#and be a voice of reason within the fandom

[hyunjining]

.

[welcometogrouchland]

Getting back into comics is fun. Minus the Getting Back Into Comics part of it all

[paris-geller-was-straightwashed]

one final thought on this whole argument - this asshole has literally up and blocked me before I even got the chance to upon seeing if he’d reply, and after getting by it using a secondary device to check out of curiosity, I have found him absolutely froathing at the mouth having a full adult tantrum.

the walls of boldened text and full capitol letters like a screaming school child alone is quite something.

[queers-gambit]

Shower Shenanigans

part one: Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: midnight callers turn your quiet night upside down, but at least it ends with you riding your stranger in the shower.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.7k+

note: nobody asked for this but he's my muse now

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected, in the shower, she's on top), blood, wounds, brain rot, author isn't British, probably setting up for part three, wonky brain doesn't care what warnings are missed.

A storm had rolled over Osaka, a steady thrumming at your hotel window creating a calming ambiance as you lit a couple of the candles you ordered from the front desk. Curled up on the tiny loveseat offered in the small living space, you flipped through your latest novel you grabbed before running into Tangerine at the train station. Speaking of, you glared at your phone for the hundredth time in an hour, feeling a sort of overwhelming dread that he hadn't called yet - or at the very least, texted.

Was it silly? Oh, you KNOW it was.

But he had said some really pretty things that rang in your ears on a haunting repeat the rest of the train ride. Then the whole taxi ride through Osaka, and the three days it's been since meeting him - he just wouldn't leave your conscious. Every meeting you had was vaguely interrupted by some sort of thought about your mysterious stranger, driving you up the wall.

Sure, you could call him, but the idea of calling a stranger for no reason other than to hear his voice felt a little too vulnerable to you. Yo could ask where he was, if he wanted to come for a visit - or hell, even before you departed Japan back for London, England, you could come see him... If he so wanted.

But your mind refused to let you dial his number, which was left in your recents after he had texted himself in the bathroom. The memory of your ex was still so fresh, making you feel silly for having such vivid, intense fantasies about a man you've met once. And for the love of Christ, you didn't even know his real name! Just his silly, fruity codename!

Man, if you hadn't been embarrassed before, the memory of moaning a fucking fruit surely made you cringe to the point you wanted the Earth to open up, swallow you whole, and never spit you out.

Your trip was soon to end with your departing flight tomorrow night, giving you just a day of leisure time in the city - but you didn't feel like doing much since the storm. Your book was interesting enough, keeping you entertained with a cart of hot food from room service within arms reach. Your tea was lukewarm by now, being much easier to drink, bowl of air-popped popcorn sat in your lap. Over the sounds of thunder, there was a knock at your door.

More like a banging, but hey, logistics. This was odd considering it was close to nine in the evening and you hadn't called for anything.

With a sigh, you marked your page and stood; annoyed by the continuous knocking, oversized tee shirt falling back over your thighs, socked feet stuffing into your slippers before traveling to the door. You called in Japanese, "Who is it?"

There was a small scraping, making your brows furrow and call your question again - but with much more urgency. "'S me, love, open the door, please," a raspy, British accent croaked seemingly through the crack. You left the chain lock in place, slowly opening the door a fraction to discover Tangerine - bloodied to high hell - leaning on the doorframe of your hotel room with two other bloody men behind him.

"What the fuck? Jesus Christ," you hissed, shutting the door, snapping the chain off and yanking it open once more. "Get in here, are you okay?" You asked, gasping right after when Tangerine stumbled a little, making you catch him; assualting your sinuses with the smell of citrus, metallic blood, and cigarette smoke. "All right, all right, you're safe now, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," you muttered, helping him over your shoulders and into your decently spacious hotel room. "C'mon, you two! Step lively before you trigger hotel security!"

You shuffled your stranger into the room and deposited him on the sofa; hearing his grunt of exaggerated pain. You looked at the others, sighing as you moved things out of the way, inviting the other two men to sit around the furniture. You tried not to worry about the cleaning bill you would surely get for all their blood.

"Jesus Christ, did you get shot?" You asked, seeing the fleshy wound in his shoulder that was very poorly staunched.

"That arsehole did it," he panted, pointing at the blonde stranger.

"Hi," the arsehole waved, "it was an accident, for whatever it's worth. I, uh... I have bad luck, don't really like guns," he shrugged meekly.

"You lot look like hell," you sighed, shaking your head and standing to your feet to take a few steps away. You asked over your shoulder, "Guess I shouldn't bother asking what happened?"

"Train wreck," the man Tangerine had been with earlier answered.

You blinked in shock, the men all wincing as they were seemingly finally able to relax. Only now, you noted they were all in the same clothes as days ago, just tattered, torn, burnt and singed, soaking wet from the storm, stained with blood. You looked at Tangerine, demanding, "Is that why you told me to get off the train? You were gonna crash it!?"

"No, no, darlin', that wasn't the plan," Tangerine coughed, head tilted back. "Just... Happened."

"Call it his bad luck, huh?" You shook your head and moved for the hotel's phone, dialing the front desk and waiting. When they answered, the cheery front desk girl asked how she could help and you asked her what first aid supplies the hotel kept stocked. She answered and you asked if you'd be able to get enough for three kits - claiming you were practicing for a medical school final. She was more than happy to oblige, telling you her brother did much of the same, and she'd send the kits right up.

Thanking her, you hung up, and turned back for room. You found a pair of shorts and hopped into them for modesty, using your ice bucket to fill with water, grabbing whatever hand towels and washcloths you could. You set the bucket to the coffee table, dipping the cloths in for the two strangers, asking, "You guys wanna clean up a bit?"

"Please," the blonde wheezed.

You nodded, handing over the wet towels and moved the bucket a little closer for them to reach. You introduced yourself to them, offering a smile, turning for Tangerine and taking a seat beside him to start cleaning him up. "Lemon," your companion's counterpart introduced.

"Ladybug."

"More fucking codenames," you mumbled, shaking your head, trying to mop up Tangerine's forehead. "Jesus, fuck, sweetheart, what did you do? Bash your head through a glass wall?"

"Window, actually," he mumbled, reaching up to caress your wrist and cracking his eyes open. "Thank you, darlin'."

"Hush," you smiled, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You guys are gonna need showers and new clothes, huh?" You looked at the other two, who were scattered around the room to use whatever reflective surface they could find.

"That'd be nice," Ladybug nodded. "Anyone any cash?"

You sighed, "I've got you guys, 's all right."

As you reached for the bucket of warm water again to rinse the washcloth and wring it out, you missed the looks Lemon and Tangerine exchanged; both mildly impressed with your generosity and kindness. Certainly, someone who would never get tangled up in the lot of them on regular circumstances.

The knock at your door made the entire room still, you sparing them a skeptical look and reprimanding as you stood, "Relax, it's just the supplies."

Still, Lemon and Ladybug made sure they were out of sight as Tangerine just couldn't move once deposited on the sofa. You greeted the service worker, strategic in how wide you opened the door, and accepted the supplies; thanking the man, closing the door, and depositing the materials on your still-made bed.

However, a new thought occurred and you picked up the phone once more. When it connected to the front desk, you asked if your conjoining room was vacant - and to your shock, it was. You asked if they would add the room to yours because your friend suddenly decided to join you (not a total lie), and some 20 minutes later, you were giving Ladybug and Lemon their own room keys. You propped the conjoining door open, the two men using the first aid kits and the other room's shower as you got Tangerine to a point you didn't think he would bleed out.

"Okay, sweetheart," you caressed his jaw, "I'm gonna pop over to the shops across the street, okay? Grab you guys some necessities."

"You don't have to, we shouldn't burden you like this," he whispered.

"You guys can't walk around in these clothes," you chuckled.

"Have been."

"Yeah, on the side of the road, huh?"

"Back of a tangerine truck for a bit, too," he chuckled.

"Well, that's fitting. Look, just," you sighed, leaning in to peck his lips softly, "stay here, rest, eat, I'll be right back. Get a shower if you feel able, yeah?"

He nodded, just looking you over for a moment. "I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking his head, "I didn't know where else t'go. Whole plan went t'shit, we were out of options, love, just... Didn't know where t'turn ta."

"How'd you even find me?"

He shrugged, "I have my ways."

"Well, that's doesn't vaguely make you sound like a stalker." Another peck to his amused smile. "I'll be right back, promise," you stood, found a pair of sweats, a hoodie, and changed your shoes before heading out the door.

Was it stupid to leave three strangers alone in your hotel room? For sure. But you still went, you were a caring person by nature and the idea of making them fend for themselves felt wrong.

Especially after the state they showed up in, Tangerine's soft words about not knowing where to go; you just wanted to help since you had the ability to.

Across the street, splashing through puddles, you zipped around what was available and gathered three sets of sweatpants, shirts, jackets or hoodies, and figured their shoes were fine for now until they could change them later. You grabbed a few snacks and bottles of water, sports drinks, and energy drinks, paid, and made it back to your hotel room.

"Oh, blessings, you sweet girl!" Lemon gasped when you presented the change of clothes and snacks. "Oh, fuck yeah," he whispered to himself, taking the gift and going to change as you tossed Ladybug his own set.

When you found Tangerine, he was in the same place - but at least he didn't look worse. Just exhausted.

"Hey," you cooed, caressing his head and watching his eyes crack open.

"You're back," he smiled.

"Mhm," you hummed, "and you need a shower. C'mon, then you can get in bed, get some rest."

"Nah, love," he groaned when you took his wrists, "let's jus' go t'bed."

"Tan, you're absolutely disgusting right now, you'll feel better under the water. C'mon, there's a shower seat, you don't have to do anything, I'll help you."

He winced when you helped him on his feet, hobbling into the bathroom as Ladybug and Lemon were chowing down on whatever they could get their hands on. In the bathroom, you shut the door, set a clean towel on the counter, and turned to see him leaning on a wall, just watching you. You offered a soft smile, starting the shower to hea up, and then approaching him.

"Easy," you whispered, helping him unlatch his belt, step from his shoes, and then shed his trousers. His waistcoat followed, then his button-up, you gasping lightly, "Oh, fuck! Oh, my God. Yeah," you gently pet his side, prodding the dark wound, "you've got some broken ribs, sweetheart. Fuck's sake."

"That arsehole did that, too," he mused.

"Seriously? Damn, how'd you get your arse handed to yah by a lad named Ladybug?" You joked, dropping his boxers and pulling him from the wall. You made sure he was on the shower seat before stepping back and stripping yourself, joining him in the heat and getting to your knees.

With another washcloth, you gently suds over his body, the soap helping sweep away from grime. He let you work, scrubbing his feet, then working up his legs, rinsing, reapplying the soap, and continuing on your way. You washed his thighs and up his hips, to his waist, ignoring the way his cock stirred to life, bobbing into your elbow as it swelled. You were gentle over his bruises, the water feeling nice over your tired bodies; the soft scents of the soap soothing.

When you straightened up to wash his chest, you missed the way his eyes scanned over your soaking wet form. Feeling your hands on his collarbones, he reached down to seize your hips and heave - making you yelp. "The hell are you doing?" You gasped, needing to stabilize yourself on the wall and his non-shot shoulder.

"'S been three days too long, just wanted yah close," he whispered, sighing as his hands smoothed down your hips; gripping the flesh until indentations appeared.

You tisked, "You're hurt, you don't need t'fuckin' lift me. Use your words next time, won't you?"

He chuckled, "And what? Risk you sayin' no 'cause you don't wanna hurt me? Nah, love," he sighed. "Just wanted yah close, t'feel yah."

You hummed, "Close your eyes."

"Hmm?"

You held up the shampoo bottle, squirting a generous amount into your hand before starting to lather it into his scalp. He groaned, hissed at a few intervals, but overall let you work your fingers through his curls; pulling out any knots, shards of glass, and loosening the dried blood.

"You all right?" You checked, lifted on your knees to work; breasts all but pressed into his face.

"Mhm," he hummed, coiling his arms around you so he could literally just press his face into your cleavage. You chuckled, giving him a quick cuddle as he pecked your skin slowly, and continuing your work. When you lowered yourself back to his lap, your bare cunt drug down his shaft, making you both groan. "Baby," he seethed through his teeth, gripping the back of your neck to keep you close, "please, just - get on me, yeah? Need yah - on a biblical level, darlin'."

"You're hurt," you weakly refused, your resolve barely hanging on by a thread.

"Not so hurt that I can't enjoy this, huh?" He argued, licking over your lips to halt all rational thought. "C'mon, love, we hiked it three days here - after a fuckin' train wreck. I would've dropped if not for the thought of you, seein' yah, touchin' you again. Don't even gotta move, just sit there, love."

"If I do, will you finally just sit still and let me clean you up?"

"Whatever baby wants, she'll have, swear it," he grinned, hoisting you into his arms so he could grip his throbbing cock, lower you, and line himself up until you were impaling yourself on him. "Jesus, fuck!" He snapped, mixing with your whimper at his impossible stretch. "Ah, you feel so fuckin' good, doll, this is it - this is what I needed, huh? All I fuckin' needed - fuck - right fuckin' here."

"Hush," you whispered with an embarrassed smile, glancing back. "I need the shower head."

"I got us," he answered, holding you tight and standing with a small grunt. He easily grabbed the shower head, handing it to you, letting you rinse his hair out as he turned to pin you against the wall with his hips for balance.

"This isn't just sitting," you mocked, soap flowing down his shoulders and chest. "Close your eyes, please," you whispered, wiping the frothy suds from his face as he did. "God, your curls are magnificent, seriously, why does God give the best qualities to men - who don't even appreciate what they have?"

He laughed lightly, "Gotta get your attention somehow."

"Mhm, these lashes? Not even a drop of mascara," you mused, pecking the tip of his nose while one hand held his jaw. "And this jawline? Baby, this alone could cut glass."

"Like your nipples, right?" He teased, nipping your collarbones; both acutely aware of your pebbled nips dancing across his flesh each time you moved. He chuckled, readjusting you when you reached to set the shower head back in the holder; making sure it could cascade over the bench still. "We done?" He asked softly.

"Nope, got the conditioner," you rolled your eyes, holding his shoulders when he moved back for the seat; still firmly inside you. When he sat again, you released a high-pitched breath when the position pushed him further into you; your legs folding beside his thighs to keep the ideal grip.

"In a second," he smirked, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. "Just need this, yeah?" He spoke against your lips, licking into your mouth. "Been hiking with a fucking hard-on for days, love, just fuckin' need this," he hissed into your mouth, teeth raking over your bottom lip in a possessive bite. You moaned quietly, lost in the ministrations of kissing him like a drunk teenager, barely aware when he started moving your hips over him.

"Tan," you tried.

"C'mon, love, we both need it," he shook his head. "Tell me to stop and I will, but I think we both need this."

With a long sigh, you pet his cheek, deciding, "Fine, but we're taking it easy, you're still - " But then there was a loud knock at the bathroom door, Lemon calling your name in question. You slapped a hand over Tangerine's irritated mouth when he looked ready to yell his protest, answering, "What is it, honey, are you guys okay? What's wrong?"

"Yeah, just, uh... Can we order a couple things from room service? Bit starving, thinkin' something hot?"

"Oh, yeah, whatever you guys need!" You encouraged happily, Tangerine biting your palm and making your hand retract with a small whine and pout.

"Oi!" He called over the shower stream.

"Yeah?" Lemon was heard laughing.

"Don't run up her bill, mate!"

"It's okay," you whispered, pecking his forehead. "Get what you need, Lemon," you called, "but order Tangerine something to eat, too, please!"

"On it, love! Thank you!"

"Oh! Of course!" You beamed back at Tangerine, who offered you a mild look of annoyance.

"Now, why do that?" He asked, grinding your hips on his again. "Huh? Those two will eat you outta house and home, love."

"It's fine, you guys have been through a lot," you promised, connecting your lips in a long kiss. "Now, you wanna keep talking financials or put the rest of this hot water to use?"

"There's my girl," he grunted, standing from the bench to move fully under the water; pinning you to the wall again.

You grunted when you collided with the cold tile, but the warm tongue in your mouth was plenty distraction. You held his neck like it was your single tether to life, teeth clashing, tongues wagging, lips wet and creating obscene sounds the more intense the kisses turned.

"Fuck," you felt the air punch from your lungs when Tangerine pulled his hips back to start thrusting; brows furrowed together in concentration as he worked in and out of you at an already brutal pace. You didn't complain - he obviously needed this, and by God, it felt otherworldly.

"'Ats my girl, so fuckin' good for me," he muttered, needing this more than you have ever before; each hand holding a thigh to keep you spread open for his taking, hips hammering into yours as his balls slapped the apex of your cunt to echo around the room.

You felt incoherent when he picked up his speed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder when your head was thrown back as he worked you closer, closer, closer to your release. There was no thought in your mind, just Tangerine; drunk on his smell, taste, touch, never wanting this feeling to end.

Just outside the bathroom, Ladybug was accepting the room service order when he heard the messy, obscene noises coming from the bathroom; looking wide eyed at the closed door. Lemon laughed, "Might wanna walk away, Joburg, he don't like nobody listening in."

"Kinda hard to when they're that loud," he blanched when you released a pornographic moan as Tangerine readjusted his stance so his cock was piercing what felt like straight through you. Lemon laughed at Ladybug being startled so much he literally scurried away.

"C'mon, love," Tangerine panted.

"Go back," you moaned, pawing at his shoulders as you felt too slippery in this position.

"Huh?"

"Sit!" You insisted, him pulling back from the wall and backing up until the bench hit the back of his knees - dropping him. "There's my boy," you mocked, a hand on the wall, the other on his good shoulder, supporting you to vigorously ride him. You felt renewed energy now that he was obviously okay, only his bullet wound still weeping - something you'll patch up once out of the water.

"Oh, holy fuck," Tangerine moaned, louder than you would've thought; his head thumping back to the wall and losing all composure. "That's it, doll, keep like that - ohhh, fuck me!"

"Exactly what I'm doing, yeah?" You teased, moving your hand to his throat and keeping pressure enough not to fully choke his air supply, but enough to make him moan at the feeling.

His mouth dropped open as you rode him enthusiastically, feeling determined to reward him for coming all this way to track you down. Yeah, sure, for a moment, it was concerning, but now, you simply didn't care that three strangers had found your hotel room and now crashed with you.

Nothing mattered when this deliriously delicious cock was inside you.

"Jesus!" Tangerine moaned, hands to your hips to help you move, but it seemed the years in your youth as an equestrian was truly paying off. Call it muscle memory, but years after mastering the posting trot and the correct canter diagonal, you were riding Tangerine as if you'd drop dead if you didn't. And he felt it, he felt all of it. "Yeah, you're too good at this," he groaned, "so fuckin' good - Goddamnit - fuck me. Just like that, love, keep going - fuck, I'm right there."

You smirked, pushing his neck back so we was pinned to the wall now, his eyes locked with yours, mouth agape, your breasts bouncing with vigor. You squeaked when Tangerine braced his feet, his own hips thrusting up into you to match your movements; adding to both your mounting pleasures as the shower created a cloud of steam around you both in a welcomed lung-choking heat.

You honestly didn't mean to, but the absolute gut-wrecking pleasure you felt was enough for you to moan in Tangerine's ear, "Daddy."

