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#mostly self taught at least
victorckk · 5 months
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Art tips
that I posted to my discord server, but decided to share here for anybody who might want or need them.
I’ve been drawing since the middle/near end of 2014 and while most of it was ugly MLP stuff, I’ve definitely improved a lot since then.
I don’t have a lot of my old art anymore, but if I can find my sketchbook from my high school art class (around 2019-ish) then I’ll update this post with pictures of some of the doodles tomorrow.
I’ll probably add on to this list eventually but for now I am really tired so,, whoopsies
Anyway, on to the tips!
Even if you think it’s ugly, DRAW !! That’s the only way you’ll improve. Draw what you might think looks horrible, only to come back to it later and see what you want to change or what might need to be changed. This helps you understand what parts of your styles and/or techniques you might want to change/use/stylize/etc.
STEP OUTSIDE OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE!!!! This one is IMPORTANT. If you keep drawing the same things in the same ways over and over again, it’ll catch up to you and burn you out eventually. Those things you’ve always wanted to draw of a specific media/fandom/etc. but always forced yourself not to because of your followers being from one specific fandom or something? DRAW IT. It’ll feel refreshing, trust me.
Just go crazy. Slap colors on a random doodle. Eventually you’ll either come up with a new character or inspiration for one. Use flowers, gemstones, other parts of nature, etc. as reference. I actually fell victim to this and now quite a few of my OCs are flower themed 💀
Make use of your sketchbook. Find some snazzy ways to make it stand out. If you want to make a collage of nothing but magazine clippings or your favorite characters? Go ahead. Your sketchbook is supposed to be personalized to YOUR liking. It’s like a home you can always come back to
Doodle in pen when you want to step out of your comfort zone,, oh my goodness I can’t explain how good this feels. ESPECIALLY colored ink with highlighters. It also trains you to learn how to draw without erasing mistakes, teaching you to learn to accept those mistakes as you go on. Most of my sketchbook doodles throughout the years have always been in pen and it’s my favorite medium 100%
Who cares if your paper is ripping from highlighters or countless layers of markers? Find a way to make use of that ripping and warping of the paper. Cut out a shape in that area that shows part of a doodle on the next page, sort of like a little window. Have fun with it! Your work doesn’t need to be or look professional. It’s all about having fun as you go
If there’s art supplies you never use that collect dust then start using them. I guarantee they’ll come in handy eventually + when used right they can definitely make your sketches and doodles stand out. I am a victim of this as well.. we don’t talk about my um decade old stash of sharpies 😕
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derpinette · 9 months
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english used to be the normie filter & how you could tell someone was a Trve Internethead but after the DAMNED 2020 quarantine for obvious reasons EveryBody & They Momma is acceptably fluent so now i have to learn swedish or something. -_-
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#already been spending time this past year & a half i only need someone to actually speak it with IRL for maximum efficiency#technically i want to say 2019 people were already turning to english at least in my city. 7 year old me would be so happy but#ARRRRRRGHHHHHHH#YOU ARE POSERS I HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON WITH YOU & I NEVER WILL. has me feeling so ♯DECEIVED#native english speakers will probably never understand this feel#speaking english now is just as cringe as i thought being francophone was a decade ago Yes even as a child i was against normies#i was forcibly taught.by my millennial older brother i had no choice but to abide by that line of thought & so here i am today#well he was right. not anymore he ain't but he used to be#but technically you can say this new wave of self taught anglophones are going against the current & remnants of colonialism so well#it is a good thing objectively i just miss the ease of recognizing Real back in the day TT_TT like you just KNEW they shared your interests#& weirdness they knew your references it said something about what their social status likely was too ETC ETC. But not anymore...#i enjoyed it tho i had a bestfriend whom i mostly spoke english with & we were known for it we were outcasts#i distinctly remember this fag who got so mad at us & harassed us for it during middle school recess. like fluency was a bad thing#we were not even gossiping about him Altho we should have been. & that was the best part is that it was a barrier#so you could talk about anything out loud & nobody would be able to understand you & at the time it was just us & our older siblings#+their friends
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solradguy · 1 year
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Ok, about 230 words of LtA translated tonight. There was a paragraph with a giant complicated sentence that slowed me down a bit. Better than no progress at all though!
Bernard was introduced in what I translated tonight. I saw on the wiki that it seems he's generally referred to as Ky's butler, but I decided to render the word 「執事」 as "steward" instead because he does more than just cleans Ky's house and bring him tea biscuits lol
Bernard manages crime syndicate reports, compiles summaries of them, and works as an analyst for Ky at the former Holy Order HQ in Paris, too. That's way above a standard "butler," imo. It seems like the word 「家令」 more generally means what we think of a butler as in English anyway.
LtA hasn't referred to Bernard with「家令」 at all, but if Norimitsu uses that or「バトラー」to refer to his job later I'll change it.
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angryborzois · 7 months
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Oh shit there's actually no way
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natailiatulls07 · 2 months
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your charles x sister! reader fics are so cute! i love them so so so so so so much!! i was wondering if you could write one where charles and his teen! sister get in an argument (mostly his fault) and she’s ignoring him and he has to leave for a race before he can apologise and she still supports him but won’t talk to him and him making it up to her eventually pretty please! i love your work so much !!!
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Charles Leclerc x Sister!reader
Summary - The request above :3
Warnings - Arguing and swearing
A/n - Thank you lovie! I feel like I haven't done Leclerc Sister fic in a long while so it's great to be back <3
Masterlist
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Usually the week before a triple header, Charles likes to spend his free time around family. He feels like it gives him that chance to relax and get back into the right mindset. During this time the family would play board games, catch up on favourite tv shows and catch up on life. 
Charles loves this time. With his formula one schedule and Arthur's schedule, it’s not often that the two brothers can hang out with their older brother and younger sister. They all come together to spend this time as they did before he and Arthur started karting.
However this week something was off. Everyone in the family could see how indifferent Charles was acting. It wasn’t like no one knew why, it was pretty clear why he was acting like this. 
From the start of the season, Ferrari wasn’t having a good time. At least once every race, something went wrong. And Charles was getting the shorter end of the stick, he felt like he was getting totally screwed off in every possible way.
He really tried to not let it affect him but this was his career, without this he’d be nothing. So naturally this was going to crush his self-esteem, his confidence and his calmed headspace.
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'Charles?' Y/n’s voice broke through the quietness of his stream, everyone watching could see how tense Charles was. The chat, which was going unnoticed by the pair, was speeding down the screen with fans welcoming the younger one of the two. 
username my fav leclerc!! username Y/n I love you username hi Y/nnn username the best leclerc is here yayyy
He stayed silent, barely acknowledging Y/n. 'Charles? Maman made dinner, she told me to come get you' Everyone could see how Charles just rolled his eyes and how he grumbled when she wouldn’t leave. 
There was a beat of silence, the only noise filling the room was the occasional sound coming from his game. 'Charles?' Y/n asked again, confused as to why he wasn't replying.
And then, finally he spoke up. 'God Y/n, can you not see?! I’m busy, fuck off!' It wasn’t often that Y/n saw Charles in this light; heck this was the first time his fans were seeing him in this light. It was as if he had forgotten about all of them having front row seats to his interaction with Y/n.
They could all see the annoyance on Y/n’s face, she wasn’t going to back down just because of one fuck off thrown her way. 'What’s up with you?' She snapped back, her mother raised her not to take shit from anyone - Espercially not her brothers. 'Whatever it is, don’t take it out on me cause I did fuck all to piss you off'
Even after her argument, Charles still couldn’t back down. Funnily enough they have the same mother, so this meant they were taught the same exact thing. He wasn’t going to take shit from her either. 'Do you ever consider that maybe, just maybe, that you are the problem? I come home in the middle of an exhausting season, only for you to come and annoy me just like a fucking child.' He pauses the game and turns in his seat, completely forgetting again that he’s on stream. 'Grow the fuck up.'
The chat is practically flying by now, all the comments shouting at Charles for being so rude.
username what the fuck Charles! username better than any reality tv omfg username don't be rude to my fav leclerc like thattt username this isn't Charles, what is going on???
