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soaps-mohawk · 1 year ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

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*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head.

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.”

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze.

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks.

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.”

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast.

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes.

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.”

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you.

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now.

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence.

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you.

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right.

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress.

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect.

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made.

Nest.

You’re nesting again.

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-”

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.”

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize.

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs.

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances.

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher.

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs.

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin.

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs.

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache.

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers.

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in.

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders.

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress.

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap.

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his.

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words.

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.”

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.”

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself.

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea.

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you.

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs.

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans.

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even.

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked.

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you.

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega.

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.”

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon.

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move.

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you.

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock.

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand.

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?”

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!”

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm.

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices.

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp.

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac.

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to?

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything.

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay.

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door.

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted.

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head.

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him.

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision.

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet.

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.”

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.”

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs.

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back.

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment.

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.”

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity.

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.”

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.”

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.”

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur.

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.”

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay.

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep.

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you.

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still.

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would.

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images.

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly.

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.”

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed.

“What are you going to get?” You ask.

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply.

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!”

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest.

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask.

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours.

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all.

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all.

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you.

“You’re thinking too much again.”

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs.

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side.

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you.

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you.

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.”

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.”

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves.

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours.

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you.

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips.

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room.

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin.

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core.

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you.

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!”

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot.

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.”

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear.

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall.

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you.

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise.

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room.

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired.

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious.

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment.

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side.

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads.

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames.

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass.

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed.

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again.

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower.

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again.

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training.

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head.

He didn’t change his shirt.

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you.

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look.

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening.

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile.

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face.

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.”

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.”

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you.

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.”

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him.

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?”

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork.

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray.

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete.

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor?

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do.

But he didn’t.

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s.

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he.

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do.

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s.

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship.

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him.

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes.

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.”

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway.

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air.

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.”

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?”

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete.

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.”

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM.

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.”

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room.

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass.

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you.

Fuck this is going to be a long training session.

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either.

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp.

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.”

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.”

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you.

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal.

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been.

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.”

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat.

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side.

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?”

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings.

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!”

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache.

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth.

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!”

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release.

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit.

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief.

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud.

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to.

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly.

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.”

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance.

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him.

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you.

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you.

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.”

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise.

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.”

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.”

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot.

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand.

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room.

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs.

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body.

And that was only with his fingers.

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin.

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet.

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again.

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear.

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.”

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.”

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much.

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive.

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.”

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.”

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.”

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds.

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door.

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?”

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another.

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you.

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism.

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.”

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.”

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe.

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book.

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.”

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit.

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.

“Yes, sir.” You respond.

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.”

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up.

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes.

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it.

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire.

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth.

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched.

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause.

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why.

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him.

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.”

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists.

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.”

“What if I can’t stop?”

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.”

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow.

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before.

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin.

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice.

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.”

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh.

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor.

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits.

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.”

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest.

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple.

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple.

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps.

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head.

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts.

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do.

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?”

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed.

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you.

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips.

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him.

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her.

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel.

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea.

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud.

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.”

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water.

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you.

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind.

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door.

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up.

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues.

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you.

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot.

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed.

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again.

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor.

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach.

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way.

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment.

You hadn't even been naked then.

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are.

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight.

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand.

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier.

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back.

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks.

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.”

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone.

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him.

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.”

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in.

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.”

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot.

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going.

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release.

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in.

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.”

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long.

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.”

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock.

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room.

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week.

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal.

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood.

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.”

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge.

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm.

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.”

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress.

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts.

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure.

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper.

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt.

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy.

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass.

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted.

He’s not Simon anymore.

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out.

“Alpha!”

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites

@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos

@konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13

@anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry

@red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving

@slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164

@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

#call of duty #call of duty fic #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x reader #John price x reader #captain John price x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #John soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

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novlr · 5 months ago

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Any tips on how to describe indoor spaces so they feel real and match the vibe of the story without throwing in too much detail?

Getting interior scenes just right is all about finding the balance between setting the mood, showing the unique personality of your story world, and keeping the plot moving. There are lots of ways you can use senses, action, and background to set a scene, all of which can work seamlessly with the type of story you want to tell. Here are some tips on how you can achieve that:

How does it look?

Lighting: does your space contain the soft glow of lamps, harsh fluorescent lights, or natural light?

Use colour and textures like peeling paint, plush velvet, or sleek marble.

Size and scale: is it claustrophobically small or impressively grand?

Architectural features: does the space have high ceilings, crown mouldings, or exposed beams?

Furnishings: are they modern, sparse, antique, or cluttered?

Style and decor: what style is represented, and how does it affect the atmosphere?

State of repair: is the space well-kept, neglected, or under renovation?

Perspective and layout: how do spaces flow into each other?

Unique design features: describe sculptural elements, or things that stand out.

Spatial relationships: describe how objects are arranged—what’s next to, across from, or underneath something else?

How does it sound?

Describe echoes in large spaces or the muffled quality of sound in carpeted or furnished rooms.

Note background noises; is there a persistent hum of an air conditioner, or the tick of a clock?

Describe the sound of footsteps; do they click, scuff, or are they inaudible?

Include voices; are they loud and echoing or soft and absorbed?

Is there music? Is it piped in, coming from a live source, or perhaps drifting in from outside?

Capture the sounds of activity; typing, machinery, kitchen noises, etc.

Describe natural sounds; birds outside the window, or the rustle of trees.

Consider sound dynamics; is the space acoustically lively or deadened?

Include unexpected noises that might be unique to the building.

Consider silence as a sound quality. What does the absence of noise convey?

How does it smell?

Identify cleaning products or air fresheners. Do they create a sterile or inviting smell?

Describe cooking smells if near a kitchen; can you identify specific foods?

Mention natural scents; does the room smell of wood, plants, or stone?

Are there musty or stale smells in less ventilated spaces?

Note the smell of new materials; fresh paint, new carpet, or upholstery.

Point out if there’s an absence of smell, which can be as notable as a powerful scent.

Consider personal scents; perfume, sweat, or the hint of someone’s presence.

Include scents from outside that find their way in; ocean air, city smells, etc.

Use metaphors and similes to relate unfamiliar smells to common experiences.

Describe intensity and layering of scents; is there a primary scent supported by subtler ones?

What can you do there?

Describe people’s actions; are they relaxing, working, hurried, or leisurely?

Does the space have a traditional use? What do people come there to do?

Note mechanical activity; elevators moving, printers printing, etc.

Include interactions; are people talking, arguing, or collaborating?

Mention solitary activities; someone reading, writing, or involved in a hobby.

Capture movements; are there servers bustling about, or a janitor sweeping?

Observe routines and rituals; opening blinds in the morning, locking doors at night.

Include energetic activities; perhaps children playing or a bustling trade floor.

Note restful moments; spaces where people come to unwind or reflect.

Describe cultural or community activities that might be unique to the space.

How is it decorated?

Describe the overall style; is it minimalist, baroque, industrial, or something else?

Note period influences; does the decor reflect a specific era or design movement?

Include colour schemes and how they play with or against each other.

Mention patterns; on wallpaper, upholstery, or tiles.

Describe textural contrasts; rough against smooth, shiny against matte.

Observe symmetry or asymmetry in design.

Note the presence of signature pieces; a chandelier, an antique desk, or a modern art installation.

Mention thematic elements; nautical, floral, astronomical, etc.

Describe homemade or bespoke items that add character.

Include repetitive elements; motifs that appear throughout the space.

What is its history?

Mention historical usage; was the building repurposed, and does it keep its original function?

Describe architectural time periods; identify features that pinpoint the era of construction.

Note changes over time; upgrades, downgrades, or restorations.

Include historical events that took place within or affected the building.

Mention local or regional history that influenced the building’s design or function.

Describe preservation efforts; are there plaques, restored areas, or visible signs of aging?

Describing indoor spaces doesn’t have to feel like a chore. Focus on the details that matter most, tie them to the mood or characters, and let your readers fill in the blanks. A well-crafted space not only sets the scene but builds your character's relationship to it. Use sensory language, background, and action beats to tie it into your narrative, and don’t be afraid to play around with motifs and contradictions, depending on who is experiencing it!

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing tips #writing resources #creative writing #writers #writing #writing community #creative writers #writing inspiration #writerblr #writing advice #writing reference #writers on tumblr #ask novlr #writer

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kryannoy · 1 month ago

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Hello hello!! I Hope your day is good ^^ could I request Sakura and Suo w a reader with ‘nerdier’ interests and collections whos kind of avoided by her/their classmates for it? (Nerdy as in Anime figures, aliens, that kinda stuff!!) I’m not sure if your requests are open or not so if not, my apologies!!

THE "WEIRD" KID IN SCHOOL

genre: fluff, sfw

characters: sakura, suo

a/n: some parts in suo makes me feel contradicting and sad because of how delusional it sounded. the part where they talking about fictional characters when suo himself is fictional 😔

SAKURA HARUKA

Doesn't understand why you like those stuff.

Doesn't understand why you waste your money on figurines and be left in the open that take up space and collect dust.

Doesn't understand why you keep them in the first place.

He would just look at them in confusion with the happy, dancing figurines star back at him.

He doesn't touch them but does take a close look while leaning down with his hands on his knees and ask why.

"Because!" You pause. "Because they look cool and give some vibes to my room."

'Uh huh, yeah, very,' he thought as he looked around your room full of posters of the same kind and a bookshelf full of manga with more trinkets. He doesn't want to sound rude so he decided staying quiet was best. 'Looks just like Kiryu's place.'

After all, who is he to have a say on what your room looked like.

He'll ask you the name of some characters that he somehow has seen before, "Who's this?" He points to a Genshin character as he looks over his shoulder.

"That's Xiao. Did he catch your eye as well?" You grin.

"Not really. He looks the familiar with the one I saw in Kiryu's room."

That was his first experience visiting your room though.

Other days, he'll sit there and listen to you ramble on about a game or anime characters. Or even the newly released episode. Or the plot of an anime or game. Sometimes he'll stuff his face with food, but still pay attention to you, while you waste your saliva.

He'll get confused at first but if you keep talking or following up to the next update, he gets used to it and will comment on his perspective.

One time you watch an action anime with Sakura, he gets frustrated most of the time when the main character gets a hit. Or say the villain is weak if the main character kicks their butt.

DO NOT let him watch ANY anime or show where the main character is weak. It gets to his nerves and you have to hear him complaining instead.

When you're ready to login to a game, he'll ask you, "Are you going to play that game from last time?"

He wants to watch you play the game that you started with him. He wants to know the plot too.

Loves to watch you play Final Fantasy.

Cheers you on beside you during battle and gets frustrated with you when you lose. Breathes a sigh of relief with you when you clear the boss level with a red HP bar.

SUO HAYATO

Does not care if you ramble all day about the things you like.

He loves actually. It's because you have that charm when you talk about them. You're always so passionate and expressive when you talk about the new anime/manga you caught up, or a game you just bought.

He's also another one who happens to be the "Don't look at me with those eyes!" "What eyes?" scenario.

He watches you admiringly as you talk a mile a minute. It's because he knows you don't get to talk about your interests at school that much so he'll lend you his ears.