It seemed the right word as Tangerine groaned in an echo, thrusting faster to the point you couldn't keep up. You could only moan, groan, squeak, cry-out as he jackhammered up into you - something that made Lemon and Ladybug exchange looks, gather their things, and rush back over to their adjoining room to leave you both a fraction of privacy.

"Yeah, tell Daddy how good it is," he seethed in your ear, opening his mouth, and biting down on your neck; hand tightly wound in your hair.

"So good."

"How good?"

"Too good, Daddy, please," you sobbed, braced on his shoulders and chest as his arms held you tight to let him thrust with abandon. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, yes, yes, yes," you praised, your orgasm rushing higher and higher to a new height. "Fuck," you moaned in his ear, "need this cock everyday. Went three days without, felt like I was losing my fucking mind."

"Feelin's mutual, love, so fuckin' mutual," he agreed, his cock swelling, "just needed t'get here, find yah again. Shit, fuck," he looked to where you were conjoined, praising, "gonna need yah home address - ain't no way we're goin' without one another, huh? Hey?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you squeaked, "there - there - there!"

His thumb pressed to your clit and you were done for. Grinding and humping into his hips, you crashed over the other side of your orgasm; feeling mildly limp as you slumped against his shoulder, letting Tangerine thrust a few more times.

"YES!" He shouted your name through clenched teeth, holding you with a vice grip as he bottomed out, balls contracting, squirting his full load inside you with shuddering breaths.

"Oh, my God," you sniffled, holding onto him as your legs were spent and you knew, the odds of you moving any time soon were slim to none.

"Yeah," Tangerine chuckled, leaning back to the wall as he panted; keeping hold of you. "Yah all right, love?"

"Uh-huh," you breathed, still absentminded.

"Yeah," he mused, pecking below your ear. "Just what the doctor ordered, huh?"

"Think the doctor would want your wound closed," you slowly sat off him, looking to the bloody hole and frowning as you pet around the irritated skin. He winced gently, making you frown, "Let's go, love, you need this tended to."

Only, when you dismounted, his cock flopping out of you once released, you tried to find your feet but only found the floor.

"C'mon, love, you just sit," he sighed, scooping you up and switching spots. He set you on the bench, stood, rinsed off under the water, readjusted the stream so it hit you a little better as he lathered conditioner into his curls with one arm.

"You're supposed to leave it sit for a bit," you tisked when he washed the conditioner out; shaking his curls.

"'S all right, still does the job."

"Your girlfriends never taught you haircare?"

He cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish as he avoided your eyes. "Never really had one outside of secondary school. Job doesn't make dating the easiest, yeah?"

You furrowed your brows gently, then nodded, "Okay, well, just means you've room to learn, right?"

"Yeah, sure. You gonna teach me, love?" He mused, slicking his hair back in the water before shutting it off; wringing a few strands out.

"Why not?" You smiled. "But you gotta teach me something in return."

"Hmm? What's that you wanna learn?"

"How to shoot a gun."

He offered you a long look, seemingly skeptical. You accepted his hand and got from the bench, squeezing when the weight of your body made them tremble lightly. Stepping out, you both dried off with towels as he offered, "Why d'you think I know how to shoot a gun?"

"Tellin' me that Ladybug fellow is the only one? That's fine, I can ask him," you quipped, making him instantly respond,

"Nah, nah, nah, nah, don't do all that, I'll teach yah, love."

You smiled softly, wrapping your hair in a towel and approaching him - still naked. "Thank you," you whispered, kissing his lips in a soft, sweeping motion that made him hum in the back of his throat and reach for your bare arsecheek. "Now, c'mon, let's get you stitched up before you go startin' something you can't finish."

"You met me, love? I always finish," he gave a cheeky squeeze.

"Mhm, might be the last time, too, with this blood loss. Huh?"

He relented in a head nod and wrapped the towel around his hips, watching you shrug on a fluffy white robe and tie the sash. He took your hand, laced your fingers together, and exited the bathroom - only to come to a shocking halt.

There was blood trailed all over the room, medical supplies strewn around, and several food wrappers. "Told yah, love," Tangerine sighed.

"It's okay," you smiled, "they'll clean it."

"You're so sure?"

"I'm very persuasive," you eased. "C'mon, sit," you ushered him back to the bloodied sofa, figuring damage was already done and anymore blood wouldn't make much of a difference. You grabbed whatever material you could, snapping on rubber gloves and taking a deep breath. "Ready?" You asked Tangerine.

"One more kiss and you can have at it," he sighed, leaning in until you met him happily; offering several swipes of his tongue before resting his forehead on your own.

"It'll sting for a bit," you warned, holding the bottle of alcohol.

"C'mon, darlin', 's all right, I can handle - OH! FUCKS SAKE!" He cursed when you poured the disinfectant over his bullet wound.

In the next room, Ladybug and Lemon shared a look before snickering as if two juvenile boys at a sleepover. And honestly? Spot the difference.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[reallyromealone]

Title: fate

Fandom: jjk

Characters: Gojo, original character for plot purposes

Fic type: story

Pairings: Gojo x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, angst, soulmate, Gojo is a jerk, slow burn

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

There was no space for weakness amongst sorcerer's, no space for mistakes and no space to be anything less than perfect.

He had always heard of his fiance, Gojo Satoru... The god amongst sorcerer's...

Though he never met the Alpha, the high and mighty sorcerer never bothered meeting the diamond of the (lastname) clan and did everything he wanted and everyone he wanted while (name) was expected to wait.

The only reason they were fiance's is because of stupid blood work, the two having extreme compatibility and thus an engagement... The Alpha apparently became a teacher.

(Name) Always stood out with people, clothes traditional and expensive as students gawked at the Royal looking omega with two S rank sorcerer's beside him as security and a calm yet serious expression on his face, he was rarely called here... Hell he wasn't even allowed to attend due to being the fiance of Gojo, the Alpha barring it.

That always made (name) laugh, couldn't meet his omega even once and downright ignored him but controlled every aspect.

"You will be expected to marry within the next month, you're both 19 and twenty and after the wedding we expect pups within the first year" Gojo sat beside him, legs spread out and sitting casual as if he didn't make them wait an hour for him to arrive. (Name) Didn't know what to do with the Alpha beside him, (name) expected to wear scent patches at all times and a collar but Gojo had his scent out and proud, it was almost suffocating.

The concept of marrying such an asshole... (Name) Didn't want that.

He didn't want to live a life being this fuckers baby machine.

So, a week after... He left.

Took the jewelry gifted to him by people wanting his hand or favor, once people learned who he was it was like floodgates opened and (name) just kept the expensive jewelry in a box... Now they served a purpose.

That was one year ago, now 20 and across the country away from Tokyo and away from... Him.

(Name) Lived in a farm house on a coastal village, trading his traditional clothes for t-shirts and cardigans, simple trousers and sneakers, all things he never wore before living on his own. The two was nice, the Omega had more money than god with the jewels he sold and worked part time at the small hobby shop in town, the elderly alpha woman introducing him to many hobbies.

For the first time, (name) felt calm.

His shoulders never tensed anymore.

But he knew to never eat his guard down.

(Name) Didn't keep much tech, he didn't really use it back in Tokyo so it didn't appeal to him but he did keep a radio and a small tv in the corner, his boss giving him her old dvd player and (name) would borrow movies from the library, catching up on things he missed.

Currently he was watching a drama as he crocheted another blanket for his nest, humming softly to himself as rain patterned outside against his roof and the smell of his food cooking in the oven.

Knock knock knock.

(Name) Was confused as he stood up, walking to the door and carefully he cracked the door open just a sliver when he smelt it... Pine and peppermint. The smell of Gojo Satoru.

"You are a very hard person to find, surprisingly" Gojo said as he pushed the door open, the smell of distress and anxiety filling the small space as the sorcerer walked in "cute place, not what I would have expected from the (last name)s clans little gem" his voice condescending as he looked around at the little decorations and such.

"I'm not going back" (name) hissed as he stepped away whenever Gojo got closer "im not being some daycare for your pups while you go sleep around japan!" Gojo wore his eye mask though even with that he could feel the glare, the man was done with this.

"So you're going to play farm boy here? We both know you're not even remotely cut out for that" Gojo taunted and (name) glared at him "you know nothing about me! I know you never opened that stupid packet about me! I was expected to give everything to you but you couldn't even muster up talking to me! You treated me like I didn't exist!" (Name) Yelled angrily, all the years of anger and resentment boiling over "you don't get to want me now, I don't care if we are fated or whatever! You are a jackass!" (Name) Felt the air knocked out of him as he was pushed against a wall, the infinity making him feel like the other was pressing against him as he realized that gojos mask was no longer present, piercing blue eyes staring down at him.

"Do you think I was happy with the elders deciding that I was going to marry some prissy Omega? That suddenly I was expected to play house with someone I didn't know!" He growled and (name) wasn't backing down despite the pharamones and pressure "you didn't even try and get to know me! You didn't want me!"

"Well I'm here now, aren't I !"

" A little late, don't you think!"

"God you're annoying!"

"Back at you"

This was not the Omega Gojo remembered, the poised and refined Omega who poured tea and wore pretty clothes was replaced by an angry man in comfy clothes and a heated glare and an attitude "we are literally bound by fate and we can't even hold a conversation without arguing" Gojo found the situation weirdly funny as (name) looked at him with a mix of annoyance and disgust as the sound of his timer went off and (name) managed to get away to go take his food out the oven.

Gojo followed the other and looked at the food, it looked really good "you know how to cook?"

"I was literally trained to be the perfect house wife" (name) said bluntly as the sound of a stomach growling caught both of their attention and Gojo looked at the other and (name) sighed "I literally can't make you leave" he hissed as he grabbed another plate.

Dinner was tense as (name) ate, reading his book as he did so as Gojo took the time to inspect his surroundings "it's like an old persons house, do you even have a computer?"

"Don't know how to use one, don't need it" (name) said as he took a bite of his food and Gojo looked surprised at his words "you grew up with cast wealth, how do you not?" He didn't believe it at all as (name) set his book down "an Omega and an alpha live different lives, you were given more freedoms then myself... You got to attend school and make friends and I was raised to be the perfect mate and technology wasn't deemed important to know compared to the art of tea pouring" he said simply as he looked into the others eyes "I have spent this year learning everything i was deprived of, I lived in Tokyo yet I had never seen it outside my escape"

If it was tense before then it was suffocating now, Gojo never considered these things.

He never once considered the life his fiance was living, having always been told he was living the perfect life of luxury and frankly assumed he was some spoiled Omega.

"I would have shown you..." Gojo started, guilt bubbling in him, "oh? You would have spared me time? Between your whores?" (Name) Tilted his head curiously and Gojo felt a headache form "I hear everything you know? From my maids... They always told me I should be lucky that I'm fated to you" (name) looked away and continued eating, book abandoned beside him as the smell of fury radiated from the Omega, Gojo sighing as he took a bite of his food. The food was phenomenal, seasoned perfectly and not one thing not amazing about it but he didn't comment "we can sort these things out when we go home" Gojo said finally, they would get everything in order when they returned home.

"I am home, I have no intentions of going anywhere with you" (name) said stiffly as he stood with an empty plate.

"Well, tough" Gojo said tired as he followed the Omega around the small farm house, cozy and warm "you're my Omega and I'm tired of this"

"Was I your omega when you screwed across the land?" (Name) Glared at him, he didn't care who he was or what strength he possessed... He was tired of everyone making choices for him! "You can go back to whatever life you had before, say I died or something... I know that there's countless omegas dying for a chance to be your fiance"

"Well if you're not going with me, in not going anywhere" Gojo said simply as he walked to the small couch and plopped down "you're like a child" (name) glared, wasn't even like he could go out, the rain so heavy.

"I'm going to bed" (name) grumbled as he went to his bedroom, Gojo getting up to follow but (name) slammed the door in his face.

This was going to be annoying, Gojo could feel it.

Come morning, (name) wore a loose shirt and sweatpants as he made himself his morning drink and stared at his mug sleepily as Gojo watched from the livingroom curiously, the other rubbed his eyes sleepily as calm and sweet pharamones filled the space. Gojo realized that this was the first time he could smell the others pharamones and not smell distress.

He never smelt anything so wonderful.

(Name) Set a mug of tea, brewed perfectly "how did..." "We were both given packets about one another, you pretended I didn't exist remember?"

Gojo had a feeling (name) wasn't going to let go of that anytime soon.

Gojo followed (name) around all day, when the Omega walked down the path towards the village "you really live out in the middle of nowhere" Gojo commented as they walked along the tree lined path, (name) holding a few bags "you know in Tokyo, I could have food delivered to us right?" Gojo remarked and (name) just ignored him, at least the Alpha had the sense to wear sunglasses instead of his mask so he didn't look insane "there's barely a connection out here" the Alpha remarked, (name) knew what he was doing and it wasn't working.

The villagers looked confused as (name) had a towering alpha follow him, the omega shopping as if he wasn't even there "(name)!" A couple kids ran up to the Omega who looked down curiously "what is it little ones?" (Name) Asked softly as the youngest clung to his leg, a little pup with wide eyes and a sweet smile "play with us!" One of the kids said excitedly and (name) smiled "maybe later little ones, I have errands I have to do" (name) ushered the children towards the small park area, Gojo watching the scene curiously.

"So why did you come looking for me? I thought you would have been elated at my sudden leaving" (name) asked as they walked home, Gojo forcing the other to let him hold the bags "my alpha... It practically destroyed half the estate when it found out you left... Geto ripped me a new one"

"So you had an epiphany and came here acting like everything would be fine" (name) said with a sigh and Gojo shrugged "I mean yeah" "and what? Expect me to be like 'oh thank you alpha! You're so kind and didn't make me feel worthless and your actions didn't cause me verbal and emotional abuse from my family!' been going to therapy and the therapist says you suck" (name) was way snarkier than Gojo thought he would be, he liked that his omega wasn't weak "I spent a year being on my own and doing what makes me happy, I don't want you messing that up"

"What do you even do out here?" Gojo asked and (name) shrugged "I have a part time job and I'm an active member of the community, no stress of either of our families... Everything is good"

"What would it take for you to come back?" Gojo asked "money? I can make sure you have everything you need"

"I don't want money, I don't want that stuff... I'm not marrying someone who doesn't love me and I don't love in turn"

Gojo spent the night thinking about it, while his omega slept peacefully in the other room and pulled out his phone to text Geto... He wasn't sure what to do.

[aurora-starwars]

When Something Gets Broken, It Can Be Fixed

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hecate daughter!reader

Summary: When Clarisse breaks her spear, your there to fix it

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Not proof read, not very good, oh well. Just fluff and very slight angst.

Request by @magicalengineerdonut:

I have a request for Clarisse. The reader could be a daughter of Hecate and it takes place during capture the flag and clarisse’s spear breaks and reader comforts her and the next day she comes back to clarisse with her spear that reader fixed and it ends with a cute moment between them

A/n: Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it! I am very excited to be getting into the PJO fandom. My friends have been raving about if for years! I am on the third book right now and I love the series so far. And I love Dior. Anyway, I would love to write more for this girl! So please request!

Masterlist

As the sun rose, it cast a soft, golden glow over Camp Half-Blood, signalling the start of another bustling day. The day of 'capture the flag' always stirred up excitement and anticipation among the campers, transforming the usually tranquil camp into a hive of activity.

It was a day that held great significance within the camp's traditions, and the palpable hustle and bustle was a testament to its importance. [Name] walked from her cabin to the training grounds in hopes to get a few more minutes to go over some defensive positions.

However, her contemplative silence was abruptly shattered by the commanding bark of instructions echoing from a voice she recognized all too well. The words were harsh, direct, and specific, as the head of the Ares cabin usually was. [Name] smiled at the sound of Clarisse La Rue’s pointed yelling, her direct and impersonal insults at the red team were a sign of her good mood.

If that was not enough of a sign, Clarisse looked over at [Name] when she finished speaking and smiled. It was a slight smile, [Name] will admit, but she saw it.

[Name] knew Clarisse very well. There was little that [Name] didn’t know about the girl at this point. And [Name] knew Clarisse had a plan.

“Where are you off to?” Clarisse asked, sauntering over as her hair, in a ponytail, swung behind her. [Name] always thought she was a sight to behold.

“Just on my way to the training grounds, care to join?” [Name] asked, already starting to make her way to the grounds, Clarisse falling into step beside her.

[Name] watched Clarisse face closely as they walked, hoping the girl might give up what she was thinking about. What she was planning.

When she didn’t say anything, [Name] took matters into her own hands.

“What are you planning?” [Name] smirked, her voice playful as watched Clarisse’s mouth twitch, the corners of her mouth turning upward ever so slightly. It looked like she was trying not to smile.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing, just planning on winning,” Clarisse smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. Something twinkled in them though, something like mischief…

“And this could have nothing to do with our new camper? The one kicked your ass in the washroom?” There was a careful teasing in [Name]’s voice, she was determined to get her point across but she was not willing to feel the force of Clarisse La Rue’s rage.

Clarisse only rolls her eyes. She scoffs and looks away. [Name] sniffles a giggle at vision of Clarisse, soaked in toilet water, running out of the washroom like a wet puppy. Clarisse abruptly stops and turns to [Name], bringing her thoughts from Clarisse to the reason she was there, the defensive positions. ”You know your job. I know you will do well,” Clarisse puts simply, her face remaining stoic, but her eyes betray her, conveying the fondness she tries so hard to hide.

[Name] nods as she walks away.

The game started as usual, the only difference was the direction Clarisse and some of her siblings ran, which [Name] thought was strange but knew not to question Clarisse about these things. The game moved quickly at the start, everyone running off into a different direction, [Name] doing the same. But after running a little further in the forest, she found her spot not far from the Red flag. There were only a few Ares kids protecting the Flag a few metres away but other than that, the forest was surprisingly empty. A stark contrast to a few minutes prior. There, [Name] took her stand, waiting for the blue team to come barreling in. The young Athena girl on the blue team had a brilliant plan for her to just run in with her invisibility cap and just take the flag. A plan she has used before, Clarisse was hoping that this time [Name]’s magic could somehow make it so the red team could actually see the young girl.

[Name] figured she could just make a small spell to not let magical items/gifts go past a barrier. It wasn’t strong and it would only work once, but it was better than nothing. Unfortunately, the spell could only protect the front of the flag, which left the back completely defenceless.

And, of course, Annabeth Chase would know that.

[Name] breaks out into a run after the floating red flag watching as the blue team breaks out into cheers as they see the flag floating quickly in their direction. [Name] slows down to a jog, knowing that if the Are’s kids couldn’t keep up with them, they had already won. And a well-deserved win at that. She could almost smile at the fact but as she comes up to the beach she hears the ear piercing scream of Clarisse. [Name] rushes in as Clarisse attempts to take the head off the new twelve year old. Grabbing her shoulders, [Name] pulls her away from the terrified boy. [Name]’s eyes lock on the broken spear on the floor as she walks Clarisse out and tries not to wince.

Her spear, her gift from her dad.

Turning Clarisse, [Name] gets a good look at her face. Clarisse’s face is rigid with anger, unmoving and unsurprisingly shocked, her eyes lock with [Name]’s. With her hands on Clarisse’s shoulders, she could feel the heavy breaths Clarisse was trying to take.

“Clarisse.”