Y/n bursts into a sarcastic laughter, only infuriating her older brother more. 'Haha you’re so fucking funny! Even you, after being the one who helped me come out of your shadow, can make me feel so shit..'
The way she spat out her words scared Charles, he knew he fucked up. Everyone watching the stream could see how his face paled and how, with a deep frown and tears clouding her eyes, Y/n walked out of the room angerily before vigorously slamming the door.
Chat could see a grimace on his face as Charles' face fell in his hands. A deep sigh could be heard through the mic and then the stream turned black. It ended - Understandable.
-
The days following was icy cold in the Leclerc family, everyone but Y/n had been walking on eggshells. Charles felt like shit, he knew about the shadow behind himself and how it really effected the people around him (Espercially his siblings).
He knew he had to leave for the triple header soon but the thing is he has never left on a bad foot with any of his family and espercially for a long time. His anxiety was riding high.
The evening before his flight to spain, he was sat on the sofa at his childhood home with his mother and Alexandra. 'Fuck..I messed up' Infront of him, Leo was rolling around on the carpet.
Pascale just sighed, she was silently agreeing with her son because she had seen first hand the effects of fame had on Lorenzo, Arthur and Y/n. However on the other hand, she knew that it was harder for him - She just wished he handled the argument better.
'Where is she now?' Alexandras soft voice spoke up, her hand relaxing on top of her partners.
Looking over to the clock, the older women answered. 'Her friends place, I think her friendship group are having a little party you know..' That'd explain the almost eerie silence through the house. 'She'll come around, this won't last long.' A chuckle left the older womens lips. 'Never does..'
If only she knew, Pascale would be eating her words.
-
The next couple of weeks were long and hard for Charles. It seemed like everything had been going incredibly wrong for the guy. Almost every race he was finishing outside of points, the days were long and every time he'd message his little sister, he wouldn't get a reply.
You see Y/n was active on social media and Charles could see this, he could see how she was continuing to attend to her usual activities. Going to her University lectures, doing her little side influencer job and hanging out with friends.
He had heard from both his older brother and his mother how they could tell how the argument effected the youngest Leclerc. Much like Charles, this space between them was hard. Yet, she'd watch the races for him and support him. That being some sort of reassurance for Charles.
Luckily for him, he had some time between the end of the triple header at Silverstone and the next race in Hungary so the evening after the race he was on a flight back to Nice.
It didn't take long for Charles and Alexandra to arrive back to Monaco, popping to his childhood home once again. Walking in they could tell that immediately that Pascale wasn't home but then again someone was home, which only meant one person was here.
Placing her bag down on the kitchen counter, Alexandra made her way over to the stairs. 'Y/n are you home?' There was several patters of footsteps above the couple as she made her way to the living room where Charles was sat anxiously waiting. His knee was continuously bouncing up and down before Alexandra's soft hand came rest just over his kneecap. 'You'll be fine..' She whispered gently.
It didn't take long for his baby sister to reveal herself, dressed in her work out gear. Y/n tried her best to hide her anxiety and hesitation, much like her brother she hated the past weeks. 'Salut..' (Hi) She breathed out.
Charles' eye lit up when he saw her, a small smile on his face. 'Hé, où est maman?' (Hey, where's mum?) It was safe to say that small talk wasn't going to be the best thing right now but they both knew it'd help.
He watched her as she moved to sit on the opposite sofa in her usual seat. 'Elle déjeune avec une amie…Marie' (She is having lunch with a friend…Marie) Both the Ferrari driver and his girlfirnd nodded slowly and understandingly.
There was a few seconds of a surprisingly comfortable silence, no one knowing what to say until Charles felt Alexandra sharply nudge him. Looking at her in shock, she quietly urged him to apologize. 'Look I'm sorry princesse..'
Almost giving herself whip lash, Y/n looked up from she was nervously checking her nails. And then there was a moment of quiet again, she didn't know what to say. Part of wanted to be cheeky and the other wanted to be sentimental. Suddenly her lips screwed into a small smirk, and Charles would be lying if it didn't scare him.
'You know it was pretty shitty what you did.' She let out a laugh and the pair followed in suit, Charles nodding knowingly. 'But you're my big brother, you're pretty shitty in general..' He was glad she was joking about, and he allowed her joke about him.
A smile had taken its shape on his face. 'Yeah I know, forgive me?' He asked, needing to satify that last bit of anxiety in him. To which he got a quick nod in return and immediately he was up, pulling her in a long over due hug.
At first it was sweet but immediately ruined when Charles heard Y/n mumble. 'Make me a dedicated instagram post and then I'll forgive you properly..' He just sighed knowingly as a laugh escaped Alexandras lips. Of course he was being blackmailed.
'Fine.' A grumble left his lips. 'You're lucky..'
-
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rgbalphameter · 2 years
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very cool! i especially loved the tech and holo stuff, maybe you could do more :3 like cmd text input page or something vaporwave. can't wait to see what else you make!
you. youre a genius.
ysee i DID start out at vaporwave years ago, like, in 2018, but then i dropped into the black neon mix of outrun stuff ridiculously fast, and, obviously, ive been staying here as you can see. but now that i can make patterns i think its about time i try to touch again the pastel mixes of that genre again- plus its trivial like. theres the rgba split node for example. if i split the channel and just nudge each aside then merge again i can have fake 3d rainbow effects, which was one thing i commonly used for my vaporwave art back when i was strictly drawing and didnt know sustance yet, and then i can nudge That with the hsl node if i want diff colours than a RGB glitch look and, say, drag it towards CMY instead which is more typical of the pastels of vaporwave. also imho the normal node generates a pretty vaporwavey colour scheme, and. as you know. i am not above misusing the fuck out of this program *glances at the poor, poor hald clut and 3d cube gbuffer nodes*. i think i also can use dir warps to simulate glitches, with greyscale stripes of random widths at the same angle as the dir warp. i also have yet to test the text node. so like. thanks ! im getting a fuckton of ideas per second so thisll be :eyes:, i wanna make palm trees stuff for example, overlapping w gradients. i also had attempts at circuit generators previously, i need to fix these and keep looking for solutions for these to. yknow. really look like circuits.
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an idea for these is to stop trying to have em be going in multiple ways and instead pick One, like, for example, im thinking horizontal, so then i can use horizontal offset and shift around each row and Boom cool circuits and all. (im lowkey using this post as notes for myself dont worry if you have no idea what the fuck im talking about). i have many others really but. ngl im also partly basing this on this One texture i made in CSP that looked cool
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it is *egregously inaccurate* when it comes to how circuits work, but... rule of cool ??? still. that said yeah in the Real one id like things to be a bit more realistic/believable to anyone who ever saw a real circuit.
ill try to do things this afternoon/tonight ! i have stuff for my queue up to thursday so expect the test runs to start showing up past that ! you can DM me off anon if you want me to show you wips in private and discuss more ideas, ngl i am super excited, thank you !!
