unilaterallydisarming

Being inside of her was warm, comforting. Just like her touches, her kisses. He was was wrapped around her, in her comfort, in her love, as he cried from simply...

Being wanted.

Being loved.

He didn't know how badly he needed to hear the words.

He wasn't sure how long he cried, but he eventually calmed down, and got his breathing under control.

"So-sorry." He sniffed, and made to rub the last of the tears out of his eyes. Thankfully, he was still hard. His desire hadn't wavered, even in the outpouring of emotion.

"I...didn't know I needed to hear it so badly." He sniffed, and looked up at her eyes. "If you still want to...I'd still like to."

Have sex, that was.

She reaches up to cup his cheek.

"Oscar," and there is so much tenderness in her voice, "of course I still want to." Now she laughs, joyful, and she punctuates it by kissing him, passionately pressing him against the bed. "You love me. And I love you." She flexes the muscles within her, giving him a coaxing squeeze.

"There is nowhere else I want to be right now. No one else I want to be with in this moment." She'll kiss him again. "Now let me show you how wonderful it can be... not to just 'have sex', but..." she smiles as she leans up, rocks against him, presses her forehead to his, "to make love."

Which is when she's going to start rocking her hips, and she'll gently put her hand over his on her hip.

When she laughed, so joyful, so happy, he had to smile. Even as he sank down onto the bed, he watched her his thumb brushing over her hip, anchoring her so she could...

Make love in earnest.

"Show me. Please." His voice was soft. Ragged from the crying, but earnest as he moved to rock with her, help her stay close. "Show me how to make love with you."

He wanted that, pour out his love for John, more than anything in the world in this moment. Nothing else but John, and her pleasure mattered right now.

Just the two of them.

She feels the same. And for a few minutes, the movements are slow and steady, an aching, coaxing rhythm meant to allow them to hold one another. John didn't want to pull away, didn't want to move her forehead from his, but soon enough, her breathing goes to gasping and her gasping turns to short, scattered moans as her pace increases.

She leans down, in, and takes his mouth in a kiss that breaks desperately as the change in angle hits something deep inside of her that finally draws one of those moans from earlier, a full bodied sound that is just for Oscar, just from Oscar. It has her arching up, her hands resting on his chest as he'll feel her chasing it, the wave of pleasure building up inside of her as gravity and her hips send him inside of her over and over again.

Her eyes are closed, the gold just a thin line between the fluttering lashes, lips parting almost against her will to let out another sound of satisfaction and want.

"Oscar," but her eyes are closed, "Oh, Oscar. Oh, Oscar, it's so good. It feels so good, Oscar. I love this. I love it with you. Love you. Oscar."

She'll take his hand, move it to her breast. Take his arm and gently press it to her thigh, help her steady that way. Touch her. .

It's wonderful to feel such closeness. It felt like it was soothing the ache he had in his heart, after feeling so unloved, untouched.

But the movement made him groan for John, with John as the pleasure grew and grew. She was so beautiful, so heart achingly gorgeous, knowing he was giving John pleasure, just like this.

"I love you. I don't want this with anyone else John- just you."

His hand squeezed her breast, fondling it as his other arm aimed to support her.

"Can I...move you onto your back? I need to- I need to move more. I need you John." He had so much want just burning in him now, making him want to fuck her into the mattress.

That squeeze will get a moan, but his question is answered in a swift nod as she'll shift her weight to one side, making sure to lean so that he has his good arm to push off with. It will end with her on her back, one leg wrapped around him at his hip while the other splays out, one hand on the headboard while the other seeks his hip.

"I love you, Oscar. I love you. Please-"

She can feel it. She can feel how much he wants and there's nothing in her that wants to deny it to him. That intense desire, that focus of affection: she feels like she might glow with it.

He appreciates the help. The lean on to the right means he can grab onto the bed at first, then gently roll them both so John was on her back.

"I love you John. I love you. Fuck-"

He started to move in earnest, his left arm pressed into the bed as he pumped his hips with increasing ferocity. His love made him fierce, focused. He wanted to be inside her so deep, connect as much as he could. Show her how much he loved her with every movement he made.

She's not sure what hits harder, the words or the physical act. Either way, she cries out as he starts to move, clinging to him with one hand and gripping the bed with the other, which is fair since the bed is rocking with the intensity of Oscar's focus.

She knows that Oscar's nowhere close to finishing when she topples over the edge, when she cries out his name and begs him-

"Don't- don't stop, please- Oscar, please-"

She doesn't want him to stop before he gets to come, doesn't want him to think that she can't take more or that he'd hurt her if he did. No, no, that is the farthest thing from the truth. The way she feels, the way she feels about him, him about her-

She is thought and idea made physical, she is entirely her own and determined by herself. She is a reflection of all who see her. She is beautiful because he sees her as beautiful. The intensity of his desire: it might as well be a prayer. He wants her to feel pleasure, to feel joy, to feel loved. It sings through every movement, every breath, every thrust and she feels it that way.

It's beautiful.

It's beautiful and she can deny him nothing.

It will only be the first of many. And she can't wait to tell him how wonderful he made her feel when they can both think properly. Because she knows his smile will light up the room.

Edited 2025-08-24 00:00 (UTC)

Their love made John beautiful in his eyes. Beautiful in her movements, in the small things like the curve of her neck, the molten gold in her eyes, how it shines in her markings over her body.

He still feels his breath catch, surprised he doesn't come from the intensity of her body finding release. It makes him slow, but her begging-

He nods. Swallows, and begins to move again, hard, fast, hearing the noise once again of skin slapping skin- he growls, fingers fisting the sheets as he moves because-

He wants her to come again before he does. He wants to bring her to sweet heights, give her everything he can, unaware of this offering- his virginity, his love, his fierceness, his determination, his pleasure-

All of this is a ritual of love and devotion, to be laid at his God's feet. That with three words, John made him hers.