You showed him a game one time that lets you customize your character. "Look! I made you! You're in the game now," you say as you move the character in a circle and zoom in to his face to give the real Suo a closer look.

He holds back the cuteness aggression he's having.

He was beaming when you proudly showed him your creation. "Wow! You even got the same earrings."

Immediately sits next to you and kisses your temple and then watches you play.

He's still holding back the cuteness aggression when you made the character jump around from how happy you are. He feels so included it touched him.

Definitely watched Link Click and Ne Zha with you. He likes it but laughs even more to see you getting giddy every time the two main characters of Link Click come up on screen.

To be honest, he feels a little jealous to see how in love you are with those two fictional characters or any male characters you fangirl about.

Because you already have him, why let out a pterodactyl scream into the pillow every time the character gets only two seconds of screen time?

But being the mature gentleman he is, he won't be petty. After all, they're not real. And they can't hold you or kiss you like he can. Some of the characters can't even protect you like he can.

"You know, your boyfriend is sitting next to you and holding your hand but you still have the audacity to fangirl about other non-existing guys?" He spoke so softly but the venom pierced through you is unbearable. He only wanted to see your reaction, he doesn't want to hurt any of your feelings.

Now how the heck are you going to answer him?

#wind breaker #windbreaker #wbk #wbk fluff #haruka sakura #haruka sakura x reader #sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader #sakura #sakura haruka fluff #suo fluff #suo #suo hayato fluff #hayato suo #suo x reader #suo hayato #hayato suo x reader

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jungkoode · 2 months ago

Text

THE 25TH HOUR | O8

“𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐒”

"Your coffee is exactly the way you like it, though you do not remember having a preference over it, nor knowing Agent Min's. Just like you don't remember the coffee shop, or the barista. Or how, apparently, certain phrases trigger certain protocols."

next | index

— chapter details

word count: 5,4k

content: coffee details, sugar slander, yoongi hiding the softness (i see u mf), him leaving in the worst moment possible (oh no can you believe that), a barista thinking he's john wick and yoongi showing him he's indeed not (why am i laughing at this i'm so funny), idk fleeing, superpowers, golden tendrils/tentacles/traces and they're sensitive bc i'm a horny slut who loves drama, yoongi explaining his abilities and basically both of them being somewhat stranded.

— author’s note

OKAY OKAY OKAY—wow. phew.

Lemme just say I had to speed write this chapter like I was being chased by CHRONOS itself because I was NOT prepared for y’all to hit the chapter goals in like… two days. TWO. DAYS. Both on Wattpad and Tumblr. Kinda insane honestly but also like… slay Kiki Nation, we are so back.

This was a severe underestimation on my part and it 100% reflects in the goal numbers I set this round. Don’t look at me like that. This is entirely your doing.

NOW. As for this chapter: WOAH. I was so itchy to finally get into some action-packed scenes!!! I know it’s not a full-blown Marvel throwdown or anything but ughhhh I love the way it’s parried with uncovering new truths, a little sprinkling of Yoongi’s abilities, and just the faintest nod at Noma’s. We’re getting there, babies. We’re cooking with unstable temporal gas.

Sci-fi + superpowers = my drug. Inject it directly into my brainstem. This fic is honestly just me going full feral in my favorite genre and I love that you’re all just vibing with the chaos.

And hey—just a heads up—those golden traces / tendrils / tentacles / whatever-the-fuck you wanna call them? Yeah. They’re important. Not just plot-wise.

Oh no. We’re going smut-wards. You remember that little detail about them being sensitive? YEAH. Narrative seed. Planted. You’re welcome, you horny-ass goblins. I love your deranged asses because they are as feral as mine and I respect that.

Anyway. I’m gonna make that man suffer through overstimulation and there’s NOTHING you can do to stop me. Whoops. Who said that??

Godspeed and love. <3

— read on

ao3

wattpad

You’ve never registered an aversion to coffee.

Analysis confirms your preference: black, minimal dilution via milk, zero sweeteners. Sugar introduces an artificial variable, a taste profile your palate rejects as inefficient data.

The cup sits between your hands now, untouched. Heat radiates outwards, a minor thermal signature registering in your system. You stare into the dark liquid, a reflective surface showing nothing but distorted ceiling lights. Your mind searches for a focal point, a problem to solve, but the what remains elusive, fragmented.

Beside you, Agent Min occupies the adjacent stool. His presence is a known variable, yet the proximity registers as… different. Static cling without the static.

His coffee mirrors yours in its lack of sugar, but deviates in the absence of milk. Plain black. Stark. Your internal database flags this information, yet registers no 'new entry' timestamp. It’s data already logged, sourced from… where?

The query returns a null set.

Error. File not found.

“Good?”

The query comes from him. Low frequency, minimal inflection. You lift your gaze, meeting his across the short distance. Dark eyes, partially obscured by mint smudges of hair that have fallen across his forehead.

Analysis identifies a lack of direct eye contact, his focus aimed somewhere near your left temple.

A defensive posture? Or observational?

You tilt your head, a minor adjustment of 15 degrees. Querying his query.

The corner of his mouth flickers. A micro-expression, barely perceptible, suppressed almost instantly. He’s withholding an upward curve, a smile response.

Why?

“I mean you,” he clarifies, voice maintaining its low, even tone. “Not the coffee.”

You redirect your focus to the cup. The brown surface ripples slightly as you shift your weight. You deliberately defocus your vision, blurring the edges of the ceramic rim.

Unconscious action.

Flagged for later analysis.

“Yeah, just…” The sentence terminates prematurely. Insufficient data to complete the thought. Or perhaps, excess data causing system overload.

He mirrors your earlier gesture, head tilting towards you. An eyebrow arches. A non-verbal prompt for continuation. Standard interrogation technique.

“I knew Robin.” The words emerge, low volume, clinical detachment coating the raw data point.

He nods once. A slow, measured movement. No verbal response. He allows the silence to expand, granting you control over the data flow.

“And now he’s gone.” You complete the statement.

Flat delivery. Fact confirmed.

His gaze drops to his own cup. He lifts it, takes a sip. The motion is fluid, economical. He places the cup back down without a sound. Four seconds pass. Five.

“I got him erased.” The statement escapes as a whisper, approximately 17 decibels.

A conclusion reached through flawed logic, yet carrying an unexpected physical weight. Something constricts within your chest cavity, pressure.

His response is immediate. No processing delay.

“No.”

The word is rough, textured like sandpaper against concrete. A rasp that cuts through the low hum.

“CHRONOS got him erased.” He pauses, intake of breath audible. “That’s what they do.”

"I mentioned the temporal anomaly to him." You mutter, the unidentified strain expanding behind your sternum. "Probability suggests that's why they targeted him."

"They were already watching him," he says, voice calibrated to exactly 40 decibels. "Your conversation may have accelerated their timeline, but he was already flagged."

You process this new data point, running probability calculations against known variables.

"How can you be certain?"

His eyes meet yours—pupil dilation increasing by 7.3% in the 0.7 seconds of direct contact.

"Because I've been tracking their erasure patterns for longer than you've been alive."

The statement contains multiple logical inconsistencies.

Agent Min does not look significantly older than you.

Yet your temporal analysis centers don't flag it as a falsehood.

Your glance moves back to the cup.

"Robin kept succulents on his desk," you say, the information surfacing without clear relevance markers. "Three of them. Arranged by height. He watered them every Tuesday at 14:27."

Yoongi's face produces some series of micro-adjustments in 17 distinct facial muscles that combine to form something your pattern recognition identifies as... compassion?

The classification feels incorrect, but alternatives rank lower in probability.

"You're processing grief," he observes, voice modulating to a softer cadence. "It's normal."

The diagnosis feels foreign. Incorrect. Your emotional processing centers operate at 98.7% efficiency. You would recognize grief.

Wouldn't you?

"I barely knew him," you counter. "We shared 17 lunch periods over 4.7 months. Total interaction time: 23.8 hours. Insufficient for meaningful emotional attachment."

Yoongi takes another sip of his coffee. The liquid level decreases by exactly 12 milliliters.

"Grief isn't always logical," he says after 2.3 seconds of silence. "Sometimes it's just... human."

The cadence in his last word triggers some unexpected response in you.

"I'm not experiencing grief," you insist. "I'm experiencing statistical anomalies in my cognitive processing."

His eyes meet yours again—0.9 seconds of contact that somehow feels heavier than its temporal parameters suggest.

"Call it whatever you need to. The result is the same."

Your fingers adjust on the cup again—pressure decreasing by 0.2 kilograms as your muscles unconsciously respond to his voice.

"What is the statistical probability that my conversation with Robin directly caused his erasure?"

Yoongi's expression darkens—brow lowering by 0.4 centimeters, jaw tensing with 31% more force.

"You're looking for a percentage to quantify your guilt," he observes, voice edged. "It doesn't work that way."

"Everything works that way," you argue. "Reality is quantifiable. Causality is measurable. Effect follows cause at precisely calculable intervals."

"Not in the 25th hour. Not with CHRONOS."

Silence spreads as his thumb traces the rim of his cup-three precise rotations counterclockwise. Then, he speaks again, needing to make a point.

"Consistency matters now more than ever. CHRONOS is auditing behavioral patterns with 62% increased scrutiny since last quarter."

You frown. "Source?"

"Erratic temporal enforcement." His finger taps the ceramic once—sharp, percussive. "Fourteen percent spike in memory wipes. Thirty-three percent decrease in Outlier survival rates post-detection."

The numbers land like ice chips down your spine. "Correlation doesn't imply causation."

His eyes narrow by 0.3 millimeters. "You think they're redecorating parks for aesthetic purposes?"

You ignore the rhetorical jab. "Recommended behavioral adjustments?"

"Normalcy. No deviations from established routines. No unscheduled interactions. No..."

His gaze flicks to your hands.

“...idle curiosity."

You follow his line of sight.

Your fingers have been tracing infinity symbols in condensation on the table.

A subconscious pattern emerging at 2.7-second intervals.

"Noted."

You wipe the moisture away with a napkin, friction coefficient registering 0.4 higher than standard paper stock.

"They're cross-referencing biometrics with temporal signatures now. Elevated heart rate during routine scans triggers immediate audits."

Your pulse spikes by 11.2 bpm at the implication. "You're suggesting emotional suppression."

"I'm suggesting survival. Your body can't afford inconvenient truths right now."

The phrase 'inconvenient truths' lodges in your cortex, sparking 37 simultaneous neural queries.

All return access-denied.

"Define 'normalcy' parameters."

"Wake at 06:00. Work until 18:30. Consume 427 calories at designated intervals. Report all temporal irregularities except the ones we cause."

"Compliance seems..." You search for the optimal term. "...counterintuitive to resistance efforts."

“You think rebellion looks like fireworks and manifesto drops?" Leather creaks as he leans closer, mint and ozone sharpening the air between you. "Real resistance happens in the microseconds they don't monitor."

Your retinas capture the exact moment his pupils dilate—3.2% expansion correlating with proximity increase.

"Such as?"

"The 25th hour. The only time they can't see us."

Your watch beeps softly—temporal variance: 0.89%.

He pulls back instantly, posture reset to neutral. "Stick to the numbers. The patterns. The lies they've programmed you to live."

The coffee turns bitter on your tongue, pH shifting by 0.2.

"And you?"

“I'll be the ghost in their machine."

Ghost.

The word settles in your chest, impossibly making it warmer.

Then, the lights flicker—a couple times—as CHRONOS agents pass outside the window. Their shadows stretch across the floor in elongated distortions, limbs warped by the glass's refractive index.

