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#just drape yourself anywhere
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It's Halloween, so time to watch Fright Night again
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runa-falls · 9 months
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FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?
a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me
special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol
cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.
wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)
---
miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.
sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.
you're spoiled, really.
miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).
miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.
he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.
he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.
he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.
he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.
you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.
he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.
you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).
you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.
he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.
as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.
it didn't last for long.
you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.
just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.
his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.
he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.
you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.
he doesn't react.
somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.
he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.
it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.
"...baby."
"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.
you huff.
"but--"
"not right now."
you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...
you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).
"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.
you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.
"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.
"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.
he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.
"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.
he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.
his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.
"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.
he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.
you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.
he's so good at this, too good at this.
how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?
you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.
you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.
his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.
his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.
you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.
before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.
"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.
"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."
so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.
but he's hard.
he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.
so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.
you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.
it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.
you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.
he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.
you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.
but he ignores it.
he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).
you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.
it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.
until you arent.
you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.
you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--
your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.
"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.
he says your name once more.
"you're working."
"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"
"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"
"cariño..."
"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.
you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."
well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?
you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.
you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)
he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.
"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"
you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.
he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.
you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.
you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.
he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.
maybe just a few minutes?
LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....
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rafe cameron lactation kink + him dry humping🫣🫣
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warnings: domestic!rafe, dad!rafe, husband!rafe, slight nipple play, titty sucking, dry humping, brief mention of being insecure
“why are you covering yourself?” rafe laughed, sitting up under the covers as you made your way to your shared bed. “baby fell asleep before i could nurse. now i’m all swollen..” you mumbled, wincing once you curled into rafe’s chest. “want me to get the pump?” he was about to get up but you stopped him, a sigh leaving your lips. “no, m’too tired for that right now.” you draped a leg over his waist, clinging to him so he couldn’t go anywhere. rafe hummed, rubbing a large hand down your backside. “jesus christ.” he looked down between the two of you.
your tits were practically spilling out of your nightgown, the swells of your breasts so plump and full, rafe couldn’t help but reach out and take one in his hand. you gasped softly, your eyes fluttering open as he ran his thumb across your nipple. “please be gentle, i’m so sensitive right now.” you laid on your back, allowing your husband to pull the neckline of your gown down. “shit, you look so good like this.” rafe ignored your words, grabbing you more firmly. biting your lip to keep quiet, your fingers wrapped around his wrist in a poor attempt to make him loosen his grip.
rafe rolled one of your sensitive buds between his fingers, his mouth falling open when a single drop of milk trickled down his hand. “rafe..” your hid your face in embarrassment, only for him to cup your chin to make you look up at him. you watched as he brought his hand up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick the milky substance with a satisfied hum. “i understand why our baby always wants to be latched onto you,” he squeezed your nipple once more, “you taste so fucking good.” he hovered above you, sliding between your thighs. “is there milk packs in the freezer?” you eyed rafe.
“no. i was going to make some in the morning,” he nodded, lowering his head, “why?” just as you asked him, he muttered a ‘sorry, kid.’ before his lips wrapped around your perky bud. “oh!” you whimpered, running your nails across his buzzed head. your hips instinctively moved against his, both of you moaning in unison. “do you like this?” rafe swirled his tongue, the wet sound making you flustered. “mhmmm,” you hummed, eyebrows knitting in pleasure. you knew rafe loved your tits, but enough to drink from them? you felt dumb for feeling insecure in the first place.
“don’t want you to stop.” you arched into him, his erection sitting snuggly between your folds. the thin material both of your underwear did nothing to conceal you from the head of his cock rubbing against your clit. “oh, my god,” rafe was shamelessly grinding against you, both of you trying your hardest to keep your moans and groans at bay. a particular stroke of his hips had you yelping, his hand coming up to clamp over your mouth. “shhh, you don’t want to wake the baby up, now do you?” you shook your head, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.
rafe couldn’t believe he didn’t do this sooner. he was already obsessed with everything about you, he didn’t think there was anything else to obsess over. but this? he coudn’t get enough of it. your were holding his head in place while you let out the prettiest little cries, his movements faltering as he cummed inside his boxers. not long after, your thighs trembled around his waist while you clenched around nothing, your orgasm ripping right through you. thankfully, rafe’s palm was helpful in muffling your scream of his name, his mouth pulling away from your tit with a pop.
rafe helped you come down from your high, the corner of his lips lifting in a teasing smirk as he slipped off your nightgown. “let’s do that again, except this time i’m gonna fuck you stupid while i have you like this.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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How’d they react to finding you sleeping anywhere but the bed…
Dick: sharing the dog bed with Hayley (fail):
At first he thought something was wrong when he didn’t hear you or Hayley greet him home and soon began to search the spy for you both.
So the moment he finds you fast asleep on Hayley’s dog bed with Hayley tucked closely into your chest, head resting underneath your chin. His heart immeditly melted and his phone was out and taking photos nearly every 0.5 seconds, only until he was forced to stop due to how much storage they took up but he didn’t regret it.
Not one bit. He even has one printed out that he kept on him to look at whenever he felt as though he needed to be reminded of how he had waiting back home for him.
You both were effortlessly cute to Dick, he couldn’t help it but feel a little left out as he then tries to join you in the dog bed, only to almost ends up capsizing the three of you and waking both you and Hayley, who began licking his face as her tail smacks you in the arm repeatedly.
‘What were you trying to do?’ You asked Dick, sitting up.
Dick pouted. ‘Join in the fun.’
‘We were sleeping in a dog bed, how’s that fun.’ You said, not bothering to add the fact that you had accidentally fell asleep on Hayley’s dog bed because you were waiting up for him but failed.
‘Fun to me is wherever you and Hayley are.’ Dick answered truthfully.
You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘You’re such a dork, you know that right.’ You told him.
‘Yes. And?’ He says cheekily, more than happy to be home with his little family.
Bruce: in the Batmobile:
Alfred told him where you were and that you best be moved to a more comfortable place then the passenger seat of the Batmobile.
How you got in there was a mystery to both men but what was more impressive was how you could possibly sleep against those hard rich leather seats in the first place.
Bruce couldn’t blow but let out a little chuckle when he opened the side door, just to see you with your face half pressed against the seats before jolting yourself awake.
‘Wha- I didn’t do nothing officer it was the dog.’ You said groggily as you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes as they tried to bring reality into focus.
‘Have a good nap did we?’ Bruce asks, finding some amusement in your half asleep nonsense.
‘Why, who’s asking?’ You replied.
‘Your consciousness.’ Bruce joked sarcastically. ‘Come on let’s get you to bed before you develop a-‘
‘Ow my neck.’ You groaned as you held a hand to your neck the moment you tried to move it.
‘-Crooked neck.’ Bruce sighs as he offers you a hand. ‘Come on, let’s go find Alfred so that we can alleviate you of this pain.’ You pouted as you grabbed onto his hand and letting him pull you out of the Batmobile. ‘Alfred is going to scold me isn’t he?’ You asked. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ Bruce answered as he helps guide you out of the Batcave.
Alfred’s scoldings were nothing to scoff at, and Bruce would know as he’s been on the receiving end of a few before in the past. After all getting scolded by Alfred was enough to set a stubborn man straight.
‘Damn.’ You muttered.
Damian: in the barn, on top of Goliath:
He didn’t have to look far, he knew you’d be in the barn but what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be fast asleep on top of his demonic dragon bat, whom had draped a protective wing over you as though it were swaddling you in an extremely warm blanket.
He had told you about the story of how he met Goliath and took him home on more then one occasion, as it was secretly his favourite story because it helped him with his own internal struggles on who he should be, and also how his past doesn’t define him, but what he chooses to do in the future does.
So seeing you cuddled up to Goliath without an ounce of care made him smile a little to himself at the prospect of you accepting him for who he was truly, rather than believe what other people viewed him as. You stood out of the crowd rather than follow it and Damian couldn’t be more grateful for you sticking by him, even through the extremely tough times where even he thought he went too far with his outbursts towards you.
‘Tt. Idiot.’ He says affectionately as he walks further into the barn, stopping along the way to pet BatCow and Jerry the Turkey. ‘Aren’t they?’ He asks both animals who only blinked at him as they mindlessly chewed on their food. Damian hums. ‘You’re right, they may be an idiot but they’re still my idiot at the end of the day.’
Damian ends up falling asleep against BatCow’s side as Jerry the Turkey made himself comfortable on his lap.
Jason: kitchen counter:
Him and Roy have a bet on where Jason would find you asleep next.
It had happened way too often for them that they’d hates themselves forever for not making a game out of it at any point in their lives.
This time Roy betted that you’d fall asleep on the kitchen counter, whereas Jason believes you’ll fall asleep against the window sill.
So when Jason got back home late one night after patrol, he immeditly went to look for you at the window sill. Nothing. ‘Damn it Roy.’ He cursed under his breath as he then walked into the kitchen, praying that he wouldn’t have to tell his friend that he won the bet for the eighth consecutive time.
Only for you to be fast asleep on the fucking kitchen counter, just as Roy predicted you would. Jason felt as though his friend was cheating somehow because it didn’t make sense for him to have correctly predicted where you’d be found sleeping as often as he did. Unfortunately for Jason, he couldn’t back up his claim as to why he thought Roy cheated, for there wasn’t any substantial evidence to prove that Roy was cheating.
And so with a heavy heart, Jason walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling out his phone to text Roy that he has won…again, and pocketing his phone as he carried you off to your shared room. ‘I love you chipmunk but you’ve got to start sleeping in places where I’ll surefire win the bet against Roy next time okay?’ He says against your head, kissing it.