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theminecraftbee · 10 months
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you know it's INTERESTING to look back at the double life soulmate pairs and see how they're doing now, relationship-wise, because that experience shaped every soulmate pair differently, i think:
ren and bigb i'll put first on account of "we have no idea since ren hasn't been in the series since double life". when will our doggy come back from the war.......
grian and scar are... grian and scar, the soulbond alone is only part of everything going on there. i think being FORCED to team shaped them a bit into being a little/lot more stable in their relationship with each other in limited life and secret life, as well as maybe taught them a bit about each other's limits. i am... honestly not a desert duo guy there are people who can do the analysis of the soulmate bond's impact on them WAY better than me but. it's part of their overall arc, you know?
martyn and cleo are fun. they both are still clearly CLOSE but they are also both still clearly mistrustful and angry at each other! they have this whole "the only one who can kill you is me" dynamic going on between each other that's very fun. i think being soulmates... obviously they were one half of divorce quartet and the resentment of being forced together did some stuff to that relationship. but i think maybe it also sort of gave them something that they appreciate about each other as well? and they DO care, despite everything. (i could GO INTO THIS LET ME TELL YOU.) so like, they aren't close friends or anything, but they Know Each Other now. and that's a fun dynamic.
impulse and bdubs are funny because i think their bond both did and didn't shape them. the thing is, like desert duo, their soulbond is only one step in their journey, the one that ARGUABLY only settled out in limlife after impulse permakilled bdubs. (note that this is the first series where bdubs hasn't gotten a clock! he is FINALLY PAST that one relationship!) that said i think being each other's ridiculously happy married couple did something to impulse specifically, actually. i think it sort of confused and solidified the grudge and it also like, showed him the almost-happy-loyalty that he wanted in the world. i think these days impulse, at least, has a different idea of 'loyalty' and 'betrayal' thanks to that. and bdubs... i think it's relevant that despite bdubs intentionally CONSTANTLY THROWING UP BETRAYAL FLAGS, he never actually did it. and i don't think he ever actually would. but in terms of their relationship to EACH OTHER? the soulbond was, yeah, only one step in how that arc went.
scott and pearl are... interesting. it's funny; for one of the single most consequential soulbonds in double life, it like... mostly hasn't come up again in their relationship? part of this i think is that pearl's LONELINESS had more of an impact on her than anything scott specifically did, and scott choosing had more of an impact on him. so to each other they're mostly... normal? both a bit mistrustful but like... normal? it's in the ways they act with other people that this experience shaped them, i think; i could say something about scott's next major relationship being mean gills, and the way pearl is only now learning to be a part of a team that cares again. also, pearl's discovery of her bloodlust. that kind of happened in last life to be fair, but it's relevant,
jimmy and tango are surprisingly simple because they were one of the most stable and normal soulmate pairs, lol. they're each other's ranchers! they're still friendly to each other even when their teams are on opposite sides! i think having one relationship where he was the more self-assured one was nice for jimmy and tango having a guy who, rather like skizz, was never going to point out much when tango screwed up on account of Pot Meet Kettle was nice for him, and they both know it was nice. they both get more into the teasing now that they know each other better--a big part of the early ranchers dynamic is that they Did Not Know Each Other but now that they DO it's starting to settle into something shaped more like the kinds of relationships both tango and jimmy tend to have (and they are BOTH the kinds of people to have a lot of friendly mocking in their relationships i wouldn't be surprised if that gets Even More in the future)--but i think out of everyone they probably remember the soulmates thing the most fondly, given the degree to which they are still Buddies.
etho and joel are... good lord the boat boys. on the one hand: clearly they both still enjoy pointing out that the boat boys happened. joel gets... weirdly jealous of other people hanging out with etho? on the OTHER hand they seem determined to murder each other so so so bad. i like to think that their soulbond is a thing they look back on fondly from this but ALSO they both have such weird commitment hangups and bloodlust that maybe the fact they want to kill each other SO BADLY was inevitable. also interesting, though, is how much of this bloodlust comes from etho, given that normally you'd expect joel's relationships to go the other way. what i THINK is happening is that joel still feels a lot of loyalty towards the boat boys somewhere in his head (hence the jealousy and not typically being the one to lash out), whereas etho thinks of it as largely Done and Past, but thinks of it fondly--hence bringing it up every time he has to kill joel, and also the weird tendency to gravitate towards joel specifically. I DON'T KNOW MAN I WOULDN'T HAVE PREDICTED BEFORE LIMLIFE THAT BOAT BOYS WOULD BE THE SOULMATE PAIR THAT WERE WEIRDEST ABOUT EACH OTHER BUT HERE WE ARE,
anyway i just think it's funny to look back on the various soulbonds and realize which ones have had a big impact on sticking around and which ones haven't, you know?
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francis-writes · 7 months
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A/N: I love this request, there's nothing better than inherent subtextual eroticism of fighting together and trying to kill each other (Fr it's good for all kinds of bonding; i spent a year learning judo and self-defense and there's something real about friendship and trust between two people who every week throw each other on the floor, strangle each other and twist each other's arms)
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you knew how to fight, at least the basics. Enough to defend yourself, but there's never too much fighting skills in this dangerous world. Especially when you live on Giedi Prime
When you asked Feyd if he could teach you (after all he was a famous warrior), he immediately agreed. He enjoyed every occasion to fight and even if he wasn't going to kill you or maim you, the idea of training together still made him happy (and turned on). It's just two his favourite things mixed together: you and violence
Your training together included many things; building your strength and stamina, wrestling barehand, fighting with many weapons (mostly knives but also iron bars, whips, swords etc)
No matter how much affection he holds for you, he's a teacher with high standards so don't count on any special treatment. He attacks you, like he would attack his real opponent and if you don't have good enough reflex, then next time act faster. He won't hurt you (more than a few scratches and bruises) but Feyd points out every time you make a mistake
Even if you are tired or not in the mood, he kinda forces you to it, just like Gurney Halleck forces Paul. It's well-meaning, considering that danger doesn't choose a moment when you're perfectly relaxed and full of energy
When you get better, he offers you a fight with a drugged up prisoner. What you say to that is up to you
NSFW: even though he's a professional warrior and these lessons taught you a lot, they really often ended up in sex (not even in the bedroom, poor servants had later more trouble with cleaning floor od training room than usual). It was enough that during fight he pressed you to the floor. Or you put a knife to his throat. Or you got scratched and started bleeding (he will immediatelylick that blood off). That's why Feyd can never took you to war.
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imagineaworld · 6 months
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training season 🗡️ cassian
summary: cassian is overseeing your training, and despite his attempts to keep it professional, when he learns his desire for you is reciprocated, he can't hold back any longer
warnings: 18+, smut, implied r*pe/SA (off-page, in past), blood, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink if you squint,
word count: 1.7k
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Your relationship was strictly professional.
At least, that's what Cassian told himself as he admired your body carrying out the manoeuvres he had instructed.
The way you moved with such grace despite emulating movements designed to end a life captivated him. It was impossible for him to take his eyes off you, partly because he was overseeing your training. But mostly because he was undeniably attracted to you.
Flustered from the exertion, you turned to him for feedback.
"That was good," he praised. "You're still holding your sword a little low. If you were fighting someone your own size, it'd be perfect."
Unspoken was the hint that the assailants you'd been training to fend off were male, thus much larger than you.
Cassian had offered to train you when he had spotted you at a fighting ring - not to place bets, but to watch the fighters' movements and tactics to teach yourself how to fight.
He'd known you for a while by then, and was aware of a traumatic event in your past that was the cause of your dedication to fend for yourself; to never be weak again. He saw that determination in your eye and found himself offering to train you before he had even a chance to consider it.
Over the past three months, you had thrived under Cassian's tutelage. From your own self-teaching, you had a good foundation to work with, and Cassian had a front-row seat for your transformation. Rather inconveniently, Cassian's attraction towards you had also thrived in that time.
Clearly frustrated with yourself, you began the movements again, making sure to hold your sword a little higher. Your two-hour session must have been over, because Azriel arrived to winnow the two of you back into the village.
"Looking good, Y/N!" Azriel called from his spot beside Cassian, eliciting a grin from you.
A spark of jealousy flared in Cassian at the affection.
You were Azriel's friend first. It was through Az that Cassian had met you, on a night out in a tavern. You had tried to keep up with the boys, but your lower tolerance left you requiring an escort home, which Cassian was happy to oblige.
Sheathing your sword in one swift movement - a vast improvement from the first few times, showing how quickly your training was becoming muscle memory - you made your way over to Cassian and Azriel. A sheen of sweat glistened on your brow as you caught your breath, causing Cassian's mind to wonder how you might look after a good fuck.
Nope. Cassian shut down that thought before it could alter his scent and make things very awkward. For the most part, he had done a good job holding the reins on his desire - only a few lingering touches and straying glances. To his knowledge and relief, you had not picked up on anything.
Guilt ate at him for his thoughts about you. You had trusted him - a male - to oversee your training, despite your experiences with males. He would not take advantage of his position just to get in your pants. It would be overstepping a boundary.