“M-m…” She started quietly, her brows shifting from turned down to turned up and back again. Her eyes looking just past the daughter of Hecate in front of her, unfocused.

“Clarisse,” [Name] calls again.

“My… My spear,” Clarisse pants, her fists tightening around nothing.

“Clarisse!” [Name] calls louder, moving her hands from the Are’s girl’s shoulders to cup her face.

Clarisse finally snaps out of it, her eyes falling on the girl in front of her, her shoulders fall and she takes a deep breath.

“Oh Clarisse, I am so sorry,” [Name] brings her into a hug, one arm wrapped around the bigger girl and one holding her head, being careful of her curls.

She tucks her head into [Name]’s neck and takes a deep breath, when she lets it out her grip on the Hecate girl tightens, but her shoulders relax.

“Okay, love. Let’s get you back to your cabin,” [Name] whispers, gently caressing the strong girl’s face, finding that her hand comes back slightly damp, and [Name] knows its not from sweat.

The next afternoon, Clarisse was simmering moping on a bench by the training grounds when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Clarisse whipped around, standing up quickly, arms crossed, “What?! Oh, it’s just you.”

“Just me,” [Name] repeats, smile on her face.

Her smile causes Clarisse to drop her accusatory glare in favour of a curious head tilt.

“Where were you all day?”

[Name] shrugs, “Around, why? Missed me?”

Clarisse just pouts, brows furrowed, her face somewhere between annoyed and amused.

“Aww, was spending last night in my arms not enough for big, strong, Clarisse?” [Name] giggles, eyes watching the girl before her with fondness. Clarisse was always easy to read.

Clarisse remained silent, but her eyes screamed, ‘yes, it was not enough’.

“Well, don’t you worry. I am here now, and I brought a gift. Hopefully this makes you feel better,” [Name] pulls out Clarisse’s spear—completely fixed as if it hadn’t been broken to begin with— from behind her back, that she was somehow able to conceal.

Clarisse’s eyes blow wide, her arms dropping along with her jaw. She quickly takes the spear from [Name]’s hands, examining it. Feeling how the weight feels in her hands.

“How did you do this,” She questions, still looking at the spear with amazement.

[Name] shrugs, “I may not be a daughter of Hephaestus, but being the daughter of Goddess of witchcraft and sorcery has its benefits when it comes to magical artifacts.”

Clarisse puts the spear on the bench carefully before turning her attention to [Name], taking her face into her hands.

“You are the most beautiful, wonderful, talented, gorgeous,” she kisses [Name] passionately, pulling her closer, before parting again. “-adorable, skilled girl I have ever met.”

She connects their lips again, this time softer, gentler, lovingly.

“You know that?” she questions, looking into [Name]’s eyes.

[Name] giggles, “So, you like it?”

“Yes, dummy,” she kisses her again, a big smile evident as she presses her lips to [Name].

“Now it is time to wave my hot girl and my awesome spear in that little twerps face.”

Master-list

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I love you! <3333 Feel free to request! Check out my request guidelines, it might make it easier! <333333

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 4 to Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Something has changed; no, actually everything has changed as you and Simon forget the world a moment finally let that passion run its course. The thought was that once you both had each other it would make things calm, but now you're not so sure. Maybe he is willing to risk more and maybe you are too. Having to sneak around isn't so bad, right? Maybe it could all work out... At least you hope so.

Word Count: 9.3 k

Warnings:

Part 5: Read here

Isn’t finally having the thing you’ve been craving supposed to calm the need for it? 

That’s what Simon had anticipated would happen once you had both come, but as he lays you back onto the cool floor of the shed, sliding up between your legs so that your lips can reconnect with an immediate breathlessness, the depth of his desire is still so overwhelming that he is choking on it, he has never felt more wrong. Gathering your wrists into one of his hands, he sets them above your head as his brown eyes flutter closed and he embraces your mouth as if it is his to ruin and with enough passion you feel drugged off its intensity.

No, finally having you has awakened a longing in him that he has never known before and nothing can stop it taking over until he feels completely consumed by it. 

The sounds of the stormy weather outside slowly die away and are replaced by the stillness of night as Simon’s wide torso keeps you pinned against the ground as if by the act of physically shielding you from the world he can stop the passage of time and stay immersed in the haze of ecstasy that your union has produced. How is he supposed to break the spell of this feeling when he didn’t know how starved for it he actually was until you brought it to the surface?

Time is forgotten as the pressure of his body molds yours to its curvature and soon another quarter of an hour has passed within a blink. One of you has to be the voice of reason and the longer his face stays locked to yours, the harder it is going to get; it’s inevitable that this has to end for now because he is drowning and if he doesn’t come up for air soon he isn’t going to make it out of here alive. Something has to be done and done fast. 

“We need ta get outside,” he murmurs through a break in your mouth’s connection. 

Why can’t the world just fucking wait a little longer? Goddammit, he is nowhere near done exploring you yet, but there is still a job to be done and duty has to call him back no matter how much he tries to wish it away. 

With a defeated groan he pulls his lips away from yours and suddenly a wave of misery washes over him. “Fuck, this is hard, luv,” Simon breaths into your face, the tip of his nose brushing up against yours as he struggles to keep his mouth away from taking yours again. “Just wanna stay here with ya all night.”

A shiver runs through you as his withdrawal from your lips leaves an emptiness in your chest that the cool night air seems to fill. You yearn for his mouth to come back, for him to say fuck it all and put it all on the line just to stay in here with you, but it’s not possible. 

You don’t fight it as he sits you both upright, keeping his arms around you for as much warmth as possible as he reaches over to first grab your bra and shirt off the ground. He makes certain to clean you up before helping you to slip the clothing back on to block out the weather so that he can release you without the temperature making you chilled. Simon gets to his feet and offers you his hand to help you up and you take it. 

You continue to watch in quiet surprise as he gathers the rest of your clothing, everything that he had removed just a short while ago. Except instead of just handing it off to you he bends down with your pants in hand and opens them up so that you can step into them. It’s a strangely tender ritual that you’ve stumbled into, the way he helps you get dressed as he does the same to himself in tandem: insisting without words by gently pushing your hands away each time you try to stop him so that he can zip your pants and buckle your belt up himself. You stand there silently through the delirious haze of your ecstasy admiring his work as a peculiar tugging aches in your chest. 

Another shiver runs up your spine, but it isn’t from being cold this time. 

Everything he had on before goes back on again, even the mask, though you notice his bone-patterned gloves stay shoved in the pocket on his vest. As he finishes his eyes drift to the door with a heavy heart because he knows that he’s stalled long enough and he is going to have to pull the bandaid off now otherwise he is never going to want to leave and someone needs to be on watch. 

A deep inhale and he opens the door to the refreshing, crisp atmosphere outside of your oasis. Simon emerges into the world as a different man than the one that went inside. He has a new addiction that leaves him feeling drunk with the way his head is still spinning and limbs feel heavy. Never did he think he would be forced to wrestle with the fact that his duty to this taskforce is no longer the most important thing to him, that everything he has known as truth is being turned on its head, and that it would be all because of you. A little infatuation is becoming more complicated and he doesn’t know how to handle it all.

Your eyes flit back towards the house as Simon shuts and secures the shed behind you with your heart sinking into your stomach. Wracking your brain you can’t come up with any more excuses to linger longer and you know it’s time to say goodnight whether you want to or not. 

“I-I guess I better head in,” you say as the lieutenant comes back to stand by your side, the disappointment in your voice hard to disguise. 

There are words on your tongue that you want to say in that moment, to bargain with him to keep you out here a little longer, but they get lost behind your lips and you instead stay silent; there is no sense in fighting the inevitability of your situation. You try to take a step, but before you can even make it a pace Simon’s hand reaches out and his knuckles brush up against yours before he hooks his fingers around your own so you are stuck in his grasp.

The act is done unintentionally, yet he doesn’t stop it. Maybe you could risk just a bit more time together as long as you can stay outside. There’s still a couple hours till Soap is scheduled to relieve him, so whatever excuse he can make to keep you out here with him, he will. 

“Have a smoke with me ‘fore ya go,” he says, more a demand than a request. 

Maybe he’s just as desperate not to have you go yet either; you can only hope that he needs your company just as bad as you need his. “Is that an order, lieutenant?” you clarify, playing off the nervous adrenaline making your voice tremble by teasing. 

As he peers back into your eyes sparkling in the moonlight, lighting up happily at the sentiment in his words, the attraction gripping his heart is too strong and he draws you back into him as he rips up the bottom of his mask to place another brief, but impassioned kiss to your lips. “It is, sergeant,” he answers. “Let me do my perimeter check and I’ll meet ya back at the front. Wait for me, yeah?”  

Those strong arms of his desperately want to stay filled with your body, but he has to let you go so that he can do what he is here to do. Another quick kiss he gives you before he pulls down his mask as he leaves you standing there in a stupor, head reeling with everything that has happened, and you take off back to the patch of ground a few yards from the front of the house where you had been set up before. 

Sitting in the grass under the stars with the cool breeze rippling through the loose strands of your hair, you think yourself alone for the moment as the thoughts race through your mind, but from within the house a pair of eyes secretly watches you from the shadow of the window. Even in the pale moonlight they catch the way your smile glints through the dark followed by the several deep breaths you take to calm yourself and they wonder if this is a result from the lieutenant walking out earlier that rustled them from sleep. 

Maybe it is nothing, something completely harmless, though they can’t help to wonder where you both were when the storm was at its peak. They continue watching until they hear footsteps near the front of the house and decide to creep back to their bed to avoid detection both from inside and out, making a mental note to stay aware of what they have seen tonight. 

You wait patiently in silence as you mull over your feelings until the sound of fast-stepping boots approaching breaks you out of your thoughts and looking up you see Simon has stopped right at your side. He shifts back a step and takes a seat on the ground behind you, parting his legs around your thighs so that you are seated between them. Tugging you to scoot back until you are against his chest he grabs the pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket as an arm snakes around your middle.

Keeping his hands off you isn’t an option anymore, not as the enchanting magnetism of your body that calls for his touch still tingles under his fingertips.

Moving his mask up and out of the way and placing the stick of tobacco in between his lips, he flicks the lighter to make it spark and takes a long pull as the tip glows bright orange. That first kick of nicotine he holds in to let it fully coat his lungs until the calming effect it produces fills his chest and pacifies his heavily beating heart. He exhales the billow of smoke and takes another puff before handing it down to you.

You’re not much of a smoker, but accept the cig willingly if only for it to chill you out so that you might be able to sleep once you leave here to go back to the house. Bringing it to your lips, you inhale deep as Simon’s head rests up against the side of yours. The contact causes you to shudder in his arms

“Are ya cold?” he asks, tilting his head around the side to catch your face in his sight. 

You shake your head, releasing the smoke from your mouth with a smile. “Not anymore” you answer as you pass the cig back for him to take his turn and settle against him. 

“Good,” he says through the inhale he takes, “can’t have ya bein’ uncomfortable, not wit me.”

There is a peace that settles over you both, cloaking you in a silence that doesn’t feel forced or uncomfortable. No words are needed to fill in the space, nothing that has to be said aloud anyway, as two people simply enjoy the physical company of the other, passing a cigarette back and forth taking shorter and shorter puffs to make it last as long as possible.  

The fact you cannot stay here in this moment for as long as you want feels like a crime.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, your gaze shifts towards the sky and you can see the clouds drifting away into the distance to reveal the clear night full of stars that has been concealed behind them. You stare up at those twinkling bits of light with a sense of wonder, unaware that Simon has not followed your gaze heavenward. 

“Clouds are finally clearing out,” you say offhandedly. “Guess the storm’s passed on. You know, I always like how beautiful the sky is after a heavy rain. All that chaos leads to everything becoming so pristine.”

There is something here that he finds beautiful, but it isn’t what’s swirling up above your heads; he’s holding it in his arms. He wants to say it aloud, he can feel the sentiment tickle the back of his throat, but for a reason he does not quite understand he stops himself and simply hands you back the cigarette after he takes his turn.  

It isn’t long until the cig has dwindled to nothing and once again you are thrust back into the reality of having to part. You check your watch as Simon flicks the butt away; it’s getting late and you need to get inside to try and get some rest so that you will be able to at least function tomorrow. 

“I should go, your relief will be coming before too long,” you say as the feeling of his lips pressing to your neck.

Simon nods against your shoulder as he too knows it’s time. He releases his arm from around you as he shifts you back to face him; one last look at you before you go.

Why is it so hard to find the words? He’s never been as tongue tied as he has been around you, but he’s able to settle on a phrase that he finds suitable enough. “Sleep well, yeah?” he says and you give a smile in response.

The feeling of his mouth hits you as he leaves you with one last kiss for you to take and you move up onto your feet a little less gracefully than you want after he breaks it. Your hand trails over his shoulder as you take off towards the house without looking back, feeling that you are stepping out of a dream as you make it to the door and shut it behind you.

His sight remains on your form until you step back inside the confines of the house and out of view. Suddenly being alone in all this silence has his mind spinning as it goes over the events that have transpired tonight. He’s usually so in control of himself, years of training making him the perfect soldier to push everything aside except for the task at hand, but now his emotions are running rampant through his veins.  

Though you’ve not really been too close before this, you aren’t strangers. Simon knows you already: he has been around you long enough to understand your sense of humor, your work ethic, how well you boost morale during long missions, your constant kindness no matter the circumstance, and you know him in similar ways too. It comes with the familiarity of serving together for the last couple of years, making the quick intensity of your intimacy so natural.

Taking another cigarette from his pack, he inhales more of the numbing smoke as his mind involuntarily wanders back to how you felt in his arms and how perfectly your curves fit into their embrace. It’s better than he had ever hoped it to be during all those restless nights he spent telling himself that his infatuation with you would pass, that you deserved better than a bastard like him, that he should leave you alone. Now with everything that has happened between you and even though he knows it's wrong, he needs you so fucking bad… what he deserves be damned.  

You make him feel alive for the first time in years and fuck is that something that has him in it’s clutches.

Now he just has to figure out how to keep this up without detection. The lieutenant ponders the rest of the night until he is suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. “Ya came back for…” he says as he turns with a smile on his exposed lips as if expecting you to be standing there only to be met with the masculine, stubble-covered face of his other sergeant, causing him to startle and rise to his feet, dropping his nearly finished cigarette as he scrambles to calculate a way to explain his statement.

“Came back?” Soap questions, his eyebrow raised curiously as a knowing smirk spreads across his mouth. “Nah, first time I been out ‘ere. Didn’t mean to scare ye, just ‘ere as yer relief. Seems yer a bit lost in yer head tonight LT. Were ye expectin’ someone else?”  

A quick clearing of his throat as the lieutenant stomps out the butt of his smoke and pulls down his mask to hide the surprise on his face. “No,” he says firmly, “just didn’t expect ya ta be so fuckin’ quiet. It’s not like ya ta not make noise.”

Soap eyes the lieutenant up and down, but doesn’t push his joking any further, even though he has the perfect opportunity to pick on his superior because even in the dim light outside he is sure that his shirt is on backwards. The look in the lieutenant’s eyes says it all, that he doesn’t want to be messed with, and the young sergeant decides it best to leave it alone by sending the lieutenant on his way with nothing more than a nod as he takes up the post.   

By the time Simon reaches the inside of the house, you are already fast asleep in your cot from what he can see in the darkness that fills the room. You have always caught his eye, but God, you look so fucking beautiful just in your natural state. He quickly surveys the room to be sure everyone is still out before he quietly and carefully steps up to your side on the way to his own bed. 

 With a light touch his fingertips gently brush over the loose hair near your ear to tuck it securely behind as he studies your calm and serene face. You don’t stir and he doesn’t want to wake you, so he creeps back over to lay down in his own cot, keeping his eyes focused on your form through the pitch black until sleep finally takes him as only one thought rolls through his mind.

Tomorrow evening can't come soon enough. 

The day goes off just as it should without a hitch, though the way the lieutenant has had to keep his distance from you has proved to be much more agonizing than he had hoped. So, as soon as everyone is asleep, he does not hesitate to join you near the end of your watch the same as the night before. The thrill of this new and exciting connection is the catalyst that pushes him to ignore any warnings in his mind to take this slow; he wants to be near you as much as he can as he realizes that he can’t deny what he wants if he is going to keep up appearances when the sun is out. 

Sitting in the spot that is becoming the usual meeting place, you are caught by surprise as his rough palm grazes the skin underneath your chin as he tilts it back to him while his other hand cradles the back of your head. His full lips are already exposed so that the moment your eyes meet he is already bowing his head to envelope your mouth entirely with his own so hard that the hair on his jaw pricks your face as his tongue slips in to taste you.

And the midnight world behind your closed eyelids explodes into fireworks.

Minutes pass without a care as his kisses take you away into a realm of pure bliss, the passion collapsing any reality outside of him and the microcosm his touch creates. In that timelessness wrapped in all of that euphoria he finally breaks away to rest his hand against your cheek, silently stroking it with the pad of his thumb as that piercing gaze follows the contours of each and every detail that comprises your face as if he wants to commit them all to memory. 

“What?” you ask quietly after a few seconds, curious about what he is thinking.

He shakes his head as he answers. “Nothin’,” he says quietly without stopping. “Just like lookin’ at ya is all.”  

Breathing becomes near impossible as the tug on the strings of your heart is enough to make you collapse. Who would have guessed that behind that rough exterior that the lieutenant dressed himself in day after day is a man whose heart is bigger than he lets on? It is clear from his kiss alone that he has been struggling all day to keep it together just as you have, but now that you are back together again all that evaporates into thin air.

Simon takes his place sitting wrapped around your body and the moment his hands brush against the bare skin of your arms, your breath catches in your chest and your pulse begins to race. The feeling of the heavy pounding he can sense through his palms and that excitement immediately floods his body, making his touch start to wander.

“You aren’t concerned about anyone catching us?” you ask as you lean into his chest. 

Simon shakes his head. “They can’t see anythin’ from this angle,” he reassures. “I gotcha, don’t worry; I just need ta feel ya again, pretty girl. But tell me ta fuckin’ stop and I will.”

Those strong fingers play cautiously around the waistband of your pants as he waits for your response. His body is beginning to vibrate with how instantaneous his need overtakes him as you are under his touch again. 

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. “Don’t ever fucking stop, Simon.”

You can feel his lips near your ear. “Open your legs for me,” he urges in a deep, guttural groan that makes the hair on your arms stand up as he uses both hands to undo your pants and slip inside them. 

Everything goes so fast after that: the way he has you moaning and panting like a dog in heat is almost too easy and before you can think your pants are off and he is desperately thrusting his aching cock inside you. It is becoming apparent that his appetite for you is insatiable and as you come you realize that this is going to be a delicious problem that you don’t want to find a solution to other than this.

“Just so ya know, pretty sure your pal Mactavish knows somethin’s up ‘tween us, though,” he chuckles as you finish fixing your clothes and sit back down facing him. 

You knew this was a possibility, especially after all the jokes he’s been making lately, but hearing it out loud just solidifies a worry you’ve had rummaging around in your head since the beginning of all this. The anxiety must be present on your face as Simon feels compelled to continue. 

“If he wanted to, he coulda done something about his suspicions long ‘fore now. Just wants ta be a little shit ‘bout it is all,” he says.