‘Okay. I’ll try.’ You murmured.
‘That’s my baby.’ Jason said as he tucked you into bed before following suit.
The next day, Roy was smirking like a Cheshire Cat as he talked about his eighth consecutive victory, whereas Jason looked about ready to strangle the next person who looked at him funny.
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bucketsofmonsters · 9 months
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On The Altar
cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time
male dragon x male knight x fem reader
word count: 12k
Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you. 
You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did. 
Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then. 
You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really. 
It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count
Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps. 
You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task. 
You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes. 
You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe. 
Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out. 
Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time. 
They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition. 
You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes. 
All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.
And the town saved. 
They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them. 
What a privilege it was to die for them. 
You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out. 
Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming. 
You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall. 
Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up. 
You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you. 
You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders. 
And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes. 
As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you. 
It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into. 
It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you. 
Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible. 
You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative. 
He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing. 
You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact. 
Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”
You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more. 
You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind. 
“Hello,” you responded. 
Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”
You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature. 
“You were out there to be taken, yes?”
Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world. 
You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.
“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”
“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken. 
“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”
“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”
“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”
“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”
Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”
You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice. 
“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”
“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped. 
The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”
“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”
It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand. 
You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him. 
He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”
“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”
He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”
Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I can’t let them hurt you.”
You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish. 
“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”
Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”
“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”
You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice. 
You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff. 
He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude. 
“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.
“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself. 
He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion. 
“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.” 
With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave. 
He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language. 
You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it. 
As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it. 
You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path. 
You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return. 
Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill. 
You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall. 
At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said. 
“I can’t eat that.”
You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you. 
“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.” 
At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price. 
He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”
He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs. 
When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground. 
“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”
“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home. 
He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.
“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”
If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in. 
“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”
You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.
You looked down at the sheep again. 
Maybe not entirely alone. 
He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back. 
You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.
Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight. 
As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”
You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food. 
As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”
The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”
“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”
“They do. Just not me.”
You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”
He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”
You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”
The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different. 
“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”
“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place. 
“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”
“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”
You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”
Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”
You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”
“But not today?”
You shook your head. “Not today.”
“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”
You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all. 
When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen. 
Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you. 
Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.  
When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him. 
You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering. 
He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him. 
You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.
It wasn’t much but it was all you had. 
The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner. 
Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much. 
As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave. 
You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept. 
You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks. 
“You’re still upset with me,” he noted. 
“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”
“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.
“You did.”
“You’ll find a new ending someday.”
“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.
“You matter.”
You scoffed. “I did.”
“You do.”
You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”
“Goodnight, little human.”
You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe. 
You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you. 
“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was. 
You slid away from him, back into the cold. 
He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”
You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”
“I will not.”
You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin. 
You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep. 
You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side. 
Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side. 
You’d never slept better. 
You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze. 
“Good morning,” he said.
You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back. 
You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right. 
You pulled away from him, feeling sick.
Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable. 
“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer. 
You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”
He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him. 
You didn’t.
“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”
“It just wasn’t meant to be." 
“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out. 
You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”
He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm. 
You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”
And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you. 
Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant. 
“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”
You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday. 
You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago. 
“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”
His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”
A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now. 
Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed. 
Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again. 
This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds. 
Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy. 
The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done. 
He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him. 
As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky. 
 Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways. 
The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears. 
You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen. 
The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming. 
You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty. 
You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village. 
As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you. 
You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces. 
“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak. 
The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears. 
Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly? 
“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”
The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”
You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”
“An example must be made.”
You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”
The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle. 
“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.
You could barely think, barely hear his words. 
The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it. 
You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore. 
It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left. 
The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife. 
It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more. 
Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something. 
A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head. 
And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse. 
Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist. 
You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”
The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient. 
Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted. 
You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you. 
Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for. 
As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened. 
He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him. 
“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”
“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.
“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”
He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”
You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”
“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.
You refused it. It would be a waste anyways. 
“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you? 
“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”
“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”
“For what?”
“To be their sacrifice.”
“You didn’t deserve that.”
You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him. 
It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be? 
You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now? 
Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?
The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home. 
You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”
That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”
“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him. 
“Phillip.”
You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking. 
He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement. 
He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes. 
He returned in a few moments. 
“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”
You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse. 
It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get. 
As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away. 
It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight. 
You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good. 
You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean. 
You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go. 
You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?
Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever. 
As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere. 
You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed. 
You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress. 
You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.
He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm. 
“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”
He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them. 
No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off. 
“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”
“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”
You shook your head again. 
You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”
He nodded. “Promise.”
You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”
You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change. 
A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises. 
You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well. 
The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option. 
You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem. 
As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree. 
You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”
“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”
“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”
You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?
“I can drop you off at any other town.”
You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright. 
He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew. 
He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you. 
He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 
It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.
The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive. 
Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it. 
Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar. 
It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.
You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it. 
If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them. 
 Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.
You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing. 
With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that. 
You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”
“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”
“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”
You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”
The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path. 
You took off in a dead sprint after him. 
You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready. 
You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place. 
The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation. 
Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be. 
You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck. 
Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”
You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you. 
For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it. 
He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp. 
You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly. 
Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight. 
“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you. 
You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make. 
“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful. 
You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot. 
He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you. 
You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”
He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.” 
He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere. 
And not a moment too soon. 
The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze. 
The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal. 
You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.
You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”
“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”
You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man. 
“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”
You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized. 
“No. But… but you….”
“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”
“If he took you, how did you escape?”
“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case. 
“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”
“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”
He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”
“And it’s not your choice to make.”
He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate. 
Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did. 
“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor. 
“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt. 
Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”
He nodded hesitantly. 
Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”
“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”
The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”
You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”
“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”
Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”
You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”
“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”
You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”
“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred. 
“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”
You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”
“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be. 
The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive. 
“Pytho?” you called out. 
He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”
“Could you go get some wood?”
“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off. 
When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots. 
You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime. 
You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished. 
You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth. 
“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here. 
He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”
“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him. 
With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire. 
You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”
He didn’t respond. 
You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain. 
A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him. 
He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”
“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”
His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes. 
“I wish I could do that.”
“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”
Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind. 
You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”
He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”
You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home. 
The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell. 
What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten. 
Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him. 
“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.
He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for. 
“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand. 
“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky. 
You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.” 
There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest. 
After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”
He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides. 
With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.
You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him. 
He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.
He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.
You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.
His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope. 
You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did. 
“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”
“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”
“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”
His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”
You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”
He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”
“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”
“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that. 
“Don’t you get tired?”
“I never have the time.”
“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”
He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.
He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it. 
Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place. 
“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation. 
“Yeah?”
“Where is my sword?” he asked. 
You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”
“You what? Why?”
Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”
You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”
“Why?” asked Phillip.
“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”
“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”
“You already did attack him unprovoked.”
“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”
Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”
That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”
Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”
“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”
Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”
He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat. 
“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest. 
It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place. 
“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”
Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope. 
“What should I do?” he asked you quietly. 
You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”
It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor. 
His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.
He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him. 
You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years. 
His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there. 
He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected. 
With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong. 
A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner. 
You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.
“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”
You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment. 
“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.” 
You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”
“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”
You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.” 
His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”
“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”
“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”
“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”
His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied. 
Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”
“What?”
“That I never stop. That upsets you?”
You nodded. “It does.”
“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”
A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”
“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”
And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”
A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.” 
Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it. 
“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin. 
“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice. 
You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that. 
And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you. 
“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”
You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon. 
The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell. 
As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before. 
Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it. 
And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner. 
You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you. 
You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it. 
He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face. 
“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked. 
“What?”
“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”
Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”
You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”
He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”
He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge. 
You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue. 
A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him. 
You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him. 
“What was that?” you asked quietly. 
He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”
Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”
He nodded hesitantly. 
“You kiss me all the time though.”
He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”
As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”
You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more. 
You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw. 
You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you. 
You couldn’t be happier. 
“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy. 
And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his. 
As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this. 
“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”
His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before. 
As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you. 
He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go. 
His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him. 
You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was. 
His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine. 
His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. 
It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before. 
His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go. 
His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could. 
You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat. 
He was massive, probably a foot long. 
“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.
The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate. 
“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”
Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything. 
Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall. 
“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you. 
He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at. 
Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do. 
He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”
You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.
So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho. 
He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”
He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety. 
You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly. 
He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin. 
You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin. 
Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.
Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.
“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that. 
You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”
The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped. 
His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin. 
You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides. 
You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you. 
“Please,” you asked. 
He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard. 
Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you. 
Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch. 
Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly. 
“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture. 
You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing. 
You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust. 
Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.
You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you. 
As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip. 
Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore. 
You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt. 
You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life. 
Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”
“Plans change,” you said. 
“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again. 
You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you. 
Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before. 
Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water. 
You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet. 
It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind. 
Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily. 
As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon. 
You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment. 
He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything. 
You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing. 
“What?”
His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”
You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”
He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”
“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried. 
“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”
He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”
He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”
You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”
“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”
You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”
Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”
It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like. 
You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”
“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”
You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”
4K notes · View notes
killinfate · 7 months
Note
Dating Mike and Vanessa comes by the house but Mike never told her about reader and never told reader about Vanessa. Jealous reader and mine has to reassure her that there’s nothing between him and Vanessa.
AHHH YES!
JEALOUSY.
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i’m gonna end up reusing gifs cuz im struggling sm to find high quality mike gifs
MIKE SCHMIDT X READER
— NATURALLY MIKE DIDN’T WANT YOU ANYWHERE NEAR THE PIZZERIA WHEN HE WENT TO SAVE ABBY. HE HADN’T EVEN TOLD YOU ABOUT ALL THAT WAS HAPPENING UNTIL HE GOT BACK WITH ABBY.