You count their footsteps.

He counts your breaths.

A soft exhale from his lips—a controlled release of 1.2 liters of air over 2.4 seconds.

Rising from the stool, he stretches his neck 37 degrees to the left, then 42 degrees right. The vertebrae produce three distinct clicks at frequencies between 73 and 81 hertz.

His cup sits empty. Yours remains 73% full.

That same suppressed curve at the corner of his mouth does a reappearance.

Your pattern recognition flags it as the third occurrence of this specific micro-expression in the past 18 minutes.

“I need to use the restroom.” His statement is direct, efficient. “Wait here.”

You nod once—a 15-degree downward tilt followed by an equivalent upward correction. Optimal response to a simple directive.

He moves 1.7 meters toward the back of the establishment before pivoting 170 degrees. His eyebrows lift by 0.4 centimeters, creating three distinct lines across his forehead.

“You’ll be okay?”

The question registers as anomalous. Its premise suggests a concern disproportionate to the circumstances. Your brow furrows, creating a 0.3-centimeter depression between your eyebrows.

He shakes his head, dismissing the moment, and disappears behind the door marked RESTROOM—white letters, slightly chipped, 7.2 degrees off center.

You pivot on the stool, body angled toward the counter.

The coffee sits there, cooling. You sip. It’s gone tepid. Your thumb traces the rim, mapping the circumference for the third time.

The bartender approaches. Male, mid-thirties, dark hair, clean apron. Smile at 65% intensity.

“Not a fan of the coffee?” he asks, voice pitched for casual friendliness. “You’ve been staring at it longer than drinking.”

You blink twice. Processing. “No, it’s fine.”

He leans in, elbows on the counter. “You sure? Most people ask for sugar. Or something sweet.”

You shake your head. “I don’t like sweeteners. They distort the baseline flavor profile.”

He laughs, easy. “That’s… specific.”

His gaze lingers, searching for something.

“You come here often? I don’t recognize you.”

You hesitate, brain skipping. “Not that I remember.”

The words fall out, unfiltered. He goes still. Smile vanishes. His hand drops below the counter—movement too smooth.

Cold metal presses to your temple. Soft click.

You catalog the sensation.

Barrel diameter: 9mm.

Temperature: room.

Pressure: firm, not shaking.

His voice drops, all pretense gone. “Don’t move. Don’t speak.”

You comply.

Data input: threat detected.

Output: unknown.

Your retinal sensors register gold first—erratic sparks at 11 o'clock, 43 centimeters from your focal point.

The barista's weapon hand undergoes rapid cellular decay: skin desiccating at 3.7 millimeters per second, muscle tissue liquefying with 92% efficiency. His scream measures 114 decibels—pain response authentic, but temporal signature reveals 0.8-second delay.

Agent Min's grip materializes around your wrist before the decay reaches radial artery. His fingers burn at 39.1°C, golden threads weaving through his leather gloves. The world blurs—not from speed, but temporal interference.

Your internal chronometer confirms: local time dilation of 47%.

"Move." The command vibrates at 87 Hz, bypassing auditory processing to embed directly in your motor cortex.

Your legs comply before conscious thought engages. Adrenaline spikes—17.3% above baseline. The cafe exits warp as you pass, doorframes appearing to bend at 12-degree angles—an optical illusion caused by the temporal distortion field surrounding you.

CHRONOS agents materialize in peripheral vision, their movements unnaturally segmented—3.1 frames per second versus standard 24. Their comms chatter fractures into your awareness:

"—emporal breach Sector 4-Alpha—"

"—arget exhibits Reality Shifter signatures—"

"—containment protocol Theta-7 authorized—"

Yoongi pivots 170 degrees, dragging you into an alley where air molecules vibrate at 0.7x normal frequency. His free hand glows faintly gold, pressed against the brick wall. Mortar ages backward then forward in precise spiral patterns—2.3 revolutions per second, creating a passageway exactly 0.9 meters wide.

"Don't breathe," he warns as you pass through particulate matter suspended in his temporal field.

Your lungs register 14% oxygen decrease.

Insufficient for hypoxia.

Sufficient for discomfort.

The alley deposits you onto a street where Agent Min(?) has slowed time by 23%. Pedestrians move at imperceptible rates, their coffee cups appearing frozen at 37-degree angles. His temporal manipulation leaves gold afterimages—3.2-second persistence in your peripheral vision.

Your Chrono-Sync Watch beeps erratically:

TEMPORAL VARIANCE: 4.89%

ANOMALY DETECTED

His grip tightens—42.7 kilograms of pressure now, necessary to anchor you against increasing temporal distortion. Without his stabilizing touch, you assume your untrained body would suffer severe temporal drag.

"Focus on my voice," he commands, words layered with harmonic frequencies that stabilize your inner ear fluid against the disorienting effects of his temporal field.

CHRONOS drones breach the time dilation field behind you, their propulsion systems screeching at 17 kHz—the exact resonant frequency that makes your temples protest.

They're designed to track and pursue through temporal distortions. You know this from your training, what they taught you. Or at least, what they wanted you to be taught.

But Yoongi never looks back; not even once.

Nature’s lumbar support leaves much to be desired.

The wall at your back is jagged, scraping through your shirt, stone biting into skin. Yoongi’s breath saws out next to you, sharp, furious. He rounds on you, eyes wild, voice pitched higher than baseline.

"What the fuck did you do?"

The question isn't a question—it’s an accusation wrapped in 87 decibels of controlled fury. You straighten 2.3 centimeters, ignoring how the rock tears at your jacket.

“I answered his query within established social parameters."

His laugh is all sharp edges. "Parameters? You told a CHRONOS informant you didn't remember him!"

"Statistical probability suggested—"

"Probability?" He steps into your space, mint and ozone overpowering the cave's damp musk. "They've activated civilian reporting protocols! That bartender was required to log every customer interaction!"

Your pulse spikes-+18bpm. "Unforeseen variable. You didn't brief me on—"

"I literally just said don't deviate from normalcy!" The wall cracks behind him, hairline fractures spreading at 3mm/second. "Normal people don't have memory gaps about coffee shops!"

You catalog the wall damage—microcrystalline structure failure inconsistent with human strength.

Fascinating.

New data point: Agent Min's capabilities exceed known parameters.

"My response was logically sound," you counter. "Approximately 72% of humans experience—"

"Logically suicidal." Gold sparks dance in his irises now. "They train those informants to flag exactly that phrase."

The revelation triggers 23 simultaneous neural queries.

"Why would 'not that I remember' trigger—"

"Because Outliers say it when their memories glitch!" He's closer now, 47cm instead of 72. "Basic fucking tradecraft, Noma."

You flinch at the nickname. "You expect me to intuit unpublished surveillance tactics?"

"I expect you to listen when I say CHRONOS is hunting us." The gold intensifies, threads weaving through his clenched fists. "That man wasn't armed until you turned him into a threat."

"Correlation fallacy." Your voice drops to 19dB. "You lack evidence that—"

The cave wall explodes.

Not literally—just Yoongi's fist connecting with stone 3.2cm from your head. Dust cascades downward as he withdraws his hand, skin unmarred.

"Evidence?" His breath ghosts across your lips, warmer than human biology allows. "You think decay patterns manifest spontaneously?"

Realization crystallizes.

The bartender's rotting hand. The gold threads. The temporal distortion.

Your eyes narrow. "You altered his cellular decay rate."

"To save your statistically suicidal ass."

"Without consent."

"Without options.”

The standoff lasts 4.7 seconds.

"You're an anomaly," he growls. "Stop acting like one."

"Variables require data." You match his glare. "Which you hoard like a fucking dragon."

His hands rake through mint hair, leaving it standing at precisely 47-degree angles.

"Because I have no other fucking choice!" The words explode from him, raw and jagged. "Every piece of information I give you is another potential trigger. Another way for CHRONOS to find you. To erase you. Again."

That word. ‘Again’. He keeps saying it, like it’s something he can’t lodge out of his throat.

Yet, for his incredible powers, he seems unable to prevent what he fears most.

What ‘again’ means to him.

Your eyes narrow, recalculating.

"So your ability..." You pause, watching his muscles tense. "Time manipulation?"

His eyes flick to yours, then away. A non-answer that answers everything.

"You aged his hand by 70 years, at minimum." Your voice steadies as you shift to analysis mode. "Accelerated cellular decay, targeted temporal field. Fascinating."

"83 actually." The correction is automatic. Petulant. He slides down the wall beside you, knees cracking at 73 and 81 hertz. "Time Anchor. That's the technical classification."

You catalog the term, cross-referencing against known temporal phenomena.

No matches found.

"I can't create or destroy time." His voice drops, rougher now. "I can only... redistribute it. Accelerate decay in one place, slow it in another."

Your fingers twitch with the urge to document, to measure. "Conservation of temporal energy."

"Something like that." He flexes his right hand, and you notice the faint gold shimmer beneath his skin—network of lines like circuitry, pulsing at 0.7-second intervals. "Every action has a cost."

"The gold." You gesture toward his hand. "Temporal bleed?"

His eyebrow lifts 0.3 centimeters. "For someone who claims to know nothing, you make impressive leaps."

"Pattern recognition is my primary function." You shift, angling your body 12 degrees toward his. "What's the cost?"

His laugh lacks humor, registering at 42% below standard mirth indicators.

"Depends on what I'm doing. Age someone's hand? Minor headache, maybe some joint pain. Stop time completely?" He taps his temple. "Migraines that would kill a normal person."

You process this, calculating energy transfer ratios.

"And the 25th hour?"

"That's different." His voice drops another 3 decibels. "That's not me. That's... a system error. Something CHRONOS never accounted for."

"That you exploit."

"That we exploit." He corrects, eyes meeting yours. "Some of us, anyway."

"How many like you exist?"

"Time Anchors?" He shrugs, the movement exact despite its casual appearance. "Only me, that I know of.”

The admission feels sad.

Terribly lonely.

"And me?"

The question emerges before your logic centers can evaluate its prudence; and his eyebrows twitch, eyes staring directly onto the ground.

"You're something else entirely."

"Define 'something else,'" you request, shifting your position against the wall to better observe him.

The movement causes a minor increase in discomfort—rock surface irregularities creating pressure points along your vertebrae.

But they do not register as important in the face of acquiring new information.

Agent Min finally exhales—which suggests internal debate about information disclosure parameters.

"I can show you," he says finally, voice dropping. "But you need to understand that what I'm about to do is extremely detectable. If there are any CHRONOS agents within 400 meters, they'll register it."

You calculate risk factors, weighing variables against known CHRONOS response protocols.

"Current location provides approximately 87% concealment from standard monitoring," you observe. "Probability of detection: 13.2%."

His mouth quirks—almost-smile that never fully materializes.

"Always with the numbers," he mutters, but it doesn't register as annoyance—rather something warmer.

He extends his right hand, palm up, and focuses his attention on it with an intensity that alters his breathing pattern by 0.4 seconds per cycle.

At first, nothing happens.

Then—

Gold.

Liquid light emerges from his fingertips, tendrils of energy that move with fluidity. They spiral outward in clockwise rotations, creating phenomenons that defy any standard classification parameters.

Your pupils dilate by approximately 28%, heart rate increasing by 17 beats per minute.

"Temporal energy," he explains, voice steady despite the obvious energy expenditure. "Direct manifestation of my ability."