Az winnowed the three of you back to your village, dropping you off just outside your little cabin on the outskirts, before he disappeared again.
"Same time again tomorrow?" You asked Cassian.
He nodded in confirmation. "You did good today, Y/N."
Your smile at his praise was enough to put out the flicker of jealousy.
-
A knock sounded at your front door just after two in the morning, jolting you awake.
Instantly alert, you grabbed the dagger from under your mattress and clambered out of bed as silently as you could. As you stalked toward your front door, you monitored for any sound of danger - just like Cassian had taught you.
You pressed your ear against the door but could hear nothing amiss. Guardedly, you unlocked the bolt and opened up the door, dagger ready.
Cassian stood before you.
Your shoulders sagged at the relief, the possibility of threat gone. But once you noticed Cassian's face bloody and bruised, you tensed up again.
"What happened?" You asked him softly, ushering him inside and bolting the door behind him.
"Sorry if I woke you." He spoke quietly.
You motioned for him to sit down, dagger clattering on the table as you set about wetting a rag to wipe the blood from his face. So gently, you patted his bruised face, removing both dried and wet blood, his nose still trickling.
"You get in a fight, hm?" You asked absently, more focused on cleaning him up.
Cassian just said, "You should see the other guy."
You stood between his spread legs as he sat in a chair that was groaning under his weight. Each gentle touch of your skin on his sent shivers down Cassian's spine. He became hyper-aware of just how little you were wearing.
Used to seeing you in fighting leathers, Cassian's attention snagged on the gauzy nightgown you wore. The white flimsy material left little to the imagination, and he could see your peaked nipples in his direct eye-line.
He cleared his throat, shifting about and attempting to avert his eyes. But there was nothing else to look at, you were standing so close to him. The floral scent of you was overwhelming - far more overbearing than when he caught your scent outdoors.
"I hadn't realised you wouldn't be decent," Cassian said as you finished cleaning the blood off his face.
You looked down at your nightgown. "Am I not decent?" You asked.
Cassian's eyes trailed you as you retreated a few feet away, rummaging through a cupboard for a balm to put on the cut on his cheekbone, the bloody rag discarded.
"Your nightgown," he ground out. "Leaves little to the imagination."
"You like it?" It sounded innocent, but it was laced with something more. A challenge.
You made your way back over with some of the balm on your fingertip, returning back to your spot between his legs as you applied it to his bruised face. 
"You think I don't see the way you look at me?" You asked. Cassian's stomach dropped. "I know you want me. I want you in the same way. Why do you hold back?"
He was dumbfounded. Language seemed to escape him. But you had said the words he had been desperate to hear. I want you. That was enough for him. 
He let go of his restraint.
Wasting no time, he rose to his feet. He loved the way he towered over you, how small you were compared to his huge form. Fingers under your chin, he tilted your face up to his. He captured your lips with his own, hard and hungry. You tasted even better than he had imagined as he thought of you late at night by himself. The way you opened your mouth to let him in sent blood straight to his cock. 
Eagerly, you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them one by one. Once his shirt was off and tossed aside, you broke the kiss only to pull your nightdress over your head, leaving you utterly bare before him. 
He let out a growl at the sight, his large hands roaming your body, soft under his rough touch. With a hand on your ass, he pulled you closer against him. The moan that escaped you as you felt how hard he was was like music to his ears.
Without warning, he lifted you as though you weighed nothing. You braced yourself, hands on the bulging muscles in his arms, as you wrapped your legs around his torso. With such ease, he carried you over to your bed, laying you down gently and kicking off his boots.
The sight of you bare beneath him had his cock straining against his suddenly too-tight trousers. You tilted your head back, exposing your neck to him. Seizing the opportunity, he pressed his lips to your neck, kissing, sucking, nipping with his teeth. Claiming you as his, marking you. Slowly, he worked his way down, kissing and licking your chest, between the valley of your breasts. Finally, he placed his mouth over your peaked nipples, which had been torturing him since he'd first noticed them. All the while, Cassian toyed with your slick pussy, dipping his fingers in and out in a motion that had you writhing beneath him.
You were so lost in the pleasure, you hadn't even noticed his trousers come off until his impressive length was lined up with your entrance.
"Say you want it," Cassian's voice was so full of lust you could barely think.
"Please," you murmured. "I want it."
Slowly, Cassian pushed inside you. You cried out at the feeling of his cock filling you, stretching you. He groaned at how tight you felt, aware of his size as he gave you time to adjust once he was fully seated inside you.
"Cassian," you breathed, fingers clawing at his back, desperate for him to move.
He began to thrust, gradually picking up the pace as your body adjusted to his. With each thrust, he hit that sweet spot that had your orgasm building already. 
"Fucking hell, you're so tight," he ground out.
You dug your nails into his back and clamped your teeth around his shoulder to muffle your moans. His pace was unrelenting. 
"I'm so close," you moaned.
"Cum for me, baby," he coaxed.
Obeying, you cried out as release barrelled into you, stars exploding in your vision. Cassian's pace did not slow down, riding you through your orgasm. At the feeling of you cumming around his cock, Cassian knew his release would follow suit.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he growled.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close. "Cum inside me."
Your words pushed him over the edge. His pace finally halted as he stilled, spilling himself inside you just as you had asked. 
For a few moments afterwards, the two of you remained still, chests heaving as you caught your breath. Slowly, Cassian pulled out of you, some of his cum leaking out.
With two fingers, he gathered up the leaking cum and pushed it back inside your pussy. "Since you asked for it," he said with a smirk.
Instead of leaving, like you thought he would, he laid down next to you, still catching his breath. You knew from the look on his face that he was not done with you yet.
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senseichaos · 7 months
Text
VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL
Tumblr media
I'm crazy, but so are you,
I'm crazy, but you are too
Summary: Alastor surprises you with a Valentine's gift, causing you both to find out things about each other that would bring you closer than ever before
Genre: Romance, Angst
Warnings: Sexual themes, Angst, hurt slight comfort, psychopathic Alastor, implied sadism, self deprecation, talk of murder, let me know if you see any more!
NOT PROOF READ (YET)
Let me know your thoughts!
(tried to do my iconic 3 image banner but tumblr's formatting broke so it didn't work..)
"My fawn, I have a surprise for you!"
You look up from your book, face lighting up as you place the book onto the couch next to you. Currently you were just reading a book in the hotel lobby, mostly alone in the area save for husk cleaning the bar as usual. Niffty is currently fixing some windows that had been broken, Sir Pentious is in his room doing god knows what, Vaggie and Charlie are out getting dinner, and Angel is at work. Which leaves you.
"Hm? Really?!" You ask, not expecting a gesture from Alastor on Valentine's day. Alastor grins, reaching his hand out for you to take which you do politely. In an unexpected movement Alastor pulls you lightly so you come close to him, placing a hand onto the small of your back as he gives you a proud gaze.
"Yes my fawn, it's valentines day is it not? Come,"
Alastor leads you up the stairs, taking you to his room one one of the higher floors of the hotel. This is all a surprise to you, really. You'd never expected Alastor to get you something for Valentine's! Let alone a surprise. You can't hold that excitement inside of you at the fact that Alastor is going to surprise you with something! You practically buzz with excitement when Alastor leads you down the hall, looking up at him as you fiddle with the side of his overcoat.
"What is it, what is it!!" You ask with excitement, bouncing on your feet as Alastor settles in front of the door to his room, not yet opening it. Alastor laughs, adjusting his monocle and shaking his head.
"Patience, dear! Have I taught you nothing?" He utters with a grin, fixing his coat after you had meddled with it.
"I'm allowed to be excited Alastor!" You pout, folding your arms as Alastor rests his hand against the wall. He gives you a humorous gaze, laughing at your words with a grin.
"You are, fawn. But there is a difference between patience and greed~" He purrs, pressing hks microphone to your chin, tilting it up a tad; scowling at this action, you grab the top of his microphone and push it back to his chest. Alastor's lower lids rise.