At first you didn’t believe him, but he seemed completely sincere. Who were you to doubt him?
“Vanessa’s out of hospital now, I’ve invited her over for dinner.” Mike says casually one night, crawling into bed beside you. He draped his arm lazily over your waist, ready to get some rest as his eyes close.
You opened your eyes and your brows immediately furrowed.
Who the fuck was Vanessa?
“You haven’t mentioned her before.” You mumble, your voice barely audible. Mike opened his eyes and looked over your shoulder slightly to see your face.
“Hm?” He asked, not having had heard you correctly.
“You haven’t mentioned Vanessa before.” You say clearly. There’s a moment of silence.
“Haven’t I?” His voice was tired.
No, you haven’t Mike.
“She saved Abby back at the pizzeria, she’s been in hospital for a while since it and I thought it’d be nice to invite her over.” Mike says and you grow silent.
“I just thought you’d be okay with it.” He replies simply. Despite your apparent confusion you look up. You were okay with it.
“I’m okay with it.” You reply and Mike smiles, kissing your forehead and holding you closer. However you did stay up a while that night, thinking upon what he’d said.
The next evening you finally meet Vanessa. She’s so beautiful that it’s threatening. Mike greets her warmly and you begin to realise you’re taking note of every gesture and word he says yet you don’t stop yourself. It’s bad; you’re aware.
You, Abby, Mike and Vanessa begin to eat dinner, discussing typical topics about how life was treating them.
At some point, you slowly began to hold Mike’s hand, your thumb tracing over t o back of his hand. Mike looks over to you, giving you a confused glance as his eyes flicker between your hands intertwined and you. You’d never done that before at dinner. This was new.
Vanessa was friendly, she was nice. Yet you were still defensive. You’d tried to follow the same attitude but whenever you laughed or smiled it all seemed…fake, not genuine.
She caught on, and there would usually be an awkward silence to follow any conversation you had with her.
When the evening was over you’d began to get ready for bed. You were in the bathroom, washing your face when you looked up in the mirror and saw Mike walking to the bathroom.
He got in and shut the door, leaning against it so Abby couldn’t listen in. Mike didn’t look particularly happy. “What was that?” He asked his eyes searching yours. You looked to him and laughed a little.
“What was what?” You asked, your voice holding confusion but you knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Why were you being like that at dinner?” Mike questioned. He had no clue what could’ve brought on your behaviour yet.
“Nothing was wrong with me at dinner.” You assured him. He scoffed a little, looking away for a moment.
“Vanessa saved mine and Abby’s life. The least you can do is be friendly.” Mike told you.
“I was being friendly, I was talking and I was—“ he cut you off.
“Don’t bullshit me I saw that, you never grab my hand like that at dinner, ever.” Mike told you, his voice holding a hint of anger at your obliviousness.
You noticed his change in tone and your face dropped a little, your facade falling. Mike’s eyes softened at your face and he sighed.
“Look c’mere. I’m sorry. ” He told you, pulling you into his arms. You wrapped your arms around him and closed your eyes, feeling his hand caressing the back of your head comfortingly.
It took him a moment to put the pieces together. The fake laughing, smiling, holding his hand, how you looked at Vanessa.
Mike kissed the top of your head before moving away slightly so he could see your face. “Were you jealous?” Mike says with a smile, his voice holding a teasing tone.
“I— no I wasn’t. I wasn’t.” You were quick to deny; you completely were.
“Oh okay, okay.” He said, his voice suggesting he didn’t believe you at all.
You run a hand over your face. “I wasn’t that’s..stupid I’m not like that.” You told him quickly but he could see right through you no, his hand moving to caress your cheeks.
“You were, I saw you. You were.” He told you, laughing slightly. You weren’t though and remained doubtful.
He was quick to notice this and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Hey, she’s a friend. That’s it. I promise.” Mike assures you, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.
“Yeah?” You said quietly, looking up. “Yeah I promise.” Mike replies, pressing an affectionate kiss to your lips. You relaxed immediately from your tense state and kissed back before Mike pulled away, a smile on his face. “I love you.”
“I’ve never seen you like that before it was weird.” He says with a laugh and you roll your eyes.
“I was hardly jealous alright.” You mumbled, making Mike move so you could leave the bathroom. He stepped aside, a laugh still leaving his lips as you opened the door and walked out.
“Alright, tell yourself that.” You hear him say as you walked down the hallway.
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months
Text
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who crash-lands on your balcony in the middle of winter, long after he should've migrated somewhere more hospitable to his animal counterpart. He's badly injured, half-frozen, and clearly in a state of shock, but you manage to drag him inside after a few minutes of struggling and fussing over his massive wings. An emergency vet is called, a small fortune dulled out in exchange for anti-biotics and bandages, but Diluc only wakes up hours after the chaos has blown over, after he's been moved to your bed and most of his blood has been scrubbed out of your carpeting. If you didn't have such a soft spot for birds, you might've been more mad at him.
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's surprisingly calm for a man who was on the verge of death less than a day ago. He apologizes for the trouble he's caused you, explains that his injuries came from a 'minor altercation' with his brother and promises that you'll be repaid for everything he's cost you so far, even if you can't say you're sure how a hybrid would have that kind of funding. His composure only falters when he realizes that he won't be able to fly until his wings heal, and even then, he manages to limit his frustration to a thin scowl and a wary sigh. His poise is a relief. He'll be stuck with you for a while, and a temper would've made a bad situation even worse.
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who clearly isn't as wild as you initially thought. If anything, your meager apartment seems too a little too modest for his tastes - you're not sure if you've ever heard anyone mention the thread count of your sheets so casually, let alone a hybrid. Still, he adjusts quickly. By the end of his first week with you, you can't stop him from helping around the house. He's a good cook, especially, and he seems to enjoy being able to take some of the stress off of you. You've heard that it's a common trait for hybrids, some universal base instinct to 'provide for a pack'. To be honest, you don't really care. He's nice to have around, even if you know he can't stay forever.
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who only ever blushes whenever you tend to his wings. You're not a professional, but you do your best to clear away all of the bent and broken feathers, to replace his bandages as often as the vet recommended, but you're still clumsy, still slow enough to mean he has to spend the better part of the hour sitting between your legs with his wings splayed out in your lap. He tries to keep up a conversation, but he trips over his words, balls his fists, pulls his hindlimbs against his chest and tries to pretend he's unaffected. It's cute, watching a creature as stoic as Diluc lose a few of his reservations.
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's too massive to sleep anywhere but your bed. You resign yourself to the couch for a while, but it's not long before you give in to his constant offers to share and end up spending most nights pressed into his side, one of his wings draped over you and an arm loosely wrapped around your waist. You learn quickly that hawks are creatures of routine, which means that you now have a very, very strictly enforced bedtime. He's not afraid to sling you over his shoulder and put you where he wants you to be, and there's only so much you can do to fight against a bird-man twice your height and more than double your strength.
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who gets... protective of your apartment, after a few weeks. It's not much - a small frown when you mention a friend he doesn't care for, a certain caginess when you have guests over - but it's far-cry from his normal, gentlemanly behavior. It might just be the instincts of a wounded animal attempting to protect his nest, but still. You worry about him, sometimes.
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, whose wings are getting better every day. He's able to make short trips, now, and you make sure to praise him as heavily as you can whenever he comes back from a lap around your apartment complex. You swear, when you're at work or running errands, you'll see a scarlet shape circling miles above you and convince yourself it's Diluc, but he's not the secretive type. You're sure, if he was really that far along, he wouldn't be able to hide it from you. You're sure, if he was really able to fly that well, he wouldn't stay any longer than the time it took to tell you that he was going home.
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's cuddled against your chest when you come to, your skin still numb from the windburn and your vision still blurred with tears. You can barely keep yourself awake, barely lift your head, but you can make out a lavish, crimson bedroom; a bed of sheets and pillows that goes on as far as you can see. No, not a bed, a nest. One big enough for a hawk and its mate.
Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's always been territorial. You just weren't able to see that until after he decided you were a part of that territory, too.
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sebastiansluts · 1 year
Note
How about reverse cowgirl with Bucky but you are completely on top of him, and him hooking his arm under your leg and thrusting into your kitty so hard yet he decides to be a little mean by putting 2 of his vibranium fingers inside you while his cock still inside and hooking it so they hit your g-spot perfectly that it makes you squirt everytime he hits it
I believe you'll be the perfect writer to write that kind of sfuff, Rosie!
Bucky Barnes x Reader; vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting,
ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+
You and Bucky were on the bed, and you were sitting on top of him, backwards, facing his legs, slowly sinking down on his dick. You breathed heavily, your hands planted on his calves, your legs tucked under you and still you felt shaky and off-balance.
"B-Bucky, I'm gonna fall," you whimpered, his big cock stretching you and it was only halfway in. His hands were firm on your hips, and he squeezed them, the vibranium shifting in his arm and making you squeak.
"Doll, you're not goin' anywhere," Bucky muttered, and pulled you down farther on his dick, making you take the stretch and pain until you were gasping with pleasure, his tip hitting that special spot inside you.
You panted as you adjusted, slowly walking your hands up his firm, thick thighs, until you pushed yourself upright, sat on top of him. Bucky kneaded your hips again, before sliding his mismatched hands up your sides, smoothing over your arms, until he had a firm grip on your upper arms.
"C'mon baby, I told ya, you're not goin' anywhere," Bucky said, pulling you down until you started falling, then he stopped you, controlling your descent, getting you resting on top of him completely.
