Note

I had this thought for a while. What do you think would happen if Fall Rhian and Rise Rhian meet after time travel shenanigans? Their dynamic would be hilarious, with Rise Rhian being tense around his amused Fall self.

And for angst, Rise Rafal meeting Fall Rafal, who is mysteriously a ghost.

Hopefully this isn’t too far from what you’d wanted, Anon. I somehow ended up giving Rhian angst and only a little hilarity and Rafal hope along with his angst. During both fairly consecutive scenes, the brothers' future selves visit their past selves. This all would occur right after Rafal remodels his School in Rise but before he discovers Gavaldon in the timeline. Neither of the brothers know about Gavaldon yet, and they don't learn about it in this scenario.

And, in this timeline, Hook doesn't even get in with Rhian or manage to get hired as a probationary Dean of Good. He just directly poaches the students, and leaves right after the Vulcan incident. Essentially, what Hook did is claim that he's about to leave and bid Rafal goodbye after the battle, yet he doesn't leave, and instead, sneaks off with the students sooner than in canon. So, now, Rafal and Rhian are in the Schools, during the aftermath of the Vulcan incident, while Rafal does his remodeling and torture-marathoning. That is when their future selves decide to visit.

As for Ghost Rafal, he arrives from approximately thirty years into the future, after the ending of Fall, so he's been a ghost for some time, and has had the opportunity to reflect.

Also, some things here might later become part of a fic (although my fic's outline doesn't involve time travel like this.) Very interesting prompt, by the way. So thanks!

Lastly, before you read on, here's how I will differentiate between the characters:

"Rhian" = Rise Rhian

“Fall Rhian” = post-Fall Rhian, by about thirty years

"Rafal" = Rise Rafal

"Ghost" = post-Fall Rafal, by about thirty years

⸻

[In Good, Rhian is prepping for a lesson in his sunlit, glass-walled office.]

Fall Rhian: Hello, "Good" School Master, [a voice breezes behind Rhian as he is seated at his desk.]

Rhian: [stiffens and quickly spins in his chair, paling at a version of himself floating by the window sill.] You... are me. And you can fly?

Fall Rhian: You catch on quickly. [He pats Rhian's wild golden curls from above, condescendingly, like an angel to a stray worshipper.]

Rhian: [blushes] I—thanks, I, well, usually it's Rafal who does. I'm... the gullible one, as it turns out. [He hangs his head in shame.]

Fall Rhian: Are you?

Rhian: Well, yes, considering all the trouble I’ve caused. I suppose I’m fortunate Rafal’s forgiven me at all.

Fall Rhian: And what then? You’re content to be second all your life? You’re willing to let him claim he was the twin created better? [he provokes, prodding, goading his past self on as if with a hot poker, to stoke a certain dragon fire within.]

Rhian: Er… well, no. That wasn’t the first thing on my mind. I’m just… grateful to have been saved, even if… well, Rafal’s driven away my every chance of finding a companion or True Love outside of him. And, I can’t believe I’m admitting to this, but I don’t want to rely on him forever. I just wish that… that I could break away and be more—I don’t know—devil-may-care, like he is, free and unfettered. But I have to live by my values or I'll have nothing. I've already fallen, seeing as I've stepped out of line, endangered my young charges, and unleashed a tyrant on my poor Evers. I'm me. Useless and "whiny" and witless, guileless and impotent. Or that's what everyone thinks.

Fall Rhian: Good. Be careful what you wish for. You’re on your way.

Rhian: [puzzled] On my way to what?

Fall Rhian: To becoming me. [He grins, a slow, snake-like smile stretching across his face.] And you'll finally be cured of your pathetic crushes on men.

Rhian: [He decides to change the subject quickly, feeling thoroughly disturbed. This Rhian is practically a stranger!] How can you fly? That requires blood magic.

Fall Rhian: Guess whose blood it is. [His grin widens and he settles on the edge of the windowsill.]

Rhian: [blanches, staring at the dark, rusted stains on his future self’s armor] W-whose?

Fall Rhian: Your brother's.

Rhian: [frantically] Wh-what h-h-happened? [His teeth start to chatter as this odd version of himself radiates a dead coldness much like Rafal does, except it's a thousand times worse.] Who are you?

Fall Rhian: I'm you, and you're me. And I regret to inform you that—[He laughs.]—actually, I don't regret a thing!—that our brother is dead.

Rhian: D-d-dead? How? What happened to him?!

Fall Rhian: Us.

Rhian: I don't follow. Are you saying—

Fall Rhian: [nods, biting back another psychotic smile]

[A silence falls over them, as Rhian sobers, his face falling.]

Rhian: But why? How could I— [Then, he stabs out a finger accusingly, stirring from his chair, fingers twitching and spasming, as if he were to strangle this other Rhian, like he was about to lunge.] How could you! How could you do such a thing?

Fall Rhian: Ah, where to begin? Where to begin? Well, simple: a need for power, a restless soul, a desire for more. More than your miserable, lonely existence. Anything beyond being lesser than. Doesn't matter why. [he spat.] Don't you sense that restlessness within? Regardless, I'm here to tell you, you're on the wrong path. No matter how upset you are, avoid killing Rafal. Keep him alive.

