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nanaslutt · 10 months

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Bodyswap w/ Gojo part 2

part 1, here

Contains: fem reader, caught masturbating, teasing, dirty talk, rough sex :3, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, kinda selfcest?? (they’re in each others body’s while they fuck), spanking

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Ahh! F-fuck, mmm-" Gojo's voice could be heard from the other side of the door, with squelching accompanying the lewd moans into the hallway. Gojo pressed your body up to the door quietly, listening to you use his body to get off after telling him to not even look at yours in the shower. Someone's a little hypocrite~ he internally cooed, fighting back a giggle.

As full of Gojo was of himself, he wasn't the type of guy to get off on his own moans, but he did find it arousing that you were in his body and were using him like some slut for your own pleasure. He waited patiently until he heard his body cum, still pressed against the door until the sighing and shuffling on the other side of the door died before he knocked to announce his arrival.

Here the two of you lie, in your room in silence while Gojo stares at the poorly tucked away cum rag you used to clean up your mess under your bed. "Ahh~ I always feel so much better after a shower." He sighs, starting up a conversation. "Mmm, me too." You mumbled, still staring at the ceiling from your place on the bed. "Yeah? Why don't you go take one?" He asked, walking over to your bed and making himself comfortable as he lay against your pillows.

"Gross Satoru, I'm not taking a shower in this body, unless I have to.. and who said you could sit on my bed?" You chastized, setting yourself up on your forearms to look at him, finding that it was still hard to make eye contact. Every time you did you were reminded of what a pervert you had been, and how you probably almost got caught.

"No? You don't feel dirty?" He asked pouting out his bottom lip teasingly, insistent on keeping his eyes glued to yours even tho yours tried to avoid his like the plague. "Why would I feel dirty? You had your infinity on during the fight, you're spotless." You rambled. "Maybe, but don't you feel the need to wash up after you cum?" He said, leaning your head in his hands as he smiled at you from under your lashes.

You felt your entire body heat up at his words, you had the same feeling as when you took one too many candies as a kid and your parents called you out for it. You could feel your face heat up and your palms become sweaty. You tried to play dumb, making brief eye contact with your body and noticing the smug look Gojo had manipulated on its face, before plopping your head back down on the bed as you laid flat and made yourself at home by staring at the ceiling once more.

"W-why is that relevant?" You questioned, hoping somehow that Gojo hadn't somehow caught on to what you did in his body, you thought you had been so careful! "Playing coy doesn't sound good when it's coming from my voice~" He said, dragging out his words for emphasis as he sat straight, looking down at his form as you lay still on the bed. Fuck, how did his technique work again? He could teleport, right, maybe if you just closed your eyes realllly hard and focused you could excape this horribly awkward conversation.

You tried, you really did, but to no avail. When you opened your eyes you were still looking at your tan ceiling, and you still saw your body looking down at you through your peripherals. "Did it feel good?" He asked, making your face heat up. "It sounded like it felt good." He giggled. "Y-you were listening?" You gasped, looking into your eyes now as the two of you kept eye contact. "I don't think that really matters when you violated my body when I was away~" He cooed, making a strong point. You still couldn't help but feel embarrassed thinking about how much me might've heard.

"S-Satoru I'm sorry, really, I have no excuses I just- fuck I don't even know what came over me." You blushed, trying to keep eye contact with yourself to seem more sincere as you spoke to him. "Ahh~ I cant believe you would do this after you yelled at me to not even look at your body~" He said dramatically, wrapping your arms around your body to block off your view and make you look smaller as he pretended to feel violated.

The white-haired man was having so much fun right now, it wasn't every day he got to tease you like this, so he figured why not drag it out a bit. You started apologizing profusely, saying over and over how sorry you were before your own laugh cut you off. "S-sorry." He stuttered through a laugh, whipping his own smile off your face as he dropped your chin down to look at you in faux seriousness. Something told you he didn't care as much as he said he did.

"It's amusing to hear you grovel like this, I didn't mean to laugh out loud." He confessed, making your face heat up in annoyance. You were mad that you had zero ground to chastise him right now as if he really was upset about this whole thing, you didn't want to make it any worse. "It did feel good though right?" He asked again, biting your lip as he scooted closer to his body. "My cock is sooo sensitive I bet you were having a field day~ I don't blame you for not being able to stop~" He sympathized, using your hand to rub over his abs, a sensation that made your skin tingle under his touch.

"S-satoru-" You tried to interrupt him, "Did you play with my balls too? I never last long when I do that." He added, lowering his hand to rub over his v-line as he watched the tent in his pants grow slowly and steadily at his words. "Satoru what are you d-doing?" You managed to ask, his voice coming out meek and submissive. The man hummed, caressing his hand lower and lower until he reached the band of his sweats, teasing your fingertips under the waistline.

"I guess I'm just a little envious that you got to experience cumming in my body, and I didn't even get to look at yours~" He pouted, playing dumb. He made a good point, you had perved out on his own body like this when you set such strict rules for him, that he sounded like he actually followed. "So what does that mean?" You asked hesitantly, swallowing hard when he pulled back his pants and boxers before letting them snap back against your skin. "Well.. you must be a little curious to see what fucking something other than my hand feels like, right?" He asked, hitting the nail on the head.

"Satoru if you're talking about us having sex right now I don't-" Your voice cut you off, you felt a hand start to rub in tantalizing circles over the tent in your pants, and you quickly dropped your gaze away from your face to watch. "That's exactly what I had in mind~" He cooed, tilting his head at you while he rubbed his cock in your smaller hand. "Isn't that.. going to be uncomfortable?" You asked, surprising Gojo when you weren't immediately put off by the idea, the hand that was rubbing his cock definitely aiding in your answer.

"Does it feel uncomfortable?" He asked, sliding his hand under the waistband of his boxers as he gripped his cock with your hand and started stroking it directly. As good as pleasure felt in your body, he wished he could feel you touch his cock like this, but maybe after this, he would have an easier time getting you into bed when things went back to normal. "Hmm? Does it?" He cooed in your voice, making you blush at how seductive you sounded.

"F-feels good but-" You choked out through a moan, your breath hitching when Gojo slung your body to sit on top of himself as he used your free hand to cover his mouth, stopping your words. "Just look at me in the mirror if fucking your body is too weird~" He giggled, watching as your eyes looked past your body sitting on top of you as you made eye contact with Gojo's body in the mirror. "I for one don't mind looking at myself like this, I've definitely had a wet dream about this before." He giggled, easing your nerves at his unseriousness, you doubted he was joking either.

He released the hand that was covering your mouth as he pulled his boxers down enough for his dripping cock to spring out. "Fuck, are you that wet because of the situation, or is that all my body's doing?" He laughed, rubbing his pointer finger over the top of his dick as he tapped the precum agaisnt it, making a lewd wet 'plp' sound. "S-shut up." You groaned through your teeth, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten when he wrapped his hand around himself again and started stroking at a propper pace. "Shit, this is so weird, heh." Gojo laughed, the feeling of looking at himself while he jerked himself off, out of body, was truly an experience.

"This was y-your idea, don't complain now." You said in his voice, watching intently at his hand that moved over his cock expertly. His precise and knowledgeable movements felt a hell of a lot better than your own, and the visual of your hand dwarfed by his massive cock was a sight to behold, one that aided in your growing arousal. "Yeah, yeah." He said, briefly sitting up as he pulled your shorts and panties down your body, leaving his cock hanging twitching in the air between the two of you as he disrobed your body.

The man turned around and faced himself in the mirror as he sat on top of you, the bottom half of your body bare as he pulled your shirt over your body and feasted his eyes on your naked form. "Shit, actually.." He smirked, biting his lip as he ran your hands down your body seductively. "Fuck me like this, wanna watch your body move while you do it." He said, reaching behind you to grab his dick again and stroke it while he continued admiring your body.

"Satoru please don't look it's embarrassing." You begged, covering your face with his massive hands as your entire body felt like it was on fire from the arousal and combined embarrassment. "Im about to watch you get fucked, you might wanna get over your fears." He giggled. "Besides, you're fucking hot, can feel your body gettin' all horny from just lookin' at it." He confessed in your voice, making you whine. The man grabbed his dick and lifted his body over his cock, looking down to line it up with your entrance before he pressed the tip against your hole.

"W-wait Satoru a condom-" You warned when you felt him start to sit down on you. "Trust me, you do not want a condom on when you feel this." He said, gasping when his tip popped past the tight ring of your cunt. Every alarm that was going off in your head melted away when you felt the tight and warm sensation envelop his cock, you felt his balls twitch and tighten the more he sat down on his cock, you would worry about the lack of a condom later.

"Fuuuuuck, that's the shit~" He groaned, bottoming out on his cock while he placed his hands on his body's knees and stared at your body in the mirror, specifically where the two of you were connected. "I feel so fucking f-fulll~" He wined, wiggling his hips in circles on your lap as he tried to adjust to the feeling of having a cock inside him for the first time. His dick was pressing up against all the right spots in your walls he didn't even find when he was fingering your cunt earlier in the shower, this was a hundred times better than your pathetic digits, he started to understand why girls kept blowing up his phone after a one night stand now.

"I- I think I'm gonna cum- p-please don't move." You wined, using Satoru's massive hands to grip your body's waist hard enough to leave bruises as you tried to make sure he couldn't even wiggle around. "I wouldn't mind feeling that~" He said, referring to you filling him up. You tilted your head back and took some deep breaths to steady yourself. Your cunt was incredibly warm and wet it felt like it was going to melt his dick as he sat still on you. The strong warmth that had blossomed in your tummy was almost overbearing, and your head was spinning at all the stimulation.

You knew Gojo was experienced, so how did it still feel this good? How did it still feel so sensitive? Was it because it was your first time feeling anything like it? You chalked it up to that, your train of thought getting cut off when your voice spoke through the room.

"Can I move? This fucking cunt is aching for it." Satoru wined, trying to wiggle his hips in your strong grip. "I think so." You nodded when he looked at you for your approval. It was so freaky seeing someone else control your body, but the pleasure of your own cunt squeezing around the cock you temporarily had eased your nerves significantly. "You might have to help me out, never rode a dick before." He giggled in your voice, turning his head back to look at your body in the mirror as he lifted his weight until his dick was almost completely out of him, before he sat all of your weight back down on his cock.

"Oh- fuck-" Gojo wined in your voice, coming out a little more submissive than he would've liked. He quickly started a fast pace bounding on your lap, your jaw dropped open as you allowed yourself to feel everything. "Y-eah it feels fucking good d-doesn't it?" Gojo tried to laugh through a moan, your voice getting louder when you started fucking his hips up into your body, poisoning his dick in and out of the man who possessed your body.

Gojo was right, you could think of nothing worse than something like a condom blocking your direct contact from feeling your tight walls wrap around his cock like this. You were impressed by your strength in this body when you used your grip on the body on top of you to lift it up and bring it down harder on his cock, making him scream out while your breathing picked up.

"S-so roughh~" Gojo smiled at his current body in the mirror, abandoning one of his hands that had stabilized himself on your thigh to rub his clit in fast circles, making your walls squeeze his dick tightly. "God Satoru- loosen" thrust "up!" you grit in his voice, your eyes threatening to roll back in your head at how intense the feeling of your pulsing walls around his dick felt. "C-cant ohmygod c-cumming!" He cried suddenly, his back arching forward as your cunt spasmed around his cock.

You fucked him through his orgasm, loud short wines and curses fell from his lips as he came, his body jerked as the waves crashed over him, his body going limp in your hold. You took the opportunity to manhandle your body, quickly turning the two of you around in one swift movement you forced him into a weak doggystyle position, his face being pressed into the sheets while drool dripped out from the corner of his lips.

You couldn't let up on his cunt, the pulsing around his cock was an amazing feeling and you were determined to feel it again, Gojo pressed your thighs together and crossed your feet at the overstimulation he was feeling as mindless babbles and whines of your own name could be heard in your voice underneath you. You prayed no one was around the dorms at this time, as they might be a little confused on what they were hearing right now.

"Fuck- make me c-cum again give it to me g-give it to me" He whined, his words being slurred into one as you fucked heavy and mean thrusts into his cunt. You don't know what came over you, but the need to respond and talk dirty back to him was overwhelming you, "Yeah? Wanna cum all over this cock again?" You said, making yourself blush as you aroused yourself hearing his dirty words in your ears. "Y-e-ssssss fuckk~" Gojo whined into the sheets, a cock-drunken smile plastered on his face as he took everything your gave him.

You felt his balls coil tighter, the knot in his stomach tying itself harder into knots as you fucked a particularly soft spot inside your cunt. The telltale sign of Gojo's orgasm was creeping over his body, making your thrusts grow sloppy. Gojo laughed from underneath you, the sound being chopped up by moans. "Y-you're gonna c-cum arent you?" He teased, trying to look at you out of the corner of his eye.

You probably should've felt more uncomfortable with how arousing fucking your own body was, but you would probably dream about this night for years to come, so you could ponder about that later.

The expression Gojo had on your face was so pretty, you had to admit. Your eyes kept rolling back in your head each time you fucked into him, the fucked out smile he had on, the moans that were forced out of your mouth, and the way your cunt pulsed around you pushed you over the edge.

Gojo whined when he felt you still against his ass, "Yeahhhh fill me up, fuck your cum into me~" He whined, taking advantage of being in your body to say shit you would never say, for his own pleasure. He bit his lip at how warm his cum was when it shot rope after rope inside him. Your clit was throbbing at the feeling, he so badly wanted to reach down and pet it till he came as well, but he would wait till you started fucking into him again.

Right when you started coming down from your orgasm, something akin to the feeling of a back scratch, or getting your head massaged at the salon washed over the two of you. Suddenly you had an intense ache in your lower back, and your tummy felt strangely warm. "Heh, what a fucking twist~" You heard Gojo's voice coo down at you, only this time, you weren't in control of it anymore. "I wanted to feel my cock cum inside your cunt while I was in your body one last time, but now I can feel it from my own." He grinned maliciously.

Even though Gojo had just cum, he started fucking into you like a madman, the squelching between your legs was so much louder now as your combined cum gathered around the base of his thick cock. "Have fun in my body?" He asked, giggling with his signature headache inducing giggle, "You liked cumming inside something? Glad you didnt use a condom huhhh~?" He teased, pulling his hips back to the tip before he fucked his entire occk back into you, making you scream out.

Gojo had adjusted surprisingly quick, I guess that makes sense for the world's strongest sorcerer. You on the other hand were still trying to come to terms with being in your own body again and having practically no time to adjust to the feeling of his cock before he started bullying it into your walls. It's not like it hurt, but the feeling of him fucking into your sweet spot so rough was almost too much. "Oh, you were aching down here~" Gojo remembered, reaching his hand under your body to rub your clit in little circles. "Let me help you~" He cooed, sucking air in through his teeth when your cunt tightened around him at the addition of stimulation.

"S-toru wa-ittt-" You cried, trying to warn him of how close you were but ultimately falling short. Your walls started to spasm around him as your body came for the nth time that night. "Oh shiiit~ Feels so fucking good baby-" Gojo groaned, letting his head fall back and his jaw drop in a small o as you came hard around his length, and he actually got to feel it this time. Your body was completely limp to his mean thrusts, your eyes rolling back as nonsense spilled from your lips as he fucked you through your orgasm, past overstimulation, and towards another high.

He lifted your tummy up from underneath you and pressed down on your lower back simultaneously to get you in a meaner arch, before he went back to rubbing your clit. The man placed his foot next to your body to give himself more leverage to fuck you harder, and that's exactly what he did. "Tell me you need my cum- cmon baby- say it-" He cooed, gritting his teeth together as he used your cunt to work himself up to his orgasm.

His eyes darted between the mess the two of you were creating at your fucked out, drooling face. He pulled back his hold on your hip to leave a mean spank against your ass, making you yelp out into the room. "What did I say, huh? Don't fucking ignore me when I'm this close~" Gojo chastized, shaking his head. "N-eed your cum 'toruuu" You slurred, "W-ant to feel you fill me up-" You begged, your words being chopped up by his mean thrusts.

"Again," Gojo said, leaving another smack on the fat of your ass. "C-cum inside mee~" You repeated. "Again," Another smack. "Toru- toru- toru-" You repeated his name as he groaned through his teeth. He felt his balls tighten quickly before he was thrown into his orgasm. His body jerked as his hips fucked load after load into your used and abused cunt. He released a long groan when he stilled his hips to your ass and let himself finish. Your moans had quieted as you laid under him, whimpering softly each time he fucked into you but otherwise trying to catch your breath from how hard he just gave it to you.

Once Gojo had released all of his seed into you, he pulled his sore cock out and gripped himself at the base as the both of you groaned in oversensitivily. "Fuck, think you milked me dry after that one." He laughed, pulling your pussy lips to the side to get a better view of your stuffed hole that leaked his cum in a steady drip down the back of your thighs. "I don't think I've ever been so sore in my life." You said quietly into the sheets, making him giggle.

"I think that was my fault, I might've worked your cunt a little too hard in the shower." He said, letting your body drop down onto the bed as he sat beside you and rubbed your thigh soothingly. You stayed silent for a couple beats before his words registered in your head. Worked too hard in the shower? What? Wait.. did he?

Your jaw dropped, you turned your head to look at him with an incredulous look on your face while he smiled with faux innocence down at you. "You fucking hypocrite! You made me feel bad for masturbating in your body when it sounds like you went ape shit on mine!" The man just giggled infuriatingly, "I like teasing you~ I'm sorryyyy~ You practically handed the opportunity to me!" He defended, throwing his hands up in the air.

You sighed, looking away from his irritatingly handsome face as you shut your eyes and curled your body on your side feeling a headache start to come on. "Oh come onnn~ We had a good time~" The man's voice resonated in your ears while he wrapped his large body around yours and started placing kisses on your shoulder to ease your frustration. Was it possible to kill a curse twice? You sighed as your body relaxed against him, your exhausted body welcoming the kisses.

Jujutsu sources are the worstttt..

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rowarn · 1 year

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MONSTER (m.)

neighbor!simon riley x reader

tags: zombie apocalypse au, neighbors to lovers, afab!reader, no pronouns, hurt/comfort, smut, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

cw: description of corpses, simon is aggressive towards you, but also very soft!simon, protective!simon, violence, simon does murder someone, lots of kissing, wet&messy sex, multiple orgasms, edging (simon), missionary position, mating press, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, breast play, squirting, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, eye contact, praise, teeny bit talkin u thru it

note: i think that's all the neccessary warnings but if u think smthn else should be added, let me know. please enjoy this MONSTER fic!!!

; you find yourself hiding out in your apartment as the undead begin walking. luckily, you have a well-trained military operative as a neighbor who is more than willing to keep you safe.

16.5k

“Residents are advised to remain in their homes. Authorities are unsure what is causing the severe aggression in people but the military has been called in nationwide. Please stay tuned as more information becomes available.”

That was the first news broadcast. They reported people getting sick-- airborne is what they had said. Stay inside, and stay away from other people.

So you did just that – stayed hidden away in your apartment, glued to your television for every possible news cast that you could get.

It was only a week later that the whole story had come out.

The airborne strain is what caused the first swell of infections. Anyone who was susceptible to the infection would have already become sick by now. But those who were infected by the airborne strain turned…feral. They became like wild animals, barely human. Their skin rotted around them while they were still alive. Their brains died but their hearts remained pumping. They were walking corpses that had a vicious hunger for human flesh.

The bites are what caused the following wave of infections. Something in their saliva turned you into whatever they were.

You were scared. When you looked outside your window, down just a few floors to the ground, you could see hordes of people stumbling around, shuffling and shambling.

Sometimes you would hide in your bathroom as the sounds of gunfire filled the city. It was the worst when it was the middle of the night.

You weren’t equipped to deal with a disaster of this level – humans turning into disease spreading killers. You were having to ration your food, waiting for the day that there would be an announcement that it was safe.

You wanted it all to be over.

Then the news broadcasts stopped, cell service dropped, and the populace was left in the dark.

You kept the lights off in your apartment, scared that the wandering hordes outside would see it and find you.

You had no idea how long you had been hiding in your apartment, spending most nights with your knees to your chest as you watched the static on the TV. You held out hope that the news broadcast would come back, but it never did. You spent the days and nights in mundane monotony, hopelessness settling in.

The only interruption was a heavy knock on your front door, practically making you jump out of your skin at the sound of it. You hadn’t expected anyone to actually approach your apartment in search of you. It terrified you that anyone could be out there at a time like this.

With wide eyes and trembling hands, you grabbed a kitchen knife off of your counter and tiptoed towards the front door. Peeking through the peep-hole, you let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Throwing the door open, you were faced with the familiar balaclava of your neighbor across the hall.

“Simon…” you whispered in relief.

He wasn’t lunging nor did he have the milky-white eyes of the undead that you had seen on the news. He was normal.

“What’re you planning to do with that?” he asked, eyeing the kitchen knife still in your hand.

“Oh!” you gasped, quickly placing it on the table by your front door, “Sorry, you– you– startled me when you knocked. Would you like to come in?”

His lidded, brown eyes gaze around your apartment behind you before landing on you again, “You have anyone else in there?”

You blink and slowly shake your head, “No, I’m alone.”

His brows furrow at that, “You’ve been by yourself this whole time?”

You shrug and nod, “What else was I supposed to do? The news reports said to stay inside…”

He hums, “Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine,” you respond quickly, “Why?”

Suddenly there’s a hand on your forehead and you realize he’s checking your temperature. You remain still and allow him to do it before he's shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Fever’s the first symptom,” he explains, “I’m goin’ door to door to check on everyone.”

“Oh!” you gasp, smiling, “That’s very nice of you, Simon.”

You knew that Simon was in the military. He was often out on long deployments and sometimes he had tasked you with keeping an eye on his apartment since you were right across the hall from him.

He was a nice enough guy, if not a little cold and blunt. He was tall and broad, clearly well built despite the fact that he usually wore a hoodie that hid his biceps from view. You’d gotten glimpses of his tattoos when you had knocked on his door one evening and asked him if he knew anything about water heaters because your hot water had been out for nearly a month in the dead of winter and the apartment manager hadn’t done anything to help you.

Simon had kindly come to your apartment, even though it was nearing midnight, rolled his sleeves up and fixed your problem within the hour. You had baked him cookies as a thank you that following weekend.

“How is everyone doing..?” you venture to ask, leaning against the doorjamb as a breeze flows into your apartment from the open door.

He casts a glance down the hallway, almost like he’s thinking before sighing, “Few people are sick. They’ve been…” he hesitates for a moment, “Quarantined.”

“Probably for the best,” you respond, “Keep them from hurting anyone when they…turn.”

It feels so surreal to be talking about confining people to keep them from literally eating the healthy people. But it seems that’s where you’re all at now.

“I’m going to barricade our floor,” he says suddenly, “Keep anyone from comin’ in that’s not supposed to come in.”

“What if we need to leave?” you ask, concerned, “We’re only going to have finite food and resources between us. The power’s also going to go out sooner rather than later, Simon.”

“I know,” he sighs, “But we should stay indoors for as long as possible. When the power runs out and we run out of supplies, we can figure out what to do next,” he explains, “The military was on the ground here last I heard, you’ve heard the gunshots. I don’t believe they’ll last much longer but it’s not wise for us to go out while they’re tryin’ to eliminate as many of these…undead as they can.”

“I guess that makes sense…” you whisper before his words finally settle on you, “What do you mean you don’t think they’ll last much longer..?”

He levels a hard stare at you that makes your heart race in anxiety. Simon was always a serious individual by nature but this is how you imagine he looks when he’s on duty, “Hundreds of thousands of people are sick out there. The airborne strain no doubt got to hundreds of the soldiers meant to be protecting the civilians. Eventually, they’ll eat each other from the inside out –literally.”

“You mean even the military is going to collapse..?” you ask, horrified. You try not to let the tears fill your eyes but Simon’s words fill you with a dreadful sense of hopelessness.

“Communications are cut,” he says finally, “Radio’s been silent all day. Not sure what’s goin’ on but it’s not good.”

The tears quickly began to fall down your cheeks. Before you could wipe them away, a calloused thumb was doing it. You sniffled and looked up at him.

“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you confessed softly, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive, Simon.”

“Don’t you worry about that, love,” he whispered, grabbing your chin gently to make you look up at him, “I’ll take care of you, yeah?”

“I don’t want to be a burden…” you explain, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I took care of you,” he joked, though it held little humor, “You won’t be a burden. I’ll teach you what you need to know, alright?”

“You will?” he nods when you look up at him hopefully and you smile, “Thank you, Simon. I don’t really want to die by getting eaten by walking corpses.”

He chuckled under his mask, brown eyes crinkling around the edges a bit, “It is pretty fuckin’ mad, isn’t it?” You laugh, the first genuine smile you’ve cracked since before that first news broadcast, “Why don’t you come across the hall and stay with me, yeah?”

“Is that okay..?” You can’t deny the idea of being with company sounded more appealing than anything. You were definitely beginning to feel the ebbs of loneliness creeping in on you as the days of silence passed. Plus, Simon was…safe, “The news said not to…mingle in case of the disease spreading.”

He scoffed, “Rules like that don’t really apply anymore, love,” he mutters softly, “Plus, neither of us is sick so it’s not like we’ll spread it anyway. I can teach you some knife work and how to use a gun easier if we’re together, yeah?”

“Okay,” you smile, excitement surging in your chest, replacing the painful void of hopelessness you had, “Let me just get some things together and I’ll be right over, okay?”

“Sounds good, love,” you can tell he’s smiling under the mask. He gives you a pat on the shoulder before stepping away, “Just knock when you’re ready.”

You stand in your doorway until he disappears into his apartment. Once you’re alone, you cast a cursory glance around your living room, eyeballing everything you need to take before you dash into your bedroom. From the back of your closet, you grab a duffle bag that you have stowed away in the back of your closet from when you first moved in.

Navigating in the dark of your apartment was a bit of a challenge but you managed to stuff all the essentials into the bag. After slinging it over your shoulder, you step out of your apartment, making sure it was locked before knocking on Simon’s door.

He opened it quickly, still wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and balaclava as before – his hood still up as well. He stepped aside for you to enter.

Unlike you, his apartment was illuminated by lamps – but his windows were covered with blackout curtains so no light would seep outside. It was pretty plainly decorated, just the essentials and a few photographs on the walls; upon closer inspection it looked like him and, you assumed, his comrades.

You went to place your bag down but he stopped you, “I cleared out a drawer for you to put your clothes in for the time bein’.”

“Oh…” you gaped at him, surprised to hear that he had done something like that for you, “Thank you, Simon.”

He led you to his bedroom, standing in the hallway while you walked in. His bedroom was darkly decorated, black out curtains on the windows, navy blue sheets and a black comforter on his bed. His furniture was all dark toned as well.

It suited him, you thought.

There were two drawers open and empty, letting you know that those were yours for the taking. You knelt down and opened your duffle bag, carefully folding and placing your items inside. When you got to your undergarments, you cast a glance towards the door to find that he was no longer standing there. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly filled the top drawer with all of your delicates before closing the drawers and standing up.

Flicking on the light to his en suite bathroom, you placed your toothbrush and toothpaste alongside his, the sight making you blush before you went to add your belongings into the shower as well.

Realistically, you knew that the water was going to go out sooner or later but you planned to enjoy it for as long as you possibly could until then.

When you ventured into the living room, Simon was in the kitchen, the cabinets open as he scanned over all of his belongings.

“Is something wrong..?” you asked softly.

“Thinkin’ of how to ration,” he replied quickly, “Have you got any stuff over at yours still?”

You nod your head, “It’s not much but I have some canned food and like...rice and stuff if you want that.”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to consolidate all our supplies in the long run,” he explained, “You got your keys?”

“Yes!” you pull your keyring from your pocket and drop it into his open palm.

“I’ll be right back love, make yourself at home,” he gave you a gentle nudge towards the couch before leaving you there.

You took a seat on the couch, realizing just how tired you were. You hadn’t realized how tense you’re been for so long on your own. Now that you were safe and with company, you could almost feel the tension sliding right off of you. You rested your head against the back of the couch and closed your eyes, intending to just rest your eyes and enjoy the peace you felt.

You were startled awake by the sound of the door slamming shut. You nearly jumped out of your skin, wide eyes finding Simon’s who looked a little sheepish.

“Sorry, love,” he whispered, “Didn’t realize you’d be sleepin’.”

“Didn’t mean to…” you confess, standing up and stretching, watching Simon lug a bag of food into the kitchen.

“Haven’t been sleepin’ well?” he asked, his back to you as he began to stock up the cabinets.

“Not really…” with a sigh, you lean back against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest, “I’ve been stressed about this whole situation.”

“It is…” he pauses in his words, placing a bag of dried beans into the cabinet, “Nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Society is really collapsing around us, isn’t it?” you bravely ask, although you were scared to hear the answer.