The golden traces move like extensions of himself, responding to minute shifts in his focus. They emit no measurable heat signature yet appear fluid, almost liquid in their movement patterns.

"Fascinating," you breathe, leaning closer to observe better. "How do they work? What's their composition? Can they interact with physical matter or are they purely energetic manifestations?"

Your questions tumble out in rapid succession, each one triggering three more in your mind. The analytical part of you wants to measure, catalog, understand—but something else, something less quantifiable, simply wants to touch.

He watches you cautiously, measuring your reaction.

"They're extensions of temporal force," he explains. "I can manipulate objects through their timeline states—age them forward or backward, freeze them in their current temporal position."

The golden traces curl and twist above his palm, creating complex patterns that seem to follow mathematical principles.

"Can I—" You hesitate, unusual break in your typically decisive speech pattern. "Would contact damage them? Or me?"

"No damage," he says carefully. "But they're... sensitive."

The word choice seems odd, triggering your curiosity further.

"Sensitive how?" you press, eyes tracking the golden movements.

He sighs—perhaps denoting exhaustion.

"They're direct extensions of my temporal energy. I feel what they feel."

You process this information.

"Like nerve endings," you suggest.

"Yeah… Something like that."

Decision made, you extend your hand toward the nearest tendril, moving slowly to allow him time to withdraw if needed.

He doesn't.

Your fingertip makes contact with the golden energy.

The sensation is... unexpected.

The trace feels solid yet fluid simultaneously, warm without heat, substantial without mass. But what registers most prominently is Yoongi's immediate reaction—sharp intake of breath, pupils dilating by approximately 32%, micro-tremor in his left hand.

You pull back instantly, recalculating.

"Did that hurt?" you ask, cataloging his physiological responses.

"No." His voice drops by 2.7 hertz. "Not hurt."

No further clarification.

Your own pulse increases by another 8 beats per minute in response.

Oh.

You reach out again, this time with intent, and trace your finger along the golden tendril. It responds to your touch, curling around your fingertip like it's greeting you.

Yoongi's breathing pattern alters—inhalation extending by 0.7 seconds, exhalation shortening by 0.4.

"They recognize you," he says, voice rougher than before.

"That's impossible," you counter automatically. "We've never interacted like this before."

His eyes meet yours, holding for 2.3 seconds—longer than his usual 0.8-second maximum.

"They recognize you," he repeats, simply.

The golden trace wrapped around your finger pulses slightly, the rhythm matching your heartbeat with 97.3% synchronicity.

"What else can they do?" you ask, scientific curiosity temporarily overriding everything else.

He flexes his fingers slightly, and the traces extend further, creating a complex network of golden energy between you.

"They can interact with physical objects," he demonstrates, directing a tendril toward a small rock.

The stone ages rapidly, crumbling to dust in 3.2 seconds. Another rock reverts to its geological past—crystallizing into a perfect quartz formation.

"Temporal manipulation at a distance," you observe, mind going through all possible applications, limitations, variables.

"Yes."

You watch as the traces move with increasing confidence around you, never touching without your initiation, but clearly... aware of your presence.

"And these are unique to Time Anchors?" you ask, testing another hypothesis.

"Each type of Outlier has their own manifestation," he says carefully. "Mine happens to be temporal, and in tendrils of different sizes."

You detect deliberate vagueness, information being withheld.

"What's mine?"

The traces flicker briefly, responding to some change in his emotional state.

"That's something you'll have to discover yourself," he says finally.

You frown, dissatisfied with the non-answer.

"More cryptic responses. Inefficient communication strategy."

His mouth quirks again.

"Some things can't be told, Noma. They have to be experienced."

You reach out again, this time allowing your entire hand to pass through the network of golden energy. The traces respond immediately, wrapping around your fingers, sliding between them.

Yoongi's breath catches, the sound barely audible at 17 decibels.

"These are... remarkably sensitive," you observe.

"Yes." The word emerges strained, tightly controlled.

A hypothesis forms. You test it by deliberately trailing your fingers through the traces with a bit more pressure.

His reaction is immediate—pupils dilating to 7.1 millimeters, pulse visible at his throat increasing to approximately 92 beats per minute, a muscle in his jaw tensing with 47% more force.

"Interesting," you murmur, filing away this reaction for future analysis.

"We should stop," he says, voice rougher than before. "Extended manifestation increases detection risk."

Logical. Rational.

Yet you find yourself strangely reluctant to end the experiment.

"One more question," you negotiate, still not withdrawing your hand from the golden network. "Why do they move in clockwise patterns specifically?"

His eyes meet yours again, unreadable.

"Because that's how time moves," he says simply. "Forward. Clockwise."

You correlate with your observations.

"And if something moved counterclockwise?" you ask, the question emerging from some intuitive part of your mind rather than your analytical centers.

The traces flicker again, responding to something in his emotional state.

"That would be something else entirely," he says, echoing his earlier statement.

Before you can press further, he withdraws, the golden traces retracting into his skin. The absence leaves the air feeling strangely empty, lacking some vital element you hadn't noticed until it was gone.

Your fingertips tingle with residual sensation—a ghastly feeling you don’t know how to categorize but for some reason find yourself missing.

"We need to move," he says, voice returning to its normal cadence. "We've stayed in one place too long."

He is right.

You don’t know why you still want to touch those golden traces.

You rise instead, calculating the most efficient exit route while your mind continues processing this new data point: Agent Min’s golden traces recognize you, despite having no logical reason to do so.

Another anomaly to add to your growing collection.

He presses his right wrist with two fingers, applying precisely 2.1 kilograms of pressure to the outer edge of his Chrono-Sync Watch. The device responds with a soft sound—around 17 decibels, so barely perceptible even in the cave's acoustic environment.

A holographic display materializes 4.7 centimeters above the watch face, projecting a three-dimensional map of Sector 4 with pulsing red markers scattered across its surface.

You lean forward, immediately registering the discrepancy: standard Chrono-Sync Watch models lack holographic projection capabilities.

"What is that?"

Yoongi doesn't look up, his focus entirely on the floating map as he rotates it 37 degrees with a precise finger movement.

"Modified," he says simply, the explanation as efficient as always. "I told you."

You study the hologram, cataloging design parameters and technical specifications with automatic precision.

"Quantum-projection module integration into a Chrono-Sync interface would require bypassing at least seven encryption protocols," you observe, mind already mapping the engineering challenges. "The power requirements alone would necessitate a modified lithium cell with 347% increased capacity. Not to mention the spatial compression algorithms needed to maintain holographic integrity without..."

Your analysis trails off as your eyes meet his over the floating display. The corner of his mouth twitches once more.

"You helped create this," he says quietly, fingers still moving through the projection.

The statement registers, but fails to connect with any accessible memory database.

"I did not." Your contradiction emerges automatically, precisely calibrated to express certainty.

He doesn't argue. Doesn't press. Simply continues manipulating the map with those agile, gloved fingers, eyes occasionally flicking to your face as if contemplating your reaction.

Silence expands between you for exactly 4.3 seconds before your curiosity overrides caution.

"Where are we going?" you ask, redirecting the conversation away from memory discrepancies that trigger uncomfortable neural responses.

"I'm mapping our closest access point," he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

His index finger traces a route through the holographic streets, calculating distances with the same analytical precision you recognize in yourself.

"We need to reach one of the travel spots within the next 37 minutes. Our temporal signature trail is too fresh after that... incident."

"Travel spots?"

You catalog the unfamiliar terminology, cross-referencing against known CHRONOS lexicon.

No matches found.

Yoongi's fingers pause at exactly 23 degrees northeast of your current position. His throat works—a slight contraction suggesting hesitation.

"I..."

His voice hovers over the simple noun. He swallows once, recalibrating.

"Travel spots are access points," he continues, voice modulated in a way that suggests internal editing. "Strategic locations throughout the city that allow direct transport to the 7th Hour headquarters."

"Teleportation technology? That's theoretically impossible given current quantum limitations."

"Not teleportation. Temporal-spatial warping." His finger taps a pulsing blue marker on the map. "These portals use existing weak points in CHRONOS's reality grid."

Theoretical models. Probability factors. Energy requirements.

"The energy necessary to maintain stable reality tunnels would exceed—"

"That's why they're not tunnels," he interrupts, eyes still fixed on the map. "They're more like... doors. Open only when needed, closed immediately after use."

You lean closer, studying the blue markers. Their distribution follows no discernible pattern—a deliberate randomization algorithm to prevent predictive tracking.

"Why can't CHRONOS detect them?" you ask, probing for weaknesses.

"They can detect the activation," he answers, voice tightening slightly. "But not follow through. The portals are specially calibrated to recognize Outlier temporal signatures. Anyone else attempting to pass through would trigger an immediate collapse."

You frown, recalculating. "But my temporal signature is registered in the CHRONOS database. Wouldn't that trigger their defense systems?"

His eyes flick to yours briefly—0.7 seconds of direct contact.

"Your official signature is a fabrication. The real one..." He pauses, choosing his words with unusual care. "The real one is already authorized in our system."

Another anomaly to catalog.

Another fragment that doesn't fit your accessible memory database.

"So we access one of these points, and it transports us directly to your headquarters?" you confirm, redirecting toward practical logistics.

"Yes." He closes the holographic display with an easy gesture. "But we need to be careful. After what happened at the coffee shop, they'll be scanning for temporal disturbances with heightened sensitivity."

You tilt your head, considering.

"And why haven't you contacted your team? Surely they could provide assistance or extraction."

His eyes flicker to you. Presses his lips together. Then, answers.

"Communications are compromised in this sector," he explains. "Any encrypted transmission would register on CHRONOS monitoring systems. They'd triangulate our position within 3.7 seconds."

"Your golden traces," you observe, connecting variables. "The temporal display at the coffee shop would have triggered every sensor within 1.5 kilometers."

"Precisely why we need to move quickly." He cracks his neck again, just like he did back in the coffee shop. "Our window is closing. That display was necessary but costly from a strategic perspective."

Your mind reconstructs the coffee shop incident—the bartender's decay, the golden traces, the immediate pursuit.

"You risked substantial exposure to extract me," you state, the realization forming fully. "Statistically, that decision carried a 78.3% probability of compromising your entire operation."

He doesn’t explain. Doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t try to correct you. Just lets silence stretch for three seconds.

"Some variables outweigh probability," he says finally.

"I still don't understand why you can't simply use your temporal abilities to transport us directly. If you can manipulate time—"

"I manipulate time, not space," he sighs. "I can slow it, accelerate it, even stop it briefly. But I can't move through it. That's..."

He hesitates again, that same weighted pause.

"That's a different ability entirely."

You catalog this limitation, updating your mental model of his capabilities.

"And these portals combine both temporal and spatial manipulation," you deduce, connecting data points.

"Yes." The confirmation is clipped, efficient. "They were designed specifically to compensate for the limitations of individual Outlier abilities."

"Designed by who?"

His eyes meet yours again—1.4 seconds this time, 75% longer than his usual pattern.

"By us," he says simply.

The pronoun registers with unexpected weight.

Us. Collective. Collaborative.

You and him.

Your Chrono-Sync Watch beeps softly: Temporal variance: 1.07%.

"We need to move," he says, already turning toward the cave entrance. "The nearest travel spot is 1.7 kilometers northeast. If we maintain optimal pace while avoiding main thoroughfares, we should arrive within the acceptable window."

You follow, legs automatically adjusting to match his stride, body responding to cues your conscious mind hasn't processed.

Another anomaly. Another piece of the puzzle.