That’s not what concerns you the most; Johnny has never betrayed your trust before and you are mostly sure he wouldn’t now. No, getting caught doesn’t seem half as distressing as the thought that has you in its chokehold. You hold Simon’s gaze with worry in your eyes. “Does this mean we shouldn’t do this again? I mean… if Johnny suspects then that means something must have been a sign to give us away and any of them could pick up on it as well.”

“Is that what ya want?” he questions back as a lump forms in his throat that he desperately tries to swallow down. “Do ya want ta stop this?”

Simon knows this would be the best option, to call it before things get even more out of hand than they already are, but as he waits anxiously for your answer all he can think about is how much it’s gonna fucking hurt if you pull away from him now.

“See, that’s the problem,” you admit with hesitance as you divert your gaze, unable to look into his face; you can’t take this back once you say it aloud. The intensity of it all has you unsure of yourself, but there is something about Simon that causes you to be honest, even to a fault. 

“I don’t want to stop,” you sigh.

The instantaneous relief that immediately hits is overwhelming and unconsciously Simon’s hand reaches out to turn your face back to him. “Then I don’t either,” he confirms as the pad of his thumb strokes over the smooth skin until your features soften and he can finally steady his pounding heart again. “We’ll just have ta be careful is all. I’ve… wanted to be near ya for a long while now, even before Mactavish pulled me into his silly fuckin’ game, and it would fuckin’ tear me up to give it all up so soon.” 

He had thought about you before? It surprises you to learn that you weren’t the only one that was struggling with infatuation. “Really?” you ask.

Simon nods as he takes your hand in his. “Needed ya for so fuckin’ long, thought I was gonna lose my goddamn mind. It’s been hard tryin’ to keep my distance. Christ, I used ta get so fuckin’ worked up at seein’ other recruits askin’ ya out, thought I was gonna break one of ‘em cause I wanted that ta be me.”

“Well, you have to worry about that anymore,” you say as you watch him gently play with your fingers. “I never wanted any of them anyway; they weren’t worth the trouble.”

“Then what do ya want, hmm?” he asks, watching you closely.

You look up from your hands to his face. “You,” the answer just comes out effortlessly. 

That word, that one fucking simple ass word is the only thing he has ever needed to hear. From that moment on there isn’t a night that passes without him finding some way to see you, whether it be for minutes or hours, he does what he must to get to your side. Even if the days are long and rough, he is missing sleep to be with you however he can.

It isn’t just about the sex, though his need for you stays insatiable. Simon starts to talk with you about anything and everything: what’s on his mind, anecdotes from his past, funny things to make you laugh, and you find yourself sharing in turn as well. On nights when things are too risky to even touch you as he wants, he finds himself just content to sit and share the thoughts in his head. It’s so easy to talk to you that sometimes he finds himself feeling like you’ve always been this way and it catches him off-guard how right it seems.

Time on this mission passes quickly in your company and sooner than you realize it is time to return to base, another success under your belts. You’ve both built a strange routine on your time away that you bring with you back home, though you’ve yet to have the discussion of defining what this is. Honestly, you don’t feel the need to; you are committed to him and he seems committed to you and in your line of work where guarantees aren’t always an option, that is enough. 

The only problem in returning is now that you are back you’ve gotten closer to the source of danger and with every risk you take as you navigate how to keep this all up, there are more scrutinizing gazes around to take notice of the bond you’ve formed. You’ll have to be twice as sneaky, twice as vigilant, twice as cunning to make sure you aren’t found out. Ultimately, it is a small price to pay because the alternative does not even register. You both make the promise to each other to do what you can to keep up this charade of normalcy to try and not get caught; whatever you have to do to keep seeing each other like this.  

But there are also benefits to being back, like dreaming about how you can actually screw around in a bed instead of on the ground or in a dilapidated building, if only you can figure out how to get some alone time. From the moment you set foot on home soil it’s like everything and everyone is determined to keep you both too busy to find the time after a mission that could not have gone smoother. 

And of course you can’t forget that Johnny is going to organize a night out at the bar now that you have a bit of free time. It’s his second favorite pastime, the first being a nuisance. It is right after debriefing the day after your return that the scottish sergeant catches up to you to tell you the news and make sure that you are on board for the plan.

“Yer comin’ yeah?” he asks as he finishes giving you all the details about when the usual group is gonna take off later that night.

Goddammit, you curse internally. 

All you want to do is get a few measly hours with the man your heart pines for daily now, but that option is immediately crushed the moment Johnny utters the question. Of course you can’t say no, it’ll look suspicious to back out without any reason since you’ve never backed out of these sorts of things before. Simon loiters not a few feet away, having hoped he could capture you a moment just to steal a quick word and maybe a kiss, and you sneak a quick glance over at him, hoping he can read the apologetic expression in your eyes.

Your glance doesn’t seem to be subtle enough and Johnny follows the hastiness of your eye-line over to none other than the lieutenant who is standing at the end of your gaze. You hold your breath a second as you wait to see what he will say, but instead of making another snide, knowing joke at your expense, it’s like he only just now realized that he has left someone out of his plan and that won’t do. 

“Oi, LT, yer coming too, yeah?” he calls over to ask.

Soap’s timing might be terrible, but the idea of there being less people on base tonight might just play to the lieutenant’s favor. Perhaps after a bit of socializing you both can somehow slip away from the crowd and get some alone time together. It’s worth a try. 

“I guess,” Lt. Riley agrees, playing up the agitation in his voice to mask his true feelings.

Johnny turns his attention back to you. “See, even the lieutenant is coming. Are ye?”

You huff exasperatedly as you see from the corner of your vision Simon nod his head, giving you a sign to agree to go and it clicks. This might be a way to get near him again. “Fine, you got me. Who else is gonna keep you in check when alcohol is involved?” you pick as you sock your fist into his shoulder. “Can’t have you getting us banned from our favorite place over some bullshit.”

The bar is only fifteen minutes from the base, just close enough that you can all walk without having to drive; something that has saved your drunk asses on several occasions. You walk at the back of the group as thankfully Johnny is involved in a heated discussion with Gaz about something and is too busy to keep his eyes on you. Simon slips in close a few times to brush his knuckles against yours while shooting you hungry glances.  

You all settle into the routine of hanging at the local spot just as you always do; Johnny’s even wrangled a few others from base that weren’t on your recent team so that the tiny bar is packed with taskforce members. Everyone gets started on round one and then two, though you are able to keep nursing the one drink you ordered when you got here all night as you need to keep your wits while Simon is close.

A bit of laughter, a lot of conversation, and a couple of games of pool where you kick Johnny’s ass once he’s good and liquored up and the night is going fast. That’s when the lieutenant decides that he can’t take it anymore. You have both allotted enough of your night here that it wouldn’t look suspicious to head out and he decides it’s time; he wants to get you alone and if he doesn’t act soon the night will be over. Getting up from his seat he makes his move over to the wall where you are putting up your pool cue before you head back to the table with the rest of your teammates. He is at your side in no time and you nearly bump into him as you turn around, but he catches you so you don’t fall.

Simon leans in close against the side of your head and lowers his voice into a gruff whisper; he has to make this quick. “Ya wanna get outta ‘ere?”

Never have you agreed to something so fast before that you don’t even have to think about it; quickly you nod. 

“Meet me outside in ten, I’ll be waitin’,” he continues before pulling away expeditiously, hoping the interaction is brief enough that no one has seen. Your eyes dart down to your watch to catch the time so that not a second will be wasted, wanting to follow his directions to the letter. 

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you watch the lieutenant walk back to the table, finish off his scotch, and grumble his quick goodbyes before stalking towards the door and out into the night air. Each second that the clock ticks away takes what feels like an eternity and it is agony waiting for the last bit to pass so that you make your excuses to leave. 

The second hand finally hits the tenth minute mark and you immediately jump into making your excuse that you’re just really tired all of a sudden and need to head out before the alcohol makes you trip over yourself. It takes you a minute to placate the group, the lie seems flimsy at best, but  when you do you dart for the door before you can get pulled into any more conversations. 

Once outside you find Simon patiently standing there propped against the brick of the building near the corner where he is cloaked in shadow, taking a long drag from an almost finished cigarette that he holds in between his long fingers. The faint orange light glowing from the tip dances across the lower half of his exposed face to get caught in his eyes, making him look animalistic in the low light of the parking lot.

That autumn gaze pops up as he hears the approach of footsteps and he instantly flicks away the butt of his cig before you make it to him and he can immediately pull you close.

“Hope you weren’t havin’ too much fun back there,” he says with a nervous chuckle, “but it …uh… was gettin’ hard to sit there with ya so close and not be able to fuckin’ touch what I want. Couldn’t wait anymore.” 

“Likewise,” you agree. “I was ready to go.”

He can feel the way you tremble in his grasp as your eyes keep falling back to the area of his lips; it’s been a few days, you must be dying for them again just as much as he is dying for yours. Being under your relentlessly intimate gaze again has him growing hot and hungry and throwing caution to the wind he cannot hold back until you are completely safe.

“Come ‘ere,” he says as he pulls you by the belt until your body is flush against him. “Jus’ a quick one ‘fore someone sees.”

Not wasting a second he urgently leans his head down to meet your lips and take them with force and in a flash he is reeling through the overwhelming beast of his desire, not wanting to let go even to leave this unprotected spot. The strength it takes to break the magnetism causes his body to shudder, but eventually he is able to pry his lips away long enough so that he can break their charm. 

“Let’s get back to mine quick, yeah?” he struggles to ask against your lips as he is suddenly out of breath. “Don’t think they’ll miss us now and I’m done wastin’ time. Need ta take this opportunity ta spend some alone time with ya.”  

How could you say no to that? You aren’t about to pass up on a chance to be with Simon. Even though you don’t know how long you have, any amount of time is enough and you will make the most of it. “Let’s go,” you say and like that you both take off into the night.  

His hands stay plastered to your body the entire walk back, the forbidden nature of your endeavor to get onto base and into his quarters undetected making you both excited to the point of disorientation as pulses begin to race violently. The closer you get the more warm your cheeks become as sensitive nerve endings spark to life across your limbs and a familiar heat gathers between your thighs.

Hurriedly Simon opens the door and pulls you into the confines of his dimly lit room, the door quickly closing behind you both with a quiet latch. No sooner has the door shut than he is on you, crushing you in between him and the door as his mouth can’t stand being separated from yours anymore. 

“Goddammit, I just can’t fuckin’ leave ya be,” he breathes against your parted lips as he pulls your hip in tighter to him until he is sure you can feel the bulge forming in the crotch of his jeans. A pulsing meets your thigh as he rotates until you can feel that thick appendage prod into the muscle. “Ya feel how hard I am already, yeah? That’s what ya do to me, luv. Got me actin’ like I’m fuckin’ young again, excited ‘nd horny all the goddamn time.”

His hands now grasping at your shirt take hold and pull the scant article up over your head to toss to the floor. Your hands immediately move to his pants as he takes off his shirt to throw it next to yours; you have to remove any barrier between your bodies. In a flurry of lips and limbs you find yourselves naked as Simon pulls you to his bed ready to devour you… only instead of lust being the only emotion he feels, there is something else there.

In the quiet of his room the tension permeates the space like a heavy fog as he sits down on the soft surface of his mattress and pulls you on top of his lap. As skin is pinned to bare skin he is overcome with emotion and his hands begin to caress your body with such admiration as if you are made of something sacred. Walls he’s built up to keep everyone out have been dissolving since you were thrust into his life and now all of that comes to a head in this moment as he has to come to terms with how much he really cares for you.

There is a void inside of him that only you can fill. 

Those rough hands run up the length of your spine so tenderly, flat palms gliding over the curve of your smooth, exposed skin as he peers up into your face with clear intention. The way his eyes sparkle in the low light as he looks at you, his stare full of something more than just lust, makes your heart pound wildly in your chest. 

What is happening? You can feel the shift in the air as the passion you both have towards each other morphs into something cosmic in its intensity and suddenly you can’t breathe. It is overwhelming to be looked at like this, as if he would burn everything to the fucking ground and salt the earth just to have you, but you don’t want him to stop.

For so fucking long he has been waiting for something he never thought he would get to have. Yet the moment you touched him everything changed; you have broken him out of that state of being nothing more than a stoic statue, a man hardened by life so that he never let anything break past the barriers he erected, but suddenly that vicious cycle of wanting and never getting is finally over. And you did it all without ever even knowing it. 

Now the future actually feels like something he could look forward to, as long as you are in it.

“What?” you ask as his silent autumn gaze drifts over your body before it returns to your face.

“I hope ya know that you’re all I fuckin’ want,” he says with conviction as he leans up into you while grabbing your hips tightly so that he can flip you over onto your back, his body weight crushing you into the springs of the mattress. “That goddamn kiss did me in and I ain’t ever comin’ back. You belong ta me, ya hear? I don’t care ‘bout nothin’ else.”

“I’m all yours Simon,” you reassure with confidence. “And you are mine.”

Fiery kisses assault your mouth in desperate fashion, aggressively capturing your lips as if he hasn’t seen you in weeks as his fingers trace burning lines down your abdomen and over the curve of your hips. Pupils dilate and breaths hitch as nerve endings explode to life until you are bucking and writhing against his touch.

Your fingertips graze across the bulky muscles of his abdomen, dancing over the sparse covering of hair that leads down his V line to his pelvis and the sound of him trying to gulp down air to fill his lungs as his breath gets caught in his throat matches your own desperate sounds.

Fuck your touch sets him on fire more than it ever has and with a growl he moves down your body hastily as a new impulse takes control: to strap you to his face and suffocate. You barely have time to react as he reaches his destination at the end of the bed and lays himself flat on the mattress, his head moving in between your legs without hesitation. The hair on his chin pricks the delicate skin of your inner thighs to force you to whine as he uses his first two fingers to open you up so that he can nestle the tip of his tongue between your petals. 

His tongue drags up the length of your slit to collect that first bit of sweet juice to bloom along his taste buds before he reaches your aching clit where he teases feathery light circles around it to make you squirm before he thrust the pad up against it. There he begins to stroke with vigorous movements that are spurred on by the beautiful music he is causing you to make.  

So soft, so wet, so warm, why is this the first time he’s eaten you out? He has been denying himself of all this for what? Simon can hardly breathe, but he has never felt more alive.

Your vision blurs as you clamp your eyes shut, your head falling back while a back-arching vibration of pleasure throbs through your clit and you bite your bottom lip hard, trying to remember how to intake air through the haze caused by the intensity of his pace as with every press and movement from his tongue draws you closer to that razors edge.

Steadily that pressure continues to build as he takes the cues from your body on exactly how to tongue-fuck you into your orgasm. Sucking and licking, each stroke feverish, but effective. Nothing exists in the entire world outside of this bed: not consequences or repercussions that could come from getting caught, not reprimands or disciplinary actions that could lead to the ruination of both your careers. The ecstasy of you is worth all the goddamn bullshit you both may face for being together.

He desires you to the point of obsession and you crave him just as terribly.

Your honey coats his face, clinging to his cheeks and through the stubble on his jaw as his desire to fill your pussy with his cock takes hold, consuming him to the brink of insanity so that he is forced to rip his face out from within you. “Sorry, not done; need ta be inside ya,” he groans, needy and out of breath. “Want us to come togetha. You an me, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes, together” you moan incoherently as you grip the sheets in your fists to steady yourself for what’s to come.

Sliding between your legs he positions himself on his knees and throws your ankles up onto his shoulders as he has to get as deep as he fucking can. He can see the glistening from between your lips and he knows you’re ready for him; there is no hesitation once he has you situated and with a strong thrust he is fully inside of you down to the very base of his cock.

Your hands rip from the covers and your fingernails dig into the muscles along his shoulder blades as you cry out while your body adjusts to his girth, each twitch as it throbs inside you pulsing against your g spot in the best way. Simon hisses as he struggles to collect himself as he bottoms out; he’s had you countless times at this point, but every single time the sensation your body produces is enough to make him see God.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs as he regains his composure enough to start slowly thrusting in and out, hips rolling over yours with a need that only grows. “Ya always have been. Fuck… I can’t believe how lucky I am ta get ta have ya ‘ere all to myself.” 

Each snap of his hips that shoves his cock deeper and deeper into you is a physical reminder that you are his, that you belong to him, and each buck of your body is a response that says claim me forever.  He wants to possess every single last centimeter of you, steal away all your sanity until there is nothing left of you except for him, and so he desperately grinds harder and harder to try and fill you full enough.

His thick abs contract and release with each thrust as he looks down on you, admiring the bright flush in your cheeks from his passionate movements. Each movement makes him strain harder and harder until his torso is coated in a thin, glistening layer of perspiration and yours is right there with him.

“Come on, baby,” he guides you through it, “I need ya to finish with me. I’m so fuckin’ close.”

Right there. It’s right fucking there; the precipice inching within reach with each stroke as your body readies itself to take the plunge. That warmth gathering at the base of your spine grows stronger causing your brows to knot together as your toes curl.

“Close,” you whimper. 

He’s almost there. “That’s it, sweetheart, just let go for me,” he praises as he reaches down between your bodies so that his fingers can stroke over your clit as he strains to keep himself from coming by digging his fingertips into your hip. 

A few more strokes as his fingers and cock work in tandem and the overwhelming sensation is enough to cause that deep ache finally find its remedy and your orgasm pops off, shooting through you like magma until your limbs go numb. Through your cries he picks up the pace and finally the warmth that had been building shoots through his body as he rips his cock out of you and buries it in the mattress underneath you as he milks himself dry.

Simon’s head hangs slack against your calves as his unsteady breath slowly returns to a tolerable rhythm before he removes your legs from his shoulders and rolls over onto the bed beside you, situating himself propped up on his pillow before pulling you closer to rest against his chest so that he can feel your pulse through his torso. You wrap your arm around his waist and hold on as you both simply breath until you have it under control.

Silently you bask in the glow of your euphoria as he holds you close, enjoying your presence in the place Simon’s never brought another person before. It’s a surreal experience to allow someone in so easily, but with you there is no other choice. He is lost in that thought until he notices how you begin to slump against him and he looks down to see you struggling to keep yourself awake. 

“I better go before I fall asleep,” you say softly as your tired eyes flutter to try and stay open as the exhaustion lulls you steadily towards slumber. “Don’t wanna get caught leaving in case anyone decides to head back early.”

His arms tethering you to his chest stay locked tightly around you. It is a terrible fucking idea and he knows it, but that stoic lieutenant cannot deny himself of what he wants, not tonight; he doesn’t want you to leave him alone again. 

“No,” he says with a hushed firmness in his tone. “Stay.”

Lifting your head up off his body, you turn your gaze up to look into his face. “You sure?” you ask skeptically as the palpitations of your heartbeat flood your ears. 

Surely he’s just taking the piss, right? You haven’t forgotten the promise you both made to be extra cautious and yet…you have to admit that you desperately want to stay.   

Simon’s opposite arm resting at his side moves across his bare torso until his hand can find and pick up the one you have lying against his chest. Silently he slips his fingers through the spaces in between your own, interlocking them together before he rests them back against his warm skin. It is a gesture that says all he needs it to say without having to utter a single word: he’s not going to let you go.

“They’ll be too fuckin’ hungover tomorrow to notice ya aren’t in your bed,” he murmurs into the dark. “You’re already tired, just stay ‘ere tonight.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop what your heart wants and your worn out mind agrees. As you settle back down against him he brings his hand up to comb his fingers gently through your hair in a lazy, repetitious pattern until you are putty in his hands. 