“Yeah, darlin’,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it and that brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

“This is so fucked up,” you cry, burying your face in your hands, “Thank you, Simon. You didn’t have to offer to help me and I really owe you a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he closes the cabinet, the bag he brought finally empty before turning to you, “I’ll make sure you know everything you need to know to survive.”

“I doubt I’ll be as good as you,” you joke, a crooked, wobbly smile on your face.

He steps forward and cups your chin, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “No one’s as good as me, sweetheart.”

You chuckle softly at his words.

This is what you needed – someone by your side to keep you sane as society collapsed and everyone that you knew died.

That night, you slept better than you had in days. Simon had given you his bed, offering to take the couch. You had argued, telling him that you couldn’t take his bed like that.

“I’m up most nights anyway, love,” he had assured you, “At least someone around here can get a good night’s sleep in that bed.”

When you woke up, fully rested you might add, Simon was already awake, drinking some tea. You sat down beside him, enjoying a nice quiet morning.

“How do you feel about learnin’ some basics today, love?” he asked when he was cleaning his mug.

“Sure!” you agreed, “I have to warn you though, I really know next to nothing…”

“That’s alright,” he chuckled, waving to you to follow him to the living room, “I’m a good teacher, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you watched as he stood up and went to a closet in the hallway, pulling out an assortment of bags and carriers.

He placed them down beside the couch and took a seat next to you. “I think it’s best if we start with you gettin’ comfortable with the feeling of holding a weapon in your hands,” he explained, pulling out a knife bigger than any you’ve seen, “This is a hunting knife.”

He handed it towards you, his fingers confidently gripping the blade between two fingers. You wrapped your hand around the handle, testing its weight in your hands. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking, holding a weapon in your hands.

“I know it’s scary,” he assured, “But when you’re comfortable holding knives then you can learn to use them properly to protect yourself.”

“What about guns..?” you find yourself asking, still gripping the knife in your hands, turning it over and adjusting your grip just to desensitize yourself to it.

“We’ll tackle guns when you get used to knives,” he replied.

“So you have guns?” you ask, letting him pull the hunting knife from your hands.

“Of course I do,” he reaches into a bag by his feet, pulling out a pistol.

Your eyes go wide as you watch him handle it effortlessly, checking the chamber and moving it around in his hands like it wasn’t a dangerous weapon.

“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you to properly use one so you can use it in case of an emergency,” he explained, placing the pistol on the table carefully.

“I’m going to have to kill other people…” you mutter to yourself.

Simon pulled out another knife, passing it into your hands, “Combat knife,” he supplied simply, “And you’ll have to kill them but…I don’t think they’re people anymore, love.”

“I guess that’s true…” you mutter, holding the knife with a firm grip, “I’ve only seen them on the news before it stopped broadcasting. What about you?”

“Haven’t seen ‘em in person either,” he replies with a shrug, “Some of my…teammates,” the words seem awkward coming from his mouth but he continued, “Were givin’ me some information before they went radio silent.”

“What happened to them?” you couldn’t help but ask.

A brief flash of sadness flashed over his eyes but he quickly sobered up, leaning back against the couch with a sigh, “Not a clue. I guess there’s no way for me to know. I just know it was getting bad. Dangerous.”

“I’m sorry about your teammates,” was all you could find in supply of an answer.

Simon didn’t respond, simply letting his gaze fall back on the knife, “Let me show you some handling techniques for you to practice.”

Realizing that he didn’t want to talk about the world outside anymore, you let him lead you through a crash course on knife handling and knife safety. He took the time to teach you the different kinds of knives in his possession and you nodded along as best you could but if you’re being honest – it was primarily lost on you.

You’re not sure if Simon knew that but he seemed to enjoy teaching you, so you let him ramble on to his heart’s content.

By the end of the day, you were confident enough in at least not accidentally cutting yourself on the sharp blades.

In order to repay him, you made dinner for the both of you – though, really, it was just some heated up canned soup-- and did the dishes for him so he didn’t have to.

By the end of the night, you both found yourselves on the couch, watching a movie he had put on. With there being no way to watch anything else, you were grateful he had a collection of movies to his name – you simply streamed your favorite shows and movies and called it a day.

It ticked late into the night and before you knew it, you were falling asleep on the couch, leaned against his shoulder. You could feel him shift and knew you should open your eyes, but the tugs of sleep at the edges of your subconscious kept you from doing so. Suddenly, you felt the soft beat of his heart against your ear and the heavy weight of his arm laid across you. You briefly registered that you were now wrapped in his arms before the final tug of sleep pulled you under.

When you woke up, you were in bed.

And Simon wasn’t in the apartment.

“Simon..?” you called, looking around everywhere for him – to no avail.

You ventured to the door, carefully pulling it open and stepping out. You looked down the hall towards the stairwell before you heard a grunt of effort from the other end.

“Simon!” you called, making him look up.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, pausing in his task of pushing a large bookcase towards the elevator.

“You weren’t inside…” you mutter, wandering down the hall towards him, “What’re you doing?”

“Barricading this elevator,” he replied, giving the heavy object another push with a grunt of effort.

“Oh, right, you mentioned you wanted to do that,” you mumbled, taking a moment to look over him.

He wasn’t wearing his hoodie for once, instead wearing a tight black t-shirt that was sticking to his skin with sweat. He wore his jeans with a holster and gun on his hip as well.

“Do you need any help?” you asked but he shook his head.

“No, you can’t help with this, love,” he grunted, giving the bookcase one final, heavy push before it was flush against the elevator doors.

It was then that you noticed the straps nailed to the wall. He took them and secured them to the other side of the elevators, making sure the bookcase was fastened firmly.

“Enough people push this and it’ll come down but at least it’s secure enough,” he explained, giving his work a final once over.

“Do you know where the others are?” you find yourself asking as he makes his way to the other end of the hallway

He pauses at that, seemingly thinking of his next words carefully, “I checked door to door. Most of our neighbors got the hell out to go see their families when everything went to shit. A few…were sick and turned in their apartments so I had to…put them down.”

You cringed at his wording, you knew he was trying to phrase it delicately for you but you weren’t sure if you would have preferred him to just say he killed them. ‘Put them down’ made it sound like they were rabid dogs and not people you once knew and smiled at in the halls.

“Found some notes in some of them,” Simon said suddenly, waving you to follow him back to the apartment – to safety, “Guess we can only hope they made it to their families in one piece.”

“I hope so,” you muttered optimistically, slipping past him when he opened the front door for you.

You quickly realize how difficult it is to tell how much time is passing with Simon’s blackout curtains, which he refused to allow you to open for fear of attracting any unwanted attention. With there being no more news broadcasts or anything on TV, you didn’t even know the date anymore and you were too scared to ask for fear of knowing how long you’ve been living like this. Your food rations were slowly dwindling but neither of you talked about it.

You know you’re still waking up in the mornings and sleeping at night – Simon seems to run on an extremely specific schedule. When you asked him about it, he told you it was from the military, which made sense. Either way, you were grateful to him for helping you keep on track.

The water and power were both still on, but Simon kept telling you not to keep your hopes up about it lasting long.

You spent your days learning knife etiquette and practicing stabbing various targets that Simon made for you. You’ve grown much more confident. Of course, you would be no match for your teacher himself but against a bumbling walking corpse? You were sure you would be able to at least buy yourself time to escape if you needed.

Eventually, Simon decided it was time to move onto what you were most scared of – guns.

“I’m going to tell you a few things before I let you hold this,” he said, eyes hardened to show how serious he was as he held a pistol in his hands, “Are you paying attention?”

“Of course,” you breathe, wringing your hands in front of you as you eye the weapon.

“You can’t be scared of your weapons,” he advises, “You need to be confident and sure with every movement you make. It’s not a toy.”

“Hard not to be scared of it…” you confess, “What if I hurt someone with it or…I don’t know.”

“That’s why I’m teaching you all this,” he says, “You’ll get confident and less scared the more you handle them. We’re startin’ you off simple and you can build up to bigger and badder guns. For now…pistols will do.”

“Okay,” you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Tell me what I need to know.”

“That’s the spirit,” he praises, holding the pistol up for you to see how he grips it, “First, never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re going to shoot. Just rest your finger on the side like this, see,” he turns his hand and lets you see the way he keeps his finger hovering beside the trigger rather than on it.

You nod your head, “Got it.”

“Take it,” he says, “Carefully.”

You stare at the offered weapon for just a moment before you reach out and delicately take it from his hands, “Next, never point it at anyone you don’t intend to shoot. Whether it’s loaded or not, keep it pointed away from people and yourself.”

You mimic his grip, grimacing when you realize it's actually much heavier than you thought it would be. It was definitely going to take practice before you built up the ability to hold it for long periods. You follow his instructions and keep it pointed to the ground – albeit awkwardly.

“Here,” he suddenly steps behind you.

You feel your heart catch in your chest when you feel him press against your back. He’s incredibly warm and firm as you lean against him. He carefully takes your hands in his, supporting your hands and holding the gun eye level.

“Just practice lining up your sight and lookin at a target,” he says.

His face is so close to yours, his voice right in your ear, deep and gravelly with that heavy accent. You struggle to process his words, hoping to god he doesn’t hear how fast your heart has started racing.

You close one eye and focus on aiming at a photo on his wall, a small picture frame. His large, gloved hands dwarf your own and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him. He smells like cigarettes and the body wash you may have taken a quick whiff of when you used his shower for the first time. You find yourself wondering when he has time to smoke since you’ve never actually seen him do it.

Your mind is blank beyond anything other than him. How big and warm he is, how safe you feel with him wrapped around you, how good he smells and how much you love his voice as he utters tips and commands into your ear – sickly sweet in that way he always seems to talk to you.

If you focused too much on it, you’d slowly come to the realization that you may have a crush on him. But you quickly dash that thought from your head and focus back on his gun lesson as he teaches you how to eject a magazine with ease.

This is about survival. Neither of you have time to dwell on a silly crush.

A few days later, you’re standing in the eerie hallway with him. He had offered for you to just stay in the apartment and relax while he did the work but you honestly didn’t want to be alone so you opted to sit with him as he worked.

Your back was against the wall, sipping a cup of instant coffee you had made. Simon was silent as he worked on barricading the door to the stairwell. You both agreed that it was best if it was still accessible just in case something happened, but you didn’t want any unnecessary visitors making their way into the safe little haven you’ve both made for yourselves.

“We should think about looting the empty apartments,” you said suddenly, trying to keep your eyes off of his bulging biceps as he yanked on a strap that was attached to the doorknob to keep the door from being opened.

“That’s a good idea,” he grunted, stepping back to admire his handiwork when he finally finished testing its durability, “Let’s do it.”

He offered his hand and you smiled, taking it and letting him pull you to your feet. You brushed off imaginary dust in an effort to hide how flustered just holding his hand for that brief second made you.

You started at the other end of the hallway from your shared apartment. Simon displayed a disturbing aptitude for opening up very locked doors. You chose not to comment on it, instead silently being thankful that he was able to do it at all.

“How about we make a loot pile in the hallway so we can bring it all inside when we’re ready?” you suggest.

“Alright,” he responds, eyes scanning over the cabinets in the kitchen, “Food is our main priority but it wouldn’t hurt to have some medical supplies.”

You agreed and started helping him pick things out, filling your arms full of canned goods and pill bottles which you then deposited in the hallway by your apartment.

The two of you made it through a handful of apartments, securing a nice resource pile for the two of you. You were feeling good, hopeful, as you stared at your future right there in the silent hallway.

It wasn’t until you opened one in particular— it belonged to a shy, college kid, you remember— that it seems everything changes for you. He couldn’t have been but 18, away from home for the first time and living in his first apartment on his own.

Simon is busy looting the kitchen, you can hear him placing cans on the counter, consolidating whatever it is he chooses to bring with him. You check the bedroom, looking through the drawers and pocketing a bottle of aspirin and nausea medication before you move to the bathroom.

The second you push open the door, you’re met with the force of another person shoving into you. You cry out as you hit the ground, the person falling on top of you. You panic and scramble out from under them, their coughing and wheezing forcing you to look at them.

It’s the kid who lives there. He’s deathly pale, dark circles under his eyes which are bloodshot. His lips are crusty and dry, seemingly struggling with finding something to say.

“Pl-” he starts to whisper before you see movement in the corner of your eye.

“Simon, wait!” you cry when you see the knife.

But it’s too late, the hunting knife you had held with your own two hands more times than you could count, is embedded in the kids skull, spraying blood all over you. All you can do is make a pathetic squeak, fear and panic rendering you unable to say anything as you watch his now lifeless body flop onto the ground beside you, his still warm blood soaking into your clothes as it runs out of the gaping hole in his head.

“The fuck were you thinkin’?!” Simon suddenly shouts, storming over to you and yanking you to your feet roughly.

You stumble up, bumping into him as you stare at the dead body on the floor, “He..He was alive…I…”

“He was sick!” Simon snarls, roughly wrapping his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. There was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, making you cower, “You’re lucky he didn’t bite you! Fuckin’ hell, are you stupid?!”

“H-He was talking, he was just sick, Simon!” you argued, tears filling your eyes as you stared up at him, “W-We could have given him medicine, could have–”

“He was a dead man walking,” he shouts, the volume making you flinch, “He was going to turn. Are you a fuckin’ idiot? Thinkin’ we could save him?”

The tears you were holding fell down your cheeks at his cruel words and you glared up at him, “I-I’m not stupid, I just…h-he talked to me!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Simon’s eyes narrow, “He was a threat. A liability. Don’t fuckin’ worry about him, worry about yourself.”

He releases you with a rough shove, taking out some of his anger on you. He continues to glare at you for a long minute before turning his back on you and stalking out of the room, muttering about how stupid it was that you could have killed yourself over some random kid.

Your eyes fall on said kid, no more blood coming from the wound, simply coagulating on the floor around him, “Y-You’re a monster.”

The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, quiet and shaky. But Simon hears them clear, freezing on the other side of the doorway, in the hall.

“I’m a monster..?” he asks, voice suddenly eerily calm. He turns around, his large body taking up an obscene amount of the doorway. You can tell he’s intentionally trying to intimidate you, a punishment that makes your cheeks heat up in anger, “I’ve been breakin’ my back to keep your stupid ass alive and I’m a monster? Because I put down some fucker that was gonna turn rabid in a day?” he glares at you, squinting through the mask and drawing his dark eyebrows together, “You think it’s easy for me? I’m doin’ everything I can to keep you safe!” he shouts so loud that your ears ring and you flinch from the sound alone, “But if you can’t appreciate that then maybe you should be on your fuckin’ own and see how long it takes before you’re ripped apart by those feral bastards!”

He storms off at that, loudly slamming the front door, indicating his final exit from the apartment. You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks only for more to replace them and you sniffle, casting a sorrowful glance at the dead kid before creeping out of the apartment yourself.

Simon is nowhere in the hall but the supplies you both gathered are still there.

You carefully open the door to Simon’s apartment and peek inside, finding it completely silent and still. You’re not sure where he went but you decide to busy yourself with loading all your looted items into the kitchen and sorting them all for when he returns.

You’re not sure how long you take to finish but Simon still isn’t back and you become worried.

He had said you should be on your own but surely he didn’t actually just leave the building, did he?

You wander over to his supplies and find a handful of his weapons gone. Your heart shoots into your throat and more tears prick at your eyes before you’re dashing out of the apartment once again.

The door to the stairwell is no longer held shut, indicating that Simon had, in fact, gone that way. You curse yourself. If you had checked sooner then he would have at least been somewhere close but if he really left, he would be long out of the building by now.

You creep towards the door and slowly push it open. You hadn’t even left the floor since before this whole thing started. It was eerily quiet, but if you listened close you could hear some muffled shuffling from somewhere.

You crept out, quickly realizing how dark it was. You pulled out your keychain which held a tiny flashlight that you used to navigate when it was dark in the apartment.

You crept down the stairs, holding your breath with every step until you finally reached the floor below you. You can hear muffled sounds from beyond the door and slowly push it open, flashing the light down the hallway.

It's too small and weak to penetrate the stifling darkness. The power was not on on this floor for some reason and that immediately set you on edge. You could still hear some shuffling and strange, raspy noises from within the darkness.

“Simon..?” you call into the impenetrable, oppressive darkness. The noises stop for a moment and you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Simon?” you call again, louder.

The noises return, shuffling, heavy footsteps advance on you. You strain your eyes to see past the weak illumination that your flashlight provides. You’re breathing heavily, you realize, anxiety making your lungs feel constricted as the footsteps get closer and closer.

All of the sudden, a disgusting, rotted face appears in your sights, arms outstretched towards you. You scream out in unbridled terror as it grabs you, its bony, sickening fingers latching onto your shoulders. You attempt to push it away and run but you trip over your own two feet in your panic. Your flashlight flies out of sight, its dim illumination casting down the hallway, leaving you to push at the undead corpse as it collapses on top of you. Its weight is more than you thought it would be, leaving your arms trembling as you struggle to keep it from falling on top of you. It fights your resistance and chomps its disgusting teeth at your face, attempting to get a bite out of your flesh.

It reeks, you realize, like the smell of a dead animal you pass by on the street. It makes your stomach turn and you fear you’re going to throw up from the smell alone. The rotting skin of its chest slips and pulls away from the bone and muscle and you gag, tears coming to your eyes as you realize the very real and terrifying danger you’re in.

You have no way to get out of this.

As you look down the hall, where the light barely pierced the inky depths, you can see more figures emerging from further down the hall, shuffling and rasping in interest at your fight with the one on top of you.

Tears fall down your temples and a sob bursts from your chest as you slowly come to terms that this is how you’re going to die. You can’t hold the sheer weight of the undead above you for much longer.

“S-Simon…” you call out, weak and strained. You know even if he’s nearby he won’t hear you. You have to try harder, get your voice out, shout for him. You swallow around your tears and panic, taking a full breath before shouting, “Simon! Please! Simon, help me!”

You don’t even register the door opening behind you. But you do notice when the weight of the corpse is gone, a knife stabbing into its skull before a large hand grabs you by the back of the shirt and drags you back into the stairwell. The undead follow after you, slamming themselves against the door as soon as it slams closed.

You’re trembling and unable to blink or breathe as the shock of what just happened washes over you.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Simon all but screams, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, dragging you onto unsteady feet that can’t hold you up before slamming you against the wall. You can still hear those zombies slamming against the door. Your ears are ringing and you barely register Simon shouting at you.

He shakes you and it finally draws your attention to him. His eyes are wide, irises darting back and forth over your face. He doesn’t look nearly as angry as you would expect. Instead he looks…concerned. Scared.

“Simon…” you whisper, the tears not stopping as they fall down your cheeks. He’s the only thing holding you up right now, hands balled in the material of your shirt, keeping you pinned to the wall, “I-I was…I was looking for you…”

He’s panting, shoulders rising and falling as he struggles to compose himself, “Lookin’ for me?”

“Y-You said you were leaving and I…” you whimper, “I-I didn’t want you to go so…I went to find you…I didn’t think that…”

You see his jaw tense through his mask before he slowly lets go of your shirt. Your knees tremble under your own weight and your hands find purchase against his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he mutters, stepping away from you with a heavy sigh, “Just don’t…do that again, got it?”

You nod your head, sniffling as you feel your tears slowly come to a stop, “Th-Thank you, Simon…for saving me…”

“Yeah,” he grunts, turning his back to you, storming back up the stairs to your floor.

You unsteadily follow behind him, still a shaky and anxious mess. When you get into the apartment, Simon is in the kitchen, barely sparing you a glance.

“Go take a shower,” he orders you.

You linger in the doorway for a moment, hoping that he’ll look at you even for a second. But he doesn’t and you hang your head, skulking off to take your shower with a heavy heart.

The night rolls around and Simon hasn’t said a word, putting you more on edge with each passing minute. He sits, manspreading on the couch with a glass of Kentucky bourbon in a glass, sipping on it and watching some old movie that he put on play. Usually, he asks you if you’d like to watch with him, but this time he didn’t and that just makes your heart ache even more.

“Simon…” you venture to ask, casting a glance at him. His hard gaze doesn’t move from the TV, “I-I want to apologize–”

“For what?” he asks, the first words he’s spoken to you in hours. They’re cold and make you wince.

“F-For what I said…” you mutter, tucking your legs underneath you as you turn to look at him, “I…I was mean. I know you’re doing all you can for me and it wasn’t fair of me to get angry at you…I was just…startled, I guess.”

“You were naive,” he snaps, finally looking at you with a harsh glare, “You had no fuckin’ idea what those monsters were and you almost got yourself killed because of it.”

“Y-You’re right…” you whisper, feeling the tears pricking your eyes for the millionth time that day, “I’m sorry, Simon.”

He doesn’t respond, simply throwing back his glass of bourbon, downing it all before he stands up, “Sleep on the couch.”

The last thing you hear from him is his bedroom door slamming shut. You lay down that night, quietly crying into the pillow until you finally fell back asleep.

“Wake up!” a barking voice is what draws you out of your slumber.

Still shaken up from yesterday’s previous events, you sit straight up, wild, fearful eyes looking around before your gaze falls upon Simon. He stands in front of the couch, dressed in full tactical gear. Even his balaclava is different, with a hard plate in the shape of a skull covering the front. He looks intimidating.

“Wh-What’re you doing?” you ask, turning yourself so your feet are on the floor.

“We’re trainin’, get up,” he commands and you have no choice but to follow.

You find yourself following him out of the apartment and into the dimly lit hallway. It’s eerily quiet as always and you feel more intimidated than ever standing before him in nothing but some flimsy pajamas while he wears full gear. Even his gaze is different through that skull mask, hard and cold, looking down at you like you’re insignificant.

It’s so different from before. He was so kind and patient with you before and you can tell that now he’s going to really train you.

“What’re we doing today..?” you timidly ask, wringing your hands in front of yourself.

“Escaping,” he responds.

“Escaping?” you parrot back dumbly.

His glare narrows down at you, “You’re going to try to get away from me and make it towards that exit.”

He points to the other end of the hallway, to the stairwell. You glance up at him, where he stands between you and your exit.

“Okay…” you lick your lips nervously, “Do you want me to just run past you?”

“For now,” he drawls. He sounds almost bored, hands wrapped around the straps of his tactical vest.

You take a deep breath and attempt to bolt past him but his reflexes are frighteningly fast. His arm shoots out before you even realize it, catching you around your middle and halting you immediately.

The air is punched out of your lungs from the force of his arms and you stumble back with a groan.

“You’re goin’ to have to do better than that,” he says, looking down his nose at you like you had offended him with your poor attempt.

You brace yourself again and attempt to run past him. This time, you attempt to fake him out and run in the other direction but it ends the same with his arm grappling around your middle and you still not any closer to the exit.

“Again!” he barks and you can’t help but wonder if this was how he was when he was training recruits in the military.

You try again and again to run past him, duck under his arm, avoid his reach – everything to no avail. After several attempts, you’re left panting and frustrated. Simon is still as cool as a cucumber, staring at you in pure boredom as he awaits your next move.

You run again, making rough contact with his arm once again. But this time you start fighting against his hold. You push with all your might, shoving at his arm and his side in an attempt to slip past him.

“There you go,” he says, though it sounds more condescending than proud, “Fight me.”

You slam your fist down over his arm, successfully knocking it out of the way and giving you a chance to bolt past him. You have a clear view of the stairwell door and you can almost taste the success.

But you’re stopped suddenly when a rough hand grabs the back of your shirt. You cry out in shock when he yanks you back towards him, carelessly tossing you to the floor. You hit the rough carpet harshly, the coarse material skinning your hands and knees and you cry out at the pain.

“Simon!” you chastise him, glaring up at him when he comes to stand in front of you, “That fucking hurt!”

“Oh, it hurt?” he sneers, squatting beside you, behemoth form still dwarfing your own as he gets down on your level, “It’s not supposed to feel good. This is training. You’re supposed to try and survive, not whine and cry because you fell on the floor.”

You sit on your burning knees and glare at him. He glares back at you, neither of you backing down.

“Get up,” he commands, standing up, “Go again.”

By the time he allowed the training to be called off, your body was sore and bruised from the amount of times you’d been thrown to the floor. Your knees burn and ache from where the skin had been rubbed off and you fight back tears as you watch the dried blood crust on your skin.

Simon is no more rough for wear than he was before – all your hitting, kicking, pushing, and biting hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. He wasn’t even winded.

Worse more, you hadn’t made it anywhere near the door.

You weren’t sure how Simon felt about it. If he was mad or disappointed, he didn’t say. As soon as you got into the apartment, he went about making dinner after ordering you to wash up.

When you got out of the shower, he tossed a first aid kit to you and silently sat down in the kitchen to eat.

Usually, you would sit with him but you found yourself deciding to eat on the couch by yourself. A sense of loneliness settled upon you that you hadn’t felt since before you had moved into this apartment with him and you find yourself hiding your tears in your food.

Once again, you’re sleeping on the couch. You wouldn’t have minded it if it didn’t feel so much like a punishment. You felt like a dog banished to sleep in the dog house and you can’t help but curl in on yourself at the cold, empty feeling that it causes.

The next morning follows much the same with Simon startling you awake with a barked order. Your body aches and your wounds sting with every movement you make as you drag yourself behind him to the hallway.

“Do we have to do this again today, Simon?” you ask hopelessly, “I’m really tired…”

“Do you think those undead freaks are going to care if you’re tired?” he snaps at you, arms crossed, making him appear even bigger than he already was, “You’re goin’ to learn how to escape from holds.”

“Simon…” you start to complain but a sharp look from him has the words dying on your tongue and you hand your head in defeat.

He’s no more gentle than he was yesterday with you, rough grips and manhandling you around to fit his needs. He barks in your ear, ordering what you need to do and when to break various holds that he has on your body.

He feels so much stronger and more powerful than those zombies had. At least they were mindless and slow. Simon was fast and smart.

“Put your hand under mine to break the hold!” he shouts, clearly frustrated the more you fuck up breaking his holds.

“Not like that! Are you daft?” he grits through clenched teeth, “You’re goin’ to fuckin wind up dead if you keep this up!”

You feel your heart rate speed up and you find yourself almost panicking under his completely oppressive energy. His shouting only sets you more on edge and the tears begin to prick at your eyes once again.

“None of those fuckin’ tears,” he snarls, tightening his hold on you when you squirm and attempt to rid his body weight off of yours, “Do what I told you! You can break the hold if you just fuckin’ focus!”

“Simon, I-I don’t want to do this anymore!” you cry, the tears tumbling down your cheeks as you cry out the words. Your cheeks feel hot and you can barely catch your breath as you weakly punch at his chest.

“There’s no tappin’ out,” he snaps, tightening his grip on you even more. Your body aches where he holds and you know you’re going to be feeling those bruises for days to come.

“Simon!” you practically screech, freeing one hand and harshly slamming your fist down over the hard faceplate.

It seems to startle him enough into loosening his hold and you manage to kick back away from him in your panic, foot hitting him square in the chest in an effort to propel yourself away – putting as much distance as fast as you can between the two of you.

“Simon…” you whimper, voice wobbling, “I am not one of your soldiers. You need to stop trying to train me like I am!”

You watch him adjust his jaw through his mask before he pops his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you and every hair on your body stands up in pure fear.

He’s on top of you before you even have the chance to say another word. You cry out when the force of his body forces you back and your head cracks harshly against the floor. Your vision blacks out from the force and you groan in pain but he doesn’t stop, a rough forearm pinning against your throat, cutting off your air.

“That was good,” he says, voice cold and devoid of any emotion, “You managed to escape, now do it again!”

Your hands push weakly against him, but you’re worn out and your head is starting to hurt like hell. You open your mouth to say something but his hold on your throat ceases any words from escaping.

You reach up to his face and his cold gaze narrows at you, “You already tried that. It won’t work again.”

But instead of hitting him, your fingers wrap around the face plate and you attempt to push it off – hoping that it’ll obscure his vision enough but he shakes you off with ease.

He catches your gaze and what he sees gives him pause. Wide, teary eyes, red rimmed and filled to the brim with fear. Tears wet your cheeks and he finally notices the way your entire body is tense and trembling beneath him.

“P-Please,” you finally find your voice when his weight eases a bit off of your throat, “I-I don’t want to do this anymore, Simon, please.”

That has his own eyes widening and you take his slackened hold as an opportunity to run away. He watches you scramble up from your spot on the floor and stumble back to the apartment, disappearing within with a slam that makes him flinch. He looks down at his own hands and finds that he can’t conjure up any thoughts that aren’t about you.

You hear him enter the apartment, his heavy footfalls pacing around the living room. You’re hiding in the bathroom, leaning against the door with your knees against your chest to muffle your cries.

He enters the bedroom and pauses, no doubt looking for you before he approaches the bathroom and you feel a brief ping of fear that he’s going to open the door but instead he softly knocks.