You catalog it alongside all the others, building your database of inconsistencies, contradictions, and inexplicable familiarities.

Someday, you'll find the pattern that connects them all.

But for now, you follow the ghost with golden traces, moving through a city that feels increasingly like a simulation with every step.

goal: 250 notes

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thatfandomslut · 1 year ago

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Kiss Me Harder

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Trigger Warnings: SMUT, 18+!!! Power Bottom Regina, Soft Top Reader, fingering (Regina receiving), oral (Regina receiving), thigh riding (reader receiving). There is a plot, and it is almost a slowburn to it.

Request:

can i request a regina george x reader smut with bottom regina ?

Mean Girls (2024) requests are open.

(Y/n) would consider herself lucky to be paired up with Regina George for the dorms at Harvard University. Not only that, but they shared several freshman courses, and were able to work on homework and study together. (Y/n) admired the way Regina seemed to know exactly what she wanted. She was ambitious and beautiful. (Y/n) could also appreciate how cutthroat Regina could be. Similarly, Regina appreciated how spontaneous and carefree that (Y/n) was. Unlike her cutthroat attitude, (Y/n) seemed to follow the vibes of the people around them. Which was why they worked so well together.

Their first kiss was during a long night of studying for their Biology 101 class. They had thrown pillows and blankets on the fuzzy rug they picked out together in the center of their room. Regina had lit up some candles, hoping to ensure that there was a calming aroma around them. They began to exchange candy as a point system for every right question, but it wasn't long before they seemed to run out of candy. "What if, for every right answer, you kiss me." (Y/n) teased, a smirk dancing on her lips as she looked over to Regina. They often flirted shamelessly with each other. However, something was different about the atmosphere in the air.

Regina could only lick her lips briefly before looking back over to (Y/n), mirroring the smirk. How could she refuse an offer like that? "Deal," Regina confirmed. (Y/n) still didn't expect her to go through with it. They were always exchanging flirty quips such as those. "Name three domains of species for me." Regina let her cool blue eyes flicker across (Y/n) face. There was recognition to the question, and she realized how easy this question was. Regina seemed to be going easy on her.

(Y/n) leaned in slightly, watching Regina's eyes continue to glide along her face to her lips before meeting (Y/n)'s eyes. With a cheeky smile, (Y/n) allowed her lips to ghost Regina's, and their breaths mingled. "Bacteria, archaea, and eurkarya," she answered in a whisper. She was about to pull away, but Regina beat her to the action, kissing her deeply. (Y/n)'s eyes widened, but it only took her seconds to melt into Regina's lips easily. That led to several dates, make-out sessions on their twin-sized dorm beds, and the official label of 'girlfriends.'

As final exams were getting closer, (Y/n) and Regina could conclude that they weren't ready. They were ready for the exams, studying became fun due to their new point system. The problem was those three weeks spent apart. The two had almost become inseparable over their semester romance. Eventually, Regina realized she could just invite (Y/n) to stay over the holidays. The question came after pushing their beds together the night before, the two lay together sleepily, having been up studying for a couple of hours prior. "What if you just spent some of your breaks with me? I could convince my dad to fly you out to North Shore after Christmas." Regina offered, her head resting calmly on (Y/n)'s chest.

(Y/n) smiled at the thought, playing with Regina's hair. "Okay, but I don't think I could ask you to pay for my ticket. I will probably have to talk to my parents about it, too, but I can call them tomorrow. I don't think they'd be opposed to it." (Y/n) spoke softly, finding herself having to make sure to stay awake during their conversation. She was drifting off just moments ago before Regina brought her idea up.

Regina lifted her chin, moving to a spot where she could kiss (Y/n) on the nose softly. "Baby, I insist. It would be no problem whatsoever. Consider it as part of your Christmas gift if you have to." Regina stated simply, knowing she wasn't going to let (Y/n) spend a dime. She was someone who enjoyed spoiling her significant other, though (Y/n) would make sure to slip some money in Regina's book bag or make sure to get the bill first. She always felt a bit guilty, even if she knew Regina was a lot more well-off than her. Nodding sleepily, (Y/n) knew she wouldn't win this. Regina grinned before cuddling back into her girlfriend as the two fell asleep.

Finals week flew by in a breeze of late nights and several coffee orders. At the end of finals, (Y/n) and Regina dreaded leaving their dorms. With their bags packed, they were forced to separate. Fortunately, this was only for a week. Despite this, they were sending messages back and forth, expressing how much they had already missed each other. Some might judge and describe their relationship as clingy, but neither of them really cared what anyone else thought. They were happy, and that was what mattered.

After Christmas came around, (Y/n) found herself anxiously awaiting the twenty-seventh. The best Christmas gift she could receive was to already be flying to see Regina. She was excited because Regina said she was going to introduce her to her friends, Gretchen, Karen, and Cady. All of whom (Y/n) has heard a lot about. Not only that, but her parents were going on a trip, so they were going to have the entire place to themselves for a couple of days. This excited (Y/n) because they would finally be able to spend alone time without college work somehow having to be done at some point in the night. Now, they could be together without any academic distractions between them. Especially because in their last few study sessions, their point system kept becoming more heated before realizing they had to get back to the task at hand. In fact, they had to go back to the candy system in order to remain on track.

When the time finally came for their reuniting, (Y/n) felt excitement fill her the whole way to the airport and the whole plane ride. Regina was waiting for her at the bottom of an escalator in white light pink turtle neck and a tan trench coat kept her warm. (Y/n) couldn't help but admire her as the escalator descended. "Hey, beautiful," (Y/n) greeted with a bright smile as she finally was able to make her way to the blonde. Regina flipped some of her blonde hair over her shoulder with a smile, planting a kiss on (Y/n)'s lips. "Looks like someone missed me." (Y/n) teased as they pulled apart.

Regina shook her head as she rolled her eyes playfully. "Shut up, loser," she joked before taking (Y/n)'s hand and leading them to her jeep. (Y/n) followed Regina, and admired her Jeep as they drove. "I can't wait to give you your Christmas gift. I think you're going to love it." Regina expressed as she parked in front of a large home. (Y/n) felt slightly insecure when she realized how wealthy Regina's family must be in order to afford this in the current economy. Choosing not to speak about it, she followed Regina into her home and to her room. She did remember the discussion of convincing her parents to give her the biggest bedroom in the house, but she wasn't expecting it to be as big as it was. Looking around as Regina put (Y/n)'s bag in her closet, (Y/n) looked over at all the photos on the wall with a smile.

"The girl with ginger hair is Cady, the girl with honey-blonde hair is Gretchen, and then the dark brown-haired girl is Karen." She pointed to each person, having walked up behind (Y/n) as she looked. (Y/n) listened intently as Regina told her some things about the group. (Y/n) could appreciate a tight-knit group from high school having hung out with some of her high school friends over the last week. "I think you're going to love them."

Regina fell back on her bed, grinning over to (Y/n). "I'm sure I will," (Y/n) agreed before slipping out of her shoes and joining Regina happily. "I missed you," (Y/n) whispered as she moved close to Regina. Regina grinned at this before kissing the girl happily. It was one of the best kisses they ever shared. This was probably because they weren't forced to return to studying afterward. It might also be because they were allowing each other's hands to roam each other's bodies as they deepened the kiss. (Y/n)'s breath hitched slightly as Regina's hands found her breasts over her shirt. She was surprised, but she was waiting for this moment. There was a lot of built-up tension still from their finals week.

"Is this okay?" Regina inquired, not wanting to do anything without consent. (Y/n) got out a shaky yes. This was something she wanted more than anything. Regina smiled softly before kissing (Y/n) deeply. (Y/n) moaned softly in the kiss, allowing herself to move so she could straddle Regina's hips. A position they had found themselves in several times in the past. (Y/n)'s hips ground gently against Regina's as she gasped in pleasure. "(Y/n), I want to keep going. I want to make love to you."

(Y/n) smiled softly, kissing her softly. "I want that, too." She was happy that Regina communicated this, because she was ready, too. Pulling at Regina's top, she pulled it off. Regina doing the same for (Y/n) quickly. It wasn't long before their clothes made a small pile on the floor and (Y/n) was kissing Regina as her hands massaged her breasts. "Kiss me harder, you don't have to be so soft with me," Regina whispered on her lips. (Y/n) was happy to oblige, kissing Regina deeper as their tongues fought for dominance. (Y/n) kissed down Regina's body, momentarily asking if Regina was sure once more. Once Regina answered with a quick yes, (Y/n) let her lips latch onto Regina's breasts, sucking at the nipple between her teeth.

Regina's moan filled the room as one of (Y/n)'s hands made its way down, massaging Regina's clit. Regina cursed loudly as her hands found their way into (Y/n)'s hair. "Fuck, (Y/n), don't stop." She told her. (Y/n) tried not to smirk, but failed that mission as she inserted a finger, rubbing at Regina's G-spot in a way that caused the blonde's back to arch. "Faster, baby," Regina moaned out to the best of her ability as (Y/n) sped up to Regina's liking. "Just like that, you're fucking perfect." Regina could already feel herself close to her climax as (Y/n) made love to her. This was unlike any sex she had ever experienced before. She felt her leg shaking as (Y/n) drew her closer. Announcing her climax, she felt herself cum over (Y/n)'s fingers. Her hand gripped the arm that kept (Y/n) upright as she cried out in pleasure as (Y/n) continued to help her ride out her high.

Regina counted herself lucky as (Y/n) felt like this wasn't enough. She needed to make Regina cum again. Kissing down the rest of Regina's body, she found her face between the girl's thighs. Regina's head fell back as (Y/n) sucked her clit. She was already sensitive, so she knew it wasn't going to take (Y/n) long to make her cum again. "Fuck, you're doing great, please don't stop." Regina wasn't someone to say 'please' unless she wanted something. And that something was for (Y/n) to continue to fuck her until she saw stars. Which, she was very close to as she felt herself grow closer once more. "I'm going to cum, baby." She got out, and (Y/n) continued. As Regina came, (Y/n) made sure to clean her all up. Which, to Regina, was the hottest thing that had ever happened to her. Which said a lot about (Y/n)'s skills, in the long run.

"Come ride my thigh, baby. I want to help you cum, too." Regina had remembered from a discussion they had during one of their late-night deep dives that (Y/n) was someone who enjoyed thigh riding. (Y/n) kissed her, Regina receiving a taste of herself as (Y/n) straddled Regina's hips. "Perfect, baby, just like that. Mommy will help you."

(Y/n) smiled down at Regina as her hands took hold of (Y/n)'s breasts, pinching and twisting at the nipples delicately. (Y/n) moaned at Regina's actions, her hips moving back and forward. "You feel so good, Regina." She said, pleasure warming up her entire body. She moaned as Regina instructed her to continue. She listened to whatever Regina told her to do as she felt herself getting closer to her orgasm. "I'm going to cum, Mommy." She said in between moans. Regina smirked at this, her hands falling to (Y/n)'s hips gently.

"Cum for me," Regina's tone in her voice brought (Y/n) to her orgasm as she rocked on Regina's thigh to ride it out. "That's it, baby. Keep going for as long as you need. You did so good."

(Y/n) finished before laying next to Regina, both girls in a moment of bliss. They were seeing stars as their fingers found each other, intertwining under the sheets that (Y/n) pulled over them after a chill made its way through the air. The two found themselves there for a long moment before pulling each other close and holding each other's clammy bodies together. Neither minded as they smiled to themselves, Regina's head tucked under (Y/n)'s chin. Their cuddles became their version of aftercare. The two didn't mean to, but they ended up falling asleep like that, not caring about their clothes still piled on the floor.