"I am not greedy! You've never surprised me before..." You frown, looking at the ground beneath you. It wasn't wrong, at least you don't think. Alastor has never really given you a huge surprise like this before.
Alastor takes a step forward, hooking his finger beneath the leather of your collar.
"Now that is a lie. I surprised you just last week with this beautiful collar," Alastor speaks, pulling his finger away from your neck, dragging his claw down the column of your throat as he goes. You can't help but lean into that brief touch, flicking your eyes back into his as he stares at you with an odd adoration.
"I guess that's true.." You mutter, itching the side of your neck as you take your eyes from his own again. You instead look at the wall, focusing on the deteriorating wallpaper. Though you feel Alastor's claw press against your jaw, tilting your face back towards his own
"You guess? But it is true, my dear. I think you forget that I love you just as you love me," He says lowly, leaning in closer to your own smaller, meeker figure. You can't help but shrink backwards, feeling that odd fear buzz through your cold sinner veins.
"Do you really?" You ask, eyes blown as you stare. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and pulling away, leaving your skin burning on the area he kissed. Alastor quickly and deftly places his fingers onto the the doornob, twisting it with a neat skill. The skill of a man with property, you could describe.
"Hm, does this prove my point?" Alastor asks, pushing you into the room by the tip of his microphone staff.
You gasp, looking at the room. His room has a nice, neatly set table in the middle of his forest backdrop, which has cups of coffee and crumpets on it, along with some of your favorite sweet treats that make you drool to even look at. There's even a beautiful bouquet of dried roses set in the middle just near the edge of the table, meaning you can see Alastor completely when you eat.
"Oh my gosh! Alastor, this is.." You clasp your hands over your mouth, tears welling up in your vision as your heart swells from the pure kindness of the action. You watch as Alastor waltzes in front of you, prideful of his actions.
"And you say I don't know you.. I have your favorite music, your favorite food, your favorite drinks anddd" Alastor outstretched his hand, standing in front of the table completely with that grin of his that makes you melt. "Your favorite radio demon~!" He sing songs, causing you to laugh, running up to him and hugging yourself into his arms.
Though often you don't hug Alastor, but it's in these moments where he welcomes it that you value. He always hugs you warmly, as if his whole body is enveloping you in a swaddle. You feel small in his arms, almost like a baby.
You nuzzle yourself into his chest mumbling:
"Oh thank you Alastor this is so.. thoughtful. I didn't think you were capable of such a thing," You giggle, looking up at him with teary eyes as those butterflies swarm inside of you. That way he looks at you is so soft, before he laughs, tangling his fingers into your hair and pulling very lightly.
"Now don't ruin the moment, my fawn. It impolite," Alastor chastises, giving you that sadistic look that makes you fall to your knees and take what's given. Those dark eyes, that tight grip, that sharp smile, those piercing teeth. You bite your lower lip, laughing with a flustered blush as you push his hand away.
"Sorry Al' I just.. this is incredible! I'm so excited! I can hardly hold in my squeals," You squeak, jumping very slightly on your toes. Chuckling, Alastor folds his hands behind his back, though not before resting his staff at the side of the table. "Squeal all you want, my dear! You make a lot of noise anyway," He says with a lascivious smirk, leaning down to your level just to get a good look of your scowl and humor it as he feels necessary.
"Ew Alastor! I don't wanna squeal anymore.. but- EEEEEEE!" You squeal, flapping your arms with joy as Alastor sits himself down at the table. What you don't expect is for Alastors green magic to circle around your waist, effectively picking you up and placing you on your chair. He ignores your frightened squeak and flinch at this, instead leaning forward and resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.
"C'mon my dear, the coffee should be the perfect temperature!" He utters, nodding his head towards the cup of coffee at your side of the table. You nod, taking a small sip of the sweet coffee. Sweet? That's new. Alastor doesn't like sweet things.. which makes it all more surprising that he's given you sweet things.
"Oh actually! It's not huge but i did get you something," You interrupt your thought, remembering the Valentine's gift you had found on the streets of hell weeks ago. Alastor smiles wider, not expecting you to get him something in return. He feels gratitude that you did, though, not often does he get gifts.
"Hm? You did? How sweet of you, my fawn!" Alastor asks brightly, watching as you twist your body to grab something from your back pocket. What he doesn't expect is for you to pull out a light gray feather, a very slight shimmer against its surface. It almost looks like the feather of an angel with it's heavenly sheen.
"I found it on the street a couple weeks ago whilst on my outing, it's an exorcist feather!" You exclaim, passing it towards him with a proud smile. Taking it in his fingers, he examined it with a soft but peaceful smile, taking in every piece of it before smiling brighter.
"Ooh~ now this is a thoughtful gift!" He says, opening his mouth and placing it into his mouth, tasting it. He slowly drags it out, trailing his tongue around its entirety to taste every part of it. You give him a disgusted look, peering at him through your lashes before pulling it from him. Or at least attempting to, he pulls it away before you have a chance to reach it.
"Ew Alastor don't taste it! You don't know where that's been!" You scold, taking another sio of your coffee. Alastor holds it in his hand, tasting a little bit more of it by placing his red tongue against it kn random spots. You give him an exaggerated gag, causing him to finally pull it away with upturned, happy eyes.
"It's tasty, dear! Is that not part of the gift? A beautiful feather of an angel and the tasty remnants of death! I can't think of anything more delicious~" He pauses, lowering his lids seductively. "Besides from my fawn, of course.." He purrs, causing you to flush before swatting his hands.
"Alastor! That's gross...!" You exclaim, taking an aggressive bite from your (extremely delicious) crumpet. You almost forget that you're supposed to be mad before Alastor's condescending laugh rings in your ears, causing you to look back up at him with down turned brows.
"Oh come on dear, I know you just love it when I'm dirty!" Alastor says with a teasing gaze, before leaning forward and attempting to kiss you. You quickly move your head away, causing him to give you a short peck on the corner of your lips. When he pulls away, he seems proud, almost greedy with his affection.
"You just tasted an exorcist feather and you think I want you to kiss me with the same mouth, ew!" Alastor hums at your words, tilting his head.
"I guess you just don't like the flavour the same way as me," He says, taking a sip of his black coffee. Alastor can't stand sweetness, that's for sure. But it does still surprise you that he has a crumpet and a slice of your favorite cake Infront of him.
"Okay fine.." You sigh, leaning forward to invite Alastor into a kiss. He grins, clasping his hand onto your cheek and leaning forward, purring: "Lovely!"
Finally he presses his lips onto yours, quite literally immediately forcing his tongue past your lips. You moan surprised at this, gagging as he presses his tongue to the back of your throat - definitely on purpose - though you don't pull away. Alastor doesn't kiss you often, and that's a fact. So this moment, despite being uncomfortable with his sadistic ways is still powerful and makes your gut rearrange. The way he digs his claws into the back of your neck, twisting your head slightly so he can kiss you deeper, effectively taking away your breath. But you don't care if he suffocates you. You don't care if he kills you. Right now all you want is for him to continue massaging his lips against your own.
Or that was until he finally pulled away, licking a stray piece of saliva from his lip. You finally snap from your daze, flushing deeply and wiping your wet lips.
"Are you done?" You ask, taking a short sip of your coffee in an attempt to calm your fiery veins down. Alastor chuckles, taking a bite from his crumpet and only slightly flinching from the sweet flavour.
"Yes my dear, a kiss cannot last forever." He says, leaning his head against the back of his hand. Nodding, you bite your lower lip, finding something to say to take your mind from that intense kiss.
"So what are you gonna do with the feather?" You ask rather abruptly, chanting the subject with a swift execution of words. Alastor could detect as such, but he choses not to point it out to save your dignity. Instead he nods, twirling the feather between his fingers before speaking.
"Hmm, I will most likely place it at my bedside." He pauses, grinning and looking back up at you. "What do you plan to do with these hours of fun with yours truly? He asks, taking a neat sip from his black coffee. You can't understand how he drinks the stuff, being so strong and bitter. You can only have it sweet.