“Will you come out so we can talk?” he asks, voice holding none of the cold, harshness that it had for the last few days.

“G-Go away, Simon,” you sniffle.

You can hear him sigh before he follows your request and steps away from the door. You can hear him linger in the bedroom for several more minutes, kicking his boots off before he’s quietly closing the bedroom door and leaving.

The silence and loneliness sinks in once more and you find yourself sobbing into your knees all over again. Your head kills and you feel almost nauseous through your cries from the headache but you can’t stop yourself.

You have no idea how long you cry for but before you know it, the bedroom door opens once again and you can hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the bathroom door once again.

“I made something for you to eat,” he says through the door, “Figured you might be hungry.” At the idea of food, your stomach growls, “It’ll be waiting for you at the table when you want it.”

You listen to him walk away and you know this is his way of luring you out of the bathroom. Part of you desperately wants to spite him for being so mean to you and refuse his food but the growling in your stomach is too much to bear and you can’t help but clamber to your feet and quietly pull the door open.

When you reach the living room, Simon is facing the TV, giving no indication that he realizes you’ve come out of your hiding place. You sneak into the kitchen to see a bowl of soup sitting nicely at an empty spot. You take a seat and quickly devour the entire bowl, barely taking a break to breathe before it’s completely empty.

You place it in the sink and carefully sneak back out of the kitchen, intending to slide right past him but in your haste you fail to notice that he’s no longer sitting on the couch. Instead, you come face to face with him sitting at the foot of his bed, clearly waiting for you.

You freeze when you see him and all too soon that headache comes racing back to the forefront of your mind.

Simon’s no longer wearing the skull plate and instead wears his usual black balaclava with the skull print on it. He wears a t-shirt and sweatpants, obviously having let himself get comfortable while you hid in the bathroom earlier.

He looks up at you the second you step into the room and the two of you halt in a stalemate, simply staring at one another while you wait for the other to make the first move.

You’re the first to break eye contact when a heavy throb goes through your head, making you close your eyes and bring your hand to your head until it passes. You hear the bed creak when Simon stands up before his hands are cupping your cheeks.

“You hit your head, didn’t you?” he asks, soft and gentle.

You can’t stop yourself from glaring and snapping, “No thanks to you.”

His gaze softens as his hand finds its way to the back of your head, ever so softly prodding at the sizable bump that’s there, “I’m sorry, love.”

“If you’re sorry then why did you do it?” you find those damned tears returning all over again as you continue to glare up at him, “I told you I didn’t like it and I wanted to stop.”

“I know…” he whispers, hands once again cupping your cheeks, thumbing your tears away.

“What was your problem, Simon?” you tearfully ask, sniffling pathetically, “You hurt me. You were scary – scarier than those stupid zombies downstairs. Why did you do that?”

“I got…I was…” he struggled to find the right words before he stepped away from you with a troubled expression, “I was angry— scared. I just—I don’t know.”

“You were scared?” you scoff, “I’m the one who got attacked.”

“You think that wasn’t scary for me?” he asks in disbelief, “You almost got eaten alive on my watch.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you sniffle, angrily storming over to the bed, letting yourself flop down on the comfortable mattress for the first time in days.

“I know,” he whispers, “Just let me explain, okay?”

You lay there silently, listening to his weight shift where he stands. You take notice of how his scent lingers much more on the blankets now that he’s slept on it. It smells good, you note, musky and delicate. He doesn’t wear anything that smells particularly overpowering.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “Ever since this shit happened, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I lost contact with my team, my friends. I’m not able to get anymore information on what's goin’ on outside. I’m worried about you, I’m trying my hardest to make sure you can go out there and survive on your own if you need to. I feel like I’m going crazy and I’m scared because I’ve never felt this out of control before.”

You sit up and turn to face him, “How long have you been feeling like this, Simon..?”

“A while,” he mutters, turning his back on you when your gaze starts to feel like too much, “And then you called me a monster and I just…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to explain his feelings properly.

“I’m sorry for that, Simon,” you mutter sincerely, reaching out to grab his arm, urging him to turn around, “I never should have said that. And I didn’t mean it, really.”

“Well, you were right, weren’t you?” he scoffs, “I am a monster. Fuck, look at what I did to you – how I treated you. I was punishing you and I never should have.”

“We both made mistakes,” you compromise with a wobbly smile, “We’re dealing with a lot, right? The fucking world is ending and we’ve been trapped in this godforsaken building for who knows how long. It’ll get easier.”

He stares at you for a long moment, lashes fluttering as his gaze softens. You can’t find it in yourself to break eye contact. After a long moment, he seems to decide on something before reaching up and yanking the mask covering his face off.

You feel your breath halt in your chest as your eyes widen, taking in every inch of his newly revealed face. His soft, brown eyes are a juxtaposition to the rest of his ruggedly handsome face. You stand up, never letting your eyes stray from him, a feeling of pure awe coming over you.

“You’re so handsome, Si,” you whisper, reaching forward to brush your fingers over a scar that cuts through his eyebrow to his eyelid, “It’s nice to finally see you.”

“I wanted you to see the real me,” he whispers, “Not the asshole soldier I was.”

“I’m glad you’ve trusted me with this,” you let your fingers wander along his skin, feeling the stubble on his jaw that he hadn’t yet shaved.

“I need to tell you,” he sounds breathy, reaching up and catching your hand in his, pressing your palm flat against his cheek, “I was so scared when I heard you callin’ for me. I thought I was goin’ to be too late and I’d watch you die. I was terrified that I would lose you.”

“Simon…” you whisper in awe, watching how his soft, brown eyes display every tumultuous emotion that he experiences, “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to worry you again.”

“I want you by my side for as long as you’re able,” he whispers, throat moving as he swallows.

“I won’t go anywhere,” you agree, stepping closer to him, “I promise.”

He leans in at the same time as you, meeting you for a sweet, tender kiss. It lasts only a second before you’re both pulling back to look in each other's eyes. Then, you’re both surging forward for a hungry, heated kiss.

His hands grip your waist, squeezing there as he deepens the kiss. You whimper under his touch, standing on your tip-toes to match the intensity of his kiss.

He moves you backwards, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, causing you to topple down. Simon follows, catching himself on his hands on either side of your head. He only breaks the kiss for a moment to move you further up the bed, easily manhandling you so your head is in the pillows before he’s kissing you all over again.

His hands are rough as they travel over your body, slipping your shirt up just enough to let him touch your bare sides. You quickly realize you’re still wearing your sleep clothes and that you don’t have a bra on.

Clearly, Simon was aware because his hand quickly cups your bare breast with a rough, callused hand. His thumb finds your nipple, flicking over the bud as you whine into his mouth.

He pulls back suddenly, cheeks flushed before he’s fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Arms up, sweetheart,” he coos, sickly sweet.

You follow his orders and eagerly lift your arms up for him to tug the fabric of your shirt over your head. Once your breasts are bared to him, he’s leaning down to wrap his lips around one perked nipple while his fingers busy themselves with the other.

You cry out at the feeling of his teeth nipping at the sensitive bud, hands tangling in his soft, curly hair. He groans against your breast at the feeling of your pulling at his hair before he pulls back just a bit, breathlessly whispering, “Such perfect tits.”

“Simon…” you whimper, letting yourself relax into the bed as he switches to mouth at your other nipple, leaving the other to harden in the cool air before his hand travels down your stomach to your shorts, easily slipping underneath the fabric.

“Simon!” you call out again when you feel the heat of his hand cup your folds through your panties.

“Shh, just let me do the work, love,” he mumbled, muffled by the fact he refuses to part from suckling on your nipple.

His tongue drags over your breast, nipping and sucking marks into your skin. As he works the muscle, his hand in your panties remains stationary, just letting you feel the heat of it against your core. The teasing presence only makes you pulse and drool into your panties. You’re positive the fabric must be sticking to you by now from how wet you’ve become from playing with your breasts.

“Your tits are so sensitive,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Does it feel good, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, arching your back to offer up your chest to him all over again.

He grins, a crooked little smile that makes your heart flutter. It was so nice to finally see him smile.

But instead of mouthing at your breasts again, he leans back on his heels and pulls his hand from your panties. You whine at the loss but it’s cut short when he hooks his fingers into them and tugs them down your legs. You lift your hips to assist him but find yourself wincing when an ache goes through your body.

He notices and gently runs the palm of his hands up your thighs, urging you to relax.

“You sore, love?” he asks, voice filled with what you can only call guilt.

“A little…” you admit, biting your lip, “My thighs are killing me, actually.”

He shakes his head at himself and leans down, pressing a kiss next to the scrape on one of your knees as his hands slowly begin to knead the sore muscles in your thighs. You sigh and let your eyes flutter at the feeling.

With your eyes closed, you don’t realize he leans down until you feel a hot, wet tongue slide from your pubic bone to your sternum. Your cunt clenches pathetically at the feeling. When you open your eyes, Simon’s pretty, brown eyes are half-lidded and his tongue hangs out of his mouth. You can’t resist cupping the back of his head and pulling him for a kiss, whimpering and moaning against his mouth.

“Fingers or tongue?” he asks, muffled and messy against your lips.

“What?” your hazy mind can’t quite comprehend what he’s asking of you.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?” he reiterates, “I want to make you cum.”

You whimper at that, “B-Both!”

He scoffs, full brows furrowing, “Greedy.”

You find yourself blushing at that but he doesn’t deny your request. He sinks down your body, peppering kisses down your body on the way until he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed.

He grabs your hips and effortlessly yanks you down so your legs hang off the edge of the bed.

He spreads your thighs apart and you find yourself holding your breath, watching through your lashes as he trails kisses up your thigh, getting closer to where you want him the most. You’re trembling under his attention and it makes you clench pathetically around absolutely nothing. You’re sure he can see the way your cunt drools and leaks with every small kiss he peppers against your skin.

Just when he gets close, he pulls back and kisses back down towards your knee. The teasing has you wound taut, feeling as if you’re almost on the edge without him ever properly touching you.

It feels like hours that he does it, kissing up and down your thighs. Occasionally, he nips at the skin there, swirling his tongue over the burning marks he leaves behind to soothe the sting. Finally, he moves his hand and you think he’s going to finally give you something but all he does is spread your folds apart with two fingers, exposing your hole and clit to the cool bedroom air. The action makes you whine but he pays you no mind.

He carries on kissing your thighs and nipping at your skin. No matter how much you rut your hips, hoping to entice him into touching you and giving you what you really need, he ignores it. He ignores your whines and the cries of his name, ignores the way your cunt clenches and drools around nothing, clit twitching from how much teasing you’re enduring.

The little bud aches, throbbing as it begs for anything – any little touch that he has to offer. He could blow air upon the nub right now and you’re sure you would explode in pure pleasure.

When you sob his name, broken and needier than you’ve ever heard yourself, he finally looks up. His eyelids are heavy, concealing half of his iris and it makes him look positively fucked out.

“Look at me,” he commands, licking his lips slowly, “Right in the eyes, let me see you properly.”

You force yourself to meet his penetrating gaze, almost struggling to compose yourself. You find yourself trapped in the eye contact, almost paralyzed under his intoxicating gaze. He holds you there for what feels like minutes but in reality is probably just a few seconds.

His fingers finally hone in on your clit, pressing against the twitching, hardened bud. You cum immediately, still locked in that intoxicating eye contact. You cry out, hands slapping against the bed as he draws the orgasm out of you with slow circles on the little bud, sticky clicking sounds filling the room and mixing with your wild cries of pleasure. It seems like the high never stops, more and more cum gushing from your cunt and dripping down to stain the comforter beneath you.

Simon watches you with keen attention, taking in every expression you make as he makes you cum against his fingers, the bud throbbing wildly until the orgasm finally dissipates.

When you finally sag against the bed, your thighs fall completely open as the post-orgasm exhaustion quickly hits. You’re left trembling and twitching through the aftershocks, pretty pussy still drooling with every clench of your walls.

Simon takes the opportunity of you coming down to strip himself. He tugs his shirt off over his head and lets his sweatpants drop the floor, carelessly kicking them away. His gaze never leaves you, never leaves that twitching little cunt between your legs.

There’s a slick film of your cum coating your folds and his mouth fucking waters.

Your eyes fly open, not even realizing that you had closed them, when he suddenly cups the back of your thighs and pins you wide open for him.

“Simon…” you pathetically coo, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair when he comes within reach.

“So sweet for me,” he coos, kissing your thigh once again and you’re scared that he’s going to tease you all over again, “A good orgasm got you nice and sweet, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mutter, dazedly looking at him as you feel his breath on your sensitive cunt.

That alone makes you clench around nothing. You nearly whimper out loud when you see his tongue fall from his mouth, glistening with spit before he licks a slow, wide stripe between your folds.

When he comes back up, he holds his tongue out and lets you see the creamy mess of your cum left behind. He makes a show of swallowing every drop in his mouth, making your cheeks flush in pure embarrassment at such a lewd display.

You had no idea Simon would be so fucking filthy in bed but the way his eyes roll back at your taste tells you all that you need to know.

He loudly slurps your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sloppy bud as he whines and groans into your cunt. You tug harshly at his hair at the overwhelming feeling of having your clit doted on so expertly.

His hands keep you pinned open, allowing him to slip his tongue inside you, occasionally taking a moment to visibly swallow every drop of your slick so you can see the way he absolutely savors your taste.

He swirls that offending tongue around your clit again, slurping it back into his mouth before two fingers are prodding at your entrance. You clench against him, the excitement of finally being filled with something making you whimper. Just the sound of you so eager makes him almost want to cum completely untouched.

Your cum generously coats his face and he absolutely loves it. He pulls away suddenly, dark eyes locking onto your face as he pants from how lost he was in eating you out. He slowly presses two fingers inside you, letting them slide in, hugged by the plushness of your walls.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, love,” he coos, moaning sympathetically when you cry out from the feeling of being stretched on his fingers, “And so warm too, fuck.”

He decides, in that moment, that he doesn’t care if the world is ending outside, he feels nothing but bliss with you. He never wants this to end, he wants to get completely lost in the pure intoxication of you.

He leans down, flattening his tongue against your clit once again. The feeling is heightened now that he’s got his thick fingers stuffed inside you. You clench around him at the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive bud once more.

He suddenly crooks his fingers and your legs helplessly kick in the air at the overwhelming feeling of him pressing and prodding against that gooey little spot inside you. Your hips rabbit up and you practically wail at the overwhelming sensations he’s attacking you with. You squeal his name so sweetly before he finally backs off a bit, letting you sink back into the soft cushions of the bed.

He’s completely drunk off of you, off the creamy cum you gush out for him to lick up, off the lovely sounds you let out from how good he makes you feel. His cock is so painfully hard and he wants so badly to wrap his hand around himself but he knows he’ll blow his load the second he does, so he refrains.

To distract himself from the ache in his cock, he doubles his focus on you and making you feel good. His fingers crook upwards again, prodding your g-spot again with renewed vigor. You cry out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sucks your clit into his mouth, the suction making your thighs tremble.

“I-I wanna cum!” you cry out, fingers still tugging harshly at his hair.

He groans against you but doesn’t dare to part from you, too focused on bringing you to your high to actually goad you into it. His fingers move inside you, fucking you nice and deep, making sure he’s working that sweet little spot inside you as he continues to suck on your clit.

It doesn’t take long before your entire body stiffens and you toss your head back. The choked out cry is music to his ears and his own eyes roll back when he feels the way your walls tighten around him, soaking his fingers generously. Your clit throbs in his mouth before he releases his suction on it, instead choosing to lick the pulsing little bud with the flat of his tongue to gently ease you through the high.

You’re pushing his head away long before he’s ready to part but he willingly backs off nonetheless. His chin is wet with your cum, even dripping down his neck and the sight makes you flush. There’s a loud, squishy noise when he slowly pulls his fingers from the hot clutch of your cunt.

“Scoot back for me, darlin’,” he commands you, slurring a little before he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of the mess you left behind.

You do as he says, shakily pushing yourself back so you can lay your head in the pillows. With Simon standing at the foot of the bed, you finally get the chance to take a look at him.

He’s obviously incredibly well built, broad and firm in all the right places. Most notably, he has numerous scars, some that looked like bullet wounds and others that were long and thin.

“Are all those from the military?” you find yourself asking as he carefully crawls onto the bed, jostling you as the mattress moves under his weight.

“Yeah,” he breathes, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You let him handle your body as he pleases, spreading your legs so he can comfortably situate himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, rests against your folds and you find your eyes going wide at the sight of it.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he chuckles, like he can hear what you’re thinking.

“That’s not going to fit,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze off the twitching, fat length of him.

“‘Course it will, love,” he breathes, pecking your lips again, letting his lips trail down over your jaw, “I worked you open real good, all you gotta do is relax and let me in.”

With a minute adjustment of his hips, the tip prods your entrance. He grips the base of his length, carefully pushing forward, mouth dropping open as he feels your hot, wet walls spread around the head of him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts, “Jus’ let me do the work.”

Your hands fly down to grip his forearms, nails biting harder into the skin there the deeper he sinks into you. The middle of his cock is the fattest, giving you an almost painful stretch that makes your face pinch up in a way that Simon doesn’t like.

He brings one hand to his mouth, licking his thumb before carefully pressing the digit against that sensitive bud. You whimper at the feeling, cunt clutching tight around him, easing more of his length inside. He circles your clit a few more times, watching your face for any clear signs of discomfort. Before long, his hips meet yours, filling you absolutely full to the brim in a way no one ever had before.

He plants both hands on either side of your head, abandoning your clit in favor of simply rutting his hips against yours. His large body hovers over you, shielding you from anything outside of him and you find yourself completely lost in everything that is him – how full he makes you feel, how nice he smells, how safe you feel trapped beneath him like you are.

Your hands wind around his neck, pulling him down so his chest presses against yours. Your breasts squish against his chest and he finds his eyes flickering down just to look at them. The sight makes you smile despite yourself – it’s cute, you think.

Tangling your fingers in his soft curls once again, you bring him down for a kiss. He’s still slowly, carefully rutting his hips against yours, his lower abdomen sliding against your clit as his cock stirs inside you, stretching you and hitting every sweet little spot inside you.

You whimper into his mouth, gasping at the way he makes you feel so full and good while he barely does anything. Your knees bracket against his ribs, squeezing him so tightly you wonder if it hurts but he just continues to kiss you and circle his hips.

“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he whispers, barely parting from your lips to request it, “Just like this, cover my cock. Be good for me.”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to disobey even if you wanted to. With the way he stirs you up and drags against every tender spot inside you all while grinding against your clit the way he is, you don’t stand a chance. Your third orgasm creeps up on you and your back arches just as it washes over you.

Simon groans at the feeling of you cumming around him for the first time – the tight, wet clutch of your cunt feeling better than he ever could have dreamed. As he watches you writhe in his bed, moaning and whimpering his name, he’s overcome with a plethora of feelings that just melt his heart.

He can’t resist pulling you in for another kiss, cupping your jaw as he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock remains buried in your cunt. You’re still working on coming down from the orgasm he just gave you but he’s greedy – he wants to feel it again. He wants to fuck the orgasm out of you, make you ride it out and gush all over him.

He needs to show you how good he can be for you, hoping that this alone can get across just how much you mean to him. He’s never been the best with words, so he can only hope that this is enough for now.

Your hands press against his chest, aimlessly pushing at him from the overwhelming way he fucks you. You’re so sensitive, pushed into cumming more times than anyone had ever made you before. But he doesn’t show any signs of slowing or stopping. He’s a machine, built for stamina and he’s on a fucking mission now – to make you feel as good as he possibly can.

You’re attempting to push him away, to give your poor, overstimulated body a chance to come down. But he’s having none of it.

“Hands off, love,” he commands breathlessly. But you just stare up at him with dazed, teary eyes, panting and sweaty. He clicks his tongue, “You ignorin’ me, sweetheart?”

He grapples your wrists in his one hand, pulling yours away from his chest and pinning them above your head. He uses this new hold as leverage to really fuck you, pulling back and sinking back in as deep as he possibly can. His tip kisses your cervix, making your thighs tense up at the twinge of pain that comes with having him so deep.

But the pain mixes so addictively with the pleasure that you find yourself getting completely lost in the slow, deep rhythm that he sets. Every time he sinks balls deep, his hips slap against yours and he rubs up deliciously against your clit. The pleasure on your bud doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back again, never allowing you to fully build up to another delicious high.

Simon is lost in the way you whimper and whine. He can swear that he’s never heard anything as incredible as you being denied the pleasure he had been so generous with so far. He likes the desperate look in your eyes; it makes him feel amazing to know that you need him to make you feel good. He’s in charge of your pleasure in that moment and he finds himself relishing in that feeling of control over you.

You look so sweet beneath him, pinned and helpless with teary eyes looking up at him. Your pupils are blown wide from the pleasure his cock brings you as he continues to fuck you nice and deep.

Usually, Simon is a fast and rough kind of guy, but he finds himself thinking that he could definitely get used to a pace like this more often. As long as it’s you that’s underneath him.

It doesn’t take you very long to break, those pretty tears falling down your cheeks as you breathlessly plead with him, “Please, Simon,” your voice cracks so cutely, “I want more!”

He chuckles under his breath and leans down, pressing a tender kiss against your temple before whispering, “What’s stoppin’ you from takin’ more?”

That seems to set you off. You’re bracing your feet on the bed, rutting your hips, rocking yourself against his cock. A moan rips from his chest at the sight of you using his cock like that. His heavy balls press against you and the feeling makes his cock throb, making him realize how badly he needs to cum. But he doesn’t want to give up this little show you’re putting on for him so soon.

You’re so, so wet that he can feel how your messy little cunt squishes around him. You shamelessly soak every inch of him the more you work your own pussy on his fat cock. You tug your hands free from his grip and he’s left clenching the pillows in his fist when he watches your fingers descend.

He thinks you’re going to go for your clit, to push yourself over the edge like you so deserved for being so good for him. But instead, you reach for your own tits. The breath punches out of his lungs as the sight of you meanly pinching and tweaking your nipples as you continue to rock yourself against him.

Simon feels his balls tighten at the sight and he almost thinks he’s going to cum but he suddenly pulls his cock out. You wail in complete misery at the loss, tearfully watching him wrap his hand around the base of his cock, pinching off the impending orgasm.

You flop back down onto the bed, sniffling pathetically as you glare at him for ruining the orgasm you were so beautifully working yourself up to. He smiles crookedly at you, cupping the backs of your knees, crudely pinning them to your chest so your pretty, wet cunt is open and vulnerable to the way he suddenly stuffs himself back inside.

With you completely pinned beneath him in a press, you can’t do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure as he finally fucks you fast and hard. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, your arousal dripping off of them.

His eyes are locked on the way you’re stretched so wide around the girth of him. You’re creaming around him, a milky ring left in your wake every time he pulls out. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe or collect yours, simply fucking you with everything he has. It’s loud, wet, and fucking messy.

“F-Fuck,” he chokes on the word, voice breaking as it comes out. He’s so close that it hurts, “Play with yourself for me, love, rub your clit.”

Your hand flies down to do as you’re told without a second thought. It only takes a few, quick circles around the hard little bud before you’re cumming with a cute little squeal. Your feet kick helplessly in the air, toes curling from how hard you cum around him.

Simon groans at the sight and feeling of you losing yourself on his cock. You continue to swirl and tap at your clit, forcing yourself to cum harder and harder until you’re squirting around him with a choked off sob of his name.

Simon’s hips never still or falter, fucking you fast and deep to work you through the orgasm. Your cum splatters across his hips, thighs, and chest. It makes his eyes roll up into his head before he lets his head fall back. His jaw opens and he moans, loud and deep as his own orgasm finally washes over him.

His pace falters as you lay there twitching and crying, a few trembling thrusts of his hips as his cock spits rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums longer and harder than he has in a very long time. He continues with short, aborted little thrusts on his sensitive cock as he continues to cum.

Even when the orgasm dissipates, he finds himself fucking into the creamy mess drooling out of your twitching cunt.

“S-Simon-!” you choke out, nails clawing down his shoulders, “S-Sensitive!”

“I know, love,” he pants, almost deliriously, “J-Just one more. G-Gotta fill you up again.”

You can’t do anything but lay back and let him use your cunt as he works to force another orgasm out of his overstimulated cock. He’s gasping and whining as he moves his hips, pulling his cock out only to stuff it back inside. A mixture of your cum and his drips down, soaking his cock, pelvis, and balls. It’s a heady, lewd mess that he can’t bring himself to worry about now but he knows it’ll be a pain to clean up later.

You’re trembling and twitching with every one of his movements, tears dried and new on your cheeks. He feels a pang of remorse for you, you’re tired and overstimulated but he just needs to wring this one last orgasm out and then he’ll let you rest.

“You can be good for me, huh?” he coos sweetly, “Just be sweet and let me, fuck, use this pretty little cunt, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, nodding your head as your eyelids flutter in exhaustion.

Simon leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You both get lost in the kiss, with your arms wrapped around his neck. He loves how it feels to have you stuffed on his cock while your pretty, sweet body twitches and trembles beneath him. He knows it probably hurts by now and the fact you’re just laying there and letting him use you like this has him reaching his second high.

He chokes on a moan, gasping as he cums for the final time. It’s much more lackluster than his first one but he still fills you up just like you both needed. His cock twitches almost painfully inside you as he slowly rocks his hips, wincing at the overstimulation.

After a few, still moments, he pulls his length free from the soft plushness of your cunt and rolls off of you. You’re both panting, laying on your backs on the bed as you come back to yourselves.

You’re the first one to move, rolling onto your side and wrapping yourself around him. Simon finds himself smiling when he feels the sweet way you snuggle against him, seeking his comfort automatically.

You start shivering, the mess of cum and sweat on your body causing you to become cold. He urges you to sit up despite your protests.

“Let’s take a shower and sleep,” he offers sweetly, supporting your shaky body to the bathroom.

He continues to support you and hold you close through the shower. He finds himself grateful that there’s still hot water because you both certainly need it after such a messy tryst in his bed.

You’re the first to fall asleep, tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around him like a little koala. His hand strokes up and down your back, just staring into the inky blackness of his bedroom.

Part of him feels like it’s all a dream, to have someone so sweet tucked against him, offering him comfort and feeling safe as they snooze peacefully. A sense of fierce protectiveness washes over him as he finds himself going through plans in his head – what the future may hold.

He’s torn from his thoughts when you shoot up from your deep sleep with a gasp. Your head wildly turns, looking around the room. His hand finds purchase on your back, making you jump before relaxing immediately in recognition.

“Bad dream?” he asks, tugging you gently to lay you back down against his chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I dreamt that I was trapped with them in that hallway again.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you to make sure you feel secure. You go still for a long time and he thinks you fell asleep again but then you ask him a question that surprises him.

“Who are those people in the photos?” you quietly question, “In your living room.”

He hums, rubbing a rough hand up and down your shoulder and arm, “My teammates. Friends, I guess.”

“You guess?” you chuckle.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “Task Force 141; Captain John Price, and Seargets John ‘Soap’ MacTavish and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.”

“Soap is a silly name,” you comment, grinning up at him, resting your chin against his chest, “What about you?”

“Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley,” he responds with ease.

“Do you know where they are?” you ask.

It’s an innocent question but it sends a pang of hurt to his chest. If he were a weaker, less trained man, he may have felt tears pricking his eyes, “I don’t know,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I was in contact with Soap when everything started goin’ to shit. Lost contact with him though. He’s a tough bastard though, I’m sure he’s fine somewhere out there. I don’t know where the other two were or are.”

“If they’re even half as good as you, I’m sure they’re all fine,” you offer optimistically.

Simon hums again, reaching a hand up to brush a stray flyaway off of your forehead. His big hand cups your cheek, stroking his thumb over your lips which you offer a gentle kiss against.

“All I’m worried about now is you,” he confesses softly, “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be happy. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” you smile, laying back down to nuzzle against his chest, “I’m okay as long as you’re here.”

He wraps his arms around you again and closes his eyes, letting himself sleep peacefully with you held safe against him.

It’s not even a week later that you’re sitting on the couch with him, peacefully watching a movie with a full belly after cooking a quick dinner with him, that you hear a loud, mechanical thump and you’re plunged into complete silence and darkness. Your heart jumps and races in your chest, mindlessly grappling onto Simon’s arm as he sits still beside you.

“What happened?” you ask, whispering as if you’re scared to speak any louder.

“Power went out,” he responds, not sounding the least bit perturbed, “Knew it was comin’. Water’s probably out now too.”

“What do we do?” you ask, the tremor of fear in your voice practically breaking his heart.

He stands up and you whimper in fear when he’s out of your reach. You can hear him moving around in the dark before a bright, blinding light lands on you.

“We can’t stay here for much longer,” he responds, “We’ll have to move out and find somewhere with more resources.”