#regina george x reader #regina george #regina george smut #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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shiftinghoesblog · 6 months ago

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yapping about my drs ❕❕

okay so this was a request from one of my moots to do this so yeah!!

i have no clue where to start, but i’ll talk about some of my desired realities that i shift to, but probably mainly non group shift ones, so personal ones 🫦

INFLUENCER

- this is one of my most recent drs i’ve been scripting and not gonna lie the main reason i’m shifting here is because of my man 🤭 he cosplays gojo... so you probably know as to why but besides the point, i was raised a nepo baby and younger sister to meghan thee stallion. i am a content creator, influencer (duh), fashion designer and i live with my s/o in the upper east side of new york🗽. i scripted that my first shift will be during christmas eve because who wouldn't wanna experience the city that never sleeps during the festive season and with your partner 😩 it’s gonna be the dream. i have a mad crazy friend group but i love them all because we’re so hot, cool and sexy. i did script that megan’s parents are still alive in my dr so let’s not worry about that. 💀 i dreamt about this dr a couple of times actually and about my s/o 😍, a couple of my friends. really looking forward to this dr.

OUTER BANKS

- i think i shifted here like twice or a couple of times but didn't realise it because i did mention to y’all about chilling with kiara and sarah, another time i did find myself surfing like literally just living the life through the waves and my ass thought it was a dream. looking back i doubt it was, in many instances to be honest. in this dr i am the sister to kiara and my s/o is pope 😌 i grew up a kook but i transitioned to a pogue when i joined the others. i’m the reason behind kiara and sarah making up and i’m close with rafe since kiara and sarah were best friends and probably would have sleepovers together. i scripted that cleo’s lesbian lmao 😭 you know why. i wiped the plot out a little and also made everyone graduate already so that school is out of the way when hunting for the gold.

AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

yep, i have an atla dr yay! in this dr i’m the oldest sister to kiara and sokka. i’m a waterbending master and my s/o’s zuko??? enemies to lovers kinda vibe. definitely part of the gaang and i’m shifting here because atla is part of my childhood. i have the ability to also create ice and other powerful combat skills so i can't wait to experience this universe.

LEGENDS OF KORRA

i also have a lok dr because why not, i’m the little sister to korra the avatar but i’m gonna prove to everyone that i’m also capable to make a difference and i scripted that i can blood bend.. so ain't no one gonna touch me as well still being able to water bend. my s/o is bolin because he’s so underrated for real.

THE ORIGINALS

in this dr, i’m a hybrid so vampire and werewolf and an adopted mikealson. i live in new orleans and my parents are rebekah and marcel even though their not my bio parental figures because they are already dead 💀. also hopefully i can survive when dahlia comes in because i scripted that my first shift will be during season 2 😓 well shit wish me luck y’all. at least i’ll get to see baby hope aw.

FAME

i have a fame dr because i love attention 🥰 my main profession is being an actor and i’m known for my role in the vampire diaries. i also play robin in the one piece live action and act in many more projects, a nepo baby in this dr too because almost all my family members are well-known. my s/o is caleb mclaughlin? he plays lucas in stranger things and our characters in the show dated so that’s how our relationship sparked.

TWILIGHT

i love talking about drs so yeah i have a twilight dr where when i first shift, i’ll be human but i get turned by a villain in order to send the cullens (my friends) a warning like it’s “game on” so i’m gonna have to mentally prepare myself because i’m gonna basically die 😭 lmao. my s/o is jacob because i’m team jacob simple and it’s a slow burn 😀 woop woop.

ROYAL

I guess this blog will be updated regularly because I have a new and quite recent dr I just finished scripting like the other day. this reality is basically me being a soon-to-be queen princess and thinking about if the one piece live action × royalty had a mashup?? yeah, it's that. I'm shifting back to the 1600s-1800s which is where this dr is set, so I'm really excited about this one.

NEPO BABY

In this reality that I plan on shifting to, I was inspired by a wholesome dream I once had, I am the youngest daughter to Micheal B. Jordan and Jourdan Dunn, my siblings are Tyla and Damson Idris. I am a nepo baby in this reality, and I am part of the ATLA Live Action cast. I wanna live the ravish job-free life.

SOME OTHER DRS

waiting room - i plan on permashifting here, chill, script, feel free, play with my cat, breath fresh air.

better cr - a better version of my cr and my s/o is jiung from p1harmony, i live with jenna ortega, i attend a boarding school in london, i also model.

wednesday - i’m the sister to bianca and my s/o is kent, i’m a siren and psychic medium.

fate: the winx saga - it’s so underrated i see no one shift here but it’s like the winx live action adaption on netflix, the only dr where i didn't script an s/o.

ateez - my s/o is san and i’m the only female and 9th member, main rapper, performer and maknae.

streamer - i go by lemonpie and my s/o is cory kenshin 😚.

victorious - grew up watching it and i’m andre’s sister.

soloist - i’m a k-pop soloist in this dr and my s/o is blackpink jisoo (yes I’m wlw) she’s so 😍😍😍.

singles inferno - this is a dating reality tv show but at the end of it i end up with wonho (ex. monsta x) i’m besties with song jia.

GROUP SHIFTS

not gonna lie they piss me off if they don’t put the damn effort

one piece (anime) - so far my most enjoyable one is the one piece (anime) shared dr because we talk almost everyday. anywho my s/o is sanji ahhh my vinsmoke baby! i’m the little sister to the asl brothers and my devil fruit is similar to aokoiji so ice ect. i am part of the straw hats and joined them during the alabasta arc.

kard - the k-pop co-ed group basically, me and the person barely talk so you see why i prefer my personals drs.. yeah. my s/o is enhypen’s jay 😍 and my positions are sub-rapper, sub-vocalist, producer and maknae. i’m always a maknae in k-pop group drs for some reason 😭.

the legacies - person dipped on me and didn't even fill any of their sections so! i’m poly with hope and josie, i’m a werewolf and witch.

harry potter - i’m the head girl of slytherin and my s/o’s draco, i scripted fred’s death out. also shifting to the half-blood prince era.

teen wolf - i’m a tribrid in this dr so i’m gonna be unstoppable!

the vampire diaries - a bennett witch, cousin to bonnie.

one piece (live action) - i’m a phoenix hybrid in this dr and also part of the straw hats, grew up around shanks.

romance - umm this dr ticks me off low-key because the person that i’m group shifting with ghosts me 😝 i didn't script an s/o for a reason i’m just gonna ditch them for jonathan daviss 💀💀💀 like imagine fumbling manon (I'm shifting as manon from katseye in this dr) i don’t want that person as my s/o anymore and like we’re “friends” here, miss me with that shit.

my hero academia - the group shift is dead bro no one is fucking talking in the group chat, one of them quit shifting, the other i was pfp matching with changed their damn pfp without telling me. script ain't finished too, they all called it a day. and y'all wonder why i don't wanna join no group shift no more.

this was lengthy but y’all asked to yap about my drs other than jujutsu kaisen which you already know about that dr and spill some tea so i did exactly that, i hope you enjoyed and this better not flop, i spent hours typing this 🥳.

@angelic-daiquiri

#shiftblr #reality shifting #shifters #shifting community #desired reality #shifting antis dni #shifting #anti shifters dni #permashifting #group shifting #shifting to desired reality #shfting motivation #dr dreams #law of assumption #shifting storytimes #jjk shifting

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dangermousie · 7 months ago

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2024 list - cdrama edition

Yes, it's cdrama world so even though December is halfway though, they may drop 10 more dramas I will check out between now and 2025. But if I wait, this will never get done and it can always be updated, so here we go. This has been one of the best cdrama years for me!

This is only going to cover cdramas that aired in 2024; if I watched it but it was made in a different year, it’s not on the list. As always, very subjective.

DRAMAS WATCHED

(In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)

61 My Divine Emissary - it’s actually a pretty good drama year when the worst cdrama I’ve checked out this year is merely utterly shrill and brain dead but not horrifyingly offensive to good taste.

60 Are You the One - no you are not. There are objectively worse dramas I've ranked higher but this is here because I am annoyed at the waste of Zhang Wanyi and this drama's popularity and douban rating. I am a petty bitch.

59 Fight for Love - they had wonderful actors and a great premise and utterly wasted it. There might someday be a good drama about a female general torn between a royal and an enemy general but this ain’t it.

58 Peacock in Wonderland - I am a few decades too old for this brain dead fest but I am glad Zhou Jun Wei is not canceled at least.

57 Her Fantastic Adventures - honestly, this, MDE and Revenger are all the same type of subgenre - they aren’t offensive they are just as empty as air. This also suffers from casting an utter dud as ML and a charisma boat as SML. Why?

56 Lady Revenger Returns from the Fire - the main thing I remember from this is that Miles Wei must have stolen the wig maker’s parking spot. That wig is the one that should have gone into the fire.

55 Fox Matchmaker: The Red Moon Pact - it’s so pretty, so full of gorgeous costumes and actors and I enjoyed the first few eps, but ultimately it was like watching colorful paint dry. It was so dull, I couldn’t even hate watch it, and that is more damning than anything.

54 Your Trap/Imprisoned Love - the plot of this mini made no sense but the softcore vibes of sanitized 1990s cinemax were on point!

53 The Unexpected Marriage - cutesy dumb period romcom. Could be worse, not that this is much of a praise.

52 Love’s Rebellion - so twee, so precious, so full of cutesy awful CGI and actors who aren’t bothering. I am not sure why Zhang Linghe and Jing Tian are in this mess that looks like rainbow vomited on a xianxia set.

51 My Wife’s Double Life - her life may be double but her brain is only half.

50 Jade’s Fateful Love - I lost some braincells trying this one, but (a) it’s gorgeous and (b) no transmigration say you? Multiple transmigration in first ep alone! Good for you, makers!

49 Follow My Heart - how do you have Luo Yunxi, Song Yi and Cheng Lei and waste them so utterly? First few eps were nice and then it’s like exercise in how much you can tolerate before you call it quits.

48 The Story of Pearl Girl - almost made me dislike ZLS and LYN and that's a feat. Dull and stupid and pointless from beginning to end.

47 Brocade Odyssey - more like Snooze Novella.

46 Melody of Golden Age - see write up for FMH because it fits here. This is bland with a side of bland.

45 The Legend of Taotie - an unequivocally bad drama but the look is such a nostalgia trip and I had fun.

44 Sword and Fairy 4 - it’s kinda a mess but I loved the actors and some of the plots and you can do worse.

43 Dawn Amidst Hidden Clouds - I enjoy watching Chang Huasen as a ML but the rest is eminently forgettable.

42 Blossoms in Adversity - dumb as a set of particularly dumb bricks and ML I don’t think could act if his life depended on it, but it was strangely addictive and I watched it often before better dramas. It’s just a genuinely good time somehow!

41 Judge Dee - it’s not you it’s me in action. It’s smart and gorgeous and well acted, I just don’t do procedurals.

40 The Substitute Princess’ Love - it’s like some of those trashy web novels I enjoy. It was clearly cut, its budget was equivalent to loose change found in the pockets of makers of Fox Spirit Matchmaker, but it was a surprisingly fun watch, though I enjoyed the first half better than the second. Also as a drama old, it was a fun blast from the past seeing Dylan Kuo (if you have never watched the old twdrama The Outsiders, what are you even doing with your life?)