Rhian: [heaves a sigh of relief. Perhaps, this version of himself would talk some sense into him and benefit from it himself as well.]

Fall Rhian: Just ensure that you're the One in power, and while he's alive, do whatever with him that you will. I really don't care what, as long as he doesn't interfere.

Rhian: [His stomach twists in on itself.] What do you mean?

Fall Rhian: Fratricide is Evil, isn't it? And you want to remain Good in the eyes of the Storian, don't you? If you don't kill him, well then, that's the mercy of your Goodness come to light, sparing a villain, sparing your own blood. So long as you don't directly kill him, you're golden. Just, keep him alive, in any condition, even if he has a broken leg, so you don't earn your true side a pitiful losing streak. There've been hundreds of tales so far, in my time, since I murdered our brother, and the wrong side now wins every time. You've already cursed the Woods for Storian knows how long, so don't make the mistake of killing him this time. Just... keep him. Lock him up. Paralyze him. Turn him to gold and use him as decor. I don't care. Whatever you do, don't kill him, and preserve the balance as well as you can. You'll find other means to an end that suits me—ahem, us.

Rhian: [doubtfully] I think I understand, but... you don't sound Good.

Fall Rhian: That's up to you to decide for yourself, according to your superior moral judgement, but we both know the Storian has the final say.

Rhian: [musing] True...

Fall Rhian: Good lad. You know what to do. Just think it all over. I wanted to let you know. You deserve to, as a favor from one Rhian, to another. Trust me. Trust yourself. [He bows smoothly. Too smoothly, like a sleaze. Like a Vulcan. Or the way Rafal did when he put on a manipulative, deceptively charming performance. He didn’t act like Rhian at all.]

[Then, the stranger disappears, vanishes into the smoke, dissipating, called back to his own time, tethered to a dismal future.]

[Rhian begins to spiral in the harsh light, stumbling around blindly like he's seen a ghost, trying to get a grip on something real, to ground himself after that encounter. He closes all the curtains in his office, whisking them shut with his sorcery, and wishes he were dead, curling up into a fetal position on the floor, utterly haunted.

That couldn't have been his future, could it?

But, soon enough, he hears the clock chime, and picks himself up, heading down to teach a class of Evers. He suspected Rafal was lounging in his office, watching his students’ torture, but he couldn’t deal with that now. He couldn’t stomach anything more, any lurid news.]

⸻

[Rhian was probably teaching a class, Rafal figured. He could leave his brother be. For now. To dwell on the consequences of his actions. Inviting a stranger into their School! What a farce. And Rafal always had to resign himself to the drudgery of cleaning up Rhian's messes. All that Rhian subjected him to—after a while, it became exhausting. Of course, some things never truly changed.]

[Just then, a pale figure sweeps across Rafal's field of vision and comes into focus.]

Rafal: A ghost? In my School? You... look like me. Not Vulcan.

Ghost: Sharp powers of observation, if only you weren't so slow.

Rafal: I'm slow? [smirks] Well, if you knew my brother, you'd really know who's the slow one.

Ghost: [taunting] You'll say that now, but wait 'til you become me.

Rafal: Wait, I can't die. How do you even exist? Is this a prank? If it's my Nevers, they're getting stretched on the rack.

Ghost: [drolly] You have more pressing concerns than mutinous students, actually.

Rafal: [His eyes flicker with a realization.] The Storian! I knew it! The little devil killed me, didn't it? [He stands up and starts to pace.] Well, I can prevent it. Just, tell me what happened. Now.

Ghost: You're even denser than I remember. The cause of our death wasn't the Pen. And, actually, it was your own fault.

Rafal: My fault? You already know what I've gone through to preserve my life and Rhian's! How dare you!

Ghost: [perching on his desk, amused, spoken bitterly] Now you're making progress.

Rafal: What? What is it? No—Rhian?

Ghost: Correct.

Rafal: That blundering fool! I'll bet his lunacy got us both killed!

Ghost: No, just you.

Rafal: What! How! Rhian can't even clean up his own messes, much less run the Schools on his own—

Ghost: He does when you're gone. For at least thirty years straight, and counting, as long as I’ve been dead.

Rafal: Impossible. With his reputation, he couldn't command a morsel of the respect I can, not unless he transformed into me!

Ghost: So close and yet so far. I can't believe I was this much of a numbskull when I was younger. Do I have to spell it out for you?

Rafal: [icily] Do tell, ghost o'mine.

Ghost: [rolls his eyes] HE KILLS YOU AND TAKES YOUR PLACE.

Rafal: Don't make me laugh.

Ghost: I'm not laughing.

Rafal: [He stills, halts in his tracks.] What? Rhian wouldn't even kill moths. [scoffs] I don't think he's capable of killing people or his own brother. [derisively] He's too Good.

Ghost: And that brings me to the second piece of news I have for you.