“How long have you been planning this?” you ask, getting to your feet to follow him down the hall to the bedroom.

“Ever since the news stopped reportin’,” he responds, grabbing a large backpack from the closet, “Let’s pack up.”

You linger beside him and he looks at you with a raised brow, “I’m scared, Simon.”

His gaze softens and he walks up to you, cupping your cheeks tenderly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, “We’re goin’ to go out, find a small place to hunker down. We’ll look for a generator or a vehicle and get somewhere safe. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nod your head, “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, “Now take this backpack and fill it with what’s left of our canned food, alright? I’m goin’ to pack everything else we need, don’t worry about a thing.”

He offers you a flashlight, which you gratefully take and click on. You’re glad that he gives you an easy task to focus on. You take the smaller backpack he offers you and make your way to the kitchen. You only have about 5 cans of food left and you carefully place them inside the bag before opening the refrigerator to pack a few full bottles of water that you have stored in there. You make sure to toss in a can opener just in case before you place the backpack on the couch.

Simon emerges from the room with the large, military backpack slung over his shoulder.

“You get it all?” he asks, taking a seat to shove his boots onto his feet.

“Yeah and a couple water bottles,” you respond, approaching him slowly.

“That’s perfect,” he praises, looking over at you, “You should go get dressed. Jeans and a hoodie. Put your sneakers on and make sure they’re tight, got it?”

You nervously do as you’re told, disappearing into the bedroom to quickly dress yourself under the flashlight. You can hear Simon moving around in the living room, heavy boots thumping against the floor with every step he takes.

You toss the hoodie over your head and make your way back to Simon, who stands in the living room, looking out the window. The sun is just beginning to come up over the horizon, casting a dim amount of sunlight to come through.

He turns to look at you when he hears you approach.

“There you go,” he hums, pulling the hoodie up over your head and tightening the strings, “Keep your neck covered. We’ll find you some better clothing somewhere along the way.”

You nod your head and take a glance over his shoulder out the window. You can barely see the ground from your position but you can see people shuffling around on the streets below. A pang of fear goes through you as you realize that they’re most definitely not normal people – the streets are crawling with those undead freaks.

Simon leads you to the door and unsheaths a weapon for you – a machete he had taught you to wield with relative ease. You grip it in your hands, nervously twirling it around until you find a comfortable position. Simon nods his head and pulls out a combat knife, holding it low at his side before opening the door.

The descent to the lobby is relatively easy, you walk over the undead that have already been taken care of in the stairwell.

“I took care of these already,” he explains without you even having to ask, helping you jump over a pile of 3 zombies at the foot of the stairs.

“You got more kills under your belt than me,” you comment, mostly in jest to lighten your mood.

Simon huffs under his breath, slowly pushing open the door to the lobby, “You have no idea.”

You squint and turn off your flashlight when you step into the well lit lobby. The sun is now above the horizon, allowing you to see with ease once again.

Simon remains in front of you, making your way to the double front doors. You peek around him, heart racing in your chest as your grip on your weapon tightens.

“Are you ready?” he asks, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“No…” you confess, shuffling closer to him.

“Everything will be okay,” he promises firmly and you actually believe him.

When he pushes open the door, the groans of the undead fill your ears and you find your eyes darting frantically around the streets that you can now see with terrifying clarity.

Hundreds of undead swarm the streets, stumbling and groaning as they shuffle around aimlessly in search of food. Simon reaches down and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You know it’s going to be the fight of your life but with Simon by your side, you have faith that you’re going to make it through and find somewhere safe together.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

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imaginedisish · 2 months

Text

Savior Complex (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the request I said I'd write. I hope it's what the anon wanted. It's quite long...and maybe a little different than my other Logan works...so I hope you guys enjoy. Inspired (obviously), by "Savior Complex" by Phoebe Bridgers.

Summary: You are willing to give up everything, including your own life, to save your found family. Logan, however, is not willing to let you do that. And he finally shows you why.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!! Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, friends to lovers, hurt to comfort, mutant!reader, omega!mutant!reader, fem!reader/afab!reader, allusions to death, canon typical violence, cursing, likely some grammatical errors, and I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,549 eeeeeesssshhhh

“Stay down!” Logan yells, his body hunched over yours, shielding you against the trunk of a thick tree.

You try to push him away. “We need to move!” You protest, shoving at him to no avail. He’s more solid than the tree at your back, firm, unwavering. Bullets fly overhead, swishing through the air. You listen to the sounds of triggers clicking and guns cracking. “I need to get out there!”

Logan presses himself further into you, his chest flush with yours. “You are not going anywhere,” he spits, his eyes trained on you. He’s studying every shift in your expression, every twitch in your shoulders and every flinch you make at the firing of a gun in the distance.

“Logan,” you say, trying to stand up straight, to force yourself from his hold. You raise your voice. “I’m going out there, and you are not stopping me.” You brace your hands at your sides, ready to use your powers if necessary. “Now is not the time to be the overbearing, protective friend, okay?”

Logan refuses to let up, unleashing his claws and digging them into the tree on either side of your body, caging you in, trapping you in place. “Well, isn’t that just too bad?” He mutters cockily, that shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Because I’m not going anywhere, princess.”

You swallow, flexing your palms, stretching your fingers down to the ground. “I’ll give you one second to reconsider that decision.”

He laughs, too self-assured for his own good. “And what are you gonna do—”

“Sorry, bub,” you chide, sarcasm heavy in your voice as you interrupt him. “But your second is up.” You shut your eyes, reaching towards the ground. Thin, black shadows—spirits—slip up through the blades of grass, nipping at Logan’s legs, wrapping around his ankles tightly.

He looks down as the shadows pull him away from the tree, his claws slipping from the bark with little to no resistance. More shadows emerge, twirling around his wrists and yanking them down to his sides.

“No!” He protests, thrashing as you step away from him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He cries out, trying his best to break free from the tight hold of the shadows.

“Using my powers,” you say nonchalantly, putting some distance between you and Logan as you step backward. You smile. “Spirit weaving. Started calling it that the other day, actually!” You’re gloating off now, showing off, manipulating the spirits to tighten around him.

You can see the irritation on his face—the fury written across his furrowed brow. “Oh! How cool!” He is far beyond sardonic—his voice a mocking jeer. “Now let me fucking go!”

You purse your lips, pretending to consider the thought as you backpedal through the surrounding trees. “Yeah…” you trail off. “I don’t think so. Think I gotta get a head start first.”

And then you make a break for it, sprinting through the trees, cracking the branches scattered along the forest floor. You can see the mansion in the distance, the government agents rounding up the children. The sight sets off something deep inside you. You can feel the anger in your heart, squeezing tightly, dread filling your stomach. You’ve let go of your hold on Logan, your focus now on something far more important.

You have to save the school. Your friends. Your family. You’re not an Omega-level mutant for nothing, after all.

You take a step closer to the school, grass dying underneath your feet as your boots tread along the ground—the bright green blades turn brown as you give in to your anger. Somewhere in the distance, a familiar voice calls your name, but it’s too late for that—too late to stop you now. Your eyes flicker closed and open again, changing colors as your powers take control: your left eye white and your right black—representing life and death.

My dear, Charles is suddenly your head. You must restrain yourself. You must back down.

“No,” you call out, your voice multi-dimensional, bassy and high, light and heavy. “It is time they learn we are not to be taken advantage of.”

It is too dangerous, my child, his voice bounces around your mind. Charles works hard to convince you, showing you visions of your death, of the potential consequences of your actions. This is not you. This is your anger.

“I know what I’m doing,” you protest, your voice echoing across the field.

The agents watch as you stalk across the lawn, spirits following closely at your ankles like a thick, massive cloud of black smoke.

Your name rings out from behind you. You can feel the tug of the familiar voice, the desire to turn around and see that face, to hear him call your name again. But you stifle the feelings down, struggling to ignore the way your heart begs to see him—Logan. You can feel yourself caught in the middle, split in two.

A tear slips down your cheek as you walk forward, closer to the agents. Their guns point at you—hundreds of fingers on triggers, aiming carefully with squinting eyes. You can see they’re no longer paying attention to the children. You’ve given the students their chance—their way out. You can see it in their faces; they know. They’re just waiting for your signal.

Spirits cloud your fists, climbing into your palms, eager for a fight. You bend your knees, digging your heels into the ground. The grass between you and the government agents has long since died. You can feel the tension, feel the spirits rumbling in the air and in your hands.

“You wanted a fight…” You pause, your voice a crack of thunder. “I’ll give you a fucking fight.” The spirits whisper in your ears, their hums filling the air. They aren’t dead; they’re drumming, living things. It’s time. Oh yes, it’s time. Go!

“Now run!” You scream to the children, unleashing the spirits across the lawn. You sprint across the field, black shadows knocking the agents over and throwing them away. You guide the spirits with your mind, directing them with the flick of your wrist and the point of your finger.

You’re bloodthirsty, searching for the mission’s organizer, hunting tirelessly for their leader. The spirits know what you want—what you need—and swarm around a man at the back of the lawn—the man following the children.

The spirits pick you up by your knees and your shoulders, lifting you into the air and towards the man. You fall to the ground right behind him.

You smirk hatefully, extending your fingers toward his ankles. Shadows surge him, threading around his legs, twisting up his stomach, and wrapping tightly around his throat.

“W-who the fuck are you?” The agent chokes out.

You cock your head to the side, grinning widely. The spirits goad you along. Tap his little head. You know you want to. Take his life. Go on. Take it. One tap to his temple—that’s all it would take—and his life would be yours. It’s something you’ve never done before, something you’ve been able to resist in the past. But this time, you can’t help it.

“Who am I?” You repeat condescendingly, laughing manically. You lift your hand, inching closer to his forehead. “I,” you pause, your fingertips brushing against his skin. “Am death.” Your white eye flickers out, turning pitch black.

This is what the Professor had always been afraid of.

“Don’t!” There’s that voice again, tugging at your heart. “Please, don’t.”

You keep your hold on the agent as you turn around. Logan. He’s in front of you now, approaching you slowly. Behind him, spirits wreck the other government agents, sweeping them up, throwing them away, holding them down. The other X-Men fight off the few remaining agents easily.

“I am going to finish this,” you say, struggling to hold on to your powers. Your hatred and anger fade at the sight of Logan—wearing the uniform he said he never would, his hair a disheveled mess, his hand slowly extending out to you.

He shakes his head, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “It’s already over,” he says firmly, taking your hand. You turn around and see that the government agent is passed out on the ground, likely from the pressure of the spirits choking his throat.

“If you hold on any longer, you’re gonna hurt yourself, princess.” Your eyes flicker at the nickname, your grip loosening on your powers. You can feel yourself slipping, fading away.

“H-have to f-finish the job,” you stutter, fighting against that tear in your heart.

Logan pulls you towards him, his thumb brushing soft circles to the top of your hand. “Think you already did, sweetheart.”

“N-no, she didn’t,” you hear a voice mutter from behind you. BANG! A gun cracks, and there’s suddenly a stinging sensation in your side. You turn, and the government agent is freed from your hold, his gun aimed at your head now.

“NO!” Logan shouts, but you ignore him, your powers flooding back to you. The spirits swarm the agent again, winding up his body and holding him in place. The shadows trail up your body too, coming to where the bullet hit your side and pulling the metal shell out.

You fight through the pain, pressing your pointer and middle fingers to the temple of the agent’s head. “This might hurt a bit,” you mumble, taking a deep breath and stealing his life force. “Just taking retribution.” His veins darken as your wound closes, taking only enough of the man’s life to heal yourself.

You sigh with relief as the wound becomes nothing. You lift your fingers from the agent’s head, and he slumps down to the ground. He’s truly incapacitated now, passed out cold.

You turn around, and Logan is still standing there. He approaches you again. You suddenly feel overwhelmed and woozy. It was too much, you realize.

Your eyes flicker again—black, white, normal, shifting quickly, shakily, like power going out in a thunderstorm. “L-Logan,” you stammer, hunching over, your hands on your thighs. He crouches down, letting you lean into him.

“Hey,” he whispers reassuringly—but you can hear the secret panic in his voice. “I’ve got you.”

The others call your name in the distance.

“I did it,” you whisper.

The spirits disappear from the field, slipping back under the ground.

Logan’s eyes are glossed over. “Yeah, you did sweetheart.” You fall fully into Logan, his arms wrapping around you, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

And then everything goes black.

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

“Still in here, Logan?” It’s Charles.

“Yeah,” Logan’s voice is raspy, tired. And it’s close, like you could reach out and strum the sound waves. “Are the kids okay?”

“They’re all safe and accounted for,” Charles says. “And Hank is handling the government side of things. It was an unsanctioned attack.” Silence settles over the room, the pause strained and tense. “She’s going to be okay. You should get some rest.”

“I’m staying.”

“Logan—”

“I said I’m staying.” And then the door shuts.

Your eyes slowly open, and you realize you’re back in the mansion—in your room, your bed. Logan notices immediately, standing from the chair next to your bed and rushing to your side.

“Hey,” he soothes, his hand reaching out, gently cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch involuntarily. It’s an instinct—something you simply have to do. “You’re awake.”

“No visit to the lab for me, huh?” You joke, sitting up a bit as your memories flood back to you. You’re surprised that you don’t feel any injuries or soreness.

Logan swallows nervously. “You were…” he trails off, his eyes searching yours. “Earlier. All day, actually.” His thumb brushes against your cheek. “Everyone was worried about you.”

You shake your head, smiling softly. “I’m alright. I don’t feel a thing.”

But Logan isn’t swayed. You can see the fear in his eyes, the stress in his shoulders. “You should’ve let me hold you back.” He’s serious, his voice firm and steady. “You could’ve gotten hurt…” He struggles to get the words out, his eyes grazing up and down your body. “You could’ve died.”

“Logan,” you mumble, sitting up. “I did what I did because I had to,” you pause, your heart squeezing at the look on his face. “I’d give my life for this family. I would—”

“You’re not giving your life for anything; do you hear me?” He cuts you off, furrowing his brows, his other hand cupping your cheek now, too.

You close your eyes at the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his palms. “I would give my life to save you.” The words slip freely from your lips. You’re so sure of that fact, so impossibly certain.

He pulls you closer to him, his hands sliding from your face to the nape of your neck. “I won’t let that happen.”

“Logan I will always—”

But he cuts off your protests. “Enough of your fucking savior complex.” His voice is shaky now. He pulls you into his chest, and you let him. His arms slip down your back, pressing you tightly to him. His lips are at the shell of your ear. “I am not losing you.”

The vulnerability of his words shocks you, your breath catching in your throat. “You won’t,” you promise, burying your face into the center of his chest.

“I almost did,” he chokes out, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. His words kill you, your heart aching at the sadness in his voice.

You lift your head from his chest, looking up at him as he looks down at you. He’s massive, towering over you. You can smell him on your clothes, on your skin—tobacco and pine and musk. There’s a shift in his expression, in the tension in the room. His chest heaves under his beater.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, your hands sliding up his stomach, trailing over his abs. He relaxes into your touch, the stress leaving his shoulders. He leans over you, his forehead pressing to yours. The contact and the closeness are dizzying, your mind hazy as Logan’s fingertips ghost the sides of your waist.

He swallows harshly as his lips brush against yours—a whisper of a kiss. “Wouldn’t even give you the chance,” he mumbles. You can feel the charge in the air, the anticipation. There’s a look on his face, and you recognize it immediately. You feel it too.

Longing. Need.

His lips capture yours, engulfing you like a fire. His hands slip under your shirt, exploring your skin. He’s breathing you in, and you’re breathing him out. You’re suddenly one extraordinary machine, working together, moving against each other in time.

Logan pushes you down to the mattress, his lips still on yours, the kiss becoming rushed and frantic. He climbs on top of you, his bare arms caging you in on either side of your head. You spread your legs for him, giving him room to settle in between. You can feel his erection strain against his jeans as he rocks into you. The friction feels good, but it’s not enough. You grind against him, needy for more.

“Fuck,” he pants between kisses, lowering himself down onto his forearm to close the gap between you. His free hand finds the hem of your shirt and slips underneath, his fingertips trailing up and down your body. He’s still rutting into you, his cock nudging against your needy core.

You grab at his back, pulling on his beater. “L-Logan,” you stutter, his fingers bumping into the bottom of your bra. You arch up into him, giving him the space he needs to bring his hand to your back and unclasp it. He sits up, quickly pulling your shirt up and over your head, slipping your bra off, too.

He lays you back down, hovering over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand drifts up to your breasts. He squeezes softly, his thumb tracing over your nipples. “Beautiful,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck, biting your pulse point. “So fucking beautiful.”

His soft bites turn into kisses, trailing down your neck to your collarbone. He kisses in between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your shorts. You swallow, nodding frantically as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs in one fluid motion.

You’re exposed to him—bare. He settles back in between your legs, his mouth just inches away from where you need him most. His breath fans across your clit, a jolt of electricity sparking a fire at the base of your spine. You can feel the ache between your legs growing.

“Please,” you beg, Logan’s name hanging on the tip of your tongue as you look down at him. He presses a teasing kiss to your clit, his eyes focused on you, on every move you make. “Logan, I need—”

You’re cut off by his tongue—a long, flat stripe licking through your folds, up to your clit. His tongue flits out, flicking lightly before starting all over again. “Gonna take my time with you, pretty girl,” he murmurs against you, the vibrations of his bassy voice coursing through you. Your walls squeeze down around nothing, begging for more, begging for release. “Gonna make you feel good.”

He spreads his palm against your inner thigh, nudging you open for him. His nails dig into your skin, fingers trailing up closer to your core. “Please,” you whine. “Want you.”

Logan’s fingers finally meet your folds, his tongue flicking your clit and pulling it between his lips, sucking softly. “Tastes so good,” he mumbles against you. “So fucking sweet.” Two fingers nudge your entrance, testing the waters, spreading you open slowly.

You open your mouth to beg for him again, but then he’s thrusting inside you—knuckle deep—his fingers stretching you out. Your walls flutter around him as he pulls out and pushes all the way back in. His swirls circles into your clit, his tongue lapping at you, savoring the taste of you.

He slides his free hand under your back and to your hip, hoisting you closer to him as he buries his face into your cunt. There’s a hunger in his eyes. No, it’s so far beyond hunger. He’s starving—starving for you and only you. If he could live inside you, he would.

He’s relentless as he sucks your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you. He can feel you shaking underneath him, trembling. His thumb draws gentle, comforting circles along your hip. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers in between thrusts. “Doing so good for me, taking it so well.” Your muscles contract around him at the words, his praises overwhelming you.

He's getting you there—the fire spreading, creeping in, ready to consume everything in its path. “’M’so close,” you moan, overstimulated and fucked out. Logan doesn’t slow down, his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. You can feel yourself coming undone, unraveling before him.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he soothes between laps. “Come on my tongue, just like that.” And then you’re letting go, coming around his fingers. Fire washes over you, beat after beat, pump after pump. It hits you in waves, the sensation crashing into you as Logan works you through your orgasm.

He’s whispering praises as he savors your taste on his tongue. So good, sweetheart. Letting me take care of you. I’ve got you. So fucking pretty.

His thrusts slow down, gently rubbing at your walls before sliding out. But his tongue is still working at your clit, lapping softly. “Could eat you out for hours, princess,” he says, licking another long stripe through your folds. “Maybe I will.” You can feel him smile against you.

But you need him, need him closer—as close as he can possibly be. “Logan,” you call out, already close to coming again. “Want you now,” you plead.

He licks one more long stripe before lifting his head. He sits up, staring down at you as he lifts his beater up and over his head. You stare at his chest, the way his muscles flex as he breathes. Your arousal glistens on his lips, his chin.

He unbuckles his belt and slips it from the loops, casting it to the ground with a loud clank. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, tugging them down his legs along with his boxers. His cock springs free, and he is so much bigger than you ever imagined he’d be. You swallow at the sight, and Logan smiles.

He is so cocksure, but maybe he deserves to be.

He lowers himself down over you, once again balancing on his forearm. His free hand trails up your sides teasingly before resting on your hip. “Gonna go slow, princess,” he whispers, biting your bottom lip and then stealing a kiss. “Nice and easy.” His hand on your hip disappears, leaving you suddenly cold and empty without his touch. But you know where he’s going—know that he’s wrapping his fist around the base of his cock. You spread your legs for him, inviting him inside.

He nudges against you, sliding up and down your folds, feeling you. His tip bumps against your clit, sending a shiver down your spine as you squirm underneath him. He finds your entrance again, his head slipping in, and then pulling back out.

His teasing is too much. You need him, more than anything, ever. “Please, Lo. Need you inside—”

Your words get stuck in your throat as Logan thrusts deep inside you, his cock rubbing against your walls, stretching you out. You moan his name, arching your back, your breasts pressing against his chest. He stays there for a moment, his cock throbbing inside you, giving you a second to adjust to the size of him. But it’s not enough—you need him to move. You lift your hips, searching for more friction.

Logan pins you down, his free hand stilling you at your waist. “Wanna take my time with you,” he growls, sliding out and thrusting back in. “Wanna feel every inch of you.” He’s setting the pace: slow, but building. Once he’s sure you’re not going anywhere, he lifts his grip from your hip and brings his hand down between where your bodies connect.

He finds your clit again, still swollen and overstimulated, and starts to work slow, gentle circles into it. You’re already close, already almost at that edge.

Logan’s thrusts become rougher, deeper. He rocks into you, plunging himself down to the hilt as he flicks your clit. He swallows your moans with a kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You open your mouth, letting him inside. You’d give him anything—absolutely anything he wanted. He never even has to ask.

“Yours,” you breathe into the kiss. “All yours.”

“F-fuck,” he curses, rutting into you, your words goading him along. “Mine,” He growls, his hips snapping faster, his pace quickening with every thrust. “All mine, pretty girl.”

And then the confession spills from your lips. You can’t control it. “I love you.”

Logan pounds into you harder. “I love you, too.” He can’t control himself either. You squeeze around him, the words practically pushing you over the edge. “Needed you this whole time, sweetheart. The whole fucking time.”

You throw your head back, exposing your throat to him. He buries himself into the crook of your neck as he pumps in and out of you, biting down on your pulse point again and then licking away the pain.

“Can feel you getting close, darlin’,” he coos, his fingers still stroking your clit. Your walls flutter and contract around him. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Your chests heave together, one single breath flowing between the two of you as he thrusts deeper. You’re slipping, letting go, crashing beneath him. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer. “Lo…” you trail off, unable to form a sentence.

“Love it when you say my name, sweetheart,” he grunts. “Say it again for me.”

“Logan,” you whine, your legs wrapping around his waist as he fucks into you. You can’t hold back anymore. It’s too much. And he knows.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he says, rubbing at your clit. “Let go for me.”

You do, clenching down onto him, pulling him deeper. He groans at the feeling, his pace faltering as you come around him. You’re melting into the sheets, your muscles tensing and relaxing, white-hot heat spreading across your vision.

“Fuck,” Logan groans, working you through your orgasm. After a few more slow, languid strokes around your clit, his hand slips from your core and up your body. He squeezes your breasts before sliding his palm behind your back, lifting you up for better leverage. He fucks up into you, pressing you closer to his chest.

You tighten your legs around his waist, keeping him in place. He knows what you’re asking him for. “Inside?”

“Yes,” you murmur. He brings his lips to yours as he comes inside you, filling you up. He’s so warm, so solid. You cling to him as he finishes, not wanting to let go. His pumps slow until he’s still inside you. He holds you there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together.

Logan carefully pulls out. He rolls off you and pulls you with him so that you’re lying on your side next to him. He wraps his arms around you, keeping you pressed against his chest. Your legs tangle together.

The intimacy of the moment suddenly sobers you, and memories of today come flooding back. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes. Logan notices immediately.

“Hey,” he whispers, panic clear in his voice. “It’s okay,” he soothes, running his hands along your back. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry…” you trail off, burying your face into his neck. “I’m so sorry for scaring you, for hurting you, for putting myself in danger. I just—”

“I know,” he interrupts you. “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’m here.”

“I won’t leave you,” you vow. “I promise.”

“Don’t promise,” he says softly. You look up at him, a sad smile spread across his face.

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

He swallows. “Because I would’ve done the same for you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’d tear the world apart for you.” He pauses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smile, your tears subsiding. You take a deep breath and recall something he had said before. “So, who has the savior complex now?” You joke.

“Me,” he says back, half joking, but half serious, too. You can hear it—the honesty, the intention. “I’d do anything to save you.”

“It’s not gonna come to that.”

“But when—” he stops himself. “If it does, I’ll be there.” He pauses. “I will always choose you. Always. Every time.”

Always. Always. Always.

It’s all you can think about as you fall asleep in Logan’s arms.

2K notes · View notes

slvttyplum · 7 months

Note

Accidentally hitting gojo in the nuts and he asks u to kiss it better lol

what was an innocent, playful fight between you and satoru turned into you getting face-fucked against the wall.

“satoru, stop i said that hurts!” pushing your foot against his stomach, but his weight is pressing down on you as he aggressively tickles your stomach.

“ugh, you’re such a crybaby; no, it doesn’t.” his fingertips digging into your stomach so hard that it doesn’t even hurt, as in he’s tickling you too much; it hurts because he’s literally pressing into your stomach.

“no, you fucking ass hat, it actually hurts!” trying to flail your body all around on the couch to get out of his grasp, but you can’t, so you push on his stomach more.

pushing your foot into his stomach multiple times and then your foot slipping and going straight for his dick, accidentally kicking him.

“FUCK!!” his weight slipping off of you, and you can finally breathe. satoru backing up, clenching himself, and shouting.

you quickly get up and walk towards him, reaching your hands out to touch where his hands were, but he continues to moan and groan, backing away.

“stay away, you psycho!” your shocked face is now turning to anger as you step closer to him and kick his hand, causing another shout.

“fuck off. i told you to stop.” satoru drops his hand and rolls his eyes, getting in your face.

“i thought you were joking; now i’m hurt. what are you going to do?” his eyes dark, and his mouth frowns into a pout as he stares you down.

all you do is roll your eyes and walk to the couch, flopping down on it. satoru was ridiculous.

“come on, kiss it better!” he walks in between your legs, pouting and whining. all you do is roll your eyes and push him back.

“i’m not kissing your fucking dick.” he grabs your wrist, pulls you up, and pulls you towards the bedroom, your eyes widening. you already know where this is going.

satoru tries to pull you onto the bed, but you are actively pulling back, your body giving up, and you collapse on the floor against the wall.

“come on, be good for me, okay?” unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, his dick plops out and rests against his belly button. one of your eyebrows shooting up from confusion.

“the fuck?”

“it’s sensitive, okay?” satoru scoots up closer to your face, takes his hand, and cups your cheek while his other hand grips his length and softly taps it against your lips.

you softly peck his member a few times before slowly sliding your tongue out and taking a long stripe, satoru’s legs already twitching with anticipation.

your hand coming up to grip the bottom of his shaft before licking his tip, then slowly sliding down only a little bit, then back to the tip.

satoru’s face is red, and his mouth is in a frown as he groans.

“come on, stop teasing.”

your mouth still going in the same motion before stopping and smirking up at him.

“you said a kiss. be glad i’m doing this much.” he rolls his eyes and squeezes your cheeks, feeling that off flesh inside your mouth on his length.

he places his hand on the other side of your cheek and just goes for it. pushing his hips into you and your head hitting the wall, he doesn’t stop, and he only goes faster.

sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and sinking his front teeth into his bottom lip, trying to hold in his moans, but to no avail. his mouth flies open when he feels your tongue swirl around his length and your warm saliva coating him.

your mouth purposefully hollowing out as you suck in and lick, repeating it over and over again. satoru pushing your cheeks in about to lose your balance, your hands sliding up to the back on his thighs.

his pace slamming into you, getting sloppier, and his moans turning into whimpers, almost whining.

satoru’s thumbs digging into your cheeks and his legs still getting unsteady, you could feel his knees buckle, your eyes squinting shut when you felt his cum trickle into your mouth.

he stammers, then his grip on your face loosens as he falls back, collapsing onto the floor. gulping down his cum quickly, you hover over him.

“get someone else to kiss that better.”

satoru was about to say something, but his mouth wouldn’t let him, only one last whimper before closing his eyes.

and that’s what he gets for using his injuries as an advantage.