39 Rise from the Ashes - a wacky as hell mini where reborn FL wreaks revenge with help of her fake uncle as they carry on as some sort of Borgia/Phillip II of Spain fame hybrid. If you don’t need to use your brain, you could have a worse time.

38 The Legend of Heroes - it suffered from me seeing other versions of this tale before that I liked more and not loving how dark looking it is but that cast is A+ and Wang Hongyi was a revelation as Yang Kang.

37 Beauty Strategy - a mini of what a few years ago would have been a proper angsty drama of palace scheming enemies while lovers, powerless emperor etc etc. Honestly, I loved it.

36 Lovesickness - this year’s gender-reversed Ancient Love Song, not as artistic or good but still a good time about a woman traveling back in time and falling for a powerful but doomed duke.

35 Fragments of Kylin - demon slayer falls for a demon; this one came out of nowhere and didn’t have much of a budget but is surprisingly lovely.

34 Love of Nirvana - the good parts are vvvvv good and points for making the emperor the villain, but it almost never emotionally grabbed me, and a lot of time was spent on narratives I had no interest in.

33 Enslaved by Love - the only reason it’s not the most fucked up drama on this list is because Shadow Sect, Palace Shadows and Burning Flames exist. The ML is toxic enough to be banned by the Geneva convention but FL does get some of her own back and also if you ever wanted to see blindness-curing sex, boy do I have a drama for you!

32 The Princess Royal/The Grand Princess - I am in the minority of finding this drama very mid. The acting was fine (except for former eunuch dude), the writing was fine, but I never really got invested alas. I don’t even know why. I think it’s just not my type of narrative; there was no intensity.

31 Secrets of the Shadow Sect - head of sect lady and her very very subby bodyguard. What’s not to love?

30 Palace Shadows: Between Two Princes - ML pretends to be his own twin, bdsm and sluttiness ensues. I cannot even explain how wild this drama is but the acting is on point and way way fun!

29 Dashing Youth - I had no expectations of this drama (was either indifferent to or disliked everyone in the cast, wuxia and wuxia-adjacent is rarely my genre, the number of characters is huge) but I loved how under its bright colors, it eventually gets very dark (it’s quite old school that way) and somehow I am invested in everyone in the huge cast. This being a prequel to The Blood of Youth makes us know the fates of many of the characters and this adds the air of tragic inevitability to it all.)

28 The Last Immortal - a surprisingly sweet and touching xianxia that works largely because Zhao Lusi and Wang Anyu are so so so so solid separately and together.

27 Burning Flames - the most gonzo drama on this list. I love it for committing to insanity as it should (if you pick insane source material, commit.) Humans taking on the worst Gods since Olympus, fur and chains, sentient crystal FL, ML who goes from Crown Prince to mine slave to rebel leader, bare chests and fur, demon elves, a villain that leaches color from the world - this drama has everything and I loved its unhinged glory.

26 Lost You Forever 2 - it would have been higher except it fell apart in the last third so badly I am still wondering how the makers could misunderstand their own characters and their own narratives so badly. The first season was a masterpiece. This is a hot mess.

25 Fateful Love - this was released after years in the dungeon and feels old school in the best way. It's what reading one of those OP FL web novels feels like, and the OTP is shockingly competent and adult. I loved that.

24 Love Game In Eastern Fantasy - excellent start, mid middle, and a terrible last third but I cannot have truly hard feelings since before it fell off, it really was fun.

23 Love in a Dream - it's a mini that has the most gorgeous cinematography I've seen all year except for Fangs of Fortune and Eternal Brotherhood. I loved the vibes and the story (though of course it suffered from mini running time constraints) and its feeling of tragic love and lost time.

22 Different Princess - a ridiculous amount of fun and ship about an author falling through to her own novel and falling for the villain.

21 Kill Me Love Me - the story is a mess and a half but the OTP gave me some incredible incredible scenes, and Wu Jinyan, Liu Xueyi and Baron Chen are gorgeous and acting their hearts out, plus the whump mmmm.

20 Meet You at the Blossom - this is a Thai/Taiwan/China coproduction so I am including it. It's my list! An uncensored BL adaptation with delicious dysfunction, sunshine x murder boy, angst, shippiness, groveling and wigs that are surprisingly decent for the budget!

19 Sword and Fairy 6 - I love this tale; the young OTP (a whale weapon and a clone of her trigger? More wholesome than you think) who are so ride or die for each other, the other amazing characters (sect leader who has to live as a man and her “twin” who is an ancient trapped spirit, a wolf demon, etc…) It’s just genuinely good and proof that targeted to younger audience doesn’t have to be bad.

18 In Blossom - sure, we all know JJY can’t act, but the narrative was so fun and the visuals were so gorgeous and Liu Xueyi so gorgeous and magnetic in his first proper Male Lead role, it was all worth it. I liked the first half when they were still cautious of each other more than the second but this is just a good time!

17 Snowy Night Timeless Love - a classic, tragic, romantic wuxia the way "they don't make it any more" only they did. Just lovely.

16 The Rise of Ning - such a pleasant, easy slice of period life with a side of revenge and fakecest (but only a teeny side.) Secondary characters are not particularly engaging and the plot suffers from being limited to 40 eps, but the main OTP is so enjoyable and Ren Min and Zhang Wanyi are doing such nuanced, lovely job that I can't even complain.

15 Hard to Find - my second favorite mini on the list, this is an aesthetic feast. The doomed couple from enemy kingdoms, the vengeance, the twists - if ever a mini deserved to be a proper drama, this would be it. But alas, if it was they’d probably not let it.

14 The Double - unhinged web novel vibe done so perfectly in the inimitable Yu Zheng style. The leads were so good even the amazing villains didn’t truly steal the show. Like with a lot of cdramas, it lost a lot of steam in second half for me, but still a great watch.

13 Strange Tales of Tang Dynasty 2 - I never like procedurals. Somehow both seasons of this show are the sole exception. It is so gorgeous, so impeccably acted, with such great characters. I cannot wait for s3.

12 Love in the Desert - a mini drama in story but with a proper budget and run time, this is such gorgeous sensual fun with a great main OTP, a truly incredible secondary OTP and some beautiful visuals.

11 Fortune Writer - the best mini this year and better than most “proper” cdramas (Douban raters agree), this tale of villains in love fighting the narrative has a lot to say about writing cliches and writing conventions. I love how clever it is and how it actually made me care for the characters.

10 Tender Light - except for that ending, this was in the running for my favorite 2024 cdrama. The writers’ lack of ability to commit and carry through pushed it lower but otherwise it’s a genuine masterpiece. The acting, the chemistry, the looping narrative, what it has to say about abuse and complicity of society and blazing your own moral path is something else.

9 Derailment - who knew a little quasi scifi modern would be this high but this one is amazing. If you watch one modern this year, make it this one. Our FL is a rich girl a little in the future who somehow wakes up in a different timeline a few years back in the body of that universe’s version of her (who is poor and has been missing) and her one connection is a young man who was in love with that universe’s version of her. I don’t want to say more so as not to spoil because the twists are twisty but this is EVERYTHING and also addresses transmigration, what it means to love, what is ethical etc etc. And that OTP!

8 Will Love in Spring - this is a year of miracles because I don't just have one modern among my favorites, I have a bunch. This is a gorgeous story about love and healing and awkward, scarred emotionally and physically people feeling if their odd angles and prickly flaws actually fit and working towards a future with fits and starts and it's just so chemistry driven, so tender, so gorgeous.

7 Snowfall - a fever dream of a vampire narrative set in an alternate universe of the Republican era, it’s gorgeous, passionate, hella queer and just like watching the most amazing fanfic come to life.

6 Heroes - a complete masterpiece about three men about to be on the scrapheap of history in the Qing Dynasty about to fall (a constable devoted to obsolete norms, who spent his whole life studying for the imperial exam which got canceled, the world’s best swordsman in the era of guns, and a former imperial guard who emerges from prison into a different world) whose stories intersect as they search for treasure and the women and other people in their lives. This is smart, impeccably acted, filmed in a stunning way, bleak and funny at once and - I don’t use the term masterpiece often but I will use it here.

4 (tie) Blossom - a romantic fever dream, with gorgeous damaged destined lovers. The director is the person who made A Familiar Stranger and Butterflied Lover into amazingness on a short run time and no budget, so when he actually has a proper run time and a budget - oh boy - it's romantic and beautiful and intense, a drama as opera.

4 (tie) The Legend of Shen Li - I am often indifferent to xianxia that suffers from too much CGI, hella immaturity and not enough stakes. Shen Li is everything. It’s gorgeously filmed, it’s adult, it gives the story time to breathe and centers it on characters and relationships. And the OTP is everything you can ever dream of - it reunites Zhao Liying and Lin Gengxin, totally healing those Princess Agents wounds - their chemistry is still utter fire but the narrative supports them every step of the way.

3 Eternal Brotherhood - if JoL2/FoF did not come out this year, this would be my favorite cdrama of the year. It’s clearly a passion project with a small budget but this complex and grim tale of three rather different sworn brothers in a world at war is gorgeous, smart, well acted, dark and inspiring at once. There are shots that take my breath away, the love stories are amazing, the pace is perfect, and ohhh our complex mainsssssss.

1 (tie) Joy of Life 2 - (almost) nothing can beat this masterpiece. The first season was perfect and somehow the second is even more perfect. It’s smart, it’s funny, it’s heartbreaking, the cast is still impeccable and Zhang Ruoyun still gives a completely jawdropping performance as the focus of all the madness Fan Xian. If you watch only one cdrama this year, make it this one; well, this and Fangs of Fortune.

1 (tie) Fangs of Fortune - this is an emotional and visual feast, with such incredible characters, interesting explorations of fantasy and mortality and morality and what makes life worth living. It made awful actors good and mid actors amazing (and amazing ones extra amazing.) It is also the most stunning drama I've ever watched as well as throwing me back into what it's like to be immersed into an amazing fantasy book as a kid and the characters and the relationships and the themes sing to me. A miracle.

FAVORITE DRAMA

Fangs of Fortune - I have rarely seen a drama that speaks to me so personally, but it is also narratively perfect, emotionally devastating, with impeccable acting, complex characters and visuals that are beyond stunning.

Joy of Life 2 - there is not one second I forwarded, not one unnecessary scene, not one weak link character. It’s a smart, fierce masterpiece.

Eternal Brotherhood is a runner up - it came out of nowhere and owned my whole heart. It’s the sole other cdrama this year where I did not ff a second.

WORST DRAMA

My Divine Emissary may have been the lowest ranked drama on my list but honestly, a drama with a tiny budget and a bunch of nobodies does not deserve to be listed as the Worst. What does? Fox Spirit Matchmaker - a huge budget, fancy stars etc etc and yet it's a completely and utterly unwatchable mess. To make something this thoroughly dull is a genuine feat. I cannot think of a drama that insults its viewer more not just this year but any recent year.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Fan Xian (Zhang Ruoyun), Joy of Life 2 - how could it ever be anyone but smart, irreverent, fierce, broken, idealistic, funny Fan Xian. The man who fights against the horrors of the universe, who remains human while being so larger than life. This character is everything.

Or Zhu Yun (Hou Minghao), an ancient, irreverent, vivid, borken demon who wants to die even as he might finally find a reason to live in Fangs of Fortune.

Runner up: Zhou Luo (Zhang Xincheng), Tender Light - idealistic loner who refuses to compromise his principles even as it would be easier to, even as it destroys his life, ZXC has always been a solid actor but here he is beyond.