She will come again. She will come again and she will cry out his name as she does, skin aflame with the intensity of her feelings and his. She does not deny his offering and she will not deny his request.

He will feel it, given how intimately they're tied: the growl makes her clench in want, the way his eyes rest on her, love her, want her, enjoy her...

Yes, he gets exactly what he wants and more. And there's little doubt that once he's a little more experienced, has learned how to measure himself (or maybe he never will, maybe it will always be 110% and doesn't that thought almost send her over the edge again) he'll have even more.

But on the third time while her body is rippling around him in waves of intense joy, she pulls him against her and kisses him with a demand that even she's not sure she spoke aloud or not:

"Oscar: with me."

The cry sends a thrill through him. He slows down when she comes, but again, picks up, intense, a little breathless as he pumped his hips.

A part of him is a little surprised he hadn't come again and again, considering how fast he lost it when John went down on him but-

He needs to give her everything he can. Maybe that's why. He was ready to push her for a fourth, keep her crying out, away in pleasure but...the touch helped bring him down. He didn't know if the demand was in his head or not.

But he nodded, burying his face against her neck with a murmur of her name.

The kiss was gentler. The motions still rough, but sweeter, with her, not simply offering himself. And finally, finally, their bodies rubbing together, his breath in a shuddery gasp, Oscar let's go.

It makes him shudder and shake from the intensity, his breath in a shuddery gasp as he breaths "John," into her ear.

She'd been cresting, almost finished with her own shuddering release when he kissed her, and she focuses on the kiss over just the sensation, drinking him in, accepting every ounce of love he intends to offer. When he comes, when she feels him let go inside of her, he'll feel her still, feel her shiver, and she'll draw him in a little more insistently as she rides out her fourth right alongside with him.

"Oscar..."

And she buries her face against temple, soft kisses pressed with his name, all of her becoming pliant and steady as she breathes just past his ear, lets him hear how much he effected her, drove her mad, brought her bliss. One hand lifts just to stroke his cheek.

"My beloved Oscar."

She doesn't sound dazed. She sounds enraptured.

He can feel the third, the fourth as he comes with her. He closed his eyes, feeling now the slickness of sweat on his back, in his hair, his breath coming out in slow, deep pants.

"John..." He turned them so they were laying down, side by side. That way he could stroke her back, nice and warm.

He had no idea he had a smile that was warm, satisfied and a touch smug.

"Lovely John." He stroked her back, over and over. "Thank you. Thank you..."

He does. It's the only reason she doesn't close her eyes, to see that smug little smile, because his hand on her feels just as good.

"Thank you. Mmmmm, that was wonderful. Oscar..."

She might get lost in kissing him for a while. Nothing more than that, but kissing was so good as well.

"Good. Wonderful." He melted against her, kissing her for awhile, enjoying the close contact. They didn't have to make more love, not just then. It was just wonderful to be close and just touching John just then.

But eventually, Oscar pulled away slowly, and pressed his face against her shoulder with a soft, satisfied sigh. He needed to get his breath back, despite the chant before. His heart felt as if it was only now slowing down.

She is just going to gently pet him while he settles down, get his system back into a steady rhythm, relaxes.

Her hand is going to stroke sweetly though his hair.

"Are you happy?"

He nodded, hugging her as much as he could with both arms. He was steadying, but he needed to cling, just a little bit longer.

"Extremely." He told her, nuzzling her skin. He wasn't sure if he'd start crying again. Not because he was sad. Just there had been...so much emotion. "Are you?"

She's not going anywhere.

She nods.

"Very happy." She kisses him again, just a little nuzzle. "You make me very happy. Made me very happy." Another kiss. "Your existence makes me happy."

Oscar made a soft sound- a choked little sob, and he buried his face against her for a few moments, trying to get his breath back.

"John...I'm going to cry again. It's so much." His voice was soft as he kept his eyes pressed against her shoulder.

"You, this place...is this what it's like to be treated as a normal person...?"

She's just going to stroke his hair, the back of his head, and hold him.

"You can cry. It's okay to cry." She pets him a few more times before-

"I don't know the answer to that. I'm not... really... normal." Softer. "But I think this place gives people the chance to be loved when they didn't get that before."

He nodded. John wouldn't know; that was silly of him to ask. He felt a few tears slip out, and he felt himself miss...his people. He missed the Arthur back home, even if he said they couldn't be friends anymore.

A few tears slipped out, and he felt his shoulders shake. For a few moments, he felt so incredibility lonely.

But the warmth of John's hands, over his hair, brought him back to reality. Someone here loved him. Someone cared if he died. Someone cared.

He took in a slow shaking breath, and nuzzled her, kissing her neck.

"You're not, but you're wonderful the way you are." His voice was soft. "Thank you for loving me."

"Thank you for letting me love you." A soft kiss. "Thank you for trusting me with this. And you."

She kisses his brow.

"You're precious. And wonderful. And your love is precious." A softer nuzzle. "Thank you for loving me."

He nodded, giving her a soft kiss back. He took in a slow, shuddering breath, and nuzzled her.

"You're just as precious to me. Thank you for this...for all of it." Another shuddering breath. "I might want to nap for awhile. Is...that all right?"

The body was ready, but the mind needed rest.

She smiles and nods.

"Always, y'maea." A little nudge. "Rest. I'll be here."

"Y'maea?" He murmured, before he got comfortable, closing his eyes. "Thank you."

He drifted into a light doze for awhile. He'd feel better once he had some time to let his emotions and mind settle.

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