2K notes · View notes

moonlightpetalz6 · 1 year

Text

I'll Make It Better

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji

Reader: fem reader

Warning: harsh language, bruises, pet names, blood, suggestive nsfw (Zoro, Sanji)

Context: They spot a fresh bruise left on the reader and wish to kiss it all better~

Wc: 4,600

A/n: I would be so lucky! The number of random bruises I wake up with?! PLEASE KISS IT BETTER DADD- I’ll stop now hehe~

______________________________________________________________

LUFFY

You sat on the thousand sunny humming to yourself as you carefully polished one of Sanji's cooking knives. You had been working on the Baratie with Sanji when the straw hat pirates had appeared. At first, you were scared, hiding behind any of your coworkers whenever the new busboy, Luffy, kept trying to speak to you. You knew he was a pirate as you watched him get in trouble for not paying for all the food he had eaten. Eventually, you came around to the rubber boy when you had been hiding from him in the kitchen, none of your coworkers currently available to be your human shield. Luffy was looking for you all around before spotting you trappin' you in the corner as he asked you to join his crew for the third time.

You recall Sanji yelling at him each time, stating that you weren't a fighter, just a waitress taking a few cooking lessons from everyone. However, Luffy never cared about that. "You make those yummy desserts, right?" He had asked you, a giant smile on his face, practically drooling over just the thought of your yummy sweets. You shyly nodded your head, still uncomfortable around the pirate. "Then join my crew! I want to keep eating your yummy sweets!" he laughed while placing a hand on your head, causing a tiny blush on your cheeks. Of course, you only agreed once you watched the straw hat defend the restaurant you grew to call home, making sure to give everyone proper goodbyes as you and Sanji set off on your new journey.

Smiling at the memory, you carefully place the newly polished kitchen knife with the others. “Y/n!!!!!!!” You heard the familiar voice of your captain shout, followed by arms wrapping around your shoulders. You smiled, a small blush on your cheeks as you felt his body press against your back. 'He's warm.' as the thought crossed your mind, you noticed Luffy leaning over you with a giant smile as his straw hat blocked some of the sun from your eyes. "Hi, Luffy." You giggled softly at your energetic captain, whose arms wrapped around you. "Y/n, I want something sweet!" He demanded, giving you his signature smile as he looked at you with bright eyes. You hum, turning your gaze away from him as you look up, trying to think of what you could make him. "Would you like something warm or cold? How sweet?" You started asking multiple questions about what kind of sweet he sought.

Luffy just watched you, not processing your words as he smiled lovingly whenever that childish light filled your eyes whenever you talked about desserts. It made him fall in love with you two years ago when you both went crazy over the desserts at a bakery you visited while Sanji shopped for ingredients. Luffy didn't say anything as he carefully went and held your chin between his thumb and index finger, causing you to freeze a slight blush on your cheeks. Luffy turned you to face him with a giant smile and laughed. "I want something sweet right now!" He declared before leaning in to kiss your lips. You squealed a small giggle muffled into the kiss as you happily accepted it.

Luffy hummed, satisfied with the kiss as his arms, still wrapped around your shoulders, gave a slight squeeze. You slightly flinched as you felt some pain in your right shoulder. Luffy instantly noticed the flinch and pulled away, his eyes examining you curiously, a slight pout on his cheeks. "What's wrong? Did I do something?" You internally cursed as you shook your head, not liking the sad puppy look your boyfriend/captain gave you. "N-no! It's not you!" you stammered quickly, sitting on your knees as you shook your hands in front of your face. "I-it was just my shoulder, is all…" You trailed off, not wanting to make eye contact with your boyfriend. "Your shoulder?" He questioned before carefully sliding the fabric of your shirt away from the area you had mentioned.

Luffy's eyes widened as he saw the freshly formed bruise covering your usually untouched skin. "WHAT HAPPENED?!?!" He cried, worried as he looked at your shoulder, unsure what to do as he knew you're not a fighter and your pain tolerance isn't the best. "I'll go get Chopper!" as he's getting up to find the doctor, you grab his wrist, stopping him as you laugh, a giant smile on your face. "Haha! Luffy, it's just a bruise! It will be gone within a few days!" Your boyfriend pouts his eyes, not leaving the tainted flesh on your shoulder. You just smiled carefully, placing your hand over it, your fingers barely touching the tender skin. "It must have happened earlier when I was helping Sanji carry some of the heavy bags. I ended up bumping into the doorframe." You admitted with a content nod.

Luffy just stared at your shoulder, not saying a word before he went and sat on his butt, legs spread open as he held his arms out towards you. You hum, looking at him curiously, before crawling to the spot between his legs. Luffy watches you sit comfortably between his legs before wrapping his arms around your waist. "How much does it hurt?" He asked, resting his chin on your head as he lifted a hand to poke at the bruise softly. You cringe a bit, causing Luffy to mumble an apology. "It just hurts a little, is all. Honestly, Luffy, I'm fine! It's not the first time I've had a-!!!" You stop speaking as a deep blush covers your cheeks, eyes comprehensive.

Luffy sat there, his lips carefully pressed against the bruise, his hand cupping your shoulder. "L-Luffy?!" You squeak, surprised at his sudden loving gesture. Luffy pulls away from the kiss and smiles at you, his arms pulling your waist closer to him as he lets out a loud laugh. "Shishishi! Your kisses are always sweet, so if I keep kissing the bruise, the sweetness will make it go away, right?!" He looked at you with joy-filled eyes and a slight blush. You looked at him in awe before a gentle smile graced your face as you lightly kissed his cheek.

"Mhm! I love you, Luffy!"

______

ZORO

You quietly tiptoed your way onto the thousand sunny. The crew had docked at a small island for a few weeks, and today, you had gone out drinking with Nami, the two of you wanting to party once again like you used to when you both joined the crew early on. "Do you think they're all asleep?" You whispered, glancing back at the navigator, who was also trying her best to be quiet. "For your sake, I hope so." She muttered, her head gesturing towards the hand covering your eye. You just scoffed, rolling the visible eye. "Let's just get to the infirmary." She nods as both of you sneak through the dark halls of the ship. "How are you feeling?" Nami asks as you both reach the door to Choppers' work area.

Relief washed over you when the lights turned on, and the room was empty. "Sit in the chair; I'll get the first aid kit." You do as Nami says, tossing your coat on the back of the chair before sitting with a loud sigh. "I didn't know how tired I was." You muttered, causing Nami to laugh as she walked to you, kit in hand. You watched her place it on the table, slowly taking what you needed out. "Well, I could be wrong, but I think a big part of that could be what happened there." She gestured to her left eye, a sly smile on her face. You hum, leaning back in the chair, hand still covering the irritated area. "Whatever, let's just get this over with." Before either of you could do anything else, the door opened, causing you to jump as you both turned to see who entered the room.

You felt your heart stop as the little color you had left in your face drained out. There in the doorway stood your highly protective boyfriend, Roronoa Zoro. You clenched your jaw and refused to move even slightly from your spot. Zoro looked at the two of you; his brow raised as he stopped messing with the bandage on his hand. "You two are back? What are you doing here?" he grumbled, assuming you would still be out enjoying your night. You cleared your throat, avoiding the swordsman, not wanting him to notice anything wrong. Nami just laughed as she stood before you, waving a hand.

"We just got tired! Y/n and I wanted to ensure we treated any cuts from our heels!" You commended Nami for how fast she made excuses in tense situations. Earlier that day, you and Zoro had gotten into a fight because he didn't want you only going out drinking with Nami, saying how it isn't like it used to be, and now that you were all famous pirates, danger lurked all around. Of course, you both ended up yelling at each other. One yelled how he needed to go with you both, while the other yelled how he was being overprotective. It ended with both of you storming away, not speaking for the rest of the day. 'Fuck, why him.' you thought while closing your eye; a headache started.

Zoro looked at you both, his eye narrowing in suspicion as he let out a small grunt before wrapping his wound in fresh bandages. "I see…" He mumbled, grabbing what he needed. You just sat staring at the wall, praying he would hurry up and leave. To your dismay, Zoro sat on the edge of the small bed across from you girls. He looked up at you, eye narrowed, a blank expression on his face. "Don't let me stop you then." Nami flinched, sweat trickling down her neck as she glanced back at you, unsure what to do. You bit your lip mentally, cursing your luck as your leg started shaking up and down. Zoro continued to wrap his hand, his gaze not falling from his nervous crewmates. You let out a deep sigh as you gave Nami a small smile. "It's fine. You get some rest, okay? It was a long night." You admitted while shooing her off with your free hand. Nami hesitated, looking back from you to Zoro, who waited patiently, arms resting on his knees.

"Okay…shout if you need anything. You get one free service from me as thanks for tonight." You scoffed, hitting her arm as she gave you one last smile before leaving the two of you alone. "What happened?" Wow, straight to the point, huh? You thought while sparing him a slight glance. "It was nothing." You mumbled, turning to him fully. "Are you done wrapping your wound now?" practically hinting that you want him to hurry up and leave. Zoro scoffed at your attitude as he stood up straight, brows furrowed. "It's like that, huh?" the two of you glared at one another, both too full of pride to back down. You didn't want to admit to him that, in a way, he was right about having to tag along earlier.

Zoro lets out a deep sigh as he stands up, heading towards the door. You feel your heartache as you open your mouth to call his name but stop yourself looking down at the ground. 'It's for the best. After all, it will only be another fight.' As the thought crosses your mind, you hear the door lock, causing your head to turn back. Zoro stands in front of the door, his face expressionless as his eyes lock with yours. "Zoro?" You question your boyfriend, trying to understand what he was planning. The swordsman said nothing as he slowly made his way over to your seated figure. You look away, feeling your nerves starting to get the better hand. Zoro quickly catches your chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. "Y/n…look at me, baby." Your heart dropped at his words as tears instantly filled your eyes. His voice was so gentle and filled with worry, a sound only you would ever hear from your usually uncaring boyfriend. You sighed as you removed your hand while slowly lifting your head to him.

Once your eyes met Zoro's, you instantly felt his grip on your chin tighten, his body going stiff as his eyes filled with rage. "Is it that bad?" you tried to ease the tension, quickly taking over the infirmary with a small laugh. Unfortunately, your boyfriend wasn't in a laughing mood. Oh no, Zoro was seething with rage as he stared down at your swollen and bruised eye. He noted where some dried blood stained the injury, indicating that you and Nami must have stopped the bleeding earlier after the incident. "You were bleeding." To his surprise, Zoro kept calm as he went and caressed that area of the wound, causing you to flinch, a hiss of pain leaving your lips.

"It wasn't that bad, honestly…it just covered one rag." One rag? One fucking rag of your blood?! Zoro looked up at the ceiling, his neck flexing from anger as he took a deep breath. "What happened?" He whispered, feeling his composure falter as he looked at the wound. "This jerk at the bar! He wasn't taking no for an answer and tried dragging Nami off! So, I kicked him in the knee, and…he didn't like it…" You trailed off, watching Zoro's expression go from calm to pure rage as he clenched his jaw teeth, looking like they would break. You quickly tug his wrist with a nervous smile as you try to laugh off the situation. "H-hey! If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy! This is nothing!"

Zoro grips both sides of your face, his eye boring into yours. "I'll kill him." He growled, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. You looked at your boyfriend briefly before tears began falling down your face. "Zoro! Zoro, it hurts!" Emotions finally took over as your sobs filled the room. Zoro's grip instantly loosened as he kissed all around your face, his lips hovering above your bruised eye. "Shhh. It's over now, baby. I'll kiss it all better." He mumbled while you whined slightly, signaling he could kiss the wound lightly. He chuckled as he sank to his knees to be at eye level with you. "Do you feel better?" He asked while wiping away your last few tears.

You nod, giving him a small smile. "I'm sorry, Zoro…you were right." he frowned at your words, his hands softly squeezing your thighs. "Shut up," he muttered while pressing his lips to yours. You jumped back slightly due to the shock of the sudden kiss. Zoro smirked while gently biting your bottom lip, earning a slight whine as you opened your mouth, allowing Zoro to slip his tongue in. He hums in approval while still massaging your thighs with his rough hands. After a moment, Zoro pulls away a tiny string of saliva hanging from his lips. He examines your face, seeing the deep blush on your cheeks, your lips wet from the kiss as you take a few tiny breaths.

He licked his lips as he cupped your cheek in his hand, gently caressing the area below your bruised eye with his thumb. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, admiring every part of you with his good eye. "Tch. Yeah right. In case you forgot, I have this hideous mark on my face." You gestured towards your eye with a frown on your face. Zoro hummed while dipping his face into the crook of your neck, his hands sliding up and down your thighs with occasional squeezes. "You're still beautiful…" Zoro trails off while leaving kisses up and down your neck until he finds that sweet spot, lightly biting down. "Z-zoro!" you yelp in surprise while trying to push him away. He doesn't budge as he starts to leave small hickeys and bite marks down your neck and across your collarbone. You let out a few soft moans while lightly ruffling his hair. "Zoro…" You whisper, earning a slight hum as he brings his face up to yours, giving a quick kiss as he squeezes your thighs, causing a familiar feeling between them.

"Sorry…if that bastard's mark makes you feel ugly, I wanted to leave my marks that you've said make you feel beautiful…" You blush at his words, feeling your chest flutter as he goes and leaves tender kisses all over your face again. "Do you want me to stop, baby? We can cuddle instead…" He whispered, resting his head against yours. You close your eye in thought as you process all of today's events and let out a small sigh. "As much as it pains me, I'll have to go for cuddles tonight." You sigh dramatically, earning a grunt from your lover, who rolls his eyes while standing up. "Dramatic woman." He joked as he went and started to mess with the items Nami had gotten out earlier for your eye. He kissed you before holding the things up towards your wound.

"Hold still for me Y/n baby."

________

SANJI

"Do I have to?" You whine, sitting on your bed and watching Nami and Robin go through your swimsuits. Nami looked at you, rolling her eyes as she tossed another. "Oh, come on, Y/n! It's such a nice day out!" She yelled while Robin gave a small smile, holding a swimsuit up for you to judge. You looked at it momentarily before nodding your head in approval as she handed the fabric to you. "Fine! But only because Robin picked a cute one!" You scoffed, walking away from the two girls who high-fived each other. You quickly change into the swimsuit, taking a quick scan in the mirror before your eyes land on your thighs. You puff out your cheeks when you notice the bruises. 'Oh, come on! I keep waking up to these.' Your eye twitched in annoyance as you stormed out of the room to join the girls already in their swimsuits on deck.

You walk onto the deck, scanning the area before your eyes land on Nami and Robin, who send a wave your way. "Oh wow! You're wearing a swimsuit?!" You heard Usopp call in amazement, not used to seeing you in anything that shows too much skin. "Yep! So, soak it all in, boys~" You tease your crewmates, who just laugh at you. With one more scan, you nod your head, noticing that your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Otherwise, you would have a problem on your hands. You plop down next to the girls with a heavy sigh as you lean back, taking in the sun's rays. "Oh my, did something happen, Y/n?" Robin asked, noticing the minor bruises on your thighs. Nami hummed as she sipped her drink, eyes following Robin's gaze.

"Oh yeah! These appear sometimes!" You laugh, waving off their concern as you look back at the bruises. As you girls talk, Usopp walks into the kitchen to grab water due to the day's heat. Everything was nice and peaceful, the air filled with a nice calm-" SHE WHAT?!?!" A sudden voice boomed throughout the ship, causing everyone to jump. The three of you turn your heads as the door to the kitchen flies open with a loud bang. Before anyone could even blink, Sanji is in front of you on his knee; a hand extended out towards you as your boyfriend looks up at you with giant hearts for eyes, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "OH MY DARLING Y/N, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE OUT?!?!" He cooed hearts surrounding him like no end.

You sat there staring at your romantic pervert of a boyfriend in awe before smiling, a laugh leaving your lips. "Sanji! Haha! You don't have to make it such a big deal!" You laughed, causing your boyfriend to gush as he did a small dance around you. "Y/n~ my darling~" He sang, going and wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. You hummed, leaning back into your boyfriend's touch as the girls smiled, shaking their heads. "He hasn't looked at Y/n yet, has he?" Nami mumbled while Robin giggled, lifting her book over her mouth. Sanji hummed, having completely forgotten why he ran out in such a panic as he went and looked down at you.

You watched as Sanji's face went from pure bliss to shocked silly as his eyes fell onto your exposed cleavage. Sanji's eyes practically bulged out of his head as they darted around your form, taking in every piece of exposed skin you were showing. Sanji's smile widened as blood started gushing from his nose, causing everyone to sigh as Chopper panicked and quickly got to work. You just laughed, shaking your head while enjoying the sun.

After about half an hour, Sanji shot up from the deck, a white cloth stained red from his blood sticking out from his nose. The cook's head quickly darts around, trying to find your form. "She went to the kitchen to get a drink," Robin whispered, not taking her eyes off the book she was reading. Sanji jumped up with a smile on his face as he went and placed a kiss on Robin's hand. "Thank you, my dear Robin~" Sanji sang, running towards the kitchen. Before opening the door, Sanji took a second to compose himself, getting ready to see your form again in that sexy swimsuit. A tiny bit of blood trickled from his nose just at the thought. With a few slaps to the face, Sanji took a deep breath before pushing the door open.

"Oh good, you're awake!" You cheered, sitting on one of the tables with a cup of water in your hand. Sanji stood in the doorway, frozen stiff as he took in your appearance. You were just too sexy sitting in his kitchen in such revealing fabric. Sanji took a deep breath before heading towards you with a giant smile as he extended his arms for a hug. "Y/n, my love~" He sang before wrapping his arms around you, pulling your exposed flesh closer to his body. Once your body's connected, you can feel Sanji aggressively shiver as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "You look so gorgeous, cupcake~ absolutely stunning~" He purred, his hands trailing over your body.

You laugh, a slight blush on your cheeks as you place the cup of water behind you before playing with your boyfriend's hair. "Sanji~ do you like me better like this or in my usual clothes?" You teased, already knowing what his answer was going to be. "No matter what you wear, mon chéri, I will love you until my heart stops beating~" He purred, kissing your neck. You giggle, moving slightly to make yourself more comfortable. However, this allowed Sanji to glimpse at your thighs, noticing the bruised skin. The atmosphere in the room instantly became tense, causing you to look down at the cook in confusion. "Sanji?" You watched as his body twitched.

"Who did it?" You tilt your head in confusion, barely hearing what your boyfriend whispered, not moving his head from your neck. "Come again?" You questioned innocence laced throughout your words. Sanji looked at you, eyes filled with anger as he clenched his jaw. Then, you noticed his firm grip on the table you sat on, causing you to grow concerned. "Who hurt you? Who dares to taint your precious skin, mon amour? I won't let them live another day!" He growled, rage-filled-eyed, locking with your shocked and innocent ones. You just stared at him briefly before smiling, your laugh soon echoing off the kitchen walls, catching the man by surprise. "Haha! Oh my, you made me scared for a second!" Your comment makes Sanji flinch, as he never wants to scare his precious girl. "I'm sorry, mon amour…" he looked down, feeling guilty for frightening you. You watched him for a moment before your body suddenly jumped. Sanji had placed his hand on your thigh, gently caressing the bruises with his rough thumb. You blushed at his sudden action, watching as his eyes became serious, focusing on nothing but the discolored skin.

You felt your body relax as you carefully cupped Sanji's cheek, causing him to hum as he instantly leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as a small smile blessed his face. "I'm okay, Sanji. I wake up with bruises sometimes; it's no big deal! I promise no one hurt me~" You laughed, giving him that bright smile he loved more than anything. Your words take a second for him to process before a giant smile crosses his face, his eyes lighting up. "Oh, I see! That used to happen to me when I was a kid!" He cheered, his tone utterly different from the one he had just moments ago. You smile gently, kissing his cheek, causing him to blush as he looks at you shyly. "Not fair." You giggle at him while he caresses your thigh, causing a bit of heat to rise within your body.

"S-sanji…you don't have to keep caressing my thigh." You whispered, feeling embarrassed as you tried to move back from him. However, he suddenly pins you to the table, causing you to let out a small gasp as you stare up at him in awe. He looks down at your eyes filled with lust and love as he gives a sly smirk. "mon amour…earlier when I asked you about the bruises, I felt your body tense in fear but also…" Sanji trails off as he leans next to your ear, gently nibbling on the skin, causing you to flinch as a small whimper leaves your lips. Sanji's warm breath hits the tender flesh, causing your heart to go wild as his other hand goes and pulls your lower half closer to Sanji.

“Pleasure am I correct mon amour?” His words caused you to shiver as Sanji chuckled, taking the unlit cigarette from his lips and trucking it behind his ear. "Did I make you excited Y/n~? Did you like me getting mad?" He teased you while slowly sliding down to your lower half. You blush heavily while quickly trying to get up. "S-sanji! Not here!" You hissed, checking the door to ensure no one walked in on the inappropriate scene from the other side. Sanji hummed, amused with your sudden shyness as he went and bit the inner part of your thigh, causing you to jump once more, this time a small moan escaping your lips. "You said these bruises appear when you're sleeping, right?" He mumbled, placing light kisses up and down your thigh, his eyes watching your every expression.

Sanji loved teasing his girlfriend; your expressions were just too cute and sexy for him to ignore. "How about I make sure to inspect your body every morning for any bruises that suddenly appear?" He purred, going and leaving a hickey on your soft flesh before rising back up and pulling you closer to him, your crotches pressed against one another as he smiled, cupping your cheeks, a deep blush coating his cheeks. "Sanji…" You whispered his name so sweet it caused him to shiver as he went and placed his thumb in your mouth while caressing your chin.

"Mon amour…. can I cover those filthy marks with my own loving ones?"

______________________________________________________________

A/n: AAAAAAAH I had fun making this one! I hope you all enjoy!

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Company that makes millions spying on students will get to sue a whistleblower

Yesterday, the Court of Appeal for British Columbia handed down a jaw-droppingly stupid and terrible decision, rejecting the whistleblower Ian Linkletter’s claim that he was engaged in legitimate criticism when he linked to freely available materials from the ed-tech surveillance company Proctorio:

https://www.bccourts.ca/jdb-txt/ca/23/01/2023BCCA0160.htm

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/20/links-arent-performances/#free-ian-linkletter

It’s been a minute since Linkletter’s case arose, so I’ll give you a little recap here. Proctorio is a massive, wildly profitable ed-tech company that sells a surveillance tool to monitor students while they take high-stakes tests from home. The tool monitors the student’s computer and the student’s face, especially their eye-movements. It also allows instructors and other personnel to watch the students and even take control of their computer. This is called “remote invigilation.”

This is ghastly in just about every way. For starters, Proctorio’s facial monitoring software embeds the usual racist problems with machine-learning stuff, and struggles to recognize Black and brown faces. Black children sitting exams under Proctorio’s gimlet eye have reported that the only way to satisfy Proctorio’s digital phrenology system is to work with multiple high-powered lights shining directly in their faces.

A Proctorio session typically begins with a student being forced to pan a webcam around their test-taking room. During lockdown, this meant that students who shared a room — for example, with a parent who worked night-shifts — would have to invade their family’s privacy, and might be disqualified because they couldn’t afford a place large enough to have private room in which to take their tests.

Proctorio’s tools also punish students for engaging in normal test-taking activity. Do you stare off into space when you’re trying through a problem? Bzzzt. Do you read questions aloud to yourself under your breath when you’re trying to understand their meanings? Bzzzt. Do you have IBS and need to go to the toilet? Bzzzt. The canon of remote invigilation horror stories is filled with accounts of students being forced to defecate themselves, or vomit down their shirts without turning their heads (because looking away is an automatically flagged offense).

The tragedy is that all of this is in service to the pedagogically bankrupt practice of high-stakes testing. Few pedagogists believe that the kind of exam that Proctorio seeks to recreate in students’ homes has real assessment merit. As the old saying goes, “Tests measure your ability to take tests.” But Proctorio doesn’t even measure your ability to take a test — it measures your ability to take a test with three bright lights shining directly on your face. Or while you are covered in your own feces and vomit. While you stare rigidly at a screen. While your tired mother who just worked 16 hours in a covid ward stands outside the door to your apartment.

The lockdown could have been an opportunity to improve educational assessment. There is a rich panoply of techniques that educators can adopt that deliver a far better picture of students’ learning, and work well for remote as well as in-person education. Instead, companies like Proctorio made vast fortunes, most of it from publicly funded institutions, by encouraging a worse-than-useless, discriminatory practice:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/24/proctor-ology/#miseducation

Proctorio clearly knows that its racket is brittle. Like any disaster profiteer, Proctorio will struggle to survive after the crisis passes and we awaken from our collective nightmare and ask ourselves why we were stampeded into using its terrible products. The company went to war against its critics.

In 2020, Proctorio CEO Mike Olsen doxed a child who complained about his company’s software in a Reddit forum:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/01/bossware/#moral-exemplar

In 2021, the reviews for Proctorio’s Chrome plugin all mysteriously vanished. Needless to say, these reviews — from students forced to use Proctorio’s spyware — were brutal:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/04/hypervigilance/#radical-transparency

Proctorio claims that it protects “educational integrity,” but its actions suggest a company far more concerned about the integrity of its own profits:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#cheating-anticheat

One of the critics that Proctorio attacked is Ian Linkletter. In 2020, Linkletter was a Learning Technology Specialist at UBC’s Faculty of Education. His job was to assess and support ed-tech tools, including Proctorio. In the course of that work, Linkletter reviewed Proctorio’s training material for educators, which are a bonanza of mask-off materials that are palpably contemptuous of students, who are presumed to be cheaters.

At the time, a debate over remote invigilation tools was raging through Canadian education circles, with students, teachers and parents fiercely arguing the merits and downsides of making surveillance the linchpin of assessment. Linkletter waded into this debate, tweeting a series of sharp criticisms of Proctorio. In these tweets, Linkletter linked to Proctorio’s unlisted, but publicly available, Youtube videos.

A note of explanation: Youtube videos can be flagged as “unlisted,” which means they don’t show up in searches. They can also be flagged as “private,” which means you have to be on a list of authorized users to see them. Proctorio made its training videos unlisted, but they weren’t private — they were visible to anyone who had a link to them.

Proctorio sued Linkletter for this. They argued that he had breached a duty of confidentiality, and that linking to these videos was a copyright violation:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/17/proctorio-v-linkletter/#proctorio

This is a classic SLAPP — a “strategic litigation against public participation.” That’s when a deep-pocketed, thin-skinned bully, like Proctorio, uses the threat of a long court battle to force their critics into silence. They know they can’t win their case, but that’s not the victory they’re seeking. They don’t want to win the case, they want to win the argument, by silencing a critic who would otherwise be bankrupted by legal fees.

Getting SLAPPed is no fun. I’ve been there. Just this year, a billionaire financier tried to force me into silence by threatening me with a lawsuit. Thankfully, Ken “Popehat” White was on the case, and he reminded this billionaire’s counsel that California has a strong anti-SLAPP law, and if Ken had to defend me in court, he could get a fortune in fees from the bully after he prevailed:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1531684572479377409

British Columbia also has an anti-SLAPP law, but unlike California’s anti-SLAPP, the law is relatively new and untested. Still, Proctorio’s suit against Linkletter was such an obvious SLAPP that for many of us, it seemed likely that Linkletter would be able to defend himself from this American bully and its attempt to use Canada’s courts to silence a Canadian educator.

For Linkletter to use BC’s anti-SLAPP law, he would have to prove that he was weighing in on a matter of public interest, and that Proctorio’s copyright and confidentiality claims were nonsense, unlikely to prevail on their merits. If he could do that, he’d be able to get the case thrown out, without having to go through a lengthy, brutally expensive trial.

Incredibly, though, the lower court found against Linkletter. Naturally, Linkletter appealed. His “factotum” is a crystal clear document that sets out the serious errors of law and fact the lower court made:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aB1ztWDFr3MU6BsAMt6rWXOiXJ8sT3MY/view

But yesterday, the Court of Appeal upheld the lower court, repeating all of these gross errors and finding for Proctorio:

https://www.bccourts.ca/jdb-txt/ca/23/01/2023BCCA0160.htm

This judgment is grotesque. It makes a mockery of BC’s anti-SLAPP statute, to say nothing of Canadian copyright and confidentiality law. For starters, it finds that publishing a link can be a “performance” of a copyrighted work, which meant that when Linkletter linked to the world-viewable Youtube files that Proctorio had posted, he infringed on copyright.

This is a perverse, even surreal take on copyright. The court rejects Linkletter’s argument that even Youtube’s terms of service warned Proctorio that publishing world-viewable material on its site constituted permission for people to link to and watch that material.

But what about “fair dealing” (similar to fair use)? Linkletter argued that linking to a video that shows that Proctorio’s assurances to parents and students about its products’ benign nature were contradicted by the way it talked to educators was fair dealing. Fair dealing is a broad suite of limitations and exceptions to copyright for the purposes of commentary, criticism, study, satire, etc.

So even if linking is a copyright infringement (ugh, seriously?!), surely it’s fair dealing in this case. Proctorio was selling millions of dollars in software to public institutions, inflicting it on kids whose parents weren’t getting the whole story. Linkletter used Proctorio’s own words to rebut its assurances. What could be more fair dealing than that?