"Fuck...Bucky don't slip out," you whined as he shifted, propping his feet on the mattress, yours still folded at his sides. He reached down, vibranium and flesh grabbing your calves and lifting you as you squeaked until your legs were folded up by your head.
"You still worried 'bout me slippin' out?" Bucky chuckled, draping your legs over his arms, the vibranium shifting beneath you making you shiver.
Bucky started thrusting, gently at first, teasing you with it before he suddenly started putting more power behind his thrusts, grunts and whimpers leaving you as his big cock stretched you again and again.
"How 'bout now doll, think 'm still gonna 'let you fall' or 'slip out' or some other silly nonsense?" Bucky was relentless with both his words and his thrusts, fucking you so hard you knew you were going to be bruised and swollen.
"No Bucky! I trust you!" you cried out, and his hips stuttered for a moment before regaining their steady, almost too much, powerful rhythm.
"Yeah? You trust me baby? So fuckin' sweet of ya, can't stand it doll. You're too good to me, so I'm gonna be too good to you."
Your eyes widened, staring up at the ceiling in shock as Bucky reached his vibranium hand over and slid a finger in beside his cock. You clenched hard, breath punched out of you, the sting back and intense, nearly bringing tears to your eyes, but Bucky kept moving, sliding his cock in and out of your hole while he kept his finger still.
You groaned, forced to take him like he wanted, literally held into position. "Bucky...fuck, it's s'much," you panted, moaning as he rubbed a second finger against where his cock was pressing deep inside your cunt.
"Aww, havin' trouble doll? S'it too much? No, never too much for my baby," Bucky praised as he pressed his second finger in beside the other, his cock pushing back deep into you.
Your mouth dropped open, your head fallen back on Bucky's shoulder as his vibranium fingers flexed inside you before hooking on your spot, pressing hard just as his dick plunged deep.
You gasped as pressure built inside you and released, liquid squirting out of you above Bucky's dick even as he pulled back partway. "Bucky!" you cried, and he groaned loudly, fucking you hard again, fingers pressing that spot and you felt that release again. You squirted again, to Bucky's absolute delight.
"Jesus Christ doll, that's fuckin' it, soak me baby, drench me, c'mon you can do it," he goaded, every other word punctuated with a thrust and a push of his fingers which set you off, squirting all over Bucky and the bed.
Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes rolled back in your head and still you were coming, body and thighs shaking as you tried to hold on to yourself.
Bucky wouldn't stop making you squirt, but his thrusts were getting sloppier the closer he came to coming. There was a puddle forming on the bed beneath you two, as Bucky lifted his hips repeatedly, forcing you to take everything.
Your back arched as you came dry, spasming around Bucky's dick and clenching tight enough to trigger his orgasm. He came inside you with a pulse and a groan. He pulled his fingers free and buried his cock deep inside you, holding you down against him.
"Take it all baby, everything I give ya," Bucky groaned, and you just whimpered, overstimulated and exhausted, body twitching as he emptied himself inside you, then let your legs drop to the bed.
"Good fuckin' girl," he praised, stroking your still trembling thighs, smoothing over your sensitive cunt and making you jump. "I think this might be a new go-to position, hmm?"
You moaned, already imagining how much he'd make you come and squirt and ruin the bed further. "Yeah doll, get ready for round two."
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dixons-sunshine · 6 days
Note
Sleepy!reader falling asleep all the time on Daryl’s shoulder,Chest,Arm anywhere in car ride or meeting with group and everyone teasing him and her about it
Sleepyhead | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Life in a world ravaged by the undead was hard. Constantly wondering where you'd find your supplies, whether your loved ones were safe and whether you'd die that day was exhausting. That exhaustion caught up with you, but thankfully, Daryl was more than willing to be your temporary pillow, even at the expense of getting teased about it.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sleep deprivation.
Word count: 768.
A/n: This is really short, but I really didn't have it in me today to write anything long, so I wrote this little fic instead. I feel like this isn't exactly like what was requested, but I hope you like this nonetheless!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Aw, the two of you are so adorable.”
“Glenn, get your camera. We need to get a picture of this.”
“Who knew you could be so soft, Daryl?”
The sound of laughter pulled you out of the black abyss of sleep you were nearly lost in. As everyone continued talking to the archer who's chest you found yourself rested against, you could clearly hear the teasing tones in everyone's voices, and it nearly made you smile—however, that would blow your cover and show everyone that you had woken up again. You wanted to see how Daryl handled the situation.
Barely even fifteen minutes prior, you had been sat against the wall of the lower level of the cellblock as everyone participated in a game of truth or dare. However, not too long into the game, you had yawned and rested your head back against the wall. You were extremely tired, the nights of sleeplessness finally knocking on your door in the form of exhaustion. As you had closed your eyes, you could distinctly feel the arms of someone wrapping around your shoulders, and your cheek had found itself rested upon a firm yet soft surface—that surface you now knew to be Daryl's chest—and a blanket had been draped around you.
“If y'all dun' shut the fuck up righ' now, I'll throw this goddamn pot at yer heads,” Daryl grumbled, subconsciously tightening his arms around you and readjusting the blanket that he had draped around the both of you to fight off the chill the night exhibited. “She ain't been gettin' any sleep lately. S'the first time she's slept in days. If y'all wanna make fun'a me, do it tomorrow when ya dun' run the risk'a wakin' her up.”
“Aw, Daryl,” Michonne awed teasingly, sharing a small laugh with Carl, who watched the exchange in amusement. “You're so sweet. Who would've thought that you'd actually be a big teddy bear instead of this brooding, scary guy you pretend to be?”
“She did,” Rick laughed, motioning over to you. “Look at her. She managed to make Daryl hold her in front of all of us. I thought that would be impossible.”
“Piss off, Grimes,” Daryl replied, ducking his head to hide the blush that spread over his face. Somehow, without even having to shrug you off first, Daryl got up and held you bridal style, regarding the amused faces of his friends once more before turning around. “M'takin her to bed. Nigh', assholes.”
Laughter followed him as he climbed the stairs to your shared cell. You nuzzled your face into his chest and tried to hide your smile, vehemently amused by the situation Daryl had just escaped. You knew that the two of you wouldn't hear the end of what had happened downstairs, but you had no problem with a little teasing over something as tender as Daryl holding you.
Soon, Daryl layed you down on the bed and climbed in behind you, adjusting the covers around the both of you. The archer grumbled something to himself before pressing himself against your back, wrapping his arms around you.
Finding it the perfect moment to add some teasing of your own, you rested your hand over his that rested around you. “They're right, you know. You are really sweet.”
A few beats of silence passed until Daryl spoke up. “Ya were awake the whole time?”
“No, not the whole time,” you corrected. “I woke up because everyone was laughing too loud. I'm glad I did, though. I'd hate to miss any opportunity to see you get so flustered.”
“Yer the worst,” Daryl mumbled, nuzzling his face into your shoulder blade.
“Yeah, I am,” you giggled. “You love me, though.”
A long moment of silence passed. You thought that Daryl had fallen asleep already, but soon he tightened his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
“Yeah, I do love ya, sleepyhead.”
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thebigbadbatswife · 7 months
Text
Day 12 - Somnophilia
Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader
Warnings - 18+ content, if you're under 18 leave immediately! Consenual somnophilia, off screen negotiation, fluff, softdom!Bruce Wayne, masturbation, praise kink, cockwarming.
Summary - Bruce makes your dreams come true.
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It was late. Again. So late that it was early as Bruce quietly made his way through the manor and up to the master bedroom. The door to the bedroom had been left ajar and light spilled out into the dark hallway, making him wonder. Were you still awake? He pushed the door open and entered the room, making sure to close and lock it behind him.
You were laying on your front, fast asleep. You hadn’t pulled the covers over you body beforehand, leaving your completely naked body on display. He had a great view of your ass and there was enough light coming from the lamp on the bedside table that he could see how your lower lips glistened. Had you been touching yourself to the though of him before you had fallen asleep? That, mixed with him drinking in the sight of your naked form, already had blood heading south.
He approached your side of the bed and sat down on the edge, being careful not to wake you. Starting at your ankle he trailed his fingers up your leg, getting closer and closer to your pussy. Stopping just before his fingers could brush against you there, he moved his hand to your ass, groping and massaging the skin there first. You murmured something softly, too quiet for him to actually hear whatever it was. His eyes moved away from your ass and to your pussy. 
You looked absolutely irresistible. So he didn’t even try to resist.
His fingers easily slid through your lips, your walls already starting to squeeze his fingers. He groaned lowly. You were absolutely soaked. It would be so easy for him to slid inside of you with no resistance because of how wet you were. His cock was only half hard, but his grey sweatpants were already extremely uncomfortable. 
He freed his cock from the confines of his pants and kicked them away. Now he was as naked as you. As he stroked himself to fully hardness, with his other hand, he began to slowly rubbed your clitoris. There was a slight hitch in your breathing as he played with it, but no signs that you were anywhere close to waking up. You were deep asleep tonight.
He stroked his cock at the same speed that he was playing with you. He forcefully exhaled through his nose, swallowing his noises down as he grew thick and hard in his hand. Bruce ran his thumb over the tip of his cock, collecting the precum that had been forming at the slit, using it as lubricant and continued to pump his cock.
You had started to moan softly now and your hips rocked slightly at his touch. The moans were mostly muffled by the pillow, but he could still hear them. Had he started to influence your dreams now? Were you dreaming of him touching you? Whatever you were dreaming about, mixed with him touching you, you were only getting wetter. Your slick dripping out of you, coating your lips and his hand. You were dripping so much that you were now starting to stain the sheets. Not that he cared. He had more than enough money to replace them as needed.