Rafal: [mockingly] Don't tell me—Rhian's Evil, right? [shaking his head] If you're not going to tell me the actual cause of my death, just leave. I'll figure it out. And take precautions all on my own. [Then, he catches sight of a pirate ship sailing away in the distance on the Savage Sea.]

Ghost: Hook took your students. Now do you believe me? You know I'm right. I'm always right.

Rafal: [chokes on his own spittle] Rhian? H-he betrayed me? Oh, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into, brother. I won't die. Not if I murder you first!

Ghost: [blocks the door, so Rafal doesn't storm out in fury] You've forgotten something. You can't play by those Rules anymore.

Rafal: What rules?

Ghost: The Rules.

Rafal: Clear out of my way. I'm not burning daylight on a conversation for first-years! I'm Evil and that's final.

Ghost: [doesn't move, crosses his arms serenely.] No. You're not.

Rafal: [through gritted teeth] I'm telling you. I'm. Not. Good.

Ghost: You will be, if you don't listen to me!

Rafal: Empty threats. What can you do to me now that you're "dead?" [He strides right through his ghost.] If I catch a student behind this phantom projection, I'll flay them alive. I mean, you're not even convincing, as far as illusions go.

Ghost: I know you've been mulling over the idea of swans for a unified School crest these last couple of days. How could I know that, if I'm not you?

Rafal: [He blinks, processing for a moment, breaks into a sprint, and roars,] RHIAN!

Ghost: See, I wasn't a liar! Don't do anything rash though. I'd hate to watch myself turn into a victim again and sooner at that.

[As soon as he arrives at Good, Rafal thrusts open the doors to a classroom, yanks Rhian aside and out the door, and frog-marches him up the silver tower's stairs with a lit fingerglow to the back.]

[Some of the Ever students snicker at their mortified School Master, being scolded like a child, presumably being escorted to a punishment.]

Rhian: Rafal! What's this about!? I thought you forgave me!

Rafal: You haven't done anything wrong. Yet. I'm ensuring that the worst won't happen. Thus, I will quarantine you for a couple of days. [He flicks his fingers and casts a spell to make Rhian sneeze.] Look, you have a cold. Too many strangers, too much excitement for you and your weak immune system. I'll sort out everything else myself, then we'll talk. [muttering under his breath] Right after one James Hook pays for his deeds...

Rhian: [about to object, but then sees the ghost] Wait. Who is that?

Rafal: Ignore it. I'll explain once you've recovered.

Rhian: But Rafal! You can't leave me here! The students need proper supervision!

Rafal: So? I'll get... Humburg to watch over them.

Rhian: [pulls a face]

Rafal: Well, it's a better option than y—[He pauses to think for a moment.]—either of us at the moment. We're... volatile and... murderous, apparently.

Rhian: We?

Rafal: Later. Not now. We'll discuss this later. Just let yourself be saved one last time.

Rhian: [looks indignant]

Rafal: Don't tell me that isn't true.

Rhian: Is this about the future me that visited me? I didn’t think you knew.

Rafal: All right, sure, I’ll believe you. Just tell me about your nonsense after I deal with mine and save your vacuous soul from eternal damnation.

Rhian: So, is that—y-your ghost? [Rhian peers up at ghost Rafal and tells the ghost:] I’m sorry, about ev-everything. [his voice catching in his throat.]

Ghost: [somberly] It’s not your apology to give, but I miss this side of you.

Rafal: [glances at the ghost, then fixes his gaze on Rhian] You. Stay put. [Then, addressing the ghost,] And you. Come with me. We're solving this now.

Ghost: [to Rhian] I don't miss myself though. I was cruel.

Rafal: Now, ghost. I’m not squandering a minute on ludicrous phantom reunions.

Rhian: [sighs] You’re strange. And oddly calm.

Ghost: The result of death and decades of reflection. I was high-strung before, wasn’t I?

Rhian: Will my Rafal ever change to become like you?

Ghost: Not if he can prevent it.

Rhian: Good. No offense, but I don’t want any traces of your timeline in ours. Even if you have the remotest chance of being nicer to me.

Ghost: None taken. I’d rather be alive. But look at where I am now.

Rafal: [calling from the stairwell] Make haste, ghost!

Ghost: [voice echoing, to Rafal] That's your responsibility. I've suffered enough for several lifetimes already.

Rhian: More than my br—

Ghost: Yes, much more than yours.

Rhian: [shaking his head incredulously, musing,] Same, old, Evil brother...

Ghost: About that—

Rafal: [interjecting, shouting back up] I may be Good, but I’ll never be an Ever!

[The ghost and Rhian eye each other and try not to laugh.]

Rhian [to the ghost, pleadingly]: Keep me company while he's gone, why don't you?

Ghost: [shrugs, declaring,] I have nothing better to do. And, it's... nice, to have you around again. I should've stayed... all those years ago when I had my chance... [his voice trails off] I apologize, for abandoning you, Rhian.

Rhian: Not your apology to give, but thank you.

Ghost: [looks down at Rafal from the tower window] He may still apologize to you, someday...

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