Not so fast, the appeals panel says: they say that Linkletter could have made his case just as well without linking to Proctorio’s materials. This is…bad. I mean, it’s also wrong, but it’s very bad, too. It’s wrong because an argument about what a company intends necessarily has to draw upon the company’s own statements. It’s absurd to say that Linkletter’s point would have been made equally well if he said “I disbelieve Proctorio’s public assurances because I’ve seen seekrit documents” as it was when he was able to link to those documents so that people could see them for themselves.

But it’s bad because it rips the heart out of the fair dealing exception for criticism. Publishing a link to a copyrighted work is the most minimal way to quote from it in a debate — Linkletter literally didn’t reproduce a single word, not a single letter, from Proctorio’s copyrighted works. If the court says, “Sure, you can quote from a work to criticize it, but only so much as you need to make your argument,” and then says, “But also, simply referencing a work without quoting it at all is taking too much,” then what reasonable person would ever try to rely on a fair dealing exemption for criticism?

Then there’s the confidentiality claim: in his submissions to the lower court and the appeals court, Linkletter pointed out that the “confidential” materials he’d linked to were available in many places online, and could be easily located with a Google search. Proctorio had uploaded these “confidential” materials to many sites — without flagging them as “unlisted” or “private.”

What’s more, the videos that Linkletter linked to were in found a “Help Center” that didn’t even have a terms-of-service condition that required confidentiality. How on Earth can materials that are publicly available all over the web be “confidential?”

Here, the court takes yet another bizarre turn in logic. They find that because a member of the public would have to “gather” the videos from “many sources,” that the collection of links was confidential, even if none of the links in the collection were confidential. Again, this is both wrong and bad.

Every investigator, every journalist, every critic, starts by looking in different places for information that can be combined to paint a coherent picture of what’s going on. This is the heart of “open source intelligence,” combing different sources for data points that shed light on one another.

The idea that “gathering” public information can breach confidentiality strikes directly at all investigative activity. Every day, every newspaper and news broadcast in Canada engages in this conduct. The appeals court has put them all in jeopardy with this terrible finding.

Finally, there’s the question of Proctorio’s security. Proctorio argued that by publishing links to its educator materials, Linkletter weakened the security of its products. That is, they claim that if students know how the invigilation tool works, it stops working. This is the very definition of “security through obscurity,” and it’s a practice that every serious infosec professional rejects. If Proctorio is telling the truth when it says that describing how its products work makes them stop working, then they make bad products that no one should pay money for.

The court absolutely flubs this one, too, accepting the claim of security through obscurity at face value. That’s a finding that flies in the face of all security research.

So what happens now? Well, Linkletter has lost his SLAPP claim, so nominally the case can proceed. Linkletter could appeal his case to Canada’s Supreme Court (about 7% of Supreme Court appeals of BC appeals court judgments get heard). Or Proctorio could drop the case. Or it could go to a full trial, where these outlandish ideas about copyright, confidentiality and information security would get a thorough — and blisteringly expensive — examination.

In Linkletter’s statement, he remains defiant and unwilling to give in to bullying, but says he’ll have to “carefully consider” his next step. That’s fair enough: there’s a lot on the line here:

https://linkletter.opened.ca/stand-against-proctorios-slapp-update-30/

Linkletter answers his supporters’ questions about how they can help with some excellent advice: “What I ask is for you to do what you can to protect students. Academic surveillance technology companies would like nothing more but for us all to shut up. Don’t let them silence you. Don’t let anyone or anything take away your human right to freedom of expression.”

Today (Apr 21), I’m speaking in Chicago at the Stigler Center’s Antitrust and Competition Conference. This weekend (Apr 22/23), I’m at the LA Times Festival of Books.

[Image ID: A girl working on a laptop. Her mouth has been taped shut. Glaring out of the laptop screen is the hostile red eye of HAL9000 from '2001: A Space Odyssey.' Behind them is a tattered, filthy, burned Canadian flag.]

Image: Ingo Bernhardt https://www.flickr.com/photos/spree2010/4930763550/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Eleanor Vladinsky (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Canadian_flag_against_grey_sky.jpg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #security through obscurity #copyfight #education #cdnpoli #whistleblowers #pedagogy #canada #intimidation #corruption #slapp #ian linkletter #proctorio #censorship #remote invigilation

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astrologydayz · 11 months

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ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART2

VENUS/EROS IN PISCES/AT 12, 24° = Pisces degree points 2 someone being sexually attracted 2 "lost souls", they want someone who's willing 2 let them be their saviour✨. They could also hold deep thoughts about being saved by a lover themselves, and the idea of "escaping" 2 their "happily ever after". Sex them up with how artistic/poetic u can be. That shit always works. They need someone who's willing 2 show them a kind heart, while also fulfilling their deepest desires/sexual urges.

VENUS/EROS IN SCORPIO/AT 8, 20° = Scorpio degree points 2 someone wanting a lover that's more sexually charged in private, and someone who's willing 2 give up their "thought patterns", as they can be a little "obsessive" with wanting to know everything, or them investigating when they feel the other persons sexual attraction "dying down a little bit"🧯🔥. These people can easily find your weak spots, so they won't disappoint. They need someone who's willing2 give them their soul, as they do the same💀😍.

VENUS/EROS IN LEO/AT 5, 17, 29° = Leo degree points 2 wanting 2 be praised all the time, and a need 2 praise, if the other person does good🐕. They want someone who worships them, puts them on a pedestal👑. They need someone who knows that they're not 2nd place, but always 1st place. They put passion, & sexual attraction/admiration at the top of the list, of things they NEED, 2want to get sexual with somebody. They need platonic, romantic, &sexual flirting from people all around, 2 get that "confidence in", people telling them how fine they look/how sexy they are🌟🌟.

Moira asteroid (638) conjunct 5th house can show fated romances/affairs throughout life, or with one special person💜.

A MAN’S Venus in Leo/1st house is mostly all about themselves in bed, they want 2 get off first and then maybe, if you're lucky, they'll finish u off2. No hate, I just don't fuck with it 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨.

Black Moon Lilith conjunct Vertex in a MAN’S chart shows that he's meant 2 have fated experiences, that puts him out of the "conventional". Like him dating/seeing younger women&getting shit4it, or him being "thrown" into situations where he has 2 "defend himself", because of the women he's in a sexual relationship/romantic relationship with🙄. These fated connections/experiences is what turns him into who he's supposed 2 be - someone who doesn't give a fuck about anyone else's opinion - BML energy🖕🖕💜.

Medusa asteroid (149) conjunct ASC in a WOMAN’S chart will make herself look "tempting", or "available" in front of a man, but as soon as he looks or tries 2 hit on her, she'll degrade him. "U disgusting man, or "u pig"!! "I didn't look at u, or made any attempt 2 flirt with u, whatsoever"😂.

A MAN WITH Venus, Mars and Saturn in Capricorn = Ultimate dom. They'll make you scream their name over, and over again, & won't stop until he made you cum multiple times. He's REALLY sexually experienced, when he reach his older years, like from 30&up.

Lust asteroid : 4386 conjunct Jupiter = crazy sexual needs. Even if they've had crazy sex all night = they can go again the next day, all day😵‍💫😲🤣🤣 Mars in Virgo/8th house in Virgo in a MAN'S chart typically finds "younger people" 2 be way more sexual attractive, than people at their own age. They're attracted 2 the feeling of "feeling young", while being with a young woman/man❤️. They want someone they can have an insane sexual attraction2, while also being able 2 "teach" the other person a lot in the sexual department. Them wanting young/inexperienced women.

Neptune conjunct Black moon Lilith can make you so damn ethereal. Especially if you got Mars or Venus aspecting it 2. people want 2 rip your clothes off but r afraid 2 even say hi 2 u😭😭😭. Afraid you'll reject/embarrass them.

💜💜💜💜 Look at aspects from Venus (the planet of love&attraction), & Mars (the planet of sex), 2c what u like, & what u need sexually💋.

👅👅👅 Mars in Gemini changes their mind a lot when it comes 2 sex. One day they like 2 dominate, & the next they like 2 be submissive. It really comes down to how they feel on that particular day. &it makes sense. Mars (planet of sex&) in Gemini - Duality. A MAN’S Venus/Mars in Leo wants praises from u. They want 2 hear how good they are, and amazing they are in bed. If u don't, they can get bored of u, and seek somebody else - get their "needs" taken care of by another person👀 👀.

If your 8th house ruler is in your 8th house = sex can be so transformative for u but you'll probably only hookup with a few people throughout your life tho. Only having sex with people you feel a deep soul connection with.

🍆🍆 A MAN'S Mars/Venus/in 11th house in Aquarius is FREAKYYYYY, they'll try anything with their partner. MOSTLY ON VIDEO/cam🙃🙃🙃 PERIOD.

A WOMAN'S Venus in Pisces/8th/12th house is the "I'll do anything I can 2 satisfy your needs, before my own". I love these placements, they want their partner 2 feel all the pleasure and doesn't even think about their own.

Taurus Mercury/Mars LOVES 2 be neck kissed, damn. Just go wild there and they'll go crazy 4 u, I promise 👄👅. MEN with Mars in Taurus/Taurus in 8th house = attracted 2 women that always looks "beautiful", "sexy, but classy", "ocd around looks", "model looking". They want a gorgeous woman, that can "cater" 2 their most sensual needs 🫦💦. Find some whipped cream/ice cream + your tongue&his body = go loca. If he doesn't go crazy, (u probably have the wrong chart😂🤡). Webb asteroid (3041) conjunct/trine/sextile/quintile BML can indicate doing "Web porn", "only fans", "showing yourself off, in a "sexual, provocative way online"🧯💨🔥.

Mars/Venus in Gemini/3rd house loves using toys! But they especially love2 use their hands&fingers!! They can also love oral👅.

REPOST OF SOME OF MY POSTS FROM MY OLD BLOG/SOME NEW COMMENTS

THANKS4READING💘 Appreciate u, always!

#astro community #astro notes #astrology #black moon lilith #astro observations #astrology notes #asteroids #venus #birth chart #mars astrology

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suiana · 1 year

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yandere hero x gn reader x yandere villain

"I love you."

"More than this country?"

"...I'm sorry."

You had expected this. Really. I mean, it would only be right for one person to die if it meant the lives of everyone else! Thus it would only make sense for a hero to sacrifice that one person, even if it was his lover. He couldn't be selfish, no. He had to place priority on everyone else. After all, that was the way of the hero.

Besides, there was a saying that a hero would sacrifice you for the rest of the world. You should've known better.

Yet you couldn't help but wish he would forget about his title of a hero just for a second.

You know how much being a hero was to him, you really do! Why else would you patiently wait for him to come home everyday to patch up his wounds? Why would you encourage him whenever he felt like a shitty hero? Why would you do what you did if you didn't understand? You loved him wholeheartedly, even if he didn't reciprocate it much.

However, it felt like you had made a mistake by choosing him as your lover. You should've left him when you had the chance. Caring more about the lives of civilians, he had stood you up on multiple occasions just for the sake of justice. You get it, you do! He's a hero, he's meant to help others. You can't be selfish and get mad at him when he's doing his job and not wasting time on a date with you! You tried to be accomodating. Tried to be understanding.

But he was still your lover.

He should've at least tried to make an effort. Not everything was meant to be about saving others when your relationship was on the verge of breaking. Yet you had never once gotten mad at him for his lack of attention and love, for you loved him with all your heart.

You tried to be delusional, that he would at least treasure you enough to not give you away to anyone else. If he didn't spend much time with you, so what? At least he wouldn't give you away! I mean, he did say that he would never allow anyone else to have you. He would at least honour that promise, right?

Wrong. He gave you up only after a minute of pondering. Oh... Your poor heart. Your poor, poor heart... You couldn't fathom what he had did, not in the slightest. Maybe it was a mistake? A slip of his tongue? You looked at him for comfort only to realise that he had meant what he had said. His guilty and crestfallen look was more than enough to tell you he had truly meant it. That he meant to gave you away.

You were absolutely heartbroken, devastated at the revelation. Clawing at his chest, screaming at him to take back his words, yet to no avail as he avoided your gaze. You felt more than betrayed by him.

You tried to understand his thoughts, his point of view. It was a rational decision. The world known villain had just threatened to blow up the country if he didn't hand his lover over. It was the right decision. But you just wished he had done anything to fight against the villain's demand. He was a hero after all and you were a civilian! He was supposed to protect you!

So why did he give you up so easily?

That, you could not understand. So all you could do was beg for him to reconsider. To hear him tell you that it was just a joke and that he would beat up the villain. Just like what he used to do. But nothing came from him. Only the quiet silence of someone who had already made up their mind.

"Well I guess I'll be taking you now darling~"

The villain suddenly chimed in as he tried to pull you away from the hero. His cold fingers gently tracing your bare shoulders sent shivers up your spine. You shook your head, still clinging onto your beloved hero's shirt as you wept and screamed at him to do something.

But nothing came.

"Please-?! Don't give me away! Don't you love me?!"

"I do... I really do love you."

"Then why are you giving me away so easily?! Is... Is this country more important than me?!"

No response.

You wept harder as you hit his chest, screaming at him to try and protect you against the villain who was amused at the sight before him. He retracted his cold hands from your shoulders, instead putting them in his pants pockets as he hummed softly.

"I'm sorry."

Your breath hitched as your lover softly pried your hands off his shirt. His shaky hands gently holding yours as his lower lip trembled. You could only stare in shock and hurt as he slowly handed you over, looking up at the villain in shame.

You wanted to laugh, you really did. But all you could muster was soft weeping as the villain gently cradled you in his embrace. You wanted to push him away, to curse at him and run back to the arms of your lover. But was it all worth it? The hero had already showed no intention of resisting the villain's demand.

You stared up at the villain with teary eyes, flinching at his touch as he stroked your face tenderly. Yet you couldn't help but lean into his oddly comforting touch that soothed you.

"What a shitty lover he is. Hah! Don't worry baby, I'll never do something like that to you~"

He cooed, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. This... You had never seen such a look from the hero. Even when he claimed to love you, that you were the only person in his heart.

Your heart skipped a beat, face turning slightly red as the villain them scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

This was nice... It made you feel wanted, feel loved. Something that the hero you loved could never give you. Maybe you should just give in already. At least you knew he would never give you up.

For there was a saying that a villain would sacrifice the world for you.

part 2

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting #yandere hero #yandere villain

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mellowsaturns · 1 year

Text

in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER

summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action

wc: 4.7k

a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.

And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.

Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.

On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.

Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.

“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”

He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.

One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.

You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.

With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”

The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.

“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.

But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.

Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”

Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.

On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.

Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.

Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”

Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”

After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.

The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.

Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.

But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.

Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.

Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.

How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.

Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.

During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.

Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.

You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”

He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.

His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”

When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.

“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”

“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”

He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.

He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”

You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”

“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”

He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.

“Let me talk to her. Please.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”

“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.

And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.

You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”

Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”

My darling.

For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.

The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.

You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”

Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.

There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.

You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.

“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”

He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.

“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”

Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.

“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”

“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”

In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.

You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.

He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.

Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.

They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.

During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.

And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.

Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.

He misses you. So damn much.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.

“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”

“I’m sorry I left you with them.”

You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.

He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”

The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.

He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.

A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.

The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.

You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.

“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.

Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.

Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”

“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”

You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.

Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.

You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.

But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.

“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.

Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.

“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”

He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”

You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”

“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”

Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.

“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”

He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.

He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.

When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”

You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.

“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”

Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.

Those were your trigger words.

“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.

Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.

Blue.

You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.

At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.

“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”

He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”

You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”

Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.

“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”

And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.

You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”

Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.

He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.

Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.

“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.

Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.

He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”

Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.

“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.

There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.

You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.

But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.

He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.

The blond raises his arms up in surrender.

“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.

“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.

Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”

You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.

Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.

A new beginning awaits.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky barnes

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misserabella · 9 months

Text

consume

vampire! reader x human! ellie williams

“ and you can take my flesh if you want girl, but baby don’t abuse it. these voices in my head screaming run now, i’m praying that they’re human. ”

synopsis; heartbroken, for having lost the love of her life, in one of her multiple sleepless nights, the danger creeps through her open window, hungry, famished for blood… a danger with your face.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!! angst (with happy ending), blood, breeding kink, praise kink, praising, dirty talking, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (e! receiving), fingering (f receiving), tribbing, cum eating, dirty talking, dry humping, teasing, overstimulation, blood kink, blood drinking, biting…

That night was like any other. Ellie laying there in absolute darkness and silence, staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep to no avail. She had been crying all day. Like the last 6 days. Unable to stop thinking about you, her girlfriend, who had disappeared almost a week ago with no trace behind. It had all been her fault. If only she had given you a lift that night after the cinema… If only she had insisted when you said you wanted to take a walk back to the apartment… Maybe you would be safe now. Maybe you would be knocking at her door, sleeping beside her… She would be hugging you, kissing you, saying i love you to you in the mornings…

But suddenly, she heard something bumping through the night at the salon of her apartment. Her eyes widened as every single muscle of her body froze in place, expecting, awaiting for the sound to fill the space once again so she could be sure that it was real and not just another trick of her tired mind. Her breathing was quiet, so quiet she may have even stopped breathing at all.

She jumped out of bed when she heard more bumping and crashing down the hall, all six senses on alert and ready to fight. ‘2:45’ her clock read. Someone was inside her apartment, someone who wasn’t supposed to be inside.

“Shit.” she muttered, eyes quickly looking for something to defend herself. Her mind was working on full speed, ‘till her switchblade came to it. Her hands were shaking when she took it in between her fingers, steps silent and careful as she walked towards her door, swinging it open as she heard ruffling from the kitchen.

As she grew closer to it, the refrigerator’s light filled the room and allowed her to see the window she had left just the slightest open, so the apartment wouldn’t get too hot, completely open, the curtains dancing with the wind that came through and inside.

Carefully, she neared the end and corner of the hallway, peeking just the slightest just to see someone rumbling through her fridge, tossing things out of it, breaking glass jars and containers in the process all around the floor. Ellie almost cursed. She couldn’t really see the person, head fully inside the fridge, only a pair of really dirty and torn shorts with messy shoes on sight. Nice, probably a fucking drug addict or psycho. And the phone was just beside the door, across the goddamn kitchen. She would be seen before she could get to it.

She would have to take care of it on her own.

She slowly approached the intruder, knife in hand and silent steps, though her heart jumped on her chest when the person rumbling through her bridge suddenly stopped, froze on the spot. Ellie’s eyes widened, she was feet away from them. There was no possible way she had been heard, right?

Oh but she had…

Her breath hitched when the intruder took a grip on the fridge’s door. Fingers curling, sharp and blood stained nails screeching on the metal.

“Oh shit.” she said, quickly turning around towards the door to run. Run as faster as she could. ‘Cause she knew that whatever it was that was inside her apartment wasn’t human. Not anymore.

However, she couldn’t reach the exit, faster that the human eye, the intruder blocking her way before she could even take a single step.

She stumbled backwards, tripping over a carpet and falling to the floor, knife scattering away from her grip and reach. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” she cursed, her heart hammering against her ribs when the creature stepped closer, her trying to get away, talons digging in the rug. Soon enough, she found herself cornered against the kitchen’s little aisle. She screamed when it lounged itself towards her, straddling her lap, face incredibly close to hers. The light from outside doors made it imposible to figure out its face. Her eyes widened when one of its hands rose towards her face, sharp nails inching closer to her skin. She knew she had to move, now.

In a quick movement, she got herself on top of the intruder this time, one of her hands gripping its wrists to keep it from scaping or moving.

All the words died in her throat when her eyes found those which she had stared into with so much love years on end. Those same eyes that stared up at her in complete silence, fear, embarrassment... “y/n?” she inquired, voice just above a whisper, strangled, hurt…

You looked away before she could look too closely, eyes shut and teary, though it didn’t work since her warm touch tried to cup your cheek, your hands quickly darting to push her away “Don’t touch me!” and —faster than she could follow— crashing against the furthest wall. Your voice was hoarse, terrified… Ellie just stared at you, shock crushing her veins as tears down her cheeks.

It was you.

You clothes were a mess, all bloody and torn on the places you’ve been attacked, hair locks sticking together due to the pool of blood your body had rested on your last moments, skin paler than the moon and colder than pure ice and your eyes… Those eyes that she so adored… Were the color of the purest vermillion she had ever seen. But it was you.

She tried and step closer to you, try to ask where had you been. What had happened. But you rose one of your hands to keep her from doing so, stopping her on her tracks. “Don’t.”

“y/n, baby, please…” she tried.

“Please don’t.” you begged her, voice breaking in sobs. “I’m a monster…” you said, hiding your face, your arms surrounding your body, as if you could hide yourself from her eyes.

She should be confused, and she was, but the fact that you were there, alive, that you were there, back at her, the fact that she could see you one more time, hear your voice… Healed her broken heart, made all that sadness inside of her, choking her, disappear.

Her hands reached for her abandoned phone on the aisle, sending a ‘code red’ message to the group she shared with you and her best friends before putting it back down. Emergency. Making counts, they’d be there in less than 20 min with Dina’s car.

You flinched when she took a step closer, hands raising to your ears. “Stop.” you muttered, but she took yet another step. You could hear everything, from the energy buzzing on the refrigerator, to the flapping of bats’ wings outside the window, the walking of little insects on the gravel, the sound of her tears rolling down her cheeks, her shaky breathing, her quickened heartbeat, the rushing of her blood, the pulse on her neck…

You pushed yourself even harder against the wall, as if you could melt with it, scape.

“y/n, please… Look at me…” she pleaded, she was now just inches away from you. “Please baby…, look at me.”

“Stay away!” you screamed, eyes fully open, red showing against the white. It was then when she saw them; the fangs. White, sharp, deadly fangs that shone under the moonlight, threatening, trying to scare her away. You quickly turned your face away, hiding it.

She knew she should be terrified, all those voices in her head screaming ‘run now’, but she only could think about how beautiful you were.

Your hands pushed against her chest when her hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing your cheek bone, her warmth contrasting against the coldness of your skin and making you shiver.

“Don’t look at me, I’m horrible…” you cried, having nowhere to run when she fully cupped your face, making you stare right at her.

“You’re beautiful.” she muttered, shaking her head, her face so close you could count her beautiful and curly eyelashes. “So fucking beautiful…” you watched her lean in, no fear in her eyes as she stared at your chapped lips.

She needed to kiss you. Needed to make sure that this wasn’t just another one of her dreams, that you were there, back into her arms. That you were still hers, just as she was yours.

Sadly, the sound of car tires against the asphalt brought you two back to the present, and then, knocking in the door. Multiple of them. Dina and Jesse.

“Ellie!!!” Dina called out for her, all the sudden noise making you get startled when Jesse started to scream too. If she didn’t open up soon they’d woke up the neighbors.

“Don’t move.” she said, and with a chaste kiss on your forehead she stepped away. You found yourself missing her touch, her warmth, her smell… But also felt relief. Relief that she wasn’t just mere inches away from you. ‘Cause the only thing you could focus on was in the way the blood in her veins called out for you. Lured you in. Your throat itched, something deep within you begging for just a little taste. You didn’t understand what was going on. The heightened senses, the sensibility, the incredible new speed and strength…

The last thing you could remember was pain. So much pain… And blood, of yourself full aware of your imminent death. Next thing you know? You had woken up in the woods near your town, alone. You didn’t know for how long you’d been asleep, but it felt like ages.

Finally, you’ve crawled your way back into town and somehow found Ellie’s apartment. You didn’t know what had happened. Had you died? Why were you alive? The only thing you knew was that there was something wrong with you. It only took you a glance to yourself on one of her windows to see that.

“What is it?!? What’s wrong!?” Dina inquired as she quickly stepped inside the apartment, bat on hand and ready to swing.

“Guys-“

“Where is the motherfucker? I’ll take care of it.” Jesse said, stepping up with a gun in hand.

“There is no intruder.” Ellie tried to calm them down.

And you could see their bodies relaxing a little bit, muscles not as stiff anymore. Relief.

“Then what is it?” Dina asked, but before the auburn head could answer, you had stepped out of the shadows.

“It’s me.” They got startled by the sudden intrusion in their conversation, ready to fight once again, but when the light that seeped in through the open door of her apartment made you visible, their weapons dropped.

“y—y/n?” they were in shock, frozen in space. In time. Were you real or were they all having a collective hallucination?

You looked at them and gave them a weak smile, insecure, afraid. And that was when they realized that you were indeed real. That it was you.

“Oh my god.” Dina sobbed, covering her mouth with her hands.

They were quick to try and approach you, but Ellie was quicker to step in between to stop them as you staggered backwards.

“Woah, easy.” she rose her hands, eyebrows quirked in a warning. You hid behind her, feeling overwhelmed. They stared at her in confusion. “We need to talk.”

“…”

“What the hell?!” Jesse inquired, in shock.

“So… You don’t remember anything?” Dina inquired, as shocked as her boyfriend, who faced you as you sat on Ellie’s couch.

“Nothing.” you nodded, eyes squinting at the light above your head. Head throbbing. You could hear it buzzing. “I just… Suddenly there was a lot of pain. And blood everywhere. And then nothing.”

“Shouldn’t we… Get her to a hospital or something?” Jesse spoke up, winning a ‘really?’ gaze from the girls. “Okay! I’m sorry!” he rose his hands. “Not every day someone dies and comes back from the dead, you know?” he mumbles, barely a whisper.

“Maybe…” Dina started, and everyone looked at her with expecting eyes, as if she had finally might found an answer to whatever is going on. “Maybe not.” she backed up and they sighed.

Your eyes quickly darted to the window when you caught the sound of crickets, they were like sirens ringing right beside you. You tugged your legs closer to your chest, teeth bitting down on your nails.

“And now she has this…, super powers.” Jesse squinted, and Ellie nodded. “Like Superman?” he inquired.

“No. Or yes? I don’t know!” your girlfriend sighed, obviously stressed and overwhelmed by the situation. The conversation only heated up even more after that.

“You don’t know?!”

“No.”

“How come you don’t know?!”

But you weren’t truly listening. Too focused on everything you could catch. The sound of all their breathings, the sound of a couple of fighting cats in the distance, the wind whistling thought the trees branches, your own blood painfully pumping through your dried veins…

“Too much.” you mumbled.

“Dude. I’m telling you. I know about music, not supernatural shit.”

“Guys…” Dina tried and stopped them from fighting.

“But you found her!” Jesse ignored her.

The intensity of the light below you, the feeling of your skin glued to your muscles, the tickling of your hair…

“Too much.” you repeated, teeth breaking the skin of your fingers.

“She was the one that found me!!”

“Jesse, stop.” Dina said, and then everyone was talking over everybody.

You could see the pulse on their neck, their veins pressing against their skin. So vulnerable… So easy… You could almost taste it on your tongue. It’s sweetness, it’s thick and warm consistence sliding down your throat.

“Stop!!!!” your scream almost ripped your throat, so loud you swore you had woken up the whole neighborhood.

They all backed up a little when your red eyes met theirs and your fangs showed up. Dina and Jesse couldn’t help the way their hands twitched with the need to raise their weapons.

You covered your ears when the sound of their quickened hearts pushing against their ribcages got louder, groaning.

“Fuck.” you whimpered, hiding your face. “I’m sorry.” you cried out, voice strained. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to…” and just as Ellie was about to step closer you stoped her. “No. Please don’t.” you curled on yourself, pressing your hands against your face, sobbing. “I’m so hungry.” you cried, suddenly, and if you weren’t that serious about it, you would have laughed about the stupidness of your words. But you felt like dying.

Every goddamn cell on your body burned, begged… Something deep inside you aching to bite, tear… Teeth hurting, fangs growing. You stood up, and in a blink of an eye you were back on her fridge. They seemed surprised, cause you were quicker that the light itself.

Glass broke under your shoes as you searched inside for something that you could eat. Anything. That’s when you smelled it. That sweet metallic smell. Your shaky hands threw everything aside, mouth watering at the sight of a full raw and big steak. Meat. Fresh and bloody cow steak.

Stumbling against the kitchen aisle, you tore down the plastic that enveloped it, nails digging on the softness of it. You couldn’t even think. Hand quick to tear the meat to pieces and push it inside your mouth. You looked like a predator, blood dripping down your lips and chin, down to your chest and onto your torn tee. You hummed, eyes bloodshot and bluish veins growing under your eyes as you fed on it. You sighed, throwing your head backwards, feeling relief yet still not getting rid of that aching deep inside your bones.

When your eyes met your friends’, they were wide open, speechless. They were frozen in place, feet glued to the floor as they watched droplets of blood soak the aisle.

It was then, when you realized what you had done.

And the only thing that you could mutter was a “What’s happening to me?”

You were completely silent, sat inside a bathtub full of warm water, Ellie gently washing your hair for you, her own on a low bun as she concentrated on taking every last bit of blood and dirt out of your locks and body.