He pulled his fingers from you, chuckling softly at your small whine. Asleep, but still willing to complain when he stopped pleasuring you. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and breathed in deeply, inhaling your scent, before he started to lick them clean. He groaned at your taste. Your scent and taste went straight to his cock. If he was more patient tonight he would take the time to eat you out, really ruin the sheets and cover the top half of his body in your slick.
But he wasn’t being patient tonight.
Instead he grabbed your hips and moved you until you were sprawled out on your back. The movement had your breasts bouncing. Your pussy was on display even more now, looking absolutely delectable. He swallowed thickly. 
Bruce draped his body over yours. He caught your earlobe between his teeth, gently tugging on it, gauging your reaction. You sighed softly, murmuring his name. He smiled. You were still asleep. Though he doubted that would last for much longer.
“I’m here, baby,” he muttered, “I’m here. I’m going to wake you up in the best way.” 
His lips skimmed across your skin, pressing kisses here and there. You smelled like your favourite shower gel. He sat up and lifted your hips up off of the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips. He pushed the head of his cock between your lips, but didn’t breach you just yet. He lingered, raking his eyes down your body. You were so incredibly sexy and gorgeous and he had no idea how he had got this lucky. 
He finally started to slowly push inside of you, stopping once only his head was inside. He took a deep breath. Fuck. He was more wound up than he had thought he was and your walls already squeezing the head of his cock wasn’t helping as he did his best to hold himself back instead of just ramming into you. After all he didn’t want to hurt you or startle you. Taking a couple more deep breaths he continued entering you.
Inch by inch his cock dragged against the inside of your walls. You whimpered and moaned, your brow creasing. He couldn’t quite believe that you were still asleep. You really were in deep tonight. He kept his thrusts slow, making sure to drag every inch, every vein up against that sweet spot inside of you. You were starting to get more vocal, your breathing picking up and eyelids fluttering. You were getting close to waking up. Now it was a question of whether he could get you to orgasm before you did.
He pressed his thumb to your clitoris, rubbing it to the same rhythm to his thrusts. Your hips started to move with him, like you were urging him to start moving faster. So he did. Your orgasm gushed around his cock and he fucked you through it. You were definitely awake now, looking up at him through your eyelashes, still dazed. He leaned forward, almost folding you into half, to capture your lips with his. You moaned into the kiss, your legs locking around his hips and your fingers finding their way into his hair.
“I’m home,” he murmured. 
Your brow creased again and you swallowed thickly as you struggled to find the words, your brain still waking up. He kept his thrusts shallow, barely coming out of you before bottoming out again.
“I can… I can see that,” you replied. He gave a particularly hard thrust, making your eyes roll back and your back arched as you whimpered.
Bruce set a more brutal pace, now that you were awake, chasing after his own pleasure. Your nails began to dig into the meat of his back and your legs locked around his hips, bringing him closer to you.
"Such a good girl,” he growled, “Letting me fuck you whenever I want. You’re so good to me.” 
“Yes,” you gasped. You were still struggling to string sentences together, your brain overwhelmed from waking up in the midst of pleasure. “Oh Bruce!”
His kisses had become sloppy and his rhythm erratic. He felt his orgasm quickly approaching. One. Two. Three more pumps of his cock and he was burying himself as deep as he could get, releasing deep inside of you. He collapsed against you, catching himself on his forearms so that he wouldn’t crush you. He kissed your neck, making his way up to your jaw, cheek and finally your lips. You sighed softly, parting your lips to let his tongue slip inside of your mouth. Your legs were still wrapped around him, keeping him inside of you, exactly where you wanted him to stay. Despite being soft, he rolled his hips enjoying the way you groaned.
“Thank you,” you murmured before kissing him again. “Better than I thought it was going to be.”
“You were dreaming about me,” he stated.
“When aren’t I dreaming about you?” That was true. There had been plenty of times in the past when he had come to bed or woken up in the night to you moaning his name in your sleep. Plenty of times when Bruce had wanted to wake you up with his cock deep inside of you, but hadn’t made a move of any of those thoughts because he hadn’t had any idea it was something you were into.
He rolled over, pulling you with him so that you stayed seated on his cock. Like that was where you belonged, what you were made for. You rested your head against his chest, pressing lazy, sleepy kisses to his body. 
The two of you laid like that for a while. He could feel the mixture of both of your fluids dripping out of you and running down his cock, making a mess. A mess that he would worry about later. He didn’t want to move right now and it was clear to him that neither did you.
Instead he closed his eyes and wrapped his arm around your waist, securing you to his chest. Feeling very, very content.
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margoisthemoon2 · 8 months
Text
Halsin nsfw ABC
A/N: uhh i 100% live by helsin being a soft dom in public and a hard dom in private
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NB reader so…yeah
* A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) ~ He is most defiantly a big aftercare person. Massaging your tender body and kissing any bruises you got. Running a bath and making sure you heal. “Are you okay my heart? Was i too rough?”
* B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) ~ waist. (Sounds weird ik). But he is a huge waist grabber. It makes it easier for him to manhandle you and keep you in place.
* C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) ~ He loves seeing his cum on your back or torso.
* D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) ~ none he choose to share everything with you
* E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) ~ VERY!! Dude has had plenty of partners over the years. He’s a man and he knows what he is doing and what he wants. End of story.
* F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) ~ Missionary. He wants to see your entire body on display as he rams into you.
* G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) ~ He can crake a joke or two but he’s more serious and paying attention if you’re enjoying yourself or not so he can catch you giving consent or using a safeword to stop
* H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) ~ It indeed matches. He doesnt like to shave often in other parts thats not his face but he makes sure it doesnt get too crazy down there
* I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) ~ Very romantic. Every position that is changed you can hear him say “Is this okay?” “Let me know if you dont like this” he is a huge kisser during intimacy
* J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) ~ He likes to get straight to it with you but when he is alone and thinking about you he would touch himself once in a while.
* K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) ~ Breeding. Even if you cant get preggers. Breeding.
* L = Location (favorite places to do the do) ~ Anywhere. Any time. But mainly in nature where you cant be seen.
* M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) ~ Just your presence makes him hot and heavy for you.
* N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) ~ He wont do bondage. He doesn’t want you to tied up, he knows how it feels to not have freedom
* O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) ~ Hes a big person on giving. He cant have intimacy if he hasnt gone down on you yet.
* P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) ~ All of the above. Sometimes depends on his mood. He can be rough and hard and other times he can be slow and take in the moment
* Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) ~ He likes quickies. Knowing that its what you both want and you are satisfied is most important.
* R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) ~ He a ‘dont knock it till you try it’ type of person
* S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) ~ He can go multiple rounds. He will go from sun up to sun down if you can last just as long
* T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) ~ He doesnt own any toys himself nor does he use them. However he is very open to you using a plug.
* U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) ~ Hes a huge tease. he loves rubbing your bottom getting closer and closer to your hole before pulling away and acting like he wasnt doing anything
* V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) ~ He grubts alot. A moan and here and there. But he loves cursing during intomacy
* W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) ~ He wants to go as deep as he can in you. Other than missionary he loves the position ‘Praying Mantis’
* X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) ~ He is big and girthy. Hes 7” soft and 7.5” hard and 8” around.
* Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) ~ Very high. But he holds himself back as long as he can
* Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) ~ It takes him a while to fall asleep. He always make sure you are comfortable and okay. About 95% of the time he wants you to fall asleep before he goes.
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solar-wing · 15 days
Text
⚣ Dick Grayson: NSFW Alphabet 🔵
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⚣🔵 Words → 3.5k
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙
⚣ ENJOY 🔵
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Caring and attentive. In other words, cling as hell.
It’s amazing how someone who was just fucking you like an absolute slut could turn into the world’s most innocent and soft boy in existence. When you think about it, it’s actually a little bit disturbing as well.
But, I digress. Dick will absolutely pick you up and carry you into the shower or whatever you desire. He’s also perfectly fine with lying in the mess. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to cuddle you right after.
He will have an overwhelming smug attitude though, especially if the sex was preceded by an argument, disagreement, or the acrobat just wanted to teach you a lesson. He can be a little shit when he wants to be.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I feel like we all know the answer to this one.
Dick’s butt is praised so much, that you already know he puts extra time and care into making sure it stays nice, right, and tight. He not so secretly loves when you play with it as well, whether it’s a light slap or pressing up against him even though he’s always the top. Notable mentions: His chest, abs, and thighs.
If you assumed his favorite body part on you was your ass, you’d guess right. Congratulations! You win nothing except a hard and playful smack on said ass from the acrobat. You’re welcome! Honorable mentions: Your waist, thighs, and chest. His weakness is any kind of jiggle and he is not ashamed or afraid of getting caught staring.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He may not play basketball but he’s a shooter (kill me). He can pretty much cover you anywhere or reach your furthest depths inside (careful if it’s M-Preg or he’ll definitely be the father).
He’s equal with where he likes to cum. He likes to sum on your face, chest, and body just as much as he loves to shoot down your throat and inside your hole. And the filthy little acrobat will definitely lick your cum off his hand after stroking you to your own finish. Let’s be clear now, this man has no shame.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Dick’s got a body count. Not as high as Bruce’s maybe but it’s up there. He can play innocent all he wants, but that man can and will get down when he’s feeling it.
Which, speaking of, he has definitely used Nightwing to land him some ass. No, I will not be taking questions.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Again, he doesn’t exactly have the title of a playboy like his adoptive father, but Dick’s been around the block. So he definitely knows a thing or two when it comes to the down and dirty.
Even if you are experienced yourself, I can guarantee Dick knows some tricks you don’t know which will have you, well…let’s save that for the bedroom, shall we?