What the fuck am I doin’? he thinks to himself as you lay in the crook of his arm slowly falling asleep to the sound of his calm and metered heartbeat. From the moment he finally had that first taste of you it is like everything has been turned on its head: priorities he once held as important are now shifting and thoughts he never imagined he’d have about someone suddenly seem closer than they have ever been.

He’s never allowed himself to get this close to anyone, never wanting to let another in enough to know him more than surface level, but with you it just seems so effortless. Now all he wants is to keep you around more permanently so that he can fall asleep lying next to you more nights. Everything is so clear when you are close and he doesn’t want to let it go; that both thrills and terrifies him. 

Though he cannot admit it to himself yet, not even to think of the word, he knows that he is falling hard and for the first time in a long while he is happy.

In this line of work, though, things can go south in an instant and if you don’t stay on your toes you can fall. And unfortunately things are about to come crashing down hard.

Those same pair of eyes that had been watching you both from the window of the safehouse are now glaring with rage at the lieutenant’s door as their owner’s blood boils over. The man watched you both leave the bar in a hurry, snuck out and caught you both kissing outside, followed you back to base and watched as you immediately headed for the lieutenant’s quarters, and now they are watching as you don’t seem to be leaving anytime soon and he is done.

Enough is fucking enough; he can’t take it anymore. The man wouldn’t feel so scorned by these actions if you had not previously turned him down when he had made his advances, citing that as flattered as you were that it wasn’t smart to get involved with anyone on the taskforce. “Would be inappropriate” you cited as the only reason you had to say no.  

And yet here you are sneaking around with the lieutenant like it’s nothing. 

No, if he couldn’t even be given a chance with you due to propriety, then why should your masked superior be given special treatment? He decides at that moment that he isn’t going to turn a blind eye anymore to this bullshit and immediately he turns heel to head in the direction of the officers building, hoping to catch the one person he knows can set this right. 

Captain Price sits behind the desk in his office even though it is late, obliviously absorbed in his work until he hears the repetitious knocks of someone standing at his open door followed by a familiar voice that draws his attention. A man stands there waiting for his admittance inside.

“Captain Price, sir,” the man addresses him formally. “I apologize for the late hour, I know you’re busy, but I need to speak with you.”

Price is intrigued by the urgency in his subordinate’s tone, it makes this impromptu visit seem vital that they speak. Knowing things around here it is most likely a problem that isn’t as bad as it seems and he nods for the man to come in, but he doesn’t move from his spot. “In private sir,” he insists.

“Shut the door,” Price agrees to the confidentiality and the soldier makes sure the door is secure before he comes to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Price waits until he is situated before pushing further as to what exactly has brought the soldier here. “Now, what’s this about then? Let’s get on with it.”

The soldier nods and starts talking. “I have some information that I think you will want to know about, sir. About rules that are being broken around here without your knowledge.”

“What sort of rules?” he asks, raising a bushy brow as he leans back in his chair; the soldier has his full attention now.

He has to tell; it isn’t right. No matter what the lieutenant has threatened to do to him if he says anything, he will not let this slide a minute more. “Misconduct between the lieutenant and your female sergeant and them engaging in an inappropriate relationship,” the private says, irately. “In fact, this isn’t the first time I’ve caught them either. And I know where they are right now.”

[vanteguccir]

Loving without restrictions | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N and Chris have been keeping their relationship a secret for just over a year until one day where Y/N feels ready to announce it; OR, where Y/N and Chris soft launch their relationship.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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It was a typical Thursday morning, with the sun shining strongly against the outside walls of the house, keeping it warm. Inside the comfort of the room, Y/N and Chris were lying on their bed, wrapped in each other's arms after waking up. The rays of warm LED lights danced softly over their skin as they exchanged caresses, each touch filling the room with tenderness.

Chris, with his messy hair and a lazy smile on his lips, watched Y/N with adoration. His eyes conveyed a mix of love and gratitude for having her there.

Meanwhile, Y/N was in deep thought. Her eyes were fixed on the white ceiling as her mind studied the complexities of keeping their relationship a secret. As she stroked Chris's hair and felt the comforting warmth of his embrace, her mind was in a whirl, revisiting the moments when they agreed to keep things a secret.

She considered the reasons that led them to this decision. The pressure of the triplets' fandom, the intense attention from social media, the invasion of privacy that comes with public exposure - it all weighed on her mind. The girl vaguely remembered the heartfelt conversations they had, the mutual concerns about how fans would react to their relationship. It was a delicate dance between the desire to share her happiness with the world and the need to protect her own privacy.

However, despite all the rational arguments that accumulated in her mind, there was an undeniable desire that consumed her. She wanted to be able to shout to the world that Chris was hers, without restrictions. She wanted to be able to walk hand in hand with him down the street without worrying about some fan seeing them and commenting on Twitter about it. She wanted to be able to appear in the triplets' videos as Chris's girlfriend, not as just a friend.

While reflecting on the pros and cons, Y/N noticed that, despite all her fears, her love for Chris transcended all worries. Despite the challenges they would face, their connection was stronger than any of it. She knew it was time to put aside her fear, despite not knowing how to deal with his fans or fame, she wanted to be able to look Chris in the eye and say with pride that he was hers, in every sense of the word.

So, between the light pecks of Chris's lips on her skin and the caresses of his fingers on her hip, Y/N felt her heart speed up, and she decided it was time to take a step forward.

"Chris..." She began, her voice soft and somewhat hesitant.

Chris's eyes met hers, a mixture of curiosity and concern reflected in her gaze.

"What is it, babe? You look serious." The boy frowned, sitting up slightly and keeping his upper body supported on the bed by his left elbow.

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering all the courage she had within herself.

"I... I think I'm ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?" Chris asked, confused.

"Ready to no longer hide our relationship." Y/N declared, her voice firm and determined. She turned her body sideways, still lying down, but now facing him.

Chris was momentarily stunned, processing her words. Then, a radiant smile spread across his face, his eyes shining beautifully.

"You mean... You mean you're ready to make our relationship public?" His voice came out high-pitched, a sign of euphoria.

"Yes, Chris. I'm ready. I want this, I want to be able to say I'm yours. No restrictions." Y/N nodded, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

"But, are you sure? I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with." The brunette pressed his lips into a thin line, his heart racing in anticipation.

"I've never been so sure before, pretty boy." Y/N nodded again, a smirk decorating her face, feeling light as a feather.

Chris sat straight on the mattress abruptly, pulling her up with ease, ignoring the small scream of surprise that escaped her lips. He sat her on his crossed legs, spreading several kisses over her cheeks, nose, and forehead repeatedly, eliciting loud laughter from the girl, her heart overflowing with happiness.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The sun was setting over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink as the triplets were in their usual seats in the car, recording the video that would be posted on the following Friday.

"Her beauty is crazy, I watch her from the crowd." Chris sang suddenly, a small smile on his lips, looking at Matt sideways.

"I wrote a couple of things down that were in my brain..." Nick began, ignoring Chris's sudden singing. "I love citrus. Anytime I can get my hands on a citrusy fruit, I want it. The juice, the flavor... it's delicious." He continued, a smile on his face as his eyes went from Chris to Matt and back again.

Nick's random remark caused Chris to jump excitedly in the passenger seat. His eyes lit up, and a smile grew on his face.

"Citrus drinks?" He asked, turning his upper body to the side so that he was closer to the oldest triplet.

"Yeah, I love it! Orange juice, lemonade, anything with a hint of citrus." Nick responded, pulling out his phone to look at his notes for the video, not noticing the change in Chris' behavior.

Chris felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest as his mind raced to a single person: Y/N. She also loved citrus drinks. It was one of her most striking characteristics.

"This is awesome!" Chris exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement. "Y/N also loves citrus drinks, you know? She's obsessed with orange juice and lemonade! Also, I always get her lemonade when she participates in one of our videos, remember?"

As he ramble, Chris felt his face heat up, a red color spreading across his cheeks and neck. It was difficult to control the shyness when talking about Y/N, even if it was just mentioning her preference for drinks.

Matt and Nick exchanged amused glances in the rearview mirror, immediately noticing Chris's change in mood.

"Wow, she really likes citrus, huh?" Matt commented, with a playful tone, raising his right eyebrow.

"Uhm." Chris nodded, his involuntary smile growing even wider on his face, quickly pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to stop himself from continuing his barrage of comments he could spend hours making about Y/N.

Nick planned to delete the short minutes while editing, but he ended up forgetting it, creating an intense mess in the comments.

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Comments:

"wait, did yall see how Chris blushed while talking about Y/N? 🥺"

"omg Chris talking about Y/N was the cutest thing I saw today 😭"

"Chris and Y/N? how long did I sleep?"

"omg omg omg are they together?"

"date someone who talks about you like Chris talks about Y/N 😫"

"Chris getting super excited JUST TO SAY THAT Y/N LIKES CITRUS DRINKS 😭😭"

"I really hope Chris and Y/N are together, they would be super cute together 🥺"

"there's something going on that we don't know about 🤨🤨"

"spill the tea guys 😔✋🏻"

"I think this part wasn't supposed to stay in the video LMAO"

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liked by sturniolo.triplets, yninstagram and 408,823 others

christophersturniolo oops, forgot to mention it 😬🤍

the comments on this post have been disabled

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My requests are open! Please read my rules before sending anything ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

[lost-on-an-ocean-of-books]

Calling all fanfiction Readers it's time to have your say.

Hi Fanfiction Readers

My name is Tamsin and I am a PhD student, fellow lurker and fanfiction reader. I am conducting a study into the role that fanfiction plays in the lives of those fans who read fanfiction as part of their everyday lives. Does your search history include the tags related to found family, irondad or batbad for example, then I am interested in talking to you. If you would like to take part in discussions around these tags with a fellow reader and lurkers of these tags within A03 please message me. 

Taking part in this research is a chance for you to share your own experience of fanfiction and what it means to you, while also highlighting that lurkers do still have a voice and an important part to play within fandom research. 

Below the cut is more information about this study and what it involves. Please read this if you would like more information before getting in touch. If you are unable to take part please can you reblog this post or share it to anyone you feel might wish to take part. 

Why have I been chosen?

I have deliberately chosen lurkers within fanfiction communities as the messages they take from and their reasons for reading fanfiction are under researched. Although you may not be a lurker in all fandoms you are involved in, the fact that you are a lurker within any fanfiction spaces make you the ideal candidate from this exploration into lurkers and their relationships with fanfiction, fanfictions online spaces and fandom communities. 

I would also like to emphasise that I require all participants to be over the age of 18 to take part in this study. If you are under 18 please let me know now. 

What does taking part mean?

By agreeing to take part in this study you are agreeing to record a diary of your fanfiction use and reasons for this usage within a discord chat. There is no limit for entries and I ask that the minimum response is once every two weeks. However, this project is aiming to work around your life and commitments and if you do miss a couple of weeks do not panic. Just start sending entries or replying to prompts again when you are able to. If I have not heard from you in a month I will send a message which will read:

Hi. I hope you are doing well. I am just sending a message to check in and to double check if you wish to continue taking part in the study. If you are happy to still take part please send any form of response to this message. 

It is important to note that this response can be as limited as simply sending an emoji. If I do not receive a response after two weeks I will stop attempting to contact you. However this is not seen as a full withdrawal from the study and you are able to return at any time. I will also still use the discussions we have already had as part of my thesis. If you would like to withdraw fully from the study please let me or my supervisors know, with the process of how to do this explained below. 

These entries can take the form of voice notes, written responses and memes or tiktoks. Every two weeks I shall send a prompt to the chat that hosts the diary entries, these are intended to get you thinking about certain topics and do not have to be answered directly or even at all if the questions make you uncomfortable or touch on something you are unwilling to share. At the end of every month I will arrange a touch base interview (over google meet) which will last about an hour. This will be a chance to discuss anything that you find easier to discuss face to face, to review some of your diary entries and for me to answer any question you may have. While I will aim to have these interviews a month apart I do understand that life may get in the way. I am more than happy to be flexible and move interviews around or push them back/bring them forward depending on your schedules. 

[battydora]

"DISOBEY"

masterlist | rules

CHARACTERS: hantengu clones, demon reader

CONTENT: nsfw, dubcon, noncon, minors dni!!, gn reader (afab), reader is upper 1, reader forces the clones apart and makes them sumbit to their pleasure, power dynamics, strong dominant/submissive dynamics, power abuse, threats, sexual frustration, graphic descriptions of blood and mutilation, fivesome, angry sex, stress relief sex, cunnilingus, breast play, bruises, hate sex, small plot, slight vouyerism, restrictions, teasing, praise/praise kink (a tiny bit), reader's a demon whose emotions are intense and usually overwhelming (specially anger), so any intense and/or positive emotions can counter the effects negative emotions have on them, sexual stimulation being the example today, reader is referred as "they", "ma'am", "mistress" & "my/our lady", barely proof read

A/N: hey demon slayer fandom how we feelin bout s3......... you know the drill, these fuckers are hot and i'm here to please the disgusting person i am. MINORS DNI!! I'M SERIOUS, I WILL BLOCK YOU.

DISCLAIMER: this is a dubcon/noncon fanfiction (the first one I ever made), please take in consideration I'm against non-consensual practices and I DO NOT promote them by any matters, I'm choosing this gender merely for the fact that hantengu such as the reader are demons and as we know so far, demons' interactions with eachother are ruthful and cruel, senseless in average human intercourse since they feel and act differently the way humans do, I could've done this any other way but I chose to stick to kimetsu no yaiba's logic. self-contradictory but just stick around with reader being upper one and gyutaro still being the sixth, i was lazy to make it sense.

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

it certainly was shocking news for the upper moons to find out the sixth was slayed by the demon slayer corps. otherwise there wouldn't be any other logical reason for the demon king to summon all of the, remaining, upper moons, in the infinity castle. including yourself, upper one.

akaza was asking about you but he didn't know you were already there, listening to all the rambling he and the rest of the upper moons were having seconds ago. however, you voice didn't make an appearance until the biwa lady made clear you were present from the very first second, akaza's eyes widening with awe and concern. gyokko remained in place silent and hantengu whimpering terrified at your mere presence, like he usually did. kokushibo looked up, you were in a building nearby, your demonic figure sitting upside down on the ceiling, your hands sitting modishly on top of eachother, waiting patienly for your king.

"i arrived way before any of you did."

"oh (y/n)-sama, you've been here all the time... aren't you pleased to find yourself meeting with me after so many years? ah, you're stunning today, i bet you've becoming much stronger these past decades." douma's carefree voice reached everyone's ears, touching a nerve inside akaza, his bad mood being worsened by the women eater demon.

"douma" your mysterious and harassing voice called upper 3's name, sending a raw shiver down the latter's back, gyokko and hantengu trembled at your mere voice, which sounded horrifying "give up your brattish behaviour" your shiny and dangerous eyes glare at him across the castle, threatening "know your place." another quivering and breathtaking shiver hitting his senses cruely.

you weren't entirely in the mood to deal with these bastards, you always found yourself hating each one of your demon associates, an inmense desire of finishing each and every one of them was what kept your mind daydreaming about, the mere idea was something that made your body tremble with excitement and unwanted sexual arousal but it was always an impediment to know that you had muzan kibutsuji's evil eyes fixed on your back and that he could make you dissapear within a blink if you did anything against his experiments. so you remained in line, interacting with them whenever you had to.

the meeting was as shitty as you were expecting, muzan scolded every single one of you and left you more angered than you would've wanted, this anger that kept building inside of you made your body tense, your eyebrows were frowning as your body temperature continued to raise in anger. once muzan leaves, you look around the room, your eyes landing on hantengu, the poor demon was trembling in a corner, he felt your harassing gaze towards him and looked at you, who was suddenly standing infront of him. your black hand reached his clothes and he cried out the moment you picked him up. "you're coming with me, you have a task to complete before fulfilling the king's desires."

and out of the blue, your figures dissapeared from the castle. you had taken the small demon to the forest, no one around, only a river running a few meters from you. hantengu was crying and mumbling nonsense, fearing at the look in your face that was... certainly frightening, your eyebrows frowning, your eyes wide open, your teeth clenching in pure fury and drops of saliva falling off your lips. your hands held his body and your sharp nails digged into the head and body of the old looking demon, blood spreading on your fingers as you pulled both ends to behead upper 5, tearing his skin apart and violently ripping his head off. he grunted and yelled in pain, his body splitting apart entirely to your inhumane strength as a pool of blood spread on the ground beneath you. you let his head and body fall to the floor as you watched each part regenerate into two separate demons: sekido and karaku. you walk to sekido who was staring at you entirely upset at your behaviour, you gripped his clothes and pulled him towards you returning the same angered expression.

"how are you allowed to do this, upper one?" you raised both of your brows to his words, furious at his statement.

"you are not in position to scold me, do not." you stated before gripping his hair and fiercely rip off his head, letting his other clones show up: aizetsu and urogi.

"how come i never seen our upper one this upset? this is kind of exciting" karaku spoke this time, standing up from the ground and walking towards you "have anything special in store for us tonight, mistress?~" his voice was charming and intrigued, a wide grin taking over his face as he licked his upper lip, showing the black kanji tattooed on his tongue.

"it saddens me to be the ones to deal with (y/n)-sama's anger... hantengu ran away to hide in the woods already..." aizetsu joins the conversation, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

"how can you be sad about this? sekido is being scolded by our lady" urogi chuckled out a laugh but their focus returned to you once again, you seemed upset.

"everything just makes me so angry... the demon slayers, douma, akaza, all of the upper moons... our demon lord... you all just find a way to GET ON MY FUCKING NERVES!" you began to rant, your body itching at the intense frustration and fury growing inside of you each second, you fell to your knees consumed by rage, teeth clenching hard enough to seem like they were about to shatter "please me, hantengu, make your stupid blood demon art useful and cease these intense emotions inside me" further on, you started undressing, your hands helping you body to get rid of the kimono that was denying your skin the ecstasy of being naked. all the clones looked closely, frozen in their places.

once all your clothes were scattered on the floor, you lifted your gaze to meet theirs, you were infuriated, they could tell. so the first one to react to your angered gaze was aizetsu, as a natural reaction towards threat and probably for being used to sekido's mistreatment towards him, whose anger paired yours in that moment. the sorrow demon let his spear fall to the ground and walked carefully towards you, afraid of disobedience. he knelt infront of your exposed figure and kissed your lips, cupping your cheeks while doing so. the kiss was well welcomed, you kissed the blue demon fervishly and hungrily.

then karaku followed, sitting beside you and hugging your torso, pulling you closer to kiss your neck with intensity. you opened your eyes in middle of the kissing and stared at sekido and urogi, who were standing there, urogi looking at the other two clones get their way with your body, a senseless excitement hitting his body at the view, making his wings quiver. and as for sekido, he was clenching his fists, his jaw almost hurting out of fury, how dared you use his clones to please yourself? were they some kind of toy to you?

you frowned at them, your left hand made its way to aizetsu's crotch, squeezing his clothed cock which lead him to break the kiss to let out a soft whimper, breathing heavily and closing his eyes. your right hand did the same to karaku's, making him grunt into your neck.