"I just want to talk with you, Al'. I don't remember the last time we just got to sit and.." Your words slowly jumble off into nothing's, realizing that you're rambling. Though when you look up into Alastor's eyes he doesn't seem annoyed, hell he even looks as though he's hanging off your every word with deep enjoyment. "Talk." You finish, pointed with your words as they drip from your tongue.
"Really, because I recall sitting down and having tea just last week," Alastor recalls, tapping his chin in mock-thought. You shake your head, taking a long sip from your coffee. "No I mean, I don't remember the last time we did something just for us. Just a moment where it's- just unbridled conversation between lovers for hours.." You utter, twiddling your fingers together as a pang of anxiety hits your gut. You swallow it down, not wishing to show your anxiety to your partner.
"Hm, I guess you are correct with one thing. We haven't done anything just for us in a while," Alastor answers, shrugging his shoulders as he looks down at the food in front of him. He seems content, cozy even. You don't often see him at such peace.. and you want him to be at such peace more often- hell you want to be at such peace more often.
"Doesn't it make you sad.. sad that we don't just have time for us?" You ask rather suddenly, looking up at him as he places his feather into his coat pocket. He lowers his lids, tilting his head softly as he speaks with a buttery tone: "Whatever do you mean?" Alastor asks, leaning his cheek on the back of his hand dreamily.
You sigh. "I mean.. doesn't it make you wish we could just be together for hours.. spend a whole day, even! Just us, laying in bed.. dancing to music, having tea.. cooking! Anything.. I just want to feel more connected to you sometimes.." You utter with a soft-spoken tone. Alastor almost seems sympathetic, hell empathetic for a moment. But he isn't, you can tell... But even still he leans forward, that smile across his face as he speaks with such an odd tone.
"Now now, dear. If you wanted a day like this why didn't you just say? Why leave it to the time we are supposed to be laughing and having fun?" Alastor asks, shaking his head softly as he moves his hands as to accentuate his words. You shrink into yourself in realization that all this time you felt a lack of deep connection with him you could have.. told him.
"I-I don't know I guess I just.. I only realize how much I need time like that now, when I have it.." You mumble, rubbing your palm across your eye before picking up the thin fork next to your sweet cake, wishing to take a bite to make you feel less sad. Though Alastor just smiles wider, giving you a soft look with his red intimidating eyes.
"Now why worry about the future when you have what you want right now? I promise you that spending time in the now will make this much more productive and enjoyable," Alastor says with such power, pulling at your strings to make your emotions mold to what he wishes. Though he isn't wrong, even with that later of manipulation with his tone. It is best to let this moment happen without worrying about the future.
"I guess you're right, Alastor." You finally say after a pregnant pause. Alastor chuckles to himself, watching as you take a joyful bite of your cake. After tasting it's sweet flavour you practically buzz with happiness, squeaking to yourself. "Thank you, my fawn."
You finish your happy 'squeeming', laughing softly at Alastor's words. "It wasn't really a compliment, but take it how you will." You say with a shrug, diving into another forkful of the delicious cake.
"You know," Alastor says suddenly, a grin churning on his face. You look up from your cake from big eyes, swallowing your mouthful of cake.
"Hm?"
"I recall this memory from my childhood sometimes when I'm with you, this memory from my childhood that is more pleasant than any other," Alastor begins, looking up at the sky-like roof above in thought and rumination as he speaks. Yet you hang into every word, leaning forward in your chair with such infatuation; You wish you were nestled in your lap to take in every huff of his breath as he tells his story.
"I was sitting beneath this tree reading a book my school had demanded me to read, for a project of some sorts. But the book was actually rather interesting! It spoke of love and loss, and it gave me this odd comfort," Alastor tells, Almost painting a picture with his hands as he describes the story to you. He moves his hands with every word that he annunciates, making everything he says seem even more rich and delightful for your brain as he goes on.
"It was like it was telling me that no matter what I do in my life, one day I will get this feeling again. And now, well now when I'm with you I get that odd feeling of comfort." He finishes, folding his hands in his lap as he watches your dumbfounded expression. He can't help but smirk.
"Alastor.. that's the most you've ever told me about your life on earth." You say with such a grin, kicking your legs in your chair with cheer. Alastor taps his pointer finger against his chin in a thinking moment before shrugging, giving you a sly smile. "Yes, I suppose it is, isn't it?" He asks, those buttery eyes of his low lidded. You bite your lower lip, poking your fork into your cake.
"You aren't lying are you? Please tell me this isn't a joke.." You beg, taking a piece from the cake with your dainty fork. You don't eat it, though, instead holding it at the end of the fork as you speak. "Why would I joke to my love about something like this?" Alastor asks, watching your body as your heart sits tremulous inside of your chest.
You look at the ground "I don't know, this whole thing it just doesn't feel real to me. And this- this childhood memory of yours.. I feel like I'm going to explode with happiness." You finish your sentence with a large almost painful grin, before dropping it down into a rather small smile. Alastor hums, poking his dainty fork into a piece of his own cake.
"Is that not good, my dear?" Alastor asks before taking a bite of the sickeningly sweet cake, he does make a bit of a face and the flavour, but he eats it all the same. You value that in this moment. Not often does he do something that actively makes him uncomfortable for you, so you feel as though he's sacrificing his life right now. You can't help but think of him as sweet for a small moment.
"It is! it's just.. this is the first I've ever heard of your past," You reply, drawing circles on the table with your hand as the other continuing to hold your fork with the piece of cake at the end. Once again you hear Alastor hum in acknowledgement, watching as he gives you a large unreadable grin.
"Would you like to know more about my past, my dear?"
You blink, biting your lower lip as your heart clenches beneath your rib cage.
"Please," You utter with glassy eyes, set on taking in every second of his story. Alastor replies to your enthusiasm with a chuckle, placing his fork down and clasping his hands together as he leans back onto his chair. He begins to speak, a whimsical propriety in his voice.
"Hm, alright then. You do have to understand that my life on earth may not be the most pleasant of lives," Alastor warns, tapping his foot against the grass beneath absentmindedly. You shake your head, dead set on hearing something more about his life as a person."I don't care."
He grins widely, eyes creasing with its largeness."Lovely, now," He begins, talking with such pride you can't help but sink into every word. "I remember this time, I was I think around my early twenties when I killed my first victim-" You interrupt with wide eyes and a tap of your finger against the table.
"Woah woah woah, why are you staring out with this?" You ask. You completely didn't expect Alastor to start out with his murder. You know that he was a cereal killer as a man, that is for sure- but you didn't expect him to tell you about it.
"Listen my dear, it's impolite to interrupt." Alastor chastises, brows high and nonchalant. You bite your lip, shrinking backwards into your seat. "Sorry Allie."
Alastor's smile grows. "Hm. I had killed this victim in the dead of night, it was an act of self defense I do admit. But, that feeling I got was like no other when his lifeless body laid dormant at my feet," Alastor describes, picking up his staff that he laid at the side of the table. Looking at the staff, Alastor drags his hand against its handle, his eyes dark and reminiscent, almost longing.
"I had this system after that. I would kill one person, eat them, and bury their bones in the forest behind my house. I was very good at giving no trace of myself, to the point where my killing became news that I had to cover on my radio show! How comical is that, hm?" Alastor suddenly perks up, laughing to himself as he finishes talking. He takes a sip of his coffee, one hand places against his staff as he watches you laugh awkwardly.
"I mean you are killing people, so not extremely comical." Alastor laughs again at this, swatting his hand in your direction. You finally take a bite of the cake on your fork, eyes pointed at Alastor as you do so in a judging fashion.
"Oh don't worry about that my dear, I promise if you were alive in my time I wouldn't have killed you. You most likely would have become my wife," His voice lowers as he speaks becoming flirtatious with his tone. At his words anxiety pools at your stomach, causing your skin to ripple into goosebumps; And yet you can't help but crave for more.