It was around 4AM. Dina and Jesse had gone home, promising to come back in a few hours after getting some sleep to start thinking about an explanation and a plan to explain your survival and new life style.

“I can…” you tried to say, but she hushed you, gently washing off the shampoo on your hair and the blood on it. You felt relaxed. You should be feeling overwhelmed, since you could smell Ellie everywhere, but just by having her by your side you felt… Safe. Better. Although scared… Better.

“Let me.” she soothed you, giving you a soft smile. You shivered when her fingertips brushed your hair away, head lolling to the side and onto your shoulder. Your skin burned where her warm touch resided. “You alright?” she asked, pouring more water onto your back to wash away the soap from your body.

You hummed, silently allowing her to take care of you through the whole process of washing you clean and rolling you up on a towel to keep you warm as she drained all the dirty water before drying you up.

Her eyes never left your face as she did so, even though you were completely naked in front of her, she only focused on you, on dressing you up on the comfiest clothes she could find on her closet and combing your hair. You swore you had fallen in love yet once again.

You caught her attention when your hands gripped softly her shoulders, her eyes leaving your hair to find yours. “What is it, baby?” she inquired, and you felt tears pooling on your eyes, ‘cause she treated you like always, like she did before you died, before you turned into this… Monster.

You didn’t say anything, you didn’t have to, it was all in your eyes. You felt like melting against her when she got rid of the comb on her hand to hug you closer to her by your waist. You gasped, cause just the simple feeling of her hands was so intense… Her breath against your lips, her hands, her body pressed tightly against you… That you had to pull away before she could kiss you.

“Sorry.” you muttered against her chest, fisting the fabric of her soft tee. She only smiled, shaking her head.

“Let’s go to bed, hm? You need to sleep.” she pressed a little kiss on your forehead before taking your hand and guiding you towards your room.

She tucked you in but didn’t get inside the bed. “You aren’t staying?” you rose to your elbows as she walked to the door.

“I thought…” her mouth opened and closed before continuing, unsure. “I thought about leaving you the bed for tonight so you can-“

“I don’t wanna be alone.” you cut her off, surprising her. “I…“ and before you could continue, she was already by your side. Holding you close. Holding you as if she’d fall apart if she let you go. As of you’d disappear if she let go of you.

You shook in her arms and she was about to pull away, but you hugged her back, trying to not let the overwhelming feeling of her being so close to you prevent you from finally being back into her arms.

“Is this okay?” she muttered softly on your ear, hearing your shaky breathing. You were burning, her warm body tightly pressed against your freezing one, skin tingling where her fingers rested.

You didn’t know how much time you stayed like that. Minutes turned into hours, and soon enough, she had fallen asleep. She was finally sleeping, for the first time in days. And you? You couldn’t even close your eyes.

Whatever you did, all you could see, smell and feel was Ellie. She was making your senses collapse, getting you high as if she were some kind of drug you craved with every fiber of your being.

You could hear her steady and slow heartbeat, feel her soft breathing against your neck, making your skin grow in goosebumps. Your lips mere inches from hers. Against the pulsing vein that called your name with every thump of her heart. Suddenly, that aching deep within you that had subsided after your ‘meal’, came back, making your throat grow dry and mouth water. You only needed to lean just a little bit closer, erase the few inches that separated your lips from her neck and…

In a quick movement you were out of the bed and far away from her, hands covering your mouth as you felt that incredible hunger threatening you to break your bones.

You grunted as you staggered away from the room and outside the apartment, the freezing air of the night hitting your already dead cold skin, yet you couldn’t feel it.

“What’s wrong with me?” you muttered in between sobs. “Why… Why me?” you broke down, unable to stop your crying.

This wasn’t supposed to go this way. You were supposed to rest knowing that you had loved, loved so hard you couldn’t breathe. That you died knowing what true love was. You weren’t supposed to come back, you weren’t supposed to be turned into this… Thing. This monster that scared your friends, a monster that can only think about her girlfriend’s blood on its lips.

Your eyes squinted when a sudden beam of sunlight hit your face. Sunrise. It hurt your eyes, really badly, so you forcefully had to wipe your tears and get back inside, where Ellie was already waiting for you, fully awake. You almost cursed.

“Hey…” she whispered, getting closer to you. “Where did you go? I woke up and you weren’t there anymore.” she was soft, concerned. And it only made you feel worse. Sicker.

“I just went outside for a little. Needed some air.” you gave her a weak smile, eyes resting on the hand that stroke your arm, on the veins on her wrists.

You suddenly felt dizzy. So dizzy you almost fell if it weren’t for the auburn haired, who caught you on time.

“Woah woah, you okay baby?” she inquired, and you nodded.

“Yeah, sorry.” you lied. “I just felt dizzy all of a sudden.”

“Here, sit down.” she helped you get to the couch, never letting go of you. “Jesse and Dina will be here soon, I just got a call from them.” she said, pulling a blanket on top of you. “We’ll make you feel better soon, alright? I promise. We’ll fix this.” she kissed your forehead, the feeling of her lips lingering on your skin, burning. You almost begged for more.

But you knew you couldn’t have more, ‘cause it would never be enough.

You knew you couldn’t have enough. You couldn’t ‘cause you knew it’d consume you.

“We’ve got it! We’ve got it!” you whined when Jesse came rushing inside through the apartments door with a loud bang. “Sorry.” he awkwardly apologized when he saw you holding your head in between your hands.

“What is it that you’ve got?” Ellie asked, munching on cereals. Their crunching only made your headache worse. Whatever you did, it only seemed to get worse by the second. It wouldn’t got away. Like your growing hunger.

“We know what’s wrong with her.” Dina explained.

That made Ellie push everything aside to pay attention and concentrate on what mattered the most: You.

“You know?” you too focused on the group, hope in your red eyes.

“She’s a vampire!” Jesse exclaimed.

“Vampire?” you scoffed. “So you’re saying that I’m a vampire?” you let out a laughter, awaiting for all of them to tag along, but when they didn’t, you slowly fell silent, frowning as you noticed. “I’m a vampire.”

“You’re a vampire.” they all nodded, and you fell backwards onto the couch, a sigh leaving your lips, your mind a mess.

That explains everything.

“And what does this mean? Will I get to live forever? Am I allergic to garlic and holy water now? Will I die if I stay underneath the sun for too long?” you inquired, swallowing harshly. “Will I… Will I need to drink blood for the rest of my life?”

They were all silent for a second.

“Do you feel the need to drink it now?” Dina inquired, taking a seat beside you.

They all awaited expectantly for your answer, which only made you nervously smile. “I guess this isn’t the best moment to say how good all of you smell, right?” you joked, although it didn’t really seem to get them. “Yeah, sorry.” you muttered, curling yourself in the blanket.

“So…, what do we do now? ‘Cause she surely doesn’t look really good and It’s not like we can get blood anywhere, right?” Jesse inquired, and once again there were a couple of seconds of silence.

“She could drink from me.” Ellie suddenly said, and the whole group looked at her with a surprised face and widened eyes, even you.

“No.” you quickly blurted out before any of them could add anything.

“But y/n…” Dina tried and talk you down, but you were quick to turn her down.

“No.” you repeated, harshly this time. “I’m not gonna drink from Ellie nor any of you.” your fangs showed as you stood up, tossing away the blanket and stepping away and towards Ellie’s room. “I’d rather die of thirst first.” and with that, you closed the door.

“y/n, baby, please…” she pleaded. You had heard her talking with the group just a few minutes earlier, they had been coming every morning to ask for and about you. Each day that went by more and more concerned.

It had been almost a week since your last encounter and since you had grounded yourself in her room under the promise that you’d rather die than drink from them. They had even snuck into the hospital and somehow stolen a blood bag and brought it to you, but you yet turned it down, unable to —even though your hunger was tearing you apart—, drink it up. ‘Cause you knew that if you did, whatever that this curse was would be real. You’ve done your research, —well, the group had and you’ve heard— and you knew that you only had a few days to drink human blood to complete the transition and become a full vampire or else you’d die.

You hadn’t left her room since then, —unless you had to make a short trip to the bathroom—, burying yourself in between her sheets, ignoring her every time she tried to make you change your mind.

You were dead. And you’d be in just a couple of days. That’s how it had to be. The natural course of things. Ellie didn’t deserve to be stuck with a leech for the rest of her life —‘cause you knew that she loved you enough to do so if you didn’t walk away—, she deserved someone who was still alive, someone warm, someone who didn’t need to consume human blood to survive and that will live forever. Someone who she could take out without having to hide or be scared to be discovered due to a slip.

She deserved the best she could get. And that wasn’t you. That would never be you anymore.

So you’d wither. You’d sleep. And when the time came, you’d turn back to the dust that you came from.

“Please, look at me.” your heart broke every time she would face you, kneeled on the floor, on her knees and begging for you to just stare at her. But you couldn’t, ‘cause you knew that if you did, if you looked into those beautiful green eyes of hers, you’d give in. You’d listen. You’d let her convince you to drink her blood and live.

And you couldn’t do that to her.

“Baby…” he was desperate. Tears prickling her eyes as she caressed your hair, your hollowed cheeks and prominent cheekbones, warm fingertips against your cold stone skin, which slowly turned into ice. You looked like a living corpse, with thinning hair and the palest skin, which started to show your bones due to starvation.

You could smell the blood on her veins, your stomach turning on itself, urging you to bite down on her wrist and suck. You squeezed your eyes shut as your tongue dampened your chapped grayish lips, fighting off the urge to feed on her, to sink your teeth on her neck, but she saw it, how those little veins below your eyed appeared and your fangs pushed against your bottom lip. She felt like dying along with you with every day that passed by.

“Please, don’t do this to me…” she muttered, unable to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. “Don’t let me lose you again.” she pleaded.

And you couldn’t help to look at her when your ears took in the sound of the droplets falling onto the floor.

And just like every time she looked at you, she took your breath away. You hated it, hated the way she would make you weak on the knees even on this situation, make you want to make up your mind, convince yourself that everything would be fine and that it was right to live beside her.

“Don’t leave me.” she sobbed, making you feel like you’d fall apart right and there. “I need you. I can’t sleep if you are not there for me to hold. I can’t breath of you’re not around. I can’t think, I can’t function if you’re not there.” your cold hand cupped her cheek, making her take a shaky and hurtful breath as you tried and wipe away her tears. “I can’t live without you.”

“You can’t live with me now either.” you whispered, your voice breaking due to the amount of days you’ve stood silent and the dryness of your throat. She shook her head, trying to talk, but you went ahead and cut her off. “I can’t be with you. Not like this. I’m dead Ellie… I’m a monster. I’ll never age with you. If we ever wanted to, we wouldn’t be able to have kids… I’d watch you get older, and die. And I’d still be here, for eternity. An eternity without you. Without the love of my life…” you muttered, unable to hold in your tears any longer. “You need someone that can give you all those thing, Ellie. You deserve it…”

She was shaking her head, needing to tell you that none of that was real. That she loved you the same. That you weren’t a monster. That you both could adopt if you ever wanted a kid. That she’d never be able to find another love. ‘Cause you were it for her.

And she did, she said it all out loud without even realizing it. Pouring her heart out for you to see, For you to take. For you to hold on to.

“I love you. I’ll always love you. I’ll die for you. I’ll find a way to live with you forever. ‘Cause that’s all I ever wanted, an eternity by your side. An eternity that was taken away from me one time. And that now I’d not let get away again. So please… Love me. Choose me. Choose me over all the odds. And if you need to, kill me. ‘Cause either ways, I’d be dead without you.” she said, taking your hand and pushing it against her chest, over her heart. It sounded almost strained, ready to burst, to break in a million places.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t say no. Not when you loved her so much it hurt.

She was quick to held you in between her arms when you gave in, hands gently pulling from you to straddle her lap, chest against chest, tightly pressed against one another. “I’m yours. My blood is yours.” she said, one of her hands softly brushing your hair and guiding you to the crook of her neck, where her pulse pressed against her soft skin. “You can bite me, sweetheart. I’m all yours.” she promised, assuring you that it was okay. That she was okay.

You felt the hunger kick in like a tidal wave, making your skin crawl and your breath shake. You could smell it, almost taste it. Eyes turning red as you neared your lips to her neck, the hand on your hair never faltering, steady, ready. She shivered when your lips brushed against her skin, her head tilting even more to the side to give you all the space you needed.

And before you could realize it, blood was spilling inside your mouth. Warm sweet blood that made you grip her bare shoulders and hum as you sucked. Her fingers dug on your hips, gasping when she felt the pinch of your fangs and droplets of blood slid down her neck and onto her shirt.

“That’s it, baby.” she said, pulling you closer and relaxing against the bed’s headboard. “Take as much as you need.” she muttered, sighing at the new and strangely pleasant feeling of the bite.

She had made herself aware about the fact that it would probably hurt. In the end, her neck was being punctured. But strangely enough, it felt…, nice. Incredible even.

Her head felt all fuzzy. She felt…, high. At least there was no other way to describe it. It was probably an effect of the bite, an aphrodisiac, to soothe the ‘prey’ so they won’t fight as you drank from them.

She felt amazing. And so did you.

Her blood was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You couldn’t get enough. It made the ache on your body go away, your headache, your dizziness, your weakness… Everything. And left you feeling hungry for more. More of her. Of her touch, of her quickened heartbeat.

Everything seemed too much. But even if it was, you craved more.

“Shit.” Ellie cursed when you grinded yourself down on her lap, making the grip that she had on your hips tighten.

You got away from her neck, blood dripping from the corners of your lips as you stared at her, tongue darting out to clean your bottom lip from the crimson. “Ellie…” you whimpered, smelling the arousal grow underneath her sweatpants. You were burning up.

“Fuck, doll.” her eyes were half-lidded, breath heavy and shaky and lips blushed due to her bitting down on her bottom. “What d’ you do to me?”

“I don’t know…” you whined, unable to stop your hips to rocking against hers, the brushing and jumping against your clit intensified, making your mind all fuzzy. It felt so good…

You looked so hot, with your red eyes and blood tinting your lips. You didn’t looked sick anymore, your hair shining and color blushing your cheeks. You looked as beautiful as the day she lost you. Even more, if that could be possible.

And she needed you so much you were driving her insane.

“You taste so good…” you groaned, going back to her neck, licking up the blood and kissing bruises on her skin, making her tilt her head backwards in a moan when you went back to drinking from her.

“You’re killing me.” she withered underneath you, her hands helping you to rock against her, feeling like if you stopped whatever you were doing she’d die, needing you to keep touching her, licking her neck, using her… She needed you to suck her dry.

“Fuck Ellie, I need you.” the two of you felt so turned on… Probably due to the blood, bite and the connection you already shared. It was as if you were two magnets, two puzzle pieces meant to fit together, meant to be stuck together for eternity.

You needed her to take you, to make you hers, to fuck you ‘till you’d lost your voice. Needed to taste her, to ride her. You wanted everything at the same time. Whimpers leaving your throat at the aching in between your legs, in your bones for her to touch you, to set you on fire with her burning touch.

Your skin grew in goosebumps when she harshly crashed her lips onto yours, the taste of her blood on your lips making her groan, hips jerking up as her hands slid underneath —her— your shirt, warm fingertips against your cold skin, exploring the body she so well knew already.

The kiss was messy, the clashing of your tongues and teeth making it feel primal, as if the only thing there were was the two of you, your sharp nails dug on the neck of her shirt, ripping it apart in a quick movement, teeth biting down on your bottom lip when your blood-shot eyes roamed through her bare chest, which raised with every quick and shaky breath. Her skin was like fire against your cold fingertips.

You shivered when her thumb pulled from your lip, letting it go from your fangs, eyes fixated on your mouth as her tongue dampened her own, begging for another taste. She moaned when your lips brushed her wrist, your hand keeping it in place as you leaned in and bit down on it.

“Shit.” she gasped, her pussy throbbing inside her pants when you moaned against her, ready to bust, arousal soaking her underwear. She swore she could just cum by the feeling of your teeth on her skin. She was on edge.

She looked so beautiful, with blood sliding and pooling on her collarbones and her tits, crimson swollen lips and green blown eyes shining under the moonlight that came through the window of your bedroom.

“You like that?” you teased her, licking the blood off her wrist with a smirk. You could feel just how wet she was, smell her arousal. It made you so wet. Wetter than you had ever been. And you craved her so much you felt like dying.

She groaned, as if she were in pain. “Don’t.”

Her head lolled backwards, your lips leaving blood stain marks on her chest and down her stomach as you lowered yourself and slid down her body, your fangs gracing her skin in playful yet teasing marks that weren’t hard enough to break the skin.

Her fingers laced on your hair when your lips latched to her hip bone, sucking a bruise on her skin, making her moan and buck her hips against your mouth when your tongue traced the print of her wetness from beneath her clothes. “Fuck, baby…”

You hummed, knowing exactly what she needed. What you needed. “Want your pussy, Ellie.” your hands were quick to push down her sweats and underwear, her soaked cunt showing, puffy clit and twitching entrance begging for attention.

Your mouth watered at the sight. The smell of her musk so strong it was driving you crazy. You needed her on your tongue. Needed her to fill your mouth in cum, fuck you stupid…

She let out a raspy moan when your tongue sticked out, tasting and wiping off the slick from her weeping folds, your heightened senses making you hum at the taste. You felt like you couldn’t get enough of it.

Her fingers tugged harder on your hair when your tongue kitten licked her swollen clit, making her tremble, the aphrodisiac effect of the bite making her the most sensitive she had ever been before. You kissed her lips, teeth gently brushing against the sensitive skin, making her moan.

You smirked, eyes meeting hers when you tongue made a long stripe from her clenching hole to her clit, fangs on display and blood on your lips. Her cunt now stained on her blood, what made her twitch. “Such a fucking tease…” she groaned, breath hitching when you suddenly sucked her clit in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. “Fuck!” she almost came on the spot, your own moans vibrating around her, making her head roll backwards.

She looked so hot, your thighs clenched and pushed against each other, trying to find some friction, anything. The needy moans and whimpers that left your throat made the feeling of your mouth, warm against her, heavenly.

“So good…” she praised when you started to earnestly eat her out, your head moving up and down and side to side as you licked her, her hand guiding you, your nose burying in her pubic hair, making your head all fuzzy. You loved giving Ellie head, feeling her slick fill your mouth, loved it when she fucked your face with the purpose to please herself. You loved to be her little toy. “Yeah, just like that, fuck.” it all felt so intense for the both of you, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. “Such a good little girl, letting me fuck your mouth how I want.” your nails dug in her thighs, making her groan. “I’m gonna cum, shit.” she mumbled, her mouth falling open as you sucked harder on her clit, the oversensivity being too much and pushing her straight to the edge. “Fuckfuckfuck!!!” hot stripes of cum filled your mouth as she thrusted against it one more time, keeping you still as she came, groaning in pleasure. And if she weren’t that turned on and needy, she would have been embarrassed by how hard and fast she had cummed, but that didn’t matter, ‘cause you were back on her lap in a blink of an eye.

She was still dripping and throbbing after her first orgasm, and the feeling of your damped panties —since you had gotten rid of the pajama pants she had lent you— against her stomach made her groan. “Ellie…” you whined, feeling yourself about to burst when you rocked your hips against her, your skin burning whenever your bodies made contact. “Touch me please…” you begged, moaning when one of her hands pushed your tee above your head to latch her lips to your chest and tits as the other sneaked inside your panties. “Fuck!” you screamed when you felt her fingertips slowly slide in between your lips, getting soaked by your arousal.

“Too much, baby?” she mocked you, teasing you just like you had, her teeth biting on your nipples as her middle finger played with your clit. “You’re so wet. Did drinking my blood turned you on this much? Or maybe it was having my pussy on your mouth? Did you miss my cum, hm?” you nodded, whimpering as you rocked your hips against her fingers, which now circled your twitching tight hole. “Of course you did.” she cooed, pouting at you and then smirking when your mouth fell open in a silent moan at the feeling of two of her fingers easily sliding in into your soaked cunt. “Look at you, taking my fingers so good…” you were moaning as she thrusted into you, slowly, driving you insane. “I bet I can make you cum with just two of ‘em.” she mumbled against your ear before nipping at your earlobe, picking up her pace. “Do you want it? Want to cum all over my fingers, hm?” you hummed, tilting your head to the side when she started to suck on your neck, the feeling of her lips burning your skin. “Mmh? What was that? Need you to speak louder for me, baby.” a moan left your lips when she curved her fingers, hitting that sweet spot on your gummy walls, the squelch of your juices only making her cunt wetter and your mind dizzier.

“Yes, yes, please Ellie.” you sobbed, hands gripping her shoulders, nails digging on her skin when her free hand surrounded your neck, adding pressure. “Need it. Need it so bad…” you were a mumbling mess, her thumb now pressing against your clit, the coil in your stomach only getting stronger. You felt like you couldn’t breath.

“Good girl.” her fingers now fucking you just like you needed it, faster, deeper, harder, your g spot being hit with every new thrust, what had your legs shaking and moans and whimpers spilling from your swollen lips. Your walls tightened around her digits at her praise, teetering the edge, jumping on her fingers to make them reach deeper inside you, driving you insane. “You gonna cum, baby?” she hummed, loving how desperate you seemed. How wet you were for her, how beautiful your tits bounced with every grind of your hips, how your half-lidded eyes looked at her, full of desire. “Go ahead beautiful, come for me. Cum on my fingers.”

She didn’t have to ask twice, just the sound of her voice making you come the hardest you’ve ever had before. Vision turning white and ears ringing as you gushed all over her fingers, her thumb circling your clit to help you extend and help you ride it out. “That’s it. Give it to me, sweetheart.” you gasped for air as you came down, entrance twitching when her cum covered fingers left you “Look at that…” and found their way to her mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum. “You’re always so sweet for me.” you moaned, making her eyebrows raise. “What is it, baby? Want a taste?” she inquired, and you were quick to pull her in for a wet and needy kiss.

She could taste herself in your mouth and yourself in hers. The mix of both of you making you crave for more, tugging from her as you let yourself fell backwards, making her rest in between your legs, pussy pressed against your sensitive and recently fucked cunt, what made the two of you moan on each other’s mouth. “Shit.” she cursed when you harshly bit down on her lip, her blood mixing in the kiss as you sucked on it, her hips rocking against yours, pussy sliding up and down in between your puffy and soaked folds. “Fuck, doll.” she muttered when your lips latched onto the skin of her neck, humping yourself against her, moaning when your clits bumped against the other.

“Fuck Ellie, fuck me, please… I need you so bad…” you pleaded, sloppy open mouth kisses driving her insane, one of your hands sliding into her hair to tug.

“Fuck, you’re such a greedy slut… I gave you my fingers and yet here you are, begging for my pussy.” she muttered, the hand on your neck tightening as she pushed you against the sheets, pining you down and lifting one of your legs to straddle you. “Look at you, so desperate. Can’t get enough, huh? It’s almost embarrassing.” you whimpered, you could perfectly push her away with your new incredible strength but there was something in her dominance that made you even wetter.

The prey hunting the predator.

“If you want it so bad, why don’t you show me?“ you moaned when her lips sucked a new bruise on your chest, one of her hands reaching down to your clit. “Show me how much you want it. Fuck yourself on my pussy sweetheart.” she nipped on your neck, and in a quick movement you were on top of her, having changed positions in a blink of an eye. Her head fell backwards when you exasperatedly straddled her, lined her up with your soaking cunt and sat down on hers, whimpering at the feeling of her wetness. “Shit, baby.” she let out a breathy groan as your nails dug on her chest.

“E-Ellie...” you shakily breathed out, your whole body shivering at the feeling as you rolled your hips. You felt so… Alive.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart. Fuck my pussy.” she grunted, the feeling of your soaked cunt against hers making it hard to hold off. She groaned when you sped up, desperately bouncing on her clit, using her to get yourself off. “So pretty jumping on my clit. How ’s it feel, hm?” she smirked when, when you felt her fingers brush away a lock of your hair from your face, you whimpered, eyes on her bloody wrist.

“So good…” you moaned, the smell of her blood making your hips stagger, the need to taste her once more making your skin grow in goosebumps.

“You hungry, baby?” she teased you, whispering, purposely letting the bite mark on her neck show, lingering right in front of your face.

You whimpered when just as you leaned in, fangs painful pushing against your gums ready to bite down on her neck, her hand gripped your neck once again, pushing you onto your back and taking one of your legs to fuck your cunt in earnest.

She was edging you. Starving you from her sweet blood.

“Ellie!” you screamed when when she harshly thrusted against your slick folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You always had a hard time taking it like this, at his relentless and merciless pace, the feeling of her clit pushing hardly against yours. But yet, you found pleasure in the pain, in the primal of it all. The neediness in her eyes, the grunts that fell from her lips.

“Yeah, just like that. Fucking take it.” she moaned, her thrusts being so hard the headboard of the bed banged against the wall, probably leaving dents. “Shit, so good.” she slurred, relishing on the babbling mess that you were underneath him. “You like that? Like my pussy, sweetheart?“ she smirked, pushing two of her fingers inside your mouth, making you choke on them, drool spilling down your chin before she’d duck down to kiss you, licking it from your lips.

The sight of your naked body underneath her, the way your tits bounced, the mess of your hair, the tears that started to pool on your eyes… It all only made her pound against you harder, feeling like it could never be enough of the feeling of your cunt against hers, making her grunt.

“Ellie, shit, har—ah—harder!” you begged, your sharp and pointy nails drawing blood from her arms and hips, making her moan.

“Harder?” he inquired, making you shakily nod, lost in your own pleasure. “Like this?” she relished on your high pitched scream when both his hands reached down to grip your hips to start pulling you harder against her clit with every new pound, making your back arch against the mattress with every thrust, your sensitive and throbbing clit being abused over and over again due to the new angle. Your moans only got louder, your voice strained and words being all slurred.

Your voice broke, feeling yourself getting closer to coming for the second time in less than 15 minutes, head lolling to the side. “I’m gon—na, gonna cum!” you somehow managed to babble out, in need of reaching your high.

“You gonna cum?” she smirked, making you moan as she focused on pounding you just how she knew you loved the most. “Gonna cum on my pussy?” you hardly nodded, muttering a string of messy ‘yes’s. “Look at you, so pussy drunk you can’t even talk.” she chuckled, feeling your walls tighten. “Go ahead baby, cum all over my pussy. Want to see that beautiful face of yours fall apart.” one, two, three thrusts more and you were dissolving under her touch, moans slipping from your lips as well as her name as you gushed all over her cunt, your orgasm tearing you apart. “Fuck, that’s it. Shit. ” she muttered, flopping on top of you to continue her relentless thrusts, making you sob due to the overstimulation. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill this greedy pussy of yours so full your tummy will swell up.” you cried out at her words, pulling her closer. “Fuck, bite me…” she begged, precum leaking more and more as he neared the edge. “Bite me, baby, please…” she didn’t have to plead for it, your lips quickly latching to her neck before your teeth sunk into her flesh, fresh blood filling your mouth, what worked the two of you closer to your respective highs. “Shit, I’m cumming!” and with that she came on your cunt, painting your clit and slick folds of the purest white, the feeling making you reach your third orgasm in a row, making your thighs shake and your stomach turn. You whimpered on her neck, her blood spilling and painting your chest and tits.

She continued to thrust against you to help the two of you ride your orgasms as she leaned down and latched to your chest, tongue darting out to lick her own blood out of you skin, what made you cry out.

As you came down from your respective highs, the two of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes, trying to calm yourselves down from the mind-blowing and best sex you had ever have in your lives. You shivered when she pulled away, your combined warm loads dribbling from your folds and onto the mattress, her blown out eyes taking the sight of your shaky legs and twitching entrance with a starving gaze. “Shit baby, you did so good for me.” she muttered, biting down on her bottom lip.“Fuck, look at that…” she sighed and a whine left your lips when two of her fingers pushed it all inside, slowly pumping her cum in and out of you with a squelch.

“Ellie!” you tried and push her away, your hands grabbing at her wrists. But soon enough you were a moaning mess, rocking your hips against her fingers, giving in, the overstimulation moving from pain to pleasure. She only smirked, lowering herself ‘till her lips were only inches away from your neck, making you shiver, the contact making your skin grow in goosebumps.

She chuckled at your reaction, her blood staining her white teeth and lips in a malicious smile.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart… I don’t bite.”

@fleshunger 💋🧛‍♀️

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doberbutts · 9 months

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Curious about something you mentioned in your post last week, you said that in your opinion all drugs should be legal and I’m curious about how that would be a positive at all? Like I get weed bc it’s pretty harmless but when I think of drugs I think of cocaine and heroin, which have destroyed so many lives. If it was widely available wouldn’t that end up hurting more people than helping? That’s just my opinion but I’m curious on the other side

I do think all drugs should be legal. This is said knowing that addiction runs in my family and that the only reason my older sister is my *sister* is due to drug use and addiction. Otherwise she'd be my cousin.