"m-my lady..." "oh, that's...oh~" their voices cried out holding onto your body as you massaged the areas for a little while. aizetsu mumbled nonsense into your left ear, pressing his body against your own seeking closeness and karaku making sure to do the same on your right side moaning softly, licking and biting your earlobe, both of them entirely poisoned by your touch.

"why are you just standing there? i gave you an order" you demanded once again, it infuriated you to see sekido so so upset with you, your body filled with rage and excitement hoping your provocations were enough for them to fucking move. urogi gulped, hesitant, before walking towards the three of you, placing himself behind you, arms wrapping your torso and animal-like hands cupping both of your breasts, squeezing and massaging lively, stealing a grunt from you instantly.

sekido's mouth was half open, astonished at the view of you having complete control of each one of them. the grip on his weapon tightened, unsure of what to do now, he wished he could fight you but he knew quite well you would destroy him within a second, he just wishes to... agh! he just wished you would just vanish, you arrogant piece of-!

"sekido" his raging thoughts about you were cut off when you called his name, your tone of voice switched instantly, it was deep and threatening, you could just let him stand there and take a great look at what you were doing to his counterparts but you wished to have him doing something so much better, you wanted him, you wanted him to pleasure you, to watch his face clench into annoyance and anger because of you. your hands made their way to aizetsu's hips and moved him aside, letting him sit beside you so you could open your legs widely, karaku and aizetsu couldn't help but stare down at your soaked cunt, its scent captivated the three demons around you and karaku's such as aizetsu's hand tried to reach it to please you in their own ways but your own stopped them, with a serious expression and your eyes never meeting theirs, the latter only fixated on sekido.

"no, let sekido take care of that, maybe it'll hit some sense into him before he ever thinks of disobeying me again."

the three of them looked at him and was aizetsu the one to speak, for someone who was often saddened everytime sekido spoke and scolded him, this was impressive and sort of satisfying "sekido please... you know what they can do..."

clearly upset, your statement made the anger demon throw his weapon to his side with rage a few seconds later.

he walked to you, aizetsu and karaku doing you the favor of holding your legs wide open for you, the red eyed knelt infront of your body, taking a good look at your wet cunt, pausing for a moment as he contemplated you. he looked up again, his eyes meeting yours, unsure of what to do next.

"put that blabbering mouth of yours to good use" you commanded, your bright eyes staring directly into his before he got his body to fully lay on the ground, face inches away from your slit, he purposefully digged his nails into the skin of your thighs, tiny drops of blood painting his fingers.

"yes, ma'am" every drop of anger was poured into that "ma'am" of his as he broke the distance between his lips and yours, his tattooed tongue licked from the bottom to the top in a slow motion, sending a shiver through your abdomen, you moaned out loud and grinned the second his tongue landed on your clit.

you felt urogi's cock twitch against your back, you threw your head back to land on his shoulder, looking at his yellow eyes with a serious gaze. "are you hard already, urogi?" at your words, the joy demon gulped and nodded "yes, my lady..." his voice is sweet and a bit shy, you smirked at his response and tilted your head.

"should your upper one do something to fix that?" the seduction on your voice did not help urogi to keep his composure at all "please... please do" his pleading voice was music to your ears, it almost made you feel sorry for him, you only chuckle before giving a response.

"i'll treat you if you continue touching me. does that sound fair?~" excitement quickly filled his orange eyes "yes, my lady" as his hands continued to massage your chest and his mouth reached the back of your neck, biting and sucking passionately. karaku and aizetsu exchanged glares interested in your words, would they get a treat too if they please you? they couldn't take chances so they continued to kiss and squeeze your body, arousal growing bigger inside them each second more.

it was karaku who, holding your right leg open, started grinding against you, slight pants leaving his mouth as he was trying to satisfy himself somehow, the whole situation got him excited and needy for some touch, he almost couldn't hold himself back. you noticed his motion right ahead and stopped him. "you're not allowed to do that, karaku" his eyes widened and he gulped "but mistress..." he pleads but takes his words back the second you glare at him, intimidating "how... how can i earn my release, mistress?"

you chuckle at his question, an evil grin showing up.

"huh? earn it? that's the deal, karaku, you don't- hah~" a broken moan escapes your lips, sekido's tongue made sure to hit your sweet spot just in time "oh sekido, you're hitting it just right~ keep going~" you praise, the anger demon didn't want to admit that you calling his name like that actually made his stomach flutter. how could he find this exciting? how do your praises make him so eager to fulfill your request? his anger was being condescending.

karaku frowns, a grimace expressing his need to do something about the tent of his pants, but how can he disobey you? he wanted to be selfish, but urogi and sekido being praised and paid for what they're doing, made him feel jealous, he has been good from the beggining, didn't he deserve a prize too? an urge to compete against his counterparts rushed through his body, maybe like that he could get your attention. but he couldn't do much from there, urogi was working on your chest and sekido had the best part... it all feels unfair for him, he had to try another ways, so he leaned in and kissed you passionately, hoping your attention was drawn at him. the kiss caught you offguard but you decide to play along with his idea, you smiled inbetween the kiss, noticing what he was doing.

aizetsu in the other hand, was kissing your neck and leaving gentle marks along it, listening to what you were saying to karaku. however, when the green eyed kissed you, aizetsu felt left a little behind, he felt your touch fading away each second karaku spent kissing you, he didn't want that, it saddened him to not being touched and payed attention at by you, he needed you too. he took karaku's actions as a provocation, a threat to his territory and being so he couldn't allow karaku getting away with you so he came up to your face and held your chin lovingly, making you pull away from the kiss to make you kiss him, you give in smiling, sensing both of their jelousies compiting over you.

karaku was offended and tried to draw your attention back at him, insisting in kissing you again. you look at him from the corner of your eye, kissing aizetsu passionately at the same time. you were teasing him, watching his face twitch in jealousy for seeing you kiss his counterpart so vively, so intensely, as if you really were enjoying aizetsu more than you enjoyed karaku. his hand instinctively pressed his aching cock when he saw you biting aizetsu's lower lip, sharp teeth pulling his skin with desire, making him moan softly, never breaking eye contact with karaku. he was having enough, he was about to beg for you but chose being rough, he leans to your mouth even when you and aizetsu were kissing and tried to kiss you. aizetsu didn't give in and keeps fighting for his place, turning the kissing into a kiss of three. saliva being exchanged between your mouths. you laughed between the kiss at their little competition, this is so exciting!

your senses were through the roof, pleasure continuing to build up inside of you, a wave of sensations hitting you body as the clones did their job, sekido being more skilled in his area than you originally expected, his mouth working you to your climax, tongue licking and lips sucking in the right places, making a mess beneath him. your legs broke free from karaku and aizetsu's grip, suddenly sandwiching sekido's head almost making him lose focus as he made you cum. a loud moan drowned in your kiss with the other two as sekido licked your clit to help you go through your last bits of orgasm.

you pulled away from the wet kiss and rested your head on urogi's chest, sighing in relief for finally getting the release you needed all night, you held onto karaku and aizetsu's shoulders as you breathed in and out, chasing breath regulation; the winged demon massaged your belly and waist until you recovered your breath completely, he smiled with satisfaction at the view of you exhausted for all the job they've been doing for the past moments just to please you, it made his stomach flutter with excitement. your body continued to release an inhumane amount of hormones, all the fury contained in your body earlier had completely vanished at the mere touch of upper 5, you were contented and pleased, yet... you weren't satisfied, if someone offered you another round or more, you would accept without hesitation. you suddenly felt sekido crawling onto you, you contemplated him, his angered expression continuing to grow as his mouth drooled spit mixed with your fluids, his kimono subtly falling off his shoulder exposing his skin, you couldn't lie, that was kinda hot, you grinned at him.

"had enough sekido?" you teased playfully, chuckling at him.

"not quite" he growled and positioned himself between your legs, approaching you as he undressed his torso "how fucking dare you? are we just some toys to you? you're disgusting, upper one, leaving me and my counterparts stupidly aroused, you don't deserve being done for the night"

"hah? who said i was done for the night? it's funny that you mention it, actually, i could just get up and leave you and your pathetic clones here and let you starve without my touch, i would love to see how you would handle from there. you're all hard as a rock and i don't need to see it to prove it, you weak creatures, whining and begging for my attention, it would be so fun if i just left!" your voice gained a mocking manner, a cocky attitude hitting in as you allowed sekido between your legs, a short laughter escapes your lips "but... how could i... you were all such good boys, my heart squeezes with pity, i come to the conclusion you deserve at least a prize. so, sekido, if you want yours, form in line, i'm not done with all of you just yet."

thanks for reading!

[nouearth]

servicing justice: superman [1]

pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!

it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.

“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.

for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.

or maybe you’re just naïve.

all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.

you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.

“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.

your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.

“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”

“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.

“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”

it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.

the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.

“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.

“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.

before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.

“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.

“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.

“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”

“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.

he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.

it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.

remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.

“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.

in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.

“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.

“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.

“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[rebelliousstories]

You’re A Disappointment

Relationship: David x Reader

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Word Count: 3,393

Masterlist: Here

The Lost Boys Masterlist: Here

Summary: After a meeting with Max, David returns to the cave; he’s angrier than a bat out of hell.

A slower night gripped the boardwalk of Santa Carla. Unusual for this time of year, but not even the murder capital of the world could continue full throttle all the time. Resting against the railing, a young woman allowed her eyes to scan over the crowd. Her lover rested next to her, smoke billowing from his plush lips. His brothers were nearby causing havoc, but that did not matter as much to him. The girl next to him was gently linking her pinky with the hand that was down near his side. Just having her nearby, within holding range was enough to quiet the voices in his head for a little bit. He did not need to keep the carefully crafted image he spent so long making up with her nearby. However, the older man walking out of the back of his video store, and locking his eyes with the young man made the walls go back up. The man took another slow drag of his cigarette, waiting to see what the man wanted.

“Ha ha! You should’ve seen the look on his face, David! We totally made him need to change his pants.” A loud voice yelled as several figures bounced up to the couple that was leaning against the railing. But David did not turn his head towards his pack mate that had come near. No, his eyes stayed trained on the older man at the video store.

“David, I’m telling you… David?” The other blonde vampire had quieted down as he watched the leader. The entire pack watched with curiosity as David kept smoking, seemingly having a conversation with the older man at the video store. David’s lover and pack turned to see what he was looking at so intensely, and took a step closer together when they noticed. Dwayne immediately stood to David’s left, while Paul and Marko shielded the girl to David’s right. The bleach blonde took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out beneath the toe of his boot. Watching the older man walk back into the video store, David spoke but did not look to the group around him.

“Dwayne, take the kitten back to the cave along with the boys. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” David went to go walk off but felt a hand grab his. He turned and was met with the concerned gaze of his lover. Leaning over, his unoccupied hand cradled her face while his lips pressed against her forehead. David turned quickly and did not spare another glance towards his pack, getting on his bike and riding off as fast as he could. The lady stood next to Dwayne who gently grabbed her hands to guide her towards his own bike. A concerned look refused to leave her face as the group got closer to the three remaining bikes.

“He’ll be fine, princess. David always is.” Dwayne reassured her quietly as she nodded. She kept repeating that in her head as much as she could, to try and convince herself that her lover would be fine.

“Yeah chicka. David’s always fine. And if he’s not, we just give him you and he calms right on down!” Paul got out in between laughs. Marko joined him in agreeing chuckles while Dwayne just shook his head. Making sure David’s girl was secured on the back of his bike and felt safe, Dwayne led the other two boys through Santa Carla. They whooped and cheered, screaming at the top of their lungs as the wind wiped across their face and through their hair. Getting all the way back to the cave, Dwayne gently navigated the young woman through the rough terrain of the the underground hotel. Letting the terror twins run amuck ahead, Dwayne made sure to treat her with a delicacy, knowing that if there was even a little scratch on her, David would not be happy. He already would not be happy coming home tonight; there was no reason to add fuel to that fire.

Marko ran immediately to check on his birds, while Paul lit up a joint from his coat pocket and made his way around the cave. Dwayne ran into his little alcove and grabbed his current book, eager to read, but watched the movement in front of him. The lady in the cave made her way and sat in David’s chair. There was a specific air around her, a mood that she had been in since leaving the boardwalk.

“Bela? You good?” Marko came around and placed his hand on her shoulder. She nodded, but there was no happiness behind her smile. Before Marko could continue, Paul slammed into him from behind which sent both vampires tumbling to the ground. She watched the boys tumble, swipe, curse, and rough house with each other. It sent out a small giggle from her lips watching them, but her mind switched to David. Whoever that man was at the video store made the pack tense and shield her, which did not make her feel good about her boyfriend being alone with the man.

Sunrise neared and there was still no sign of David. Dwayne had long since made sure that Laddie was safely tucked into his nest, and Star was in hers. Neither were seen much that night as Laddie was not feeling well leaving Star to stay with him and take care of the young halfling. The terror twins of the vampire pack had calmed down and stalked off to their sleeping perch in the cave. They did make sure to stop by the girl who had yet to move from her boyfriend’s chair all night, and give her some reassurance the best they could. Dwayne was the last to retire, trying desperately to wait up for David with her but the impending sunrise made him grow increasingly sleepy. But he went by the girl who was still up and tried to get through to her.

“He’ll be home soon, princess. You don’t have to stay up.” Dwayne spoke quietly, placing his hand on her shoulder. She blinked once, twice, three times before turning and giving him a soft smile.

“Thanks Dwayne. But I’m not going to be able to sleep anyways.” She said softly and squeezed his hand in comfort. The vampire stayed there with the young lady for another minute before giving her one last comforting squeeze, and walking further into the cave to prepare for sleep. Checking her watch, she started to worry as there was only about an hour of darkness left for her lover to make it home safely and he was still nowhere. She grabbed one of the books from Dwayne’s alcove, and settled back into her lover’s chair. Passing the time was difficult as she kept checking her watch every five minutes to make sure that David was not about to become a pile of ash. Thirty minutes from sunrise, and the barest hint of a changing sky, she heard it. The rumble of a bike pulling up above where the entrance to the cave was made her heart sore. Tossing the book back where she was sure Dwayne would collect it, she ran all the way to the fountain and waited.

Hearing a fierce screech, she watched as David flew into the cave. He landed but paid no attention to the girl that was clearly waiting on him. He threw a brick that was at his feet at the cave walls before moving onto a different target. His chair was thrown without care, and several cans that had been littered about were instead flung into the air in a furious flurry. David tore tapestries and fabric from their post, but did not dare tear down Star’s nest, having enough wherewithal to not destroy that. But he did not show the same care for the rest of the cave. Watching from the fountain, his girlfriend stayed quiet and let him vent out his frustrations. It would not be a good idea to get in the middle of the storm now, and figured he would either tire himself out and sleep the rest off, or get everything out of his system and then would turn to her. But as she watched him destroy any and everything, she knew it would be a while before it was out of his system entirely. David was uncharacteristically fired up and awake for this time of day, as the sun had finally broken the surface of the horizon.

The boys could no longer leave the cave but the new light had shown something that she had missed before. There was blood all over her boyfriend. All over his chin, chest, his hands, and in his beautiful formally bleach blonde hair. Her watch chimed on the hour and she watched her boyfriend slow down and breathe deeply in the shadow of the cave. Bright morning light had infiltrated just the very top of the cave, which meant the entire main area was still shrouded in shade but that did not stop David from finding the darkest corner and cowering in it like a wounded, wild animal.

“David?” She called, ever so softly over to her boyfriend. His chest heaved up and down as he took in deep breaths from the physical exertion.

“David? Hey, are you alright big guy?” She cautiously approached the man. As far as she could tell he made no indication that he was even aware of her presence. Her footsteps grew closer and closer, but David still did not acknowledge her. She got within arms reach of her lover, and slowly crouched down to be eye level with him. But this caused David to shift further back into his hiding hole. Reaching her arm out to place on him, caused David to violently shift away and hit his head against the cave wall.

“David? Honey, you’re scaring me. Are you alright?” His eyes closed as he tried to calm his breathing down.

“You should be asleep, kitten.” David rasped out. In his voice, anyone could see it was clearly used for even more talking and shouting than had been in the cave. It startled his girlfriend a little bit. She was not expecting to hear his voice like this. It sounded so… defeated. It sounded so unlike David. David was never one to show weakness to anyone. He was their fearless leader that protected them, and guided them.

“I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you were okay.” She whispered. His eyes opened slowly and looked at the girl in front of him. Her concern washed over her face and it made David feel bad.

“I’m always okay. You need to go to sleep. Go to your nest.” But neither made a move away from their current spots. That is, until, David’s lover got up and walked away without a word. He slumped against the cool cave wall feeling the exhaustion starting to hit him. Physical and mental exhaustion combined with the fact that the sun just made him want to sleep, it was all starting to be too much for David to handle. His eyes shut yet again, but they quickly reopened when he felt something cool and wet delicately touching his face.

His lover had returned with a damp rag, and had begun to clean up the blood that David had not bothered to clean off before. They sat in silence as she swiped the rag over his face, neck, and chest. The rag became stained with red, but David was steadily becoming cleaner with every pass. She finished up on his skin, before moving on to a clean part of the rag to gently wipe his hair as best as she could. But David raised his hand up and caught her wrist gently to pull it away.

“Wanna tell me why you’re like this? I’ve never seen you like this David.” She gently rested her hands on David’s legs and watched his face intently. The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out. He looked like he was trying to find a reply that would keep his problems away from his lover while reassuring her that he had everything under control. But he did not have everything under control, and he could not find anything to hide his feelings. He was far too exhausted to come up with a clever response.

“I had a meeting with Max.” He stated bluntly.

“Who’s that?” She asked with a curious expression.

“Right,” David sighed, “forgot you don’t know about him. Max is our sire. The vampire who made all of us vampires.” He explained slowly and quietly. His girlfriend stayed quiet and let him continue.

“He said something tonight that really got to me. I didn’t mean for it to but it did.” David wet his lips and looks down at his hands, still having a soft grip over one of her wrists but not doing anything more than resting on her.

“What, David?” But the man did not say anything. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, trying to get the words to come out. But they refused. He could not repeat what his sire had told him. Letting go of her wrist, his hand came up to cup his lover’s cheek. And that is when it flashed in her head. David was letting his memory flash through her mind’s eye.

She saw the same man from the video store in front of her, and felt herself inhaling a cigarette. But it was not her smoking or standing in front of the video store man; it was David. She watched as the man, Max, was rambling on and on in front of her.

“Honestly, David, all I ask is a little order. A little discipline. Is that too much for you to handle?” Max criticized the vampire in front of him, but David refused to back down.

“I said I would handle it, Max. If it’s rushed, it will backfire.” His voice stayed steady. David hated being treated like he did not know what to do or what was going on by anyone, including Max.

“If you keep that human around much longer without starting the process, it will not end well for anyone.” Max took his glasses off and cleaned them with a cruel smile on his face. In a flash, David was breathing the same air as his sire, staring him dead in the eyes.

“Are you threatening us?” David said sternly. Max brought his glasses up to rest gently on his face.

“And what if I am? That girl is not part of the family. You have no claim over her. As far as I am concerned, she’s an outsider. She is fair game, so to speak.” The elder vampire backed up, and threw his hands up in the air. Moving to his desk, Thorn sat at the side, kept it its eyes on David as he came closer to the vampire.