"In my life on earth I wouldn't have dated a cereal killer.. " You mumble, looking at the grass below as the goosebumps on your skin begin to fade with that fleeting adrenaline filling fear. But when you look back into those eyes of his, it comes back with a harsh waft. Those dark eyes, they send you into a trance.
"Well what are you doing now then?" He asks, leaning forward on the table with a sly gaze.
"..dating a cereal killer..." You utter guiltily. Alastor reaches across the table, planting his and against yours intimately. You feel tiny electric shocks of love go through you there, making you smile at his clawed fingers as they lay against your wrist. "Exactly, my fawn. Don't assume things about yourself, especially when it is just plain wrong. What have I done to hurt you?" You laugh at this, pulling down the collar of your shirt to reveal a healed bite mark across your shoulder.
"Exhibit A." You announce with a grin.
"Well that was during sex, darling. I wouldn't count that. And also you liked it," Alastor responds, taking your hand into his own. You shiver, feeling his claws draw a line from the bottom of your wrist to the middle of your palm. "Mhm.. touche! It still hurt.. and felt good.." Your words slowly jumble off into nothing, realizing that Alastor, in fact, has never really hurt you.
"Well then I didn't hurt you did I? I promise you I would never go out of my way to hurt you in a way you wouldn't enjoy," Alastor assures, tapping his claws against the bottom of your wrist as he grins.
"I love you, Alastor. I also really appreciate this cause I know you don't like sweet food but you're still eating this with me." Alastor chuckles, leaning over the table to ruffle your hair in a condescending way.
"Anything for my little fawn, hm? Anything I can do to make you smile is mine to give." Alastor says, pointed with his words. There is a confidence to his words, as well. Not that there isn't always but specifically when he said smile. He wants you to smile, and yet he loves to make you scream his name and cry out for him.
He wants to break you. And you let him.
"Can I tell you something about my past?" You ask, looking up as him with teary eyes. Alastor nods, taking another bite of his (now finished) crumpet. "Of course, I'm a very good listener." He replies after swallowing, blinking at you with an extraordinarily endearing gaze. You have to stop yourself from getting flustered.
"I know.." You mumble, fiddling with the sleeves of your coat. Watching with dark eyes, Alastor crosses one leg over the other in his chair, ears perking up at the silence. Sighing, you ready yourself to speak, biting your lower lip before just letting the words flow.
"I never liked anyone my whole life on earth, I mean.. I died early, I know that but still I have never felt any attraction to anyone. Anyone ever." The words come out anxious and almost scared, matching the way your hands shake in a tremulous way. And yet Alastor makes you feel better by laughing, humming at words.
"Ever? How odd, me neither!"
Your eyes widen. Never really asking anything about Alastor, you don't know why you are surprised. You often worry that you annoy him if you ask too many questions, so you guess this is your sign to ask him more.
"What, really?" You gasp, clasping your hands together as you lean towards him with attraction. Alastor just hums in affirmation, taking another reluctant bite from his cake. You think to yourself for a moment, before shaking your head and continuing.
"Well.. anyway. The only feeling I ever got towards anything was this idea of.. being with someone like you. And I know that's crazy, that I would feel attraction to the idea of dating a psycho but the label fit. I'd never changed, even into my 20s when I died I never felt attracted to anything but this personification in my head," You start, flushing deeply as you talk. You don't dare look into Alastor's eyes, too scared to see his reaction to your words. Whilst continuing to speak, however, you find that you don't feel any sort of distaste from his frame. "And I have to admit, that you are the embodiment of the personification in my head to a degree I can't even begin to explain."
Silence flourishes the air for a thin moment, making your throat clog up with regret. And yet to your surprise, you feel one of Alastors claws press at your chin, tilting your head to look at him.
"Why do you tell me this now, dear?" Alastor asks, looking into your teary eyes with an unreadably soft gaze. Your gaze shifts away from him and you bite the inside of your cheek, kicking your legs nervously beneath the table."Because I think that I completely understand why," You mutter, tone strangled as his claw begins to press slightly harder into your skin.
"Why is it, my dear?"
You sob, pulling backwards from his hand so you can shrink into yourself.
"Because I'm crazy! I just know it. All of this, this thing we have- it's all part of my delusional self. I can't love anyone unless I have this feeling like I'm in danger. I need to be on edge to be comfortable and feel this feeling I feel right now.." You cry, breathing beginning to become choked and ugly. Staying silent for a second, you take awful whiny breaths in, calming yourself. Not once do you look up at Alastor.
"I hate myself Alastor.." You utter out, another heap of tears dripping down your cheeks. To your surprise, Alastor is next to you in a flash, gripping your cheeks and making you look up at him. His smile is wide and sadistic and yet his eyes are soft and pseudo-empathetic."Now now my dear, do I look like I'm judging you? I'm crazy as well. We are both just psychopaths with a twisted idea of love." He assures, claws digging into you very slightly as he pulls on your cheeks, forcing you to smile.
"How so..?" You sniffle, pulling his hand from your cheeks. Yet instead Alastor just grips the back of your neck, ensuring that your eyes are on him at all times. He needs your full attention. "I like the idea of pulling on someone's strings and controlling them to submit to my every desire. You like the idea of being controlled and that thrill you get from the danger of it all." He says lowly, voice flowing into your ears with such tremor you can't help but stare at him with an adoration.
"Are you saying we're the same? Because I would never kill anyone.." You say softly, blinking at him. Alastor chuckles, shaking his head at your words. He almost tuts them, really, his chuckle being almost mocking in a way that you can't understand. You can never understand him, never completely. And perhaps that's the way he likes it.
"No no no, my dear. I'm saying that you and I fit perfectly into each other's idea of love. We are similar in those parts of ourselves, and that's what makes us fit so well together, hm?"
Your breath catches in your throat. He's right. He's so right. You are both broken souls that bring out the best you can out of eachother. Nothing will ever be normal with him, and nothing will ever be normal with you. And yet.. and yet your heart beats at such a fast pace you fear your adrenaline will spike through your skin.
"I guess this makes sense.." Is all you say, breathless with your words.
Alastor hums, trailing his hand from the back of your neck down your chest, until it reaches your hand. Pulling you by your hand to your feet, he brings you into a warm addicting hug. You moan into his embrace, shivering with goosebumps as his breath tickles against your ear.
"so do you really love me, really really?" You ask, teary eyed and tired.
"I really, really love you my dear. I'd kill every sinner in hell to keep you." There's a sinister tone to his words, and even yet you value them more than you can admit.
"That means a lot to me , Alastor."
"I'm glad, my fawn."
At peace, for now at least.
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l-in-the-light · 1 month
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Luffy's and Law's similarities
Because people always talk only about their differences, time to do the uno reverse! You might be surprised how many there are, actually.
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Snapping at exactly same thing.
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Snapping at same stuff again, because sometimes they share exactly the same brain cell. Even their face expressions are exactly the same in both examples lol.
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Whenever Law actually loosens his guard, he reacts in exact same ways as Luffy does.
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They both have a very similar experience with their mentors sacrificing themselves for them and same selfblaming reaction. This serves mostly as a prologue because we will compare how child Law and child Luffy behaved.
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Both were reckless brats with very wrong self-harming ideas to get what they want.
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They hate "dirty tricks" and being lied to. And easily lash out.
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Their initial reaction to making fun of someone tripping/being pushed on the floor or making fun of anyone. Also standing there in exact same pose with their fists clenched.
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"I will go find a real role model", same vibes here honestly.
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"You will pay for this" mentality. They were also both literally thrown which endagered their lives and they both can't believe it's actually happening, that anyone would do something like that. Also bonus points for swearing child Luffy haha.
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Both consider some people to be just total scums that deserve punching. Bad guys should be taught a lesson. Law at least managed to land a stab, so 1:0 for him.
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This is intriguing. This is the last time Law asks someone for help. And last time Luffy asks someone to help him. Both seem to be convinced "asking for help" caused their loved ones to get hurt, so you will never hear them do it again. The only difference here is Law is asking to help Corazon, while Luffy is the one who needs the help.