Alternatively, Zichuan Xiu (Yang Xuwen), Eternal Brotherhood - only way to describe Xiu is “trauma sunshine.” He’s funny, he’s irrevocably fucked up, he is magnetic and intense and he fights for his hopeless ideals and he breaks and he keeps going.

or Xing Zhi (Lin Gengxin), the lonely ancient god in Shen Li discovering the pleasure of life for the first time in aeons.

or Zhuo Yichen (Fangs of Fortune) - a traumatized idealist who goes through so much hell but retains his heart and his core of steel even as he grows up about complexities of the world and the human heart.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Shen Li (Zhao Liying), The Legend of Shen Li - so fierce, so certain, so alive. She is a goddess but ZLY made her feel so real.

Runner up: Nan Ya (Tong Yao), Tender Light - an abuse victim who keeps trying to find a way out, she’s strong and damaged and complex and honestly, one of the best performances this year.

Alternatively, Jiang Xiao Yuan (Liu Haocun), Derailment - she makes a character that in other hands would be boring or trite, someone I want to reach through to the screen and protect and love.

Or Mi Lan (Ouyang Nana), Snowfall - a tiny, suicidal, abused, seemingly helpless blind girl who decides she needs to protect a deadly ancient vampire as her reason for living and she is unstoppable, fierce and a force of nature in her goal.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

99% of the denizens of the town in Tender Light - selfish every day denizens monstrous because of their very everydayness - they watch abuse and choose to blame the victim and gossip and enjoy the view. I hated them all.

BEST BAD GUY

Li Lun (Fangs of Fortune) - with his glorious mane, equally glorious eventual redemption, and incredibly dramatic attitude to a bad breakup, that was a feast.

The Emperor (Joy of Life 2) - a magnetic monster, smartest and the most ruthless character in any scene - Chen Dao Ming gives an insane performance.

Wang Jia Luo (Heroes) - a revolutionary for conservatism, a young man with brains and ideals who gets destroyed by them, who out-Javerts Javert, his descent into villainy and inability to live in the modern complex world, is one of the most compelling and tragic arcs of the drama.

Shen Yurong (The Double) - both repellent and somehow sympathetic, it takes skill to make me feel for a man who tried to bury his wife alive in ep 1. The performance of the whole drama for me.

City Lord (Eternal Brotherhood) - an utterly vile toad of a man, with nothing truly human and yet hiding it under weak and caring facade. I need him taken out.

"HAROLD, THEY ARE LESBIANS" AWARD

Wen Xiao x Pei Sijing, Fangs of Fortune - Duh.

"HOW DID CENSORS NAP THROUGH THIS" AWARD

Vamp Daddy and Loser Li in Snowfall and the entirety of Fangs of Fortune.

MALE LEAD MOST LIKELY TO BE BROUGHT HOME TO MOTHER

No, thank you! The few modern ones she'd not approve of (a mortician with issues? A teenager? A man who had his memories rearranged?) and the period ones are no go since few moms would be keen on wild-eyed, bloodied sons in law however hot and long haired they may be.

FAVORITE SHIP

Dou Zhao x Song Mo, Blossom - one of the most perfectly in sync couples out there, smart, competent, different kinds of damaged, get each other before they love or even trust each other. Your OTP could never. Unless your OTP is them.

Fan Xian x Lin Wan'er, Joy of Life 2 - she is his peace and his haven and the place his busy mind can rest, he is her safety and happiness and ability to live and not exist. They are everything to me.

Shen Li x Xing Zhi, The Legend of Shen Li - the chemistry, the yearning, the slow inevitable collapse into admittance, the way he protects the world and she protects him, the way they dance around each other, her being the aggressor, his surrender to forbidden emotion, their utter mutual belief in each other’s competence. They are everything to me.

Whatever the throuple (with sides?) thing was going on in Fangs of Fortune - I've raved enough about it elsewhere but that was insane in its intensity and gorgeousness and emotion and narrative arcs.

Runner up: the OTP in Derailment - those two went through some mind and soul breaking stuff and made it out.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Hands down Ruo Wen x Ge Xinwei, Love in the Desert. An amoral, magnetic bandit leader and a princess gone wild on spring break stole the drama utterly. His unhinged energy was so matched by her sfl but with an appropriate target fixation. They made me swoon, laugh and cry.

Amusingly enough, Fu Xin Bo is the male actor in two - the crossdressing sect leader x wolf demon OTP in Sword and Fairy 6, and First Prince x Eldest Princess in Joy of Life 2. What can I say, man knows how to pick them. Those OTPs are both utterly adorable!

If we are talking about an OTP where it’s not that it’s not the main but it’s not a ship-centric drama so they don’t get much time, then we have Si Yilin x Ka Dan, Eternal Brotherhood - they are both such desperately good people in a mad world, tender with each other despite surrounding cruelty and Shen Zhiheng x Mi Lan, Snowfall - a vampire age gap romance done well, the ancient gentleman vampire and the tiny fierce blind girl who decides to protect him.

And of course Qing Geng x Fei, Fangs of Fortune - Ai Mi and Zuo Ye breaking my heart yet AGAIN.

NOTP

The couple in Fox Spirit Matchmaker - such pretty people, and so bland and boring and pointless together. It was kinda amazing.

HOTTEST SCENE

Ka Dan and Si Yilin (Eternal Brotherhood), the primmest, properest OTP of them all, consummate their love without any marriage, but with plenty of golden light.

FAVORITE SCENE

God, so many good scenes this year so far - Fan Xian watching the death of the old censor and the aftermath, in JoL2; his confrontation with Wan'er after she finds out about the truth behind her brother’s death, the scene where he poisons Second Prince, his scene with the registrar. Xiu giving up his future to protect the surrendered soldiers only to come back and find Di Lin executed them all in EB, the scene in Ning’s bedroom when he tells her how he really feels because she can’t hear, the very end of that season and Di Lin striding into the light, Ka Dan and SYL’s letters to each other. XZ literally defying heaven’s lightning and all their longing in Shen Li. The last scene of LYN and his girl in Heroes, the way Heroes always intercuts the golden past of the guard and princess and the dreary present (especially when we see her bicycle spin out of control back when and her husband lose it in the present and this time there is nobody to catch her), the big reveal in Derailment and the hairwashing scene, Mi Lan touching Vamp Daddy’s face as their thing in Snowfall, and the cage stuff, the aborted sex scene in Will Love in Spring, so many scenes in Fangs of Fortune but especially the aftermath on the stairs between ZYC and ZYZ post the latter's loss of control, the final sacrifice,Li Lun x ZYC x ZYZ battle against the bad guy, the whole plague demon storyline, ZYC becoming a demon, ZYZ having to slap himself to nerve himself to walk to his death, everything. And we haven't gotten to it yet, but the scene in all Blossom previews where Song Mo falls to his knees in front of Dou Zhao from a dead run is imprinted in me.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Shen Zhiheng (Gao Weiguang), Snowfall - Vamp Daddy made me hormonal in a way I haven’t felt for a cdrama lead since the heady days of Darren Wang in The Wolf. Those outfits, that hair, that height, that restraint, that lack of restraint. THE CHAINS

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Liu Duan Duan as Second Prince in Joy of Life 2 - what a performance! Unhinged, magnetic, pitiable, terrifying and always mesmerizing. The Second Prince is Fan Xian’s foil and a worthy one. LDD is always a great actor, and with a role that actually gives him something to sink his teeth into - wow!

Runner up - Baron Chen in Kill Me Love Me. It's the year of unhinged royal princes, I guess.

BEST COSTUMES AND WIGS

Fangs of Fortune - the whole design is exquisite!

MOST EXTRA OUTFIT

Burning Flames - this drama was a feat of extraness and that meant costumes but even among those, costumes worn by Peter Ho's human king and Jeremy Tsui's psychotic god stood out.

FAVORITE SECONDARY ML

Wu Shan, Blossom - this man is a literal sunshine angel.

MOST BLATANT INNUENDO MOMENT

The Double - As our FL fondles her wet flower petals in the bath, our ML wields and swings his giant sword shirtless in the rain. That was eye popping.

FAVORITE 2024 CDRAMA SONG

This Chen Xueran song from Eternal Brotherhood:

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MVP OF THE YEAR

Liu Xueyi (In Blossom, Kill Me Love Me) - this is the year LXY finally achieved leading man status and he was spectacular in both of his outings - so very different in both but equally magnetic in either even if the dramas themselves had flaws. I have a new fave!

ACTING SURPRISE

Ouyang Nana - Li Muge performs miracles. He made Yang Chaoye be good in Heroes (2022) and now Nana, who was always as wooden as a post, is a revelation as blind abused girl who becomes a vampire in Snowfall.

Hou Minghao - I've always found HMH a stunningly beautiful man and a thoroughly bland actor. But he was surprisingly solid in Dashing Youth and utterly blew me away in Fangs of Fortune. Like jaw on the floor level blown away.

Wang Hongyi - found him bland as paint in LYF (both seasons) but his Yang Kang in Condor Heroes blew me away and then he repeated that feat as a very different character in a very different drama (Snowy Night.) Consider me a new fan.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

Joy of Life 2 of course - I need to see the looming confrontation between Fan Xian and the emperor, though not sure how that will pass censorship.

NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

FF button has cured me of finding contenders for this category, but perhaps cutting out a lot of terrible acting and lack of stage presence of “not yet a eunuch” dude in The Princess Royal, would have improved it.

TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Lost You Forever 2 - there were other issues with it, but all the cuts couldn’t have helped with coherency.

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

Same as last year - the emperor cannot be irredeemable. WTF, China, you are a communist country! Though they are nibbling at the edges this year. Also fake feminism - I am all for girl power but not when it's ridiculously anachronistic for the period with no explanation at all. And finally NO MORE TRADE DRAMAS PLS PLS PLS

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

Men (and women) knowingly fighting for a doomed cause because otherwise they’d cease to be who they are. Or if we are being shallow all the beautiful men in chains.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

Lost Your Forever 2 - the first season was my favorite drama of 2023 but LYF2 just fell apart so so so badly, it was almost fascinating. It totally eviscerated the characters and the meanings of the story.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

So many of top dramas on my list are not dramas that were on my radar at all before airing - Heroes, Eternal Brotherhood, Fangs of Fortune, Will Love in Spring and Snowfall were not anything I anticipated, let alone I realized how much I’d love them. Same for Derailment and Tender Light. This has been a year of surprises.

2024 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

I have honestly watched everything I wanted.

BEST NON-2024 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2024

Lighter and Princess, hands down. I rarely even enjoy moderns and this one made it into my Top 5 cdrama of all time. This is how you make a love story. This is literally perfect. PERFECT.

Runner up: Strange Tales of Tang Dynasty - I, a procedural and mystery hater (especially when there is close to no romance) somehow fell like a ton of bricks for this gorgeous, smart, impeccably acted show.

MOST ANTICIPATED

A Dream Within a Dream looks like Fortune Writer with proper length and budget, Legend of the Female General looks epic and I love the novel, Divine Tree with Deng Wei is all my fave tropes, Veil of Shadows is peak Guo Jingming, and so many more.

#cdrama #cdrama 2024 #year in review #joy of life 2 #eternal brotherhood #fangs of fortune #blossom #snowfall #will love in spring #tender light #The Legend of Shen Li #heroes (2024)#derailment #fortune writer #love in the desert

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