“I have staked my claim and she is under my protection. I have given her the choice to take it slow for her own sake so she doesn’t do what Star did and hold onto her humanity indefinitely. If you so much as lay a finger on her-“

“You’ll what David? Fight me? I am your father, boy. If I had known you would have caused me this much trouble over a couple girls, I would have left you in that alley all those years ago. I didn’t expect you to be such a disappointment.” Max’s words made David stop where he was. Still a few feet from the desk, but now feeling cold. So very chilly.

“What did you say?” He murmured knowing that Max would still be able to hear him.

“You’re a disappointment, David. I ask you for so little. I ask that you follow a few rules, gather a few new family members for yourself and the boys, and yet you can’t do that. The most basic aspect of our species that ensures our survival.” Max had stated all of this with the same blasé that someone would have talking about the weather. Both vampires watched each other intensely; neither making the first move. But when Max went to open his mouth again, David was quick to shut it.

“Listen here,” David slammed his hands down onto the desk of his sire, “I have followed your stupid rules, and done your bidding whenever asked. And it still wasn’t good enough. I gained the others, not you. Your blood may have turned them but I pulled them in. I made them what they are now. Star was rushed to turn and now look at where that’s gotten us? I now have a half in my cave that despises me for the gift that I gave her on your orders because you wanted a girl. But listen here, if you so much as think about turning my lover without my knowledge or hers, I’ll stake you myself.” David left before his sire had a chance to respond. He straddled his bike, and burned rubber turning away from his sire’s home. David knew that sunrise was approaching, but it did not stop him from following the sounds of a nearby beach party.

She was slowly pulled from the memory before she could see anything else, but the blood on him filled in the gaps. Her heart hurt to think that David had to go through that on his own. The comment had clearly struck a nerve with her vampire lover, and he was trying to deal with it the only way he knew how. She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to his forehead. Another on his temple, then his cheek. She repeated the actions on the other side and continued down. David simply allowed her to continue, not encouraging but not discouraging her either.

“You’re not a disappointment, David. You do so much for the pack to ever think that way. Don’t every believe him when he says that, my love.” She spoke so softly that it caused David to close his eyes and rest his head against her own.

“I’ll spend the rest of eternity telling you what an amazing man you are, as long as you believe me. And I appreciate you waiting on me, even if you’re dying to have me join you.” Her hand came to rest on the other side of his face that was not tucked against her own. And there they sat, simply existing in each other’s presence. David could not put into words what it meant to him to have her there with him after the night that he had. His body had finally let out its last bit of exhaustion and nothing seemed more amazing than sleep at that moment.

David pulled away and pressed a single, loving kiss to his partner’s lips, and stood up. She followed him up shortly, and rested her hands gently on his chest. With one arm around her back, David bent down and picked his lover up. Carrying her deeper into the cave, her nest had awaited them with his boys nearby. Her nest was specifically located in the nearest alcove to their perch so she was nearby in case David needed to check on her. But it also made it easy to check on the boys if he decided to sleep next to her instead. Ducking underneath the curtains, the inviting bed was just sitting there begging for the couple to lay down. They toed off their shoes, and David removed his jackets. As the couple laid down, David opened his arms for his lover to slot herself into. The daylight pulled David under the veil of sleep quickly and soon enough he was sleeping peacefully.

His lover stayed up for just a little bit longer to watch him sleep. She would feel bad about it, had she not caught her vampiric lover doing the same to her many times over. But it made her happy to see him finally get some sleep after the exhausting night that he had. And she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that David realized that he was not in any way, shape, or form, a disappointment.

[happy74827]

A New Moon

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite his gut telling him he shouldn’t, Dexter can’t help but fall deeper into the trap of his own emotions. And the more time he spends with you, the more he starts to realize what exactly those emotions are. {GIF Creds: beautifulguycollector}

WC: 2889

Category: Slight Lime/Spice, Friends to Lovers + Forbidden Love (if you squint) Tropes

Gotta keep this fandom alive somehow 🥲 (also… why are titles so hard to write? That and the synopsis are harder to write than the actual fic)

『••✎••』

You were too good for him. Plain and simple. You were a smart, beautiful, hard-working woman who had goals and dreams. He was a cold-blooded killer. Not to say that he hadn't been there for you, though. The two of you had been friends since… well, a while. A long while.

He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he started to notice the changes in your relationship. It was a slow, subtle buildup, and the first time you called him your friend, Dexter thought nothing of it. The second time, it made him pause, but not enough for him to consider what the implications of you saying that to him could mean.

But when you said it again and again and again, he realized the meaning behind your words, the affection they held. Dexter couldn't say that he was particularly close to many people. There were a select few he'd consider his friends, but he wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. And he didn't think he was invested in you, either.

But maybe he was.

Debs was different, and it made him question how much he was supposed to care about someone. But that was his sister, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. That reason alone made his relationship with Deb unique. He was sure of that.

The same went with Brian—his brother, as it turned out. And Harrison, his son. Dexter felt things for those people, but they were different. Those were family, the people he was genetically tied to. Of course, he would care about them.

But you weren't family, and yet he still cared about you. It was a different kind of caring. And it was confusing. Harry was right, after all. He didn't feel. Dexter had convinced himself for years that he was a high-functioning sociopath, but lately…

Lately, he was beginning to question if that was true. Simple glances from you could bring an unwelcome smile to his lips. And when he heard the sound of your voice, he could feel his chest warm. It was a nice feeling, something he'd only experienced briefly with Rita. But then, that relationship was different too.

It was hard to put his finger on it, but being with you was just… easy. And it didn't feel like work. There was no pretending. Dexter didn't have to act when he was around you. He didn't need to try to be someone he wasn't. It was the real him.

It was terrifying.

Because now, as he sat on your couch, watching as you moved gracefully around your small apartment, the feeling was back, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He should have been home with Harrison, but the little boy was staying over at Debra’s tonight, so he didn't have any responsibilities. The passenger within him didn’t see it as a problem either, considering he’d just recently “disposed" his latest target.

It was nice, Dexter decided, to relax every once in a while. Work and family didn't give him a lot of opportunities to do so, and now that the two were temporarily taken care of, he felt he deserved to be lazy for a bit.

You didn’t have a TV in your living room, so the two of you settled for movies. Dexter didn’t really have a preference for them. He could watch a comedy, action, drama, or horror and not feel strongly for or against any of them.

Apparently, you didn't mind what he watched either because he could see the spark of excitement in your eyes when you pulled out the case for one of the worst comedy films Dexter had ever seen.

He'd seen it before. Not with you, one of the movies Vince shoved down his throat when he planned a night out with him, Angel, and Quinn.

It wasn't his favorite, not by a long shot, but the grin on your face and the way you eagerly skipped to the DVD player, set the disk inside, and closed the hatch made him bite his tongue.

Dexter had learned a long time ago that you were a very expressive person. And even though most of the time your feelings weren't displayed on your face, your eyes told another story. Such opposites to his own, Dexter often found himself fascinated by the light they held.

You had a passion for life that was rare, and it drew him in. It was a quality he lacked, and he could see it in everything you did. Whether it was talking about the newest book you read or making coffee, you put all of yourself into your actions.

It was something that Dexter had never understood. How could you have such a strong sense of self? Didn't it get tiring, having to live up to a standard of being so… so good?

But then again, you'd always been better than him. He might’ve been smarter in some regards, but what was intelligence if it didn't come from a place of morality? You were better, purer than him. He knew it, and everyone else did, too, even if they weren’t aware of how pure he wasn’t

That's why this was so wrong. This thing that had been going on for the past couple of months between the two of you. The subtle touches, the longing stares, the late-night calls. It was all wrong.

You were similar to Rita in some ways. You were kind and compassionate, always looking for the good in others. You had a knack for taking care of people, whether they needed it or not.

Dexter could tell that was your nature, and it was one of the things that initially attracted him to you. All the things he lacked, you had. But that didn't mean that you could replace Rita. He didn’t want you to.

And that was the difference. While he may have found qualities in you that resembled the ones he'd found in Rita, you were not her. Rita was gone, and it was his fault. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet she did. She deserved to grow old, to see Harrison grow up.

She deserved better.

The same went for you. You didn’t deserve a monster like him. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he should stay away. It was for the best of both of you.

And yet he was here. On your couch, watching a shitty movie and drinking the beer you'd offered him. Because, despite his efforts, he couldn't keep his distance from you.

He should've known. When it came to you, Dexter didn't have a choice.

His gaze drifted over to your form as you sat down beside him. You were smiling, your eyes bright and focused on the television. A lock of hair fell across your face, and you pushed it back, the sleeve of your hoodie falling down slightly.

Dexter had never been so tempted to reach out and touch someone in his life.

It was a feeling that had been creeping up on him the last few weeks, and now, sitting with you, watching a bad movie, it was at an all-time high. He'd never craved intimacy. But there was something about you, a pull that he couldn't deny.

It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Reminded him of that need with Lila. God, Lila. What a mess that had turned out to be. Another thing to add to his growing list of mistakes.

And yet, the longer he stared, the more he found himself leaning forward. He didn’t register what he was doing until his lips were a hair width away from yours.

You froze but didn't move away. The only indication that you were startled was the widening of your eyes. They bored into his, unflinching. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He was scared. Scared? Yes. That was what he was feeling. Why? He didn't know. Fear was new. It was a feeling reserved for Deb and sometimes his son, but even then, it was different.

But as Dexter gazed at you, so close and so beautiful, the fear melted away. It was replaced by a warmth that he was quickly becoming familiar with. It made his body thrum and his blood rush. It made him feel alive.

You were the first one to make a move. Well, not really a move, just the smallest shift forward, and then you were breathing the same air as him. You weren't kissing. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to make the final move.

It was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, the power dynamic. He was the dominant one, and you were the submissive. You had never fought against it. You were a people pleaser, and he knew that.

It was one of the reasons he knew this was wrong. Because he couldn't stop, and you would never ask him to. Even now, as he hesitated, you waited patiently. You trusted him.

Why did you have to trust him? Why couldn't you be more selfish, more like him?

But deep down, Dexter knew that it wasn't your nature. You couldn't change, not any more than he could.

So, after another agonizing second, he closed the distance between you.

It was gentle, the way his lips pressed against yours. A stark contrast to the usual forcefulness he applied when taking his victims. No, with you, he was careful. Almost timid.

Your lips were soft and smooth, and the kiss was sweet. Nothing more than a simple caress. Dexter didn’t expect the tingling sensation it would cause, but the slight brush of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.

The kiss was short and chaste, but it was enough to leave him feeling dizzy. The heat spread through him, from the tips of his toes all the way to his cheeks.

Dexter pulled back, and you stared at him. His breath hitched in his throat at the look in your eyes. There was something there, something that mirrored his own emotions.

Was it possible? Was he really capable of such intense emotion?

Maybe he was.

You didn’t move. It was like time had stopped, and the only sound that could be heard was his own uneven breathing. That, and the movie playing in the background, which was forgotten as soon as your lips touched.

The urge to reach out and grab you was there. He could feel the need deep in his bones, in his soul. But instead, Dexter sat, staring. Staring into the eyes of the woman who had somehow managed to break down all the walls he'd spent his life building.

You didn't speak. There was nothing to say. No words could describe the feelings that had surfaced between the two of you. So, instead, you smiled. A simple, beautiful smile that had him feeling weak.

He could have stayed there forever, just looking at you, taking in the beauty that was you. It was a new experience for him, and it was nice.

“Debra is going to be pissed," you finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be bullied into telling her every detail."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, his lips curled up in amusement. It was true. Eventually, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she already knew but was waiting for confirmation. Debra was good at figuring out things, even if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.

His sister was good at a lot of things, like being a detective. And, apparently, being an interfering matchmaking nuisance.

At least she wouldn’t call you the things she called Lila.

The thought made him chuckle, and you looked at him in confusion, but it would have to stay a mystery to you. For what was life without a few private jokes between siblings, right?

You didn’t press for answers, though. You did what you’ve always done and waited for him—waited for him as if it was his turn in Chess.

And he did the only thing he could think to do. He kissed you again. And again. And again. And again. Until he had you pinned beneath him, your arms around his neck, and your breath coming out in heavy gasps.

The kisses were still innocent, just as you were. But he could feel the passion behind them, the hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that. It had been a long, long time.

But the longer he kissed you, the more the heat grew, and soon, he was lost in the sensation. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged at the strands. His heart was racing, and the sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.

It was exhilarating.

Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the innocence was gone. Replaced by a desire that left him trembling. The feeling of your tongue against his, the taste of you on his lips, the smell of your shampoo mixed with your unique scent—it was all intoxicating.

The movie continued to play in the background, forgotten as you pulled him closer. The warmth in his chest intensified, and Dexter didn't fight it. Instead, he embraced it. He gave in to his emotions and let himself feel.

He didn’t go too far; he knew you weren't ready for that yet. The craving was there, and it was strong, but the moment wasn’t right. Instead, he satisfied himself by touching your skin, mapping out every inch of it, memorizing the way it felt under his fingertips.

And, when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he held onto you, refusing to let go. His eyes searched yours, searching for something. Anything. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.

He mostly saw fear, anger, and some regret when he had them pinned down beneath him. Of course, that was usually the case with his victims. Fear, anger, and regret were normal emotions—a reaction to being trapped by their own demise.

Having someone look up at him with emotions on the other side of the spectrum was different. Not a bad different, just... different.

Rita had been the first to look at him like that. Lumen did, too, once upon a time. And Lila, well, her emotions were never consistent.

But you? You looked up at him with an expression that was all too familiar and yet not quite the same. Your eyes were full of affection and desire, yes. But they were also filled with something else. Something he couldn't place.

Something he couldn’t understand.

"Dex,” your voice was so soft, a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it, and yet, he felt it. He felt the way his name rolled off your tongue, and it was like music to his ears.

"Yeah?" he whispered back. He didn’t know why he did that; it wasn't like the two of you were speaking in a library or something. Maybe it was the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the colors reflected off the white walls, casting an ethereal glow.

"I didn’t expect you to be… like this," you murmured. You ran a finger over his cheek, down to his jawline. He swallowed thickly. He could feel his pulse quicken.

"Like what?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Not bad," you replied. Your lips curved up, and his eyes were drawn to them. They were red and swollen from kissing, and it was such a contrast to the pale skin of your face.

"You think I'm not bad?" he said, raising his brows. "I'm flattered."

You shook your head. "You know what I mean," you said. "I just meant that you're different than how you come off. I didn’t think you'd be so... bold.”

He snorted.

Bold.

If you only knew.

"I guess I'm full of surprises," he said, smirking. You rolled your eyes and punched him lightly in the shoulder, only for him to catch it and press a kiss to the back of your hand. It was something he picked up from a movie once, and it seemed to be a pretty romantic gesture. And by the look on your face, it seemed to be appreciated.

You didn't say anything else. You didn't have to. There was nothing else to say. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company, content to just be together. The movie might've been a failure, but the night wasn’t.

And when Dexter finally left, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Not the type of relief he felt after a successful kill, but the type of relief one feels after a burden is lifted off their shoulders. The type of relief one gets when they are finally honest with themselves.

Rita was gone. Lumen was gone. And although his guilt and shame were still there, his self-loathing and fear were slowly starting to fade away. It wasn't gone, it was never going to be, but it was a start.

A fresh start.

A new beginning.

A new moon.

Yes, tonight was the night that changed everything. Tonight, Dexter Morgan learned that maybe he was more than the monster he thought he was.

[serpentarius]

been trying to wrap my head around the cancellation of "Our Flag Means Death" and why it hurts so fucking much. lots of folks who are much more eloquent than I have summed it up perfectly, but I still think it’s important I add my voice to the matter. 

It really, really sucks that the hurt is being compounded on us every time another queer/minority-led show gets prematurely cancelled. and for a long while, we also had to deal with the many shows that deliberately queerbaited us, which was a shitty and traumatic experience unto its own. And even though we’ve largely surpassed that early-‘00s-flavoured brand of queerbait now, mainstream queer media is still predominantly white-led. With the cancellation of OFMD, we've lost one of the very few intersectional queer shows in the mainstream. Shouldn’t we be beyond asking for crumbs at this point? Shouldn’t we get unabashedly intersectional shows helmed by and starring queer, BIPOC, and trans folks without them being axed for no rhyme or reason?

It’s exhausting at this point, honestly. OFMD has done so well in terms of viewership and engagement and fan response—almost entirely due to word of mouth and little thanks to the Max marketing team, mind you—and even still the show got cancelled? Can they make it make sense????

For me, the thing most akin to this OFMD situation was when Sense8 got cancelled. And yes, the fandom fought, and we eventually DID get a movie that wrapped things up years later! That gives me hope for OFMD, that maybe another network will pick it up, or maybe they’ll be able to make a movie someday. But what makes me sad about cases like Sense8 is knowing that the creators still had to force the narrative around the amount of time they were given. That the corporate overlords who only care about numbers and profit dictated how much time they had to wrap up their story.

And it fucking kills me that DJ only wanted one more season. One more season to complete the vision.

I'm just so mad that queer people are constantly being jerked around and used for profit and then left high and dry. And then we're given excuses like "oh there's no budget" or "oh there's not enough viewership, that's all it is". like, sure, maybe those are contributing factors, but then I look at all the useless garbage shows that have little viewership and high budgets that keep going forever and then I think "hmmmm, the math ain't mathing." It's fucking transparent; the corporations can spew all they want with their rainbow capitalism and talks about diversity, but the evidence is clear, and they can't convince me homophobia/racism/transphobia/etc. is not a factor in these decisions.

Anyways, back to OFMD. OFMD made me fall in love with fandom again. I drifted away from fandom for a while in my 20s, and while OFMD wasn't the first fandom that drew me back into the madness, it's certainly the largest. The sheer amount of creativity both within the show and outside of it has blown me away; I've read some of the best fics, seen some of the best art, and witnessed some of the most incredible creativity from people in this fandom.

And let's not forget the role of the show's creators and how they've interacted with us fans. They made us feel seen. And made us feel loved and valid, even when we were being weird and loud and horny. It's so fucking rare to see that. But they understood; understood that the show they made was for us, for any of us who've been marginalized or made to feel Othered or different or stuck in life or unsure of our identities. And they gave us so much love for it.

The story... man. The unique combination of quirky humour and bright visuals and dark, introspective moments, the gorgeous costumes and soft, lovely, unabashed queerness, and veteran actors and new actors all getting to shine, brilliant comedic actors getting to show off their dramatic chops and vice versa. For me, seeing Rhys Darby - an actor I've loved for a long time, but who I never thought I'd see in a leading role - getting to be the romantic lead in a queer role? And seeing acclaimed director/producer/screenwriter/actor Taika Waititi play opposite Rhys, as an indigenous Blackbeard? Fucking incredible. OFMD Edward Teach you will always be famous to me.