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Face down, ass up, and no that was not a suggestion. Dick absolutely favors any position where your ass is bouncing in his face. Doggy, reverse cowgirl, spooning, standing behind, anything.
He also loves a good 69 moment and enjoys the missionary positions where he can really put in some power while inside you. You on the bed and him standing, countertop, or a stand-carry.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
If you know Dick’s personality, while the boy can be an absolute menace in the bedroom, he’s still a goofball at heart. Also, known for his witty banter, you can expect some wild stuff to come out that man’s mouth while he’s cumming to yours (tee hee).
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Dick is definitely well-groomed. He used to be a performer so he always took extreme care of his appearance. Keeps himself shaven and clean-cut, which definitely makes him appear bigger, as well as keeping those areas down there fresh and ready for any kind of play.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Dick is a romantic at heart. As much as he can be a little dominant shit in the bedroom, he’s always down for some soft love and intimate moments.
Candles, roses, food, massages with kisses down your body, maybe a little romantic dance before you get sweaty. You name it, Dick’s already thought of it and is thinking of more. Just as much as he wants to please you sexually, intimacy and romance never is off the table.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Dick is probably the most sexually active just behind Bruce, so you can definitely imagine that boy is no stranger to an evening alone with just him and his hand. Just as much as he knows how to please others, he knows how to please himself.
He knows when he’s in the mood to drag it out and edge himself while imagining or watching some slow, soft dirty dancing, and he knows when he’s frustrated and just needs to rub one out to get the edge off a little bit. Again, you won’t find many things in that realm that Dick has not either already tried or even just learned about.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Role-Playing: Once again, I bring up the fact that Dick is a retired performer. You know he’s one for the dramatics and theatrics, especially when it comes to sex. Whether it’s Nightwing coming to the rescue of some helpless dude, or instead that same person being abducted and forced to serve Nightwing to earn his freedom, nothing is off the table. And yes, as I just implied, that included CNC (Consensual-Non-Consensual). He’d never push you too far (unless variable circumstances apply), but he’s down to play any role. He’s the cop and you’re the guilty criminal he’s just arrested. You’re his student and desperately need a passing grade to graduate.
BDSM: He’s not too much into the lifestyle, but he definitely dabbles. He likes certain aspects of it, specifically the bondage, Dom/Sub roles, and getting to inflict punishments (his favorite being spanking cause it means he gets to play with your ass more). This also helps a lot with this abducted, helpless victim role-play when he gets to pull out the cuffs, rope, blindfolds, gags, and whatever else he’s got lying around. And he’s not opposed to the roles being reversed.
Dirty Talk: The guy is all about using his words remember. Self-explanatory.
Public Play (Exhibitionism): Dick’s not a sex addict, but he might as well be one with the way that man will drop his pants without a second thought, no matter where he is. Of course, he’s not just going to outright start doing it in front of others, but the thrill of pulling you into a dark corner, alleyway, restroom and the risk of you getting caught will always get him excited. Double points if you actually do get caught, because again, this man has no shame.
Honorable Mentions: Edge Play (choking/breath play), Impact Play (sub of BDSM, spanking, paddling, etc), Wrestling, Daddy kink, Mirror Sex, etc.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
As we just went over, public places really get Dick going. Especially if he’s out as Nightwing and wants to pull you into a random alley or bring you to some high-up rooftop, he will happily christen a surface that is not within the confines of his own house or private dwelling, and he won’t feel bad about it.
Other specific places?
The shower, any counter or table surface, the Batmobile, his motorbike, literally anywhere in his apartment, etc.
He really has no reservations about where he does it, as long as he can get up in you, he’s content.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
#1 – He’s a horny bastard: Again, he’s not a sex addict, but he sure has the sex drive of one. It doesn’t take much to get him turned on. A casual, suggestive sentence, the way your shorts are really highlighting your work in the gym, how you're sucking on the straw while sipping your drink, or even when you’re just standing or sitting doing nothing, that man will get hard and he will pounce on you.
#2 – Domestic Actions/Life: This is something I forgot to mention with Jason so I’ll mention it here because I’m definitely head-canoning that they both share this in common. Any kind of domestic act. You cook him dinner when he comes home or pack his lunch before he heads out for the day. Helping clean up his house or doing his laundry and folding his clothes. Running him a bath, washing his hair, giving him a massage after a hard day or night. Waiting up for him in bed after patrol and patting the space once he changes out of his uniform, laying down and letting him vent about anything on his mind while you rub his body or head. All of it and more will definitely have him up and ready for fun.
#3 – Jealousy: Now, you may think I mean when someone flirts with you and he gets all macho and protective, rah rah rah. Nope, not at all (unless we’re talking Alpha Dick in Omegaverse. Then, that’s different because, by the rule, it’s a part of his biology to be). Dick is actually quite casual and will find it humorous when someone tries to even think about flirting with you in hopes of stealing you away from him. He knows his worth, and even more, he knows how good his dick is. He’s not worried. But, when it’s the opposite, and someone flirts with him because again, this man is literally one of the most attractive beings probably in the entire world, he absolutely will be turned on at the sight of you staking your claim on him, chasing off any hag dared flirt with him in front of you.
Honorable Mentions: Arguing/Make-Up Sex, Clothing, exercising, any kind of physical touch.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Nothing that could involve serious injury or blood. Also, nothing even remotely unsanitary. I mean scat/throw-up/piss.
Also, he may be into very public displays of affection but do not get it twisted one bit. Dick is not into any type of sharing. He’s a sweetie at heart, but don’t piss him off with that ridiculous idea.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Dick is the goat of throat. Yeah, I said it…what you gon do? Beat my ass or something?
Just kidding, but no seriously, this man has a reputation known among his sexual partners for the danger to society that is his mouth, and not when it’s giving off a witty/sarcastic remark. He’s been known to drive some people to the brink of insanity, metaphorically speaking of course. But, then again, you never know with these people.
He loves to receive head and loves to give it even more. Especially when he gets to play with your balls and deny your orgasm every time you reach the edge, the little bastard. Same can be said if he’s munching on that hole too, which he eagerly does cause the sight of it puckering and winking at him sends all the little happy flutters to his own groin.
Now, if we’re talking again about receiving, and you think you’re gonna have him putty in your hand like he does with you, think again. This man is the definition of a seasoned veteran. There’s only been one known time he’s ever gotten overwhelmed and came from just head, and that was when he was a teenager. If you’re hoping to do that now, you’d better have expert-level skills, cause he will test you. Facefucking, choking and gagging, and whatever else that comes to mind.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the mood.
High off adrenaline after an intense patrol or fight? Congratulations, you’re about to be his next victim. You got jealous and cussed out someone for trying to flirt with him? Prepare to learn a whole new meaning of getting rough sex. Wore some 3 in shorts to the gym AND did a leg day? Gon head and bend that ass over, you’re about to experience why he’s called ‘Dick’ rather than ‘Rich’ or something else for a nickname. Please cancel any plans you have for that evening or the next day cause you may not be able to walk, stand, or even move for that manner.
On the opposite side, did you take his Nightwing suit and hand wash it, making it look like the day he first put it on? Sweet lord, you’re a treasure and he’s about to show you why. It’s your anniversary and you got him one of the most beautiful and sentimental gifts? You and your body are about to be treated like an award that he is the sole recipient of. You cussed out Bruce after he did something stupid and reckless again involving Dick or one of the others? Not only is Jason blessing the ground you walk on, Dick’s about to drop down on one knee and propose, and then proceed to treat your body like a slut in the most romantic and sensual way you could ever imagine. As a precaution, still, go ahead and cancel any future plans just in case.
Dick truly has no preference other than whatever he’s feeling at the moment. Long, deep strokes, or quick, fast juts? Whatever gets the job done and reminds you there’s nobody better than him is good in his book.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Dick loves quickies. As chaotic and busy as his life is, he practically lives off them and craves them.
Again, this man should have his headshot in the dictionary next to ‘horny’ or promiscuous. Cause if it was up to him? He’d be screwing you once every 2 hours at least. Whether it’s a quick handjob he’s giving you, or he’s got both your pants down while rapidly fucking into you cause he’s only got five minutes before he has to get back, he’s doing it.
The man thinks they should be protected and enshrined into law. That’s how much he loves them.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’ll try anything and everything under the sun and moon as long as it’s not one of his already-mentioned no-no’s. If it adds excitement to the routine, why not? You never know with that man.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Very adamant stamina. His plentiful experiences have shaped it, and his physical training and endurance have added to it.
That man can do multiple rounds in a night, ranging anywhere from 3-5, and maybe even more if just that kind of night. He also knows his body, and can/will do what he needs to do to drag one round out for as long as he can until not only is he satisfied himself, but he feels he’s adequately satisfied you. And to be clear, you have absolutely no say on whether he feels like he’s satisfied you or not.
So please, get used to the idea of being overstimulated and crying at the 3rd or 4th orgasm he gives you before he’s even had one. It’ll save you a lot of frustration (not really but you get what I mean).
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Dick, who again, will and has tried everything under the moon and sun. Of course, he has toys. What do you think this is? A playground? Please…
And trust, he’s going to get more. He’s probably signed up on a loyalty program with a sex store or website, and best believe he’s got diamond status.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A prayer for the innocent soul who unknowingly awakens the playful, petty, and vindictive part of Dick Grayson’s personality, especially when it comes to sex. May god, the universe, karma, whatever else have mercy on your soul and may the odds ever be in your favor.