Making drugs illegal does not stop people from getting high. It does not stop drug related crime. And it certainly does not stop drugs from tearing families apart.

Addiction is a symptom of a larger problem. Solve the problem and the addict problem goes away. Solve the addict problem and drugs stop ruining lives and destroying families and creating massive amounts of drug related violence. Places that have roled out decriminalization strategies effectively have seen an overall reduction in crime rates across the board, a reduction in recreational drug use, and a reduction in bloodborne illness like HIV. Creating safe needle exchanges as well as safe places to get high with medical staff onhand has also created a locale where very few people die from overdose.

Most people hear "decriminalize all drugs" and think I mean a free-for-all. I don't. I think the drug market should be regulated. I don't think you should be able to get ketamine or heroin over the counter at a walmart like you can get asprin. But I think it's time to stop putting people in jail for getting high.

My aunt tore her life and her family and her health apart for years while she was addicted to heroin. My sister, her daughter, needed to be removed from her care due to the amazingly bad choices she made as a mother due to her addiction and her prioritizing drugs over the health and safety of her daughter. My aunt has had multiple heart attacks from the damage the constant drug use did to her body.

My aunt is more than a decade sober and do you know why? It's not because she got a wakeup call when her daughter was taken away, because at the time she willingly and freely signed her over to my parents because that got her "out of [her] hair". It's not because she had a heart attack, because she went right back to it the moment she was out of the hospital. It's not even because she spent time in rehab and prison, because the moment she was out she was using again.

No, my aunt got sober because her life changed. She was put on a better pain management plan. She got out of her shitty marriage to her shitty husband. She completed some education to make her more hireable so she didn't have to rely on less than safe means of paying her bills. She reconnected with my sister and reforged their relationship once she was 18. She bought her own house. She found love with someone who didn't give a shit about her past and brought out the best in her.

My aunt was a deeply unhappy person. Heroin made life more tolerable for her. Until she couldn't tolerate life without it. Until she'd do anything, anything, to get her next high.

A lot of addicts are addicts because they are self-medicating for something else and their drug of choice has chemical properties that makes their brains crave it more. If you fix the "deeply unhappy" part, you create a healthier environment for that addict to take control over their life again. Without it, they are far more likely to continue to relapse.

Knowing this, why would I then want to add the threat of prison and jailtime- life-ruining things themselves- to an addict's list of concerns?

Look up rat park sometime. In the rat paradise, drugged water was freely offered, and occasional a rat here or there would take a hit or two, but rarely enough to even get high and almost never habitually. Addiction literally didn't exist even though the rats were taking addictive substances. But the rats in cages, seperated from each other, with no enrichment, crammed into small spaces and stressed to hell? Those rats took hit after hit after hit until they overdosed and died. The addict rats were deeply unhappy. The drugs were their only escape. The paradise rats had to be lured in with sweetened drugs to even consider and even then they rejected them. The caged rats did not need sweetner, even though the drugs made the water bitter.

If we can see such a stark difference in rats having their needs met vs rats experiencing isolation and stress, what would happen if we showed human addicts the same consideration?

I think a lot better results than continuing to jail deeply unhappy and desperate people for doing the only thing they can think of to cope.

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ningvory · 6 months

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payment methods — ning yizhuo

CW: noncon, landlord gp!ning, reader has a boyfriend but ning doesn’t care, darcyphilia, power imbalance, creampie, cumming inside, squirting, ning has a thing for pretty girls, crybaby reader, ning’s lowk a perv and she REALLY hates readers bf, lowk yandere vibes from ning, tummy buldge, breeding kink, nipple play

word count: 839 words

anon ask? yes!

this is very noncon so pleaseeeee read with caution!!

ningning knows this is wrong, she’s a business woman and she should really evict you and your bitchass boyfriend from your apartment. it’s been multiple time that your rent payment had been late.

even her friend, karina warns her that her weakness for pretty girls would soon get her in serious trouble. but she honestly can’t help herself! the way you plead to her with tears threatening to fall, telling her to give you a few more days and that you promise you’ll pay the rent, while wearing shorts that are far too short. she can’t help but think about ways to corrupt you.

so, here she is infront of your apartment door once more, waiting for you to open the door.

once you open it, your eyes almsot automatically begin tearing up and mouth opening to speak but she beats you to it, “y’know, there’s other ways you can pay me,” she says. eyes dark and slowly walking closer to you.

you don’t understand what she means by that so you just look at her shockingly, “really? i-ill do anything i swear!” you babble out. you’re so naive it has her chuckling.

too innocent that you let her lock your door and she’s immediately pouncing on you, pushing you to the wall and pinning you there while grinding her already hardened cock into your ass.

“w-wait—i didn’t mean this!” you sob, desperately trying to free yourself from her grip but that does nothing but push your ass into her even more.

“i’m being nice and offering you another option, take it.” she mutters, making whimpers fall from your mouth.

your lips began to quiver and you let your tears ruin your face when you felt her hands slide up under your oversized shirt to grope your tits.

“no bra? tch, you’re basically asking for someone to fuck you, pretty.” she mutters, before diving in the crook of your neck to suck your neck.

she began to suck on your neck, taking a deep breath of your scent before moaning. she ran her hand under your shirt to grope at your tits. squeezing them before pinching your nipples, making you whimper at the stinging pain.

“n-ning—it—hurts,” you whine out between sniffles wanting her to stop tormenting your tits.

“oh don’t cry, baby, it’ll be over quicker if you cooperate.” she slides her hand down to remove your shorts and panties and unbuttoning her pants before removing her boxers, revealing her hardened cock leaking with precum.

you let out a unintended gasp when she pulls your hips back to meet her cock, pushing into your tight cunt with a whimper from the tightness.

“w-wait—stop! d-don’t wan’ it.” you cry and try to run away from the feeling of her cock bullying her way inside you.

but oh, ning doesn’t care what you want, she’s gripping onto your waist to hold you in place before pounding deliberately into you.

“you d-dont wan’ it? so whys your cunt squeezing me so well then?” her words are a bit slurred and she’s struggling to keep her pace.

“n-no! i’m-i’m serious! a-and what—if—what if he comes back?” you ask her, referring to your boyfriend. you try and put up a fight that you know you’ll loose, you’re trying to twist and squirm your way free but to no avail, causing her to growl in your ear, “fuck—him, he doesn’t—fuck!—deserve you anyways. you’re fucking mine. g’na mark you up so everyone can see who you—fucking belong to,” her mind is hazy and she’s struggling to make a full coherent sentence. nothing but the thought of breeding you in her mind.

she’s fucking into you wildly, chanting, ‘you’re mine, g’na fill you up’ repeatedly making you moan and drool all over yourself at the feeling of her big dick pumping into you.

her saying how she’s gonna fill you up with her cum as your cunt squirting all over her and the floor. but she continues to fuck you through it.

“please don’t come inside,” you protest, but your cunt is saying the opposite, your dripping cunny is suffocating her cock, making her whine and pump into you quicker and sloppier. she moans one last time before pushing her cock all the way in and holding your hips in place. thick ropes of her warm cum start spilling into your cunt.

the overstimulation and her cum painting your insides white causes your body to shake. you think it’s over when she pulls out a little but she starts her abuse on your cum filled cunny once more. you choke back a moan, “n-no—” you cry from the sensation, her cum began to leak out a little from her pumping herself once more into your cunt.

“sorry pretty.” she coo’s before pressing down on your tummy bulge, “gotta make sure nothing goes to waste,” she adds on. you’re too far gone to even realize what she’s saying so you dumbly nod at her words, letting her use your weak body as she pleases.

#♡.ningning #♡.aespa #♡.nabi’s asks #wlw smut #g!p #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader #ningning x fem reader #aespa ningning smut #ningning smut #aespa ningning #aespa x reader #kpop smut

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xeeljii · 2 months

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SHE'S MY COLLAR

I clear my system, I don't need no other This is my persona, secret lover, she’s my collar

WARNING! Explicit RPF!

EDIT! Prequel available, you can read that first if you want.

Summary: You don’t want a relationship and he does, he should know better to keep falling in your trap but the feel of your soft legs wrapping around his hips is too tempting to quit so like a fool he keeps coming back to you.

Word count: 5.4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, friends with benefits, mentions of past sex, mutual pining, set in Berlin but reader is not specified to be German or anything, no specific body descriptions.

You had met Joost some months ago, before the incident and before he blew up too. There was an instant connection. Not just psychical but he was easy to talk to, so funny and kind, really unlike anyone you had ever met. He was incredibly charismatic and the people around him seemed to adore him, you honestly had a crush as soon as you started talking but you had an amazing poker face too so you did well to hide it. The night you first had run into each other you were at a private event at some club in Berlin that a well connected friend had invited you to. He caught your eye and apparently so did you. The rest of the night was a whirlwind, you drank heavily, danced wildly and laughed together until your jaw started hurting, all to end up back at the place where he was staying.

You hadn’t even slept together that first time, well you had in the sense that he had let you sleep on his bed, wearing his clothes. However, in the morning when you woke up he had fucked you within an inch of your life, still heavy with sleep but so deliciously slow savoring every thrust. He was a generous lover, always preoccupied with your pleasure first and he was a fast learner, sweet and eager to please. You liked fixating on the many beauty marks and tattoos that littered his body, enjoyed sharing a shower together and falling asleep on the couch after a make out session. It was never awkward, it just felt so good from the get go. The lines were not entirely clear, you would have casual sex together but also go out for lunch, and hang out like normal friends. You had bought him his own toothbrush for your place at some point, he didn’t say anything as not to fluster you but he appreciated it. He didn’t leave right after he finished, always made sure you came first too, he liked cuddling and he would help you clean up softly between your legs when your limbs were still too heavy for a bath. He was usually in town only for a day or the weekend at most but he made an effort to see you every time. He would bring food to have dinner before trying to get you in bed, he also brought you other trinkets form his travels and always texted and called you when he was away so you wouldn’t forget him in the meantime, as if that was even possible. It was nice but it made your heart hurt a bit, scared and expectant for when the fantasy would stop and your idilic “friendship” would end.

You felt a little out of place in his life, he would always invite you to his shows and there you would see how you were not the only one enamored by him. It was fine really, you weren’t together, there was no expectations and furthermore you had no right to even feel jealous when it was you who coyly stopped his advances every time he tried moving the goalpost from casual to serious. He couldn’t complain, he felt so at ease when he was with you, you were smart, funny and beautiful, he really felt you came straight out of one of his dreams. But you seemed so far away at the same time, perhaps exactly like an illusion you wouldn’t let him get any closer. He knew you had a life of your own, friends and a job you loved but he also wished you would actually take him up on the multiple offers to fly you out with him, yet you never did. Through the months you had known each other he had found himself in your bed countless times, he liked it more than taking you back to whatever place he was staying at. It felt like home in a way that made him greedy. Your place was nice and tidy, a little on the old side but it just made it more charming in his eyes. He wanted to bring you back to his home, to show you around the places he liked and where he grew up, to have you on his bed waking up every morning, yet for whatever reason you wouldn’t let him. Still, like an idiot knowing he was playing for the losing team he kept coming back to you every time.

One of the many nights you had gone out drinking together you ended up, as usual, getting separated from the group and wandering the streets alone, just the two of you, hand in hand. There was never an uncomfortable silence with you, his thumbs traced shapes on the side of your hand while you pulled him seemingly aimlessly under the street lamps. “Look!” You said happily pulling at his hand to follow, there was what seemed like a little run down playground and some old looking photo booths, you pulled him inside one. You both squeezed into the small bench, you were almost sitting on his lap. “You have to put the bill here” You pointed at a metallic slip. “I don’t have cash on me” He replied. “Oh! you owe me big time then” You said smiling poking out your tongue at him, you pulled some bills from your pockets and the machine started making strange noises before a bright light blinded both of you. You immediately erupted into shared laughter “Okay, quick pose!” The machine kept snatching pictures one after the other and you kept feeding it money amused. At some point he became too distracted by the faces you were making and didn’t even bother looking towards the camera, he thinks that is probably when he truly fell for you. You had noticed his stare and looked down at him. “You are wasting my photo money if you don’t pose!” You whined, he couldn’t bring himself to speak a single syllable, he just pulled you further into his lap and kissed you deeply. It felt like the world had started and stopped right there inside that photo booth. After an eternity in your lips he softly spoke up again.

“Can I walk you home?” He said a breath away from your lips.

You nodded, face red and pupils dilated “Yeah” Your voice was so pretty when you were breathless, he couldn’t wait to have you moaning under him or over him, however you wanted, he was just a fool at your mercy.

Before you left he had picked up the photos you almost forgot and shoved them in his back pocket, back home in the Netherlands he had carefully placed them on the drawer of his nightstand and kept coming back to them on days when he was feeling particularly homesick for your arms.

Now he was in Berlin again, for a show, you knew because he had texted you days before asking you to come. You had told him you couldn’t, that there was some important work meeting you had to prepare for. Truth was, it wasn’t that important, but you were trying to put some distance between the two of you. Every time you had sex it became more tender more gentle, addicting in a way you knew you couldn’t allow yourself, it felt like making love. You felt bad about not getting to see him, guilty about the disappointed little face he made in a selfie he sent you as a reply, but you felt it was for the better. Like this, soon he would get tired and move on so he could become a fun memory that hopefully wouldn’t hurt you too much when you thought about him years down the line.

But you weigh heavy on his mind and on his heart and when the show is over and the alcohol is all gone he feels an impulse that gets him to his feet. He wants to see you. He knows you are busy but also distantly feels like you are avoiding him, like you caught on the fact that he is falling, or more like already fell, for you. But so what if he likes you? What if he is in love for real? What you don’t know cant hurt you and if he gets hurt in the process then that is fine, it doesn’t bother him, maybe only bothers a little bit. He knows the way to your apartment by heart, could probably get there blindfolded, has been there so many times he feels it is a second home, wants it to be a second home. He is drunk and deeply melancholic, he is feeling down on his luck but maybe a beautiful woman can save him, but only if it is you. The venue he is at is luckily close enough to your pace, he makes his way on foot, somewhere along the night it had started raining, fitting for his mood. He is only wearing a light hoodie, that quickly gets soaked, he honestly can’t even feel cold he is just moving on instinct trying to reach you. Soon enough he gets to the entrance of your building and pulls his phone out, texts you before his brain can stop him.

You are rolling around in bed not able to fall asleep at all, not worried about the stupid meeting but knowing that Joost is in town and your idiot past self denied him makes you feel terrible. You should just enjoy the moment as much you can, take everything he is willing to give you and when you get thrown away there will be more fun memories. You don’t really know why you are tying to be the responsible one in this situation, you should just bet everything on your losing horse and let future you worry about how to deal with the unpleasant consequences. Right as you unsuccessfully try to close your eyes again and let the soft rain outside lull you to sleep, you hear the little ping of your phone on the nightstand. You already know who it is without having to check in the way your stomach does a summersault. But still, you pick up the phone and read “I’m outside, can I come in?”. Idiot, it is raining, he probably doesn’t even have an umbrella. You have to let him in or he will catch a cold, it is a kindness really, you have no hidden motives, you are just being nice, your hands are tied. You try to convince yourself as you immediately stand from the bed and walk quickly towards the door.

You ring him in and wait right by the door with your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. He all but races pathetically upstairs, two steps at the time, like he can’t be fast enough to reach you. You wait on held breath and you hear his heavy footsteps right outside but wait until he knocks, then you make a show of waiting a few seconds, pretending like you are just getting up and open the door slowly rubbing your eyes as if you had really been asleep. You move aside to make way for him.

“Come in” you mumble after a small yawn leaves your mouth, he walks in and takes his shoes off, then you notice that he is dripping wet. “Joost did you walk here?” You drop the sleepy act immediately.

“It wasn’t that far” he mumbles looking away, there is a small blush blooming on the high of his cheeks.

You stand in front of him taking his hoodie off “Go get in the shower, you are gonna catch a cold”.

He does as he is told there is a strange cozy feeling in this interaction that goes straight to his heart.

In the shower he keeps trying to come up with what to say to convince you to date him seriously. For a songwriter he feels he is not very good at this words things right now or maybe he is too drunk or maybe he cares too much about what you will think of him. He gets under the warm water, reaches for your soap, not the expensive one because you will get mad that he used it, but the one you use for everyday, his favorite one. He likes this, smelling like you, it makes him feel like he is a little bit a part of you, makes him wish you would become a little bit a part of him too. After a few minutes you open the door of the bathroom to drop a warm towel for him and take his clothes to dry. You say nothing, it feels too domestic, like it is a built up habit the two of you have. He wants to keep you all to himself. He never asks if you are seeing someone else and you do the same, it is common curtesy but he feels the question itching at the back of his throat every time he sees you start dressing right after you are done. He could take care of you, he makes good money, make it so you could be at every one of his shows. The rational part of his brain thinks he is being cruel. You love your job and your career, it would be like keeping a bird on a cage he can’t bear the though while at the same time he just keeps having this vivid fantasy of coming home to you every day, of waking up by your side, seeing your tooth brush next to his, have your hair clog the drain of his shower, actually buy groceries to have at home and not just the pre-made meals and beer he is used to. He wants to treat you right and be good for you and yet you are standing firmly on your side denying him even the chance. It hurts him, he feels a little inadequate for as much as he is sure of himself he still wants to ask what is stopping you from taking a chance on him.

Outside you try to fix the bed a little bit after putting his clothes on the dryer. You feel electricity right under your skin, to have him naked in your bathroom, the man that just few hours ago had so many people screaming his name. It feels like a beautiful secret in your tongue, only for you. The reality is you like him as much as he does you, you really do, you are eager to see him every chance you can and your chest start beating so hard when you get a text from him. Since you met there has been rarely a week you go without talking and it feels nice, you want to keep it going. But he is a budding star, when you met him you could see it, that he was made of something otherworldly it was just waiting below the surface for the whole world to see and now they finally did. You are so incredibly proud of him, but it is exactly because of it that you can’t have him. He is young, can have so much fun with as many people as he wants, you don’t understand why he would want to tie himself down to you, knowing you can’t even follow him around like he wishes. He should be free, you would feel like you are cutting his wings too early and you can’t bear the thought of him deciding half way through that you are boring, that having a girlfriend is boring and the world is his oyster and he should just enjoy himself as much as he wants without you stopping him. He is not that type, not at all and you know it, but it still won’t let you take the step even when he has his hand out expectantly waiting on you.

You hear the water from the shower stop, you are probably not getting lucky tonight and that is okay, you just like having him near you, with the weather now he works as a personal heather. You haven’t really just slept together without sex as an excuse, not since the first time at least, and it makes you a little nervous. You think briefly about changing into nicer pajamas but he already saw the ones you are wearing so no point, you feel a rush of nervousness raise on your body. Before you get more anxious, he comes out of the bathroom, hair leaving little droplets of water on your floor as he walks. White towel hanging low from his hips, you appreciate the softness of his belly, the happy trail that disappears under the towel, the way the hair there is darker than anywhere else in his body and even more noticeable when wet. You can’t help but scan all over his body, ogle at his chest, his soft pecs and the thin hair on them that looks white usually and now a dark golden yellow, his wide shoulders littered with freckles because he can’t be bothered to ever use sunscreen, he is so beautiful it hurts. Without the excuse of sex you feel shy looking and maybe like a little bit of a creep, you try to avert your gaze. If he notices the staring he says nothing about it and slowly walks towards you. You are holding a towel in your hands “Let me help you” You say raising your hands above his head, he stands right in front of you making you look up, you start gently moving your hands to dry his hair a little, he places his big hands on your hips and pulls you closer, wants to kiss you so bad but stops himself, he doesn’t want to get kicked out in the middle of the night when your unmade bed looks so delicious and inviting. You feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze, his thumbs drawing circles in the exposed skin under your sleeping camisole, you want to make this last forever. “Done” You say almost in a whisper, you throw the towel on chair nearby. Almost on instinct you raise to your tip toes and kiss softly at his cheek, too late you realize what you just did, infinitely more intimate than what you should, you just look away quickly and clear your throat.

“Lets get some sleep yeah?” You say turning around to hide your blushing face, you climb on the bed and raise the comforter, patting at the empty space beside you motioning for him to move.

You make it so incredibly hard not to like you and he is such a weak man. He takes a few steps before reaching the edge of the bed, takes the towel off and throws it to the chair before climbing up behind you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, of course he would sleep naked he has no other clothes here but it also makes you fight a great urge to stare at his pretty dick hanging heavy between his legs. You turn over on bed and have your back face him, you cannot deal with any more of this tonight so you will just have to avoid it and try to figure out the best diplomatic solution on the morning. As you start to settle down you feel him move behind you, for a moment he stops and then you feel his strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you to his chest. Your heart is beating wildly, he has to be able to feel it trough the thin fabric of your pajamas that is doing very little to separate you from the heat of his body, you can’t be expected to sleep like this. He thinks even if you were surgically sewn together it would not be close enough, you feel so soft under his touch so tender he wants to, no, needs to fall asleep just like this for the rest of his life.

You close your eyes really hard trying to ignore everything around, you still actually need to sleep. There is a long moment of silence that feels like an eternity, then you feel him take a deep breath. You fear you know what is coming and you fear you are not strong enough right now to stop it.

“Why don’t you wanna date me?” He asks, the words come down on you heavy like rocks, you can feel a strain in his voice, you hate to be the reason why his usual cheerful tone is fully gone.

“Do we really have to have this conversation again?” You say your eyebrows knitting in worry.

“Yeah actually I want an answer.” He swiftly turns you around like you are weightless, he looks directly at you, deep blue eyes expectantly, you feel yourself shiver under his gaze, the tension is rapidly building up, you want to put distance between you but he has your legs trapped, tangled between his.

“Joost you know-” He cuts you off before you can give him the usual excuses.

“I’m serious about you, about us, would it be so terrible to date me?” He has a kicked puppy kind of face, you accidentally laugh at his dramatics, he adores that sound so much never tires of it. You snake your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer into a short kiss trying to distract him, he deepens the kiss eager explore you mouth, all but melts under your touch and you far too soon pull away before he can do more.

“You are hard” You mumble against his lips in between giggles.

He rolls his eyes at you, he is trying to be serious here “Ignore it, I am in the room of the woman I like where everything smells like her, give me a break.”

If there was any light in the room you would be able to see how deeply red his face is now.

“What are you a dog?” You say shaking your head entertained by his reactions.

You try to pull away but he grabs your hand again and rests it square against his heart like this way he will make you understand. “I really like you” He is not letting it go this time, you shake your head lightly again and pull your hand away, you cannot face this proximity, you untangle yourself from his embrace and raise into a sitting position, he does the same.

“Joost you are great, really I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you and I don’t think I ever will again.” There is a horrible pause, he knows what is coming next, the awful fear of rejection becoming reality far too quick. You continue “But you are traveling all over the world and that is so cool, I just can't be part of that.” He doesn’t understand why you look so sad when he is the one being let down here.

“We could make it work you know, phones exists and I come here all the time, it is only like an hour by plane” He is pleading at this point, feels so pathetic doing so but can’t stop himself. You make an effort to meet his gaze, he is being so sincere it feels bad not to.

“You could have someone new every night, at every city. You are young, you can enjoy yourself, you don’t have to tie yourself down to me, it would be such a waste-”

“Not to me, not when it is you” He is indignant at your proposal, he hates the idea that you could be so easily replaced, he feels like an idiot, like none of his efforts to make you understand how precious you are to him have reached you.

“I don’t want that” He is so exasperated now, it is like you are not listening to any of the words he is saying or not believing them which is even worse. “I don’t want any of that I don’t like it, I know I could but I don’t want it. I like you, I want you”. He pauses for a second to give himself strength to get it all out "It is my business and you can reject me if you want but you don’t get to tell me what I should do” He feels offended that you seem to not understand at all.

You had never seen him this angry. He goes speechless wracking his brain trying to come up with something else to say to convince you, maybe drinking before coming here was bad, he should do this sober, maybe bring some flowers and wear the blazer you like, maybe then you would not throw him out like an old toy. He is looking at you waiting for anything, his eyes are glossy, his lips almost tremble into a pout, his hands are clenched into nervous fists at his sides, he is pleading and you can’t help but reach out for him too. Fuck it, if you are gonna ever get hurt you want it to be him, if you get heart broken you want it to be him, whatever happens good or bad, you want it to be him, he is worth everything.

You close the distance between the two of you again, move to sit on his lap just to have him as close as possible, he has become a rock in your bed, feels like if he breathes he will break the spell and you will disappear right in front of his eyes. You grab at his hand, unclenching his fist with you fringes, softly stretching his palm and placing it right above your fast beating heart before speaking again.

“I really like you too Joost” His eyes shine impossibly bright, he looks at you stupefied, he can’t quiet belive what he is finally hearing, he feels your heart beating fast right under his palm, hard proof that you are just as gone for him as he is for you, his brain is trying to catch up to what is happening, but you help him.

You caress his cheek with your other hand and bring him into a sweet kiss. Your lips move together slowly like you are kissing again for the first time, his tongue pushes softly into your mouth, he wants to taste you, he traces the back of your teeth, you suck softly on his plump bottom lip, you smile into the kiss and pull away gently but continue to pepper soft kisses on his lips, on his jaw, on his cheeks. You wonder if he was always this handsome or has your love made him even more beautiful now. He pulls you closer hugs you thigh, happy just to be in your embrace again and feel like he truly belongs there. He chases after your lips kisses you like he is drowning and you are the only source of air, he feels the softness of your mouth it takes him back to the first night he met you, he wants to stay here forever, live on this moment until the end of time, only you and him in a soft unmade bed kissing for eternity.

Finally with lips kissed raw you pull away leaving one last small peck on the little beauty mark underneath his bottom lip. He holds you close, traces soft circles with his palms on your back under the camisole savoring every inch of exposed skin he can touch. You let him relax under you for a bit before you speak again, with a new world of prospects opening in front of you you want to share some more ideas with him now that all the cards are on the table.

“You know…my company is thinking of opening a new branch in Nethera-”

“Yes” he cuts you off immediately, you laugh at his eagerness.

“I didn’t finish talking” You push the hair away from his pretty face so you can see him better.

“You can stay with me yeah? I have a guest room you can stay there if you feel more comfortable, I am not trying to imply we have to sleep together but I mean we could if you wanted to” He is running his mouth all nervous and impatient like he is just a few steps away from winning the race of his life, you don’t reply, all too amused at his monologue, but it makes him fear he might have overstepped and scared you too fast with commitments. “I mean, until you get settled and you find an apartment, I could help you with that…” He trails off and looks away shyly, then looks up again holding your gaze. “But you could stay there too if you wanted, it could be your home too.”

He looks up at you from under white eyelashes, eyes full of hope. The possibilities seem endless, at this moment you feel like you can touch the sky with your hands and that if you couldn’t reach he would pull it down for you. You nod speechless, bite your lip and kiss him again, because you can, because he is yours.

You keep playing with his hair as rest his head on your chest, feels your heart beat under his ear, he wants to memorize it, now knows he has all the time in the world to do so. You move slightly on his lap.

“But we really do have to sleep now” You say, your voice sounds suddenly so groggy, every worry you have had the past months, that would keep you up at night, seems to have melted away in an instant and your body is feeling so tired and heavy.

He nods against you and moves you softly into laying down position again. He wants to start getting used to taking care of you, he thinks it will come easy, already feels so satisfied with so little, he lets you settle on the bed then moves behind you again snaking his arms around your torso pushing his palms under your shirt to feel the soft expanses of your belly as you breath in and out, you let him, between his strong arms it feels like home.

You feel your eyes close heavy, the sound of his calm breathing behind you lulling you to sleep, the steady beat of his heart perfectly in synch with yours, but you can’t fully let slumber take you since somewhere in the kissing his dick woke up again and is now pressing against your back.

You laugh to yourself before speaking. “Joost you know I can feel your dick, right?”.

He hums in acknowledgment but makes no further move, he just keeps holding you on his embrace, his chest against your back soft and deliciously warm. “Ignore it” He says in a sleepy mumble that transforms into a yawn right above your head. “My girlfriend has work in the morning, you have to let her sleep.” He loves how that sounds coming from his mouth, gets excited thinking about using that word again.

If you turned around at that moment you would see the beautiful smile that paints his features, he looks like he just won the lottery. He can’t wait for tomorrow, to wake up and have breakfast in your table, gets excited over the prospect of all the mundane with you. He falls asleep quickly with the warmth of your body nestled between his arms, in his dreams he sees even further ahead, dreams of taking you with him everywhere you will let, of changing your contact name to “Liefde” and of continuing to call you his girlfriend forever and ever until one day if he is lucky, he can upgrade it to wife.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

PREQUEL: STEP ON ME ₊˚⊹♡ MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚

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