Anyways... despite my long ramblings here, I still don’t think I've been able to get to the root of WHY exactly this show has inched its way under my skin and stayed with me in the way it has. Maybe I'll spend years trying to understand it. But I DO know that it's in part to do with seeing both older queers AND a diverse range of queerness onscreen, in a way that I've never seen in media before. I DO know that OFMD has forced me to look inwardly, and allowed me to realize some important things about myself. About my own queerness, my own identity, things I'm still figuring out. I've cherished being able to see myself in Stede, in Ed, and each of the crew members. In Roach’s love for cooking, in Oluwande’s ability to mediate; in Jim’s quick temper, in the way Izzy builds walls to guard his heart. In Buttons’ quirkiness, in Wee John’s sass, in Frenchie’s ability to turn pain into humour; in The Swede’s silliness, in Lucius’ bluntness, in Pete’s soft heart beneath the skepticism. Lastly, OFMD has inspired me. To create, to write, to draw, to devour other peoples' works and worlds while I sit in sheer, overflowing joyousness at their talent.

so yeah. the news of this cancellation is upsetting and hurtful and disappointing. And it's making us cry, and it's making us grieve, and may make us hollow and numb at times because we've lost yet another thing we love so deeply before it was meant to go. It's so much more than "just a TV show". It means more to us than any passive mindless idiotic mind-numbing bullshit - because even though there's a time and a place and a purpose for that type of media, it's the thought-provoking work, the work that creators pour their entire hearts and souls into, that hit us deep in our own souls. The work that changes our lives. The work that has the ability to save lives, as I know OFMD has done for so many. 

please know I'm sending immense amounts of love and strength to those of you who are also hurting. we'll get through this, one way or another, and I'll keep up with the hope that we'll get more someday; but in the meantime, I'm holding you tight. ❤️️🫂

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 - Self-Aware AU

Headcanons about an Alternate Universe in which everyone knows they're living inside a videogame. However, Vertin is the only one aware of the entity inhabiting her own mind, the real conductor - the "Player".

this is one of my favorite AUs to slap on whatever media I'm into so here we are <3 not sure if anyone's done this already, but PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE link me if you've seen any other ppl write for this AU! this one and any actor AUs are my absolute fave

this is just a word vomit introduction for fun, to get the basic ideas out of my head, so I can start writing for characters individually!

Okay, okay! First of all, some context for the AU before I go deranged overexplaining my HCs!

Aside from the "Storm", there is something else that haunts the people of this world: the fact that their lives are nothing but a simulacrum, part of a game.

The requirements to obtain this "self-awareness" is unknown. Those within the Foundation believe it's related to their respective "roles", that only the main and relevant characters are given the chance to fully open their eyes to the truth. Those within Manus Vindictae claim that one must be strong enough to break through the fog of complacency and their assigned scripts, to have their full potential unleashed and obtain true liberation. Either way, similar to the "Storm", this is a well-kept secret for a very good reason - everyone wants to have the upperhand.

There is one outlier to this whole system. Vertin is not only aware of the truth of this world, but also of her duty as the eyes and hands of the "Player". She must experience it all for their sake. Or rather, whatever she experiences will be the story that the Player will see.

This applies to her suitcase, the place where the Player's influence increases tenfold, bending everything and everyone to their will through her own body and voice. The longer one stays within her suitcase - or within her general vicinity - the easier it is for them to become self-aware.

How does one become "self-aware" and what does it entail?

The requirements and the catalyst for a character to become self-aware are still a mystery. But that's mostly because I specifically wanted to keep them as vague as possible, to allow some flexibility for NPCs and other characters outside of Vertin's suitcase.

The whole process of gaining sentience or self-awareness is mostly described as waking up from a nightmare, or a very, very realistic dream. It's like a switch, something that happens in a second without any warnings whatsoever.

I like to think that most of the people who wake up are easy to spot, because it's a jarring experience and panicking is the most normal reaction - but that they're often taken care of by the Foundation or recruited by Manus Vindictae.

The levels of awareness also depend heavily on each individual - some only know that nothing is truly real, that everything they've done up until that point was just a carefully scripted lie, the most basic realization. Others can understand the rules that govern this game and use them to their advantage, either through observation and study or just inherently.

Overall, the experience of being sentient varies as well, with some describing a disconnect from their body, while others feel exactly the opposite. Again, keeping it pretty vague so that people can fill in with their own ideas!

I'll talk about Vertin's case in detail when we get to her specific bullet point, but the same way the Player is able to experience the "story" through her eyes, she's able to see the same things they do - this includes the UI, the menus and everything you can interact with in-game.

Vertin as a character and a vessel for the Player.

The most common thing I've seen in self-aware AUs in my years of fandom is to turn the player stand-in (the main character that serves for the player to experience the story through and/or project onto, depending on the genre of the game) into an obstacle, one that keeps the characters from truly interacting with the Player, capital P.

The second most common thing I've seen is to simply ignore the existence of this player stand-in and replace it with the Player themself, either through isekai methods or thanks to the customization the game allows, etc etc.

When it comes to Vertin in this AU, I know I want her to retain her role as the center of everything, instead of being sidelined by the Player. She's THE Timekeeper, after all.

There's still some details I'm trying to iron out, like whether she's always been self-aware or if she became self-aware at some point during her childhood at the St. Pavlov Foundation. But I like to think that her relationship to the Player is a parallel to her immunity to the "Storm" - neither of these two things are inherently good nor bad. Surviving the "Storm" is helpful, sure, but it's painful for her. Having an entity like the "Player" haunting her is scary, sure, but it can be an advantage. It's a matter of how she utilizes the assets she was given, since her adaptability and determination are big aspects of her character. Vertin makes up for her mediocre arcane skills with unconventional plans and strategies.

But this isn't to say that Vertin isn't affected by the presence of the Player. Ironically, she's the one person whose freedom is limited. During battles, her skills and Tuning are available to you, they can also prove to be vital to win a fight, but in the end you're still the one calling the shots and choosing when her friends get to attack. You're the one choosing the layout of the Wilderness. You're the one picking which one of her friends deserves to become stronger.

In the last bullet point I mentioned that some characters can understand the rules of the game - Vertin is the most extreme case, as she can see the same UI as you do. She learns the way you like to fight your battles, your own strategies, she can see this and more.

Overall it's a very complex dynamic. It's not as easy as saying that she likes or dislikes you, that she considers you a friend or foe. You're part of her, you influence each other in many aspects and are stuck together for reasons she can't even fathom. While you may be able to read her thoughts most of the time, she becomes invisible once you enter the suitcase - the main menu of the game. Sure, the character you selected to greet you every day is actually talking to her, not you, but she's out of your view and therefore, out of our range. That's when Vertin wonders the sort of person that you are, if you care about her friends as much as she does. Are you playing just to be entertained? Are you invested in these events? Will you be there for her until the end of her story?

Another detail I like to think about is that Vertin is the only one who knows your name. Because at the very beginning, you were asked to input a name and she was there.

[screenshot was taken from this video, since it's the first one I could find that showed this specific part of the game lol]

Well, "your name" not quite right - she knows that whatever you wrote there is the name linked to your account, at least. And that's the name she knows you as.

Those who take residence in Vertin's suitcase or spend prolonged amounts of time with her, growing closer to her and all, end up becoming self-aware. This is a direct side-effect of your presence.

I like to think that characters who reach the 100% Bond can begin to sense the Player, to see the world in a similar way as Vertin does. Maybe even feel their presence EXACTLY like Vertin does whenever there's a battle. There is someone else on the other side of this screen, the fourth wall, who watches over them.

To some, it's hard to differentiate Vertin from the Player, as they just go hand in hand - but Sonetto, for example, has the easiest time telling the two apart.

On the subject of freedom and acting out of script.

The Foundation, Manus Vindictae, Laplace... It doesn't matter if they're self-aware and acting outside of what their script dictates, because they're missing one key ingredient: you. No one else but Vertin and her group knows about your existence, after all.

They don't know that the only story that matters is the one that Vertin is part of. The one that the Player gets to see and read and experience. And because the game gives you a very limited view into the lives of these characters, you don't know what neither Arcana nor Constantine do behind the scenes. You and Vertin don't see that, therefore, it never truly mattered.

Those most likely to start "acting out" are the troublemakers within Vertin's suitcase. Characters who are too curious for their own good, who are more susceptible to supernatural entities, who are just too impulsive - they would start to test the limits and see how far they can go, how much they can interact with the Player. Can the game be broken should they end up shattering the fourth wall? Is there a way for the Player to communicate with them? What will happen to Vertin?

I like to think that Vertin probably supports this, as she's rather curious herself, prone to questioning everything. She would also like to learn more about the Player, to truly tear into the game and see the full extent of your influence and her freedom.

Sometimes, Regulus and X will change their usual voicelines, just enough to be noticeable if one pays enough attention. Characters like Sotheby or Leilani might slip up and address the Player, rather than Vertin. Lilya, Pavia, Bkornblume have new animations and different expressions, ones you've never seen before - they stare ahead, as if searching for something, and then smirk or hum to themselves, deep in thought, like they realized something you're not privy of.

Sometimes, if you leave them as your selected assistant on the main menu, you can catch them muttering to themselves - idle quotes you never heard enough, about the outside world. Diggers does this the most, it's almost embarassing how easy it is to catch him talking nonsense, followed by Sonetto. If you leave Medicine Pocket alone for too long, you might come back to a screen covered in weird scratch marks.

On the subject of these characters being curious about the outside world and all, I think that a good chunk of them are generally content with the way things are?

We have to remember that in-universe, they're arcanists displaced from their respective eras. Their best chance at surviving is siding with Vertin, and if Vertin is content with the way things are, then there's no point in trying to disrupt what they have right now. They're curious enough to prod, but only as far as Vertin allows it.

And I think that's it for the word vomit!

There are some details I didn't know where to fit in, like the possibility of the fourth wall slowly dissipating the more time the Player invests in the game, leading to some characters being able to directly hear you if you talk while playing and whatnot. Or what would happen should someone outside of Vertin's suitcase figure out the existence of the Player, let alone interact with you in some way.

Or the concept of death being meaningless, unless it was pre-established by the game itself.

In Borderlands, there's this game mechanic where you can just be revived over and over and pay a percentage of your money as a fee, even though the canon that's established is that you play through the whole story without dying a SINGLE time - because the revival mechanics aren't canon. There's the divide between story and gameplay. That's pretty much the standard. But what about the deaths in battles in R1999? The amount of times I died to 1.3's UTTU's Flash Gathering is insane. How do self-aware characters feel about this, now that they know that they're bound to die over and over and be brought back because you have to do your Pneuma Analysis or reach the final stage of Limbo?

But that's pretty much it for now, I think I got most thoughts out of my system! Thank you for reading!

[shuinami]

Part 1: What Exactly is Hobie’s Accent and Who Has It?

Part 2: When, Where, Why (Black Londoner Culture since Windrush) | Part 3: How (Writing Tips)

As a black Londoner, a large reason Hobie is so special to me is because I really saw and heard myself in him, while also not seeing a stereotype or typical, lacking in nuance portrayal of a black Londoner.

A lot of people have given great advice about how to write the dialogue of a British person; however, though the U.K. is a small place, different areas, like anywhere, have very different cultures and accents. Even somewhere as geographically small as London has a few different native accents, as many of you have picked up on, Cockney is one but there is also Received Pronunciation (RP), Estuary English and the one Hobie uses for most of his intro: Multicultural London English (MLE). 

I’m an MLE user myself, as are most black Londoners, including Daniel Kaluuya (who voices Hobie and was asked to make the dialogue sound authentic). Aside from tilting my head in slight confusion at some of the slang floating around the fandom, one of the last times I rewatched the movie, I noticed Hobie actually only uses one relatively ubiquitous Cockney phrase… and apparently, it was used inauthentically? On the other hand, he uses quite a few MLE phrases and constructions but it seems few people represent that in their fan content. 

It made me want to give my two cents and some advice on how to write the dialogue of an MLE user since I haven’t seen anyone do something like this yet.

In addition, I wanted to give a little bit of context about life as a black Londoner, since Windrush brought the first mass migration of black people to England in 1948 until now, since it’s another thing that I haven’t seen anyone talk about how it differs from the typical depictions of British life. And also how that intersected with punk culture and what it says about Hobie. Everyone is entitled to their personal interpretations but, of course, as someone who Hobie’s a bit closer to home for than most, I felt a lot of people are missing a key part of who he is without understanding the youth culture of black Londoners.

To answer these questions, I think it would be good to put names to the four main London accents so you can understand exactly what Hobie’s purposefully mixed accent is made up of and the one thing it is not.

I also want to say before we get into it that some people have unique accents/accents that may not seem to match their status or ethnicity, etc. so it’s not that nobody speaks using other accents but if we hear it, it would be noticeable.

Starting off, we have Received Pronunciation which is that posh, fancy and stuffy accent you probably first associated a British accent with. This is the accent of the rich, associated with types who go to private schools like Eton, with the royals’ accents and political figures. Nothing to do with Hobie.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, there’s Cockney. Cockney is an interesting one; it’s a term referring to people that are from East London, and according to Google “traditionally one born within the hearing of the Bow Bells” which means in earshot of the bells of St Mary-le-Bow Church. 

The term is also used to cover the accent and slang; the Cockney accent is not necessarily exclusive to Cockney people but rather is one that, nowadays, floats around the working class. The culture, on the other hand, such as familiarity with rhyming slang and stuff like eating jellied eels is not so ubiquitous amongst the working class not from the area. An example of a Cockney with this accent would be Danny Dyer, who plays Mick Carter in EastEnders and some of the other characters also have a proper Cockney accent. Here’s an iconic clip from EastEnders that showcases the Cockney accent lol

However, there is a more general accent, which refers to the varying mixtures of RP and cockney that most Londoners have: Estuary English. The estuary in the term refers to the Thames Estuary in the South East of England, near but outside of London. The accent is not locked there, however, and extends to London, especially as people have tended to move further out from London with time due to housing prices and thus accents of outer and inner parts of London mix. It’s not associated with class the way the other two previous accents are.

There are no clear boundaries between Estuary English and Cockney, mainly due to upward mobility and movement around London. I’m not a linguist so it’s hard to describe but I would personally say that proper Cockney has some ways of pronouncing things that even Estuary English speakers on the Cockney end of the spectrum don’t typically do. 

Some examples I would consider Estuary English or more typical accents would be those of people like Amelia Dimoldenberg (chicken shop girl 😂) and Tom Holland; on the more Cockney end of this accent, you’d have people like Adele (who I’m pretty sure has Cockney family members).

Then there’s Multicultural London English, influenced mainly by the dialects of the ethnic immigrants that have come to the U.K., most notably Jamaican Patois but also, more recently, borrowing a lot from West African Pidgin languages, as well as some words and phrases here and there from other immigrant communities. Most black people speak MLE and many other ethnic Londoners do too, as due to the effects of colonization and structural racism, many are relegated to the working classes and live in community together. Examples of this accent would be John Boyega, Jasmine Jobson, Letitia Wright and, of course, Daniel Kaluuya.

Now that we’ve got the accents down, which does Hobie have?

While the term Cockney is thrown around a lot, there is a strong implication that Hobie was born and raised in Camden, especially given the casting of Daniel Kaluuya, who was born and raised in that area himself. 

Here’s a map of London, I split us up based on how I understand people typically refer to it, which is a mix of geography, government designation and postcodes. The rainbow in the middle is considered Central London, it’s a very commercial and touristy area, where all our classic landmarks are and it’s very expensive to live there. 

Part of the borough of Camden is in central London and, currently, it starts to get more residential near Camden Market, which is 3 miles away from St Mary-le-Bow-Church, aka. The Bow Bells. A true Cockney is said to be within 3 miles or earshot of the bells (for geographical reasons, the sound carries more East). I’m not sure about the balance of residential to commercial areas in the 70s, although apparently, the area near Camden Lock was industrial. London has changed and expanded over time so someone from an east-most part of Camden at a point probably would have been easily counted as Cockney but I have no clue about the timeline. It’s uncertain whether or not Hobie would fit the criteria but if he was born today, Hobie definitely wouldn’t be considered or consider himself a Cockney. 

So again, while there’s no clear distinction of what makes a Cockney accent, Hobie is probably not a Cockney (unless you hc as such).

Does that mean he uses Estuary English? I would say no. I think his accent is predominantly Cockney and he uses some of the slang, as most Londoners do, but being black and not from East London, he mostly uses MLE slang and sentence constructions.

I believe this was the creative intention, given the casting of Daniel Kaluuya, most known for his roles in movies tackling black issues, and the freedom he was given to make the dialogue authentic, meaning Hobie’s blackness is a core part of his character design for Spider-Verse. You can also hear Daniel exaggerating the accent for Hobie at points; as he’s said himself, it’s not just his regular accent, which might not be too obvious to those not so used to London accents. It's a more Cockney accent, particularly in the intro, that he’s putting on instead of speaking normally, despite not necessarily using much Cockney lingo. Bear in mind, that Daniel naturally has a stronger Cockney twang to his natural speaking voice than a lot of MLE speakers.

Returning to the point that the one Cockney phrase, “scooby doo” was used inauthentically; it’s worth noting that you’ll be hard-pressed to find an up-to-date and thorough reference or guide on how to write the use of Cockney slang authentically because Cockney is a somewhat dated culture. For example, jellied eels? Not a common thing anymore, Some people, probably older East Londoners, still do eat them but extremely few places sell them and most of us will have never even seen them in our lives. As mentioned above, upward mobility along with people moving around means that the accent, slang and general culture have been watered down over time. On top of that, a lot of East London has been gentrified, such as the Isle of Dogs (in Tower Hamlets), which has had Canary Wharf transformed - a mall, a business centre and a major transport link and Stratford (in Newham), which has similarly had a giant mall and major transport links added to it.

Some Cockney rhyming slang stuck and is known to all Londoners, such as “telling porkies/porky pies” and “copper”. “I ain’t got a scooby (doo)” is a more common one, although not even that is known to all. Typically, Cockneys only say the first half of the rhyming slang phrase (even if it no longer rhymes). I couldn’t tell you which Cockney rhyming slang phrases have been absorbed into more general London vocab other than those, because again, it’s not used as most lists you could probably find online have it written out in full but know that a lot of phrases have been absorbed. 

Cockney slang is an oral tradition of the working class and so until more recently, when literacy rates went up, probably wouldn’t have been written, on top of people tending to write in standard English instead of using slang when writing. Unless you’re talking to a boomer/gen-x/older millennial from East London, it’s not so likely that you could read off a list of cockney phrases to a Londoner and they would be familiar with them. Because Daniel Kaluuya and I’m guessing the other people involved in writing Hobie’s dialogue aren’t Cockneys, well, that’s how we ended up with what we got.

So, whilst a dated dialect probably would be perfect for Hobie, it’s hard to get right or for it to read as natural to a Londoner because it’s difficult to pinpoint people that still talk like that on a regular basis, even in East London and it’s ESPECIALLY not black people/MLE users that talk like that these days. Cockney Rhyming slang was code language, after all so it figures that it’s a bit elusive.

Funnily enough, Hobie’s use of MLE is probably a slight anachronism, a little ahead of his time. Because the mass migration of Caribbeans began in 1948, by the 70s, most young black people would be the first big wave of second gens or immigrants themselves; ‘Black British’ culture would’ve still been quite young and not had enough time to carve itself as its own thing. The MLE we (including Hobie in the movie) use today started to really be what it is today in the 90s. Point being, you’re not going to find documentation of black Londoners from the 70s or early 80s who talk like Hobie.

Basically… Hobie’s accent is not authentic to the time period so if you wanted to write a historically authentic accent/slang… then you probably wouldn’t really write one… buuut it’s less fun and less Hobie! So let’s learn about black British youth culture and racism in London since the 70s, then we can understand the context in which the language is used before we learn the lingo + how to use it 😎