There’s a reason I call Dick Grayson a little shit, bastard, fucker, and other various names because that is literally what he is, and I love him the more for it. He doesn’t get angry, upset, or even mad (unless it’s something serious). No, he gets petty, and that turns into him being the most teasing piece of shit in the bedroom, especially if you’ve challenged him in some kind of way.
Orgasm denial, forcing you to be quiet and stay still, sensory overload, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation; all this and he hasn’t even put his tongue on you yet, let alone his dick anywhere near you. That man is vindictive and will play on it until his heart’s content. Please, tread carefully when choosing whether or not you want to fuck with this man, especially if he’s in a mood.
Matter of fact, just run. Actually, don’t do that either. He likes the chase. FUCK! You’re screwed no matter what (metaphorically AND literally).
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Dick gets loud. And he wants you to get equally as loud with him.
He’s not afraid to let out the sluttiest sounds, from soft and quiet moans to loud and debauched shouts from the top of his lungs. He can be quiet if need be, but he’d rather not. He enjoys the idea of people knowing he’s getting lucky and, even more, the idea of people knowing you’re getting lucky from him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
That man has an obsession with doing it in his Nightwing suit. You think he picked that style and aesthetic for something as useless as flexibility, quick movement, and durability? Absolutely not. 
Dick absolutely knew what he was doing when he had his suit designed. He wanted to look like a slut and nothing more, and that's okay! I mean, come on, you think his ass looking that good in his uniform was a coincidence? A mistake? How innocent and naive of you.
Everyone should have known Dick’s true intentions when they saw how sinfully deep the cut was in his first suit that we all know and love as Discowing. That man fully intended for his suit to be something he could fuck up and fuck dudes in while looking hot. It was non-negotiable.
Look at him.
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Like, I'm sorry, but what the hell do you mean I’m not supposed to be turned on and have my legs divorcing like a whore who's being prosecuted in a court of law due to adulterous behavior with this standing in front of me? Are you unwell?!?!?
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Yeah, respectfully no. I will forever headcanon that Dick Grayson knew exactly what he was doing when he had his suits designed, and it was the complete opposite of what everyone was saying.
“Dick is quick and agile."
"He’s lightweight on his feet."
"He needs a suit that will support and accentuate his acrobatic skills.”
Absolutely not. That man is (respectfully in an empowering context) a slut, on the inside and out, and he wanted a suit that would best show it to the world. I will not be gaslit into believing otherwise.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
What Dick lacks in girth, he makes up for in length and skill. He’s definitely not thin, but he's a little under-average when it comes to thickness. Somewhere between 6-7 inches.
More than likely cut, and has a voluptuous head that’s perfect for sucking on and teasing.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
We’ve discussed this in great length, multiple times. It’s self-explanatory at this point. The man is basically the human equivalent of a rabbit or bunny.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Dick can stay up long after the round has been up, especially if he’s in a mood where he wants to talk. Ironically, after fucking like some wild animals with the most questionable mindsets and morals, he loves to shoot the shit and have pillow talk after.
I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but Dick is basically a chatterbox and will ask you about your day, what you had for lunch, who pissed you off at work, and more while still buried inside of your ass with your dick pressed between both your stomachs. He’s also content with turning on the TV or whatever screen is available and watching a movie or something until you both fall asleep. Mind you, he’s probably still inside you and is going to try his best to stay inside even if he’s gone soft and keeps slipping out.
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☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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satoruhour · 4 months
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oh my god, i dont know if you write for this specifically (feel free to disregard if you don’t), but I’ve been thinking about satosugu x reader,,, imagine kissing the both of them!! spending a nice summer day with them!! just being able to enjoy spending time with the two of them!! I dont know if its my love for both of these characters and their relationship, but i just like thinking abt that dynamic,,,
a/n: wrote this yesterday to upload today since it was a loaded day today ❤️ enjoy. hope it’s up to standard cause i havent written fluff in a long time! / 1.3k, poly!satosugu x reader
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sleep-ins were popular amongst the three of you. before you, suguru had his own routine of waking up early to brew some tea for himself, to get the laundry going . .
satoru, on his own, was a light sleeper, sitting straight up at any hint of sound due to his sorcerer duties but after moving in with geto, he’s been letting the long-haired man to do all the work.
and here came you, waltzing back into their lives (and apartment) after teaching at kyoto for just a few months until you couldn’t stand gakuganji and headed right back to your alma mater.
it wasn’t difficult to maintain the dynamic the three of you had from your school days, except maybe unspoken feelings and lingering glances until the two men were gassing each other up to ask you.
you’re not even sure how you even got roped in — old feelings, a crave for the younger days, the allure of satoru, the wonder of suguru — but now you’re stick in between both of them wanting to pee so badly.
alas, your body is trapped under gojo’s protective leg and geto’s gentler wrapped arm, but you still feel your bladder about to burst, trying one last time until your body is slammed back into bed.
“hm . . what’re you doing?” is gojo’s first raspy call out to you as he curls his calf around you even more, and you sigh, turning to him to brush his fringe from his face.
“i need to pee, satoru.”
“no.” and you roll your eyes because he’s always whiny like that and you’d usually employ suguru to do your bidding but he’s fast asleep, still. this was another thing: both you and gojo have inextricably fucked with his routine because now he’s more inclined to sleep in than drink his morning tea. he realised this one day when he was doing laundry, in the afternoon.
“’toru, pleeaasee?” you pout even if he can’t see and like a good boyfriend, he senses your features pulled into a face specifically meant to make him feel bad, and cracks his eyes open.
“oh, youuuu—” gojo scrunches up his eyes and squeezes, and then steals you from geto’s arm, trapping you with tight arms wound around your middle, “stop it with the eyes!”
you giggle, using your free hands to relax the tightness in his brows, using that opportunity to forcibly open his eyes and then you hit him again — knitted eyebrows and doe eyes, and a perfect pout that has gojo grumbling under his breath. silently, you wiggle yourself just enough to reach his face so you can place a peck on his lips and he hums.
another, his eyes say and you indulge him, sinking into his embrace and letting him guide you back to his mouth. morning breath is nothing to the both of you, grinning into the kiss when satoru loses himself and his embrace starts to loosen. the kiss still holds you captive, though, the other moaning softly when you deepen it with some tongue.
“you’re just going to leave me hangin’?” geto’s voice calls out from beside you, and gojo’s excited suguru! gives you just that sliver of time to slip away from the two as they catch up but—
“you’re not going anywhere, missus,” gojo pulls on your arm and you’re falling back into your space in the middle of the both of them, greeted with geto’s lovely laugh and his gentle gaze.
“good morning my loves,” he says, arm draped over the both of you before he leans down to give you a kiss while gojo replies with a good morning as well, also giving a peck to your temple. “what’s on the agenda today?”
“lazing in—”
“i need to pee, firstly,” you pipe up, cutting gojo off and patting his puffed out cheeks. grabbing his face, you wiggle his head just to emphasise your point, “your man here has been preventing me from going to the bathroom.”
“ahem! our man,” gojo corrects, sticking his tongue out just enough to lick your hand and you shriek in disgust while his giggles only fill the room.
“satoru, c’mon, let her go.” and again, the other only cuddles you closer to him, long, lanky limbs trapping your body. geto has a hand on yours like he’s trying his best to console you.
“but— she’s so much nicer to cuddle! did i ever tell you suguru once hit me in the face with his arm?”
and you laugh while the other only sighs and chaos erupts once he stands up and says in faux disappointment — “okay, i’m making breakfast for myself only. guess i lost two partners today.”
“hello?! i didn’t even do anything!” you shout in incredulity, words muffled once gojo slaps a hand over your mouth and laughs, watching through the bathroom mirror at how he chuckles at the both of you. you lick gojo’s hand and he moans obnoxiously.
geto did end up making the both of you some breakfast after some convincing (it was mostly gojo yelling “pleasepleaseplease” in the bathroom and interrupting brushing teeth time), but he’s got around it with a sloppy kiss given to the both of you, sat at the wooden table you commissioned — large enough to bring friends over but small enough for it to feel intimate with your two boyfriends.
“on the real agenda, we need to go for some grocery shopping,” geto suggests, reaching diagonally to you to wipe off the bits of strawberry lingering at the corner of your lips and gojo shouts a loud oh!, running from the table to grab his phone that he’s left on the bedside table. naturally, he has become so enamoured with the both of you that he doesn’t even need his phone to entertain him that much.
“i made the list like you asked, sugu,” and you’re giggling when you see his eyebrow raise, positive that on the list, there was more of what the house didn’t need than what it did.
silently, you’re helping to clear all three of your plates that had coatings of maple syrup on it, apart from gojo’s who licked his squeaky clean. a smile spreads across your face when you hear them bicker, a common occurrence.
“baby, there’s more candy than actual groceries on here.”
“but suguruuuu . .” gojo pulls this all the time and it hardly works on geto any more, so the both of them invade your cleaning escapades to argue. like the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other, satoru sucks up to your boyfriend, suguru appeals to you.
“should we listen to him?” leaning against the counter, geto rests his arm around your torso, sidling right up to your face who only gives him a small grin.
gojo follows suit. “sweetness, don’t listen to him. you know you love the sweets i buy, i’ll even buy you your favourite brand!”
here in this kitchen in the house that gojo had no problem expanding to accommodate the both of you were all that you know in this mess of a world, destined to exorcise curses for as long as you live, but it wasn’t so bad when you had the strongest duo beside you, talking over each other on whether meiji chocolate was more important than buying celery for tonight’s dinner. 
“boys.” turning off the tap, you shake off the water and turn around in their arms only to see what had escalated: geto ready to summon a curse, gojo crossing his fingers in his muryōkūsho pose, all the while keeping an arm around you like everything’s fine. and as chaotic dating the both of them were, you don’t mind putting both their hands down and calming the situation down.
with a laugh, you give one kiss to both cheeks. “let’s just buy both, okay?”
and satoru leaps to hug you, planting endless kisses on your face while suguru sighs, then smiles, defeated. “plus, we can just make ’toru pay for everything, can’t we?”
“and then make him cook tonight.” you suggest, not-so-quietly.
gojo stops, “hey!”
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i didnt write the grocery shopping part since i alr rambled off about it here but maybe next time we’ll see :)
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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How Dick/Jason would do in order let you know that they want your leg on top of his…based on this tiktok cuz I thought it was cute.
Dick:
He will poke, prod and pluck at your legs without even attempting to actually pick them up at all. He expects you to pick up on his ‘subtle’ signalling and drape your legs over his without him having to utter a word.
So when you don’t do exactly that Dick would then pout and huff as though something was deeply wrong, which never failed to make you laugh at his insatiable need for your affection. It’s cute but sometimes you wished that he uses his voice rather than expect you to know the goings on in his mind 24/7…
‘What’s on your mind Dickie bird.’ You’d have to ask him, otherwise you’ll never get anywhere you’d like fast enough. ‘Nothing.’ He’d mutter under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest, popping out his bottom lip.
You sigh. ‘Would you like me to drape my legs over yours?’ Dick visibly perked up at this and you have to stifle your laughter as you could only imagine a pair of dog ears on his head, also perked up straight as his nonexistent tail wags rapidly in excitement.
Such a puppy. You thought to yourself as he looked at you with impatience.
‘I thought you’d never ask.’ Dick says and his excitement only went through the roof the moment you draped your legs over his own as he was quick to rest his hands on your thighs, giving you an impromptu massage, smiling widely as though he had just won in life.
Jason:
At first when he was still getting use to physical touch and finding what he was and wasn’t comfortable, he would send multiple glances towards your legs as his hand twitched at his side, looking about as uncomfortable and stiff as a board.
Now however he just picks up your legs and drapes them over his own without a second thought as his calloused hand rubs at your thighs. He doesn’t piss about anymore, if he wants your legs draped over his, he will make that want of his known by doing just that.
Jason wanted you constantly touching him in someway.
It didn’t matter where or what you were touching, Jason just needed you touching him in order to have a good day, for if you don’t hug him or tap the back of his hand thrice to signal your love for him, then what was the point of doing anything. Your touch was his personal good luck charm, without it he was better of dead…again.
While it may not like much to many outside of your relationship but whenever you and him were remotely touching, it felt as though heaven had came to the apartment, bathing it in heavenly light and warmth as you and Jason leaned against one another smiling in content.
To Jason whenever you’re touching him, even if it was as small as linking pinkies, was absolute heaven and he wasn’t one to give that so easily.
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getosbigballsack · 7 days
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I couldn't resist posting this random thought while on hiatus, but here I go.
Just imagine married man Gojo smashing he baby mother who he cheated with on his wife.
It wasn't a mistake, but at the same time, it wasn't supposed to happen that way. It was only one time, a night drunk off ecstacy and pure lust, you found yourself locked up in the arms of a man you knew you should not be mingling with. That's how you ended up with his 7 month old baby.
He's married man, with a beautiful wife and an eight year old son. He was a loving man respected by his peers, loved by his peers until he announced that he knocked up "a" girl who worked in a diner at the far side of town.
Just as mentioned, it wasn't supposed to happened but it did, and now the baby's here and every so present in the life he has with the wife. People hoped that maybe, just maybe Gojo would've come to his senses and may change for the better.
But a leapord never changes it spots. You can't teach an old dog new tricks because as soon as you gave birth or even before you gave birth to your child, Gojo was living in your home, in womb day and night, feeding you with nothing but your cravings and that includes his cock. Not that you mind, even though his peers and his wife called you a home wrecker.
You never asked for this. As a matter of fact, Gojo chased you for months before he finally got to taste what between your legs, and once you gave it up to him, he just couldn't leave your side.
Besides, how could you possibly turn down the opportunity to be a rich man's sugar baby, married or not? You loved the money, the spoils (and also his dick).
What's a rich married man without a sugar baby hm. You loved it, though you know it's not a good look for you. But who cares? It's your life.
And despite the warnings you receive about mingling in a married man's affair, you're still there ever so present with him baby at your side, his arms around your shoulders and his lips against yours, kissing you as though his wife was watching you from across the room.
Oh yes, he does that. Inviting you out to events, flaunting that new designer dress and shoes, in front of his friends and colleagues, smiling ever so happily while holding your baby, his baby on your hip, just letting them know that you're not going anywhere soon.
Especially now that you're the mother of his second child, maybe even third, considering that he's currently pounding away at your sweet little cunt. Locked up in his bedroom at the west wing of his home, the Gojo estate. You're desperately throwing your hips back at him, tits heavy and filled with milk slapping harshly against your chest with each thrust.
And you're screaming, crying, from pleasure, thanking yourself for leaving your baby to sleep in the east wing with Gojo’s grandma while Gojo fucked the shit of you in the west. So mesmerized by the sight of your leaking nipples, Gojo pulled you up by your arms, his chest glat against your back and his arms draping over your chest to keep you pressed tightly against him as he continued to dig you out the right way.
So lost in pleasure, and calling him daddy desperately begging him to fill you up with his seed. His wife came bursting through the door, eyes bloodshot, hair a tangled mess, and oh that reeking odor. Alcohol? Whatever it is, it stinks? But that didn't stop Gojo from pounding into you. I'd anything he smirked at her, slow his thrust while squeezing you milk filled breast to poke at her. And boy did he poke at her good. She was flaring...
She stood their for a while, watching as Gojo fucked you in a way he had never fucked her. I'm jealous at how well you are taking his cock deep inside your pussy. She watched you both for a while until Gojo spoke, "what wanna fuck her too wife? I know she's hot... hotter and tighter and wetter than you could ever be. Wanna know what a wet pussy is supposed to feel?"
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colonelarr0w · 1 month
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This is self-indulgent comfort because hey, guess who just read chapter 236?
Also, consider this my official apology for this post.
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This wasn't real.  
"C'mon Satoru, get up," you all but beg, fingers folding uncomfortably into one another as you stare forward. You already know that everyone else is staring at you, watching you, gauging their own reactions based off of what you display.  
He wasn't losing, was he? 
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, continuing to watch as he pushed himself further and further towards a limit that you didn't know if he could bounce back from. The pit in your stomach only grew with each blow that he sustained, it grew with each drop of blood he lost and it grew with each Domain Expansion that he managed to pull off. 
No. He was the strongest, he'd be fine. 
At your side is Yuuji, his hand holding onto yours so tightly that you can feel your bones begin to crack. Even with the slightly uncomfortable sensation, you say nothing – Yuuji needed to feel the comfort of something familiar, and that just so happened to be you.  
And then … silence. 
Satoru Gojo … on the floor … eyes staring blankly up at the sky … blood everywhere.  
"…'toru?" 
You begin to tremble, the shake beginning in your fingers before slowly traveling up your body like a snake, coiling and twisting over your bones and biting into you – its fangs leaving behind a poisonous panic. 
"Satoru--!" 
"Hmm? Wha – what happened?"  
Your eyes shoot open, beads of sweat dripping down your forehead and making your hair cling uncomfortably to your skin. Your body propels itself upward, feet kicking off the blankets that cover you – it was warm, too warm.  
"Hey, hey, what's goin' on?"  
Your head swivels to the side, nearly giving yourself whiplash. There, at your side, is that familiar tuft of snowy-white hair and bright aquamarine eyes that soften at the panicked expression you wear. Satoru. 
You open your mouth to say something, but instead of a coherent sentence, all your body is able to produce is a broken sob. And right on cue, Satoru's arms are locked around you, tugging you to his chest and allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. 
Your nails bite into his back as you sob into him, body trembling with the weight of your cries. Though the feeling of you scratching him was a touch painful, there was nothing that would stop him from comforting you – not when you were this distressed.  
"Hey … hey. Shh, 'm right here," Satoru murmurs into your hair, laying gentle kisses against your hairline as his fingers rub comforting circles into the small of your back. "Shh." 
You feel yourself begin to calm as the familiar tingle of Infinity washes over you, draped over your shoulders like a blanket fresh from the dryer. Its warmth reminds you of the safety that Satoru's arms provide, how he would never let anything happen to you. That you were safe. That he was safe.  
That whatever you saw when your eyes were closed was nothing but a story told by your imagination.  
"Don't leave me 'toru … ever," you mumble into Satoru's shirt, voice breaking to release a small sob. His arms tighten around you, cheek pressing into your hair. He can feel his heart tightening in his chest – mind wrapping around just how small you sounded. How desperate. Frail.  
He sighs, craning his neck and laying his palm against your cheek, lifting your head and guiding your tear-filled gaze to meet his softened one. His lips turn upward in a smile, the pad of his thumb swiping against the tears that roll silently down your cheeks.  
"Hey, there she is," he murmurs warmly, tone dripping with affection and a softness that he could only ever reserve for you. Satoru leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. At the contact, your eyes momentarily shut, as if committing the very feeling of him against you to memory.  
"I'm here. Not goin' anywhere just yet." 
His thumb swipes against your bottom lashes, wiping away those last few tears that cling so desperately to your waterline, wanting to fall but not being brave enough to make the final choice. Satoru smiles again – silently wanting you to do the same.  
Even though your heart still aches and your mind still reminds you of what you had seen … you smile too.  
Because deep down, in that little safe kept in your chest, you know that Satoru wouldn't go down so easily. At the end of the day, just like he had promised you … 
... he would always be on the other side of the front door.  
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