Later on Luffy is taught to ask for help by Vivi in Drum Kingdom, but he isn't asking for himself, but to help Nami. Meanwhile Law never again uses the polite words. The most he is capable of is to ask Cavendish "tanomu" which is more like "I'm counting on you".
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Both sit in same pose whenever Law isn't trying to impersonate Corazon's style (yes, Law mimicks Cora a lot, also in the way he walks). At least once he slipped and sat in the way he found naturally comfortable instead and it was exactly same way as Luffy's preferred sitting position. What a curious coincidence.
Another funny thing about them is that they both like to wear exactly same type of shoes they used to wear as a child, Luffy the sandals, and Law his dark boots. It's not really that common thing in the manga, for example, Nami and Zoro didn't stick to same type of shoes they used to wear when they were kids.
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They also sleep in exactly same position, the infamous T-pose. For comparison, the rest of the Strawhats all have their own different sleeping positions (first from the right is Usopp ofc lol).
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They also match each other's pace pretty well. "Let's go, Torao!" and "Ike!" as Law's answer which literally means just "Go!", because Traffy is ready too, no need to stall back.
And finally my favourite:
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If Law wasn't under Corazon's "calm" spell, would his laugh sound familiar? Perhaps would it be "shishishi" we know so well? Of course that's the last time Law laughs like that, so we can't compare him laughing when he's an adult. Families in One Piece often share similar laughs, it seems. Unless you're a devil fruit user, that also changes your laughter apparently hm.
There's probably even more similarities between their behaviour, thinking patterns and expressions than I managed to find. I find it suspicious considering those two did not grow up together, so why are they so similar when they're both children?
I dunno if whole D. clan is an actual family, but I think Law and Luffy definitely had a shared ancestor and probably not that far in the past. Very curious since they're from East Blue and North Blue, the two seas mentioned to be the hardest to travel from one another.
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Many people speculated Dragon isn't related to Garp or Luffy because they don't really look that much alike, but if you compare Monkey, Trafalgar and Gol family members together you can start to see some pattern emerging: they all have naturally black ruffled hair Potter-family style (you're welcome for that comparison you never wanted to notice and now you can't unsee haha). I wonder if Joyboy will also be revealed of sporting similar style of hair.
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castiwls · 8 months
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"whatever you do, your still my brother"
being the winchesters little sister...
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You would probably be the product of a one-night stand. Your mum managed to track John down once you were born and just kinda left you outside the motel.
Dean came out to see a baby and freaked. (Thought you were his for a moment lmao)
John was shocked (and not too happy) when he came back to find both Sam and Dean fussing over a baby. Turns out your mum had left a note and all three of them were shocked. (Dean was slightly relieved)
You were like 4 ish when Sam left for Standford so you didn't really understand why your brother disappeared.
John was an ok dad but he wasn't really present.
Dean mostly raised you. Because of this, you are both really close (when Sam left he kinda latched onto you)
Not understanding when John went missing.
Being very excited when Dean told you that you were going to see Sammy. Practically throwing yourself at your brother when you were in his apartment. 
Him being slightly surprised you remembered him after two years.
They didn't really tell you about anything hunting-related till you were older. They wanted you to have some semblance of a childhood
When John died you were upset but not distraught. You didn’t really know him.
As you got older Dean slowly taught you self-defense and how to handle a gun (they still kept the hunting thing quiet.
Meeting Cas and asking him every question you could think of. He thought it was endearing (he answered them all)
Sam helped with ‘schooling’ 
Reading LOADS while being on the road 
(Sometimes you and Sam would stay up late and talk about books.)
Dean showing you all his favourite movies (He claimed you needed a ‘proper education’)
Him teaching you to drive in the Impala. (he spent the whole time internally freaking out)
They are both VERY overprotective
Having movie nights at least once a week (you all rotate on who picks)
You used to do game nights but things got a bit heated (Dean’s a sore loser)
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caraphernellie · 25 days
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SLOW HANDS. EIGHTEEN PLUS INTERACTIONS ONLY.
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so in this drabble, i mentioned having a draft about a reader with an oral fixation and always wanting to suck on ellie's fingers. here is the aforementioned draft, mostly self indulgent because i just really want ellie's fingies in my mouth and also this is straight up more yappery about her hands and how much i love them (bordering on hand kink atp) than anything oral fixation related (but that's included, don't worry)– just using this as a thought space to get myself into the writing mood, and i'm not the proudest of it based on the writing style but thought i'd post it anyway.
ellie's hands are a true blessing, are they not? calloused and rough from years of guitar, a testament to the bond she has with loved ones (of course joel, who taught her to play) but perhaps also from the determination to perfect her art. hours spent journaling and detailing every moment of her day like a sweetheart, keeping tabs on things and always taking time to keep herself grounded. she'll sketch things throughout her days, drawing everyday from the pettiest of pretty landscapes to her most beloved people, all in the name of improving and documenting her journey through life. 
ellie is quite an awkward person in general, at least that's an observation i've made overtime – i don't mean her personality with this, although that's certainly true as well! i mean physically. she's not so coordinated. she's not precise. she's always stumbling or falling around the place, she's got that gay ass gait, and she takes less time thinking, always acting without it. 
but i think even despite her being a little challenged in a coordinational sense, and how she's rather lanky, it doesn't mean she isn't practised. moving away from a modern au for a second– think about living in the apocalypse. how she's grown so used to defending herself, handling heavy weaponry. her hands will move deftly to fire, reload, and protect herself, every action memorised after years. and moving a little more towards a modern au once again, although ellie does have a ps3 in canon, how she'd be so good at gaming. nerd activities are right up ellie's alley and of course gaming has to be up there too– her hands have a wide breadth and her fingers are nimble and long, she'd probably be really good with that advantage.
so, all this to say, it'd be hard not to be so distracted if you were dating ellie williams. especially watching her work on any of the many rather attractive passions of hers – her music, her art, or, well, gaming. large hands veiny and rough, perhaps smoothing out a page in her journal, retuning her guitar, or fumbling with a controller. and yet, all you can focus on is the capability of them, lost in memories that live in your head of the way she warmly grabs at your body or how it feels when her fingers are buried deep inside you, soaked in slick and rubbing at the walls that squeeze around them.
and it really could just be a comforting thing for you, getting to sit, observe, and take in every detail of your girl while she's right there next to you. and really, it's something she's noticed. it was nothing unexpected. it was just so cute to ellie how if she'd let you get a hold of them, you'd pepper little kisses along her wrist, up the back of her hand and onto her knuckles. she'd sit with rosy cheeks and watch you, rub her thumb along the curve of your lip gently before replacing it with her own lips.
what she never really expected was how far your fixation goes. she'd had a habit of sometimes liking to lick her fingers before or after touching you, a sight that of course made you squirm, but in some way, you started to get jealous of ellie.
before ellie could even try, you'd already grabbed her by the wrist and taken two long fingers between your lips, sighing almost in relief. best believe it shocked ellie at first, but she couldn't keep her eyes off of you, nor the way it clearly turned you on so much more than usual to suck her fingers into your mouth. 
staring down at how your cunt took her so easily after, she whispered dirty words in utter shock. "fuck, baby, just swallowin' my fingers, aren't you?" 
after that day, no longer was ellie able to indulge in the taste of your pussy on her fingers. it was commonplace for to let you lick her hands clean, and she'd started taking advantage of your fixation in other ways, too. too loud? she'll wrap her free arm around you and shove her fingers into your mouth to silence you while her other hand is between your thighs. she'll relish in the sweet humming muffled by her digits, looking into your sleepy, pleased eyes.
it starts manifesting in different ways, less heated and amorous situations, instead quiet and calm times. wrapped up in blankets together on the couch one evening, ellie so casually rubs her forefinger over your lips to play with you; teasing you with the closeness whilst pretending to be engrossed in the movie playing on screen. her thumb tugs gently at your lower lip, pulling the soft skin down before slipping into the wet warmth of your mouth. 
it's not like you were paying attention to the movie anyway, but it's much harder to look now – as if taking silent instruction, you close your eyes and slowly run your tongue along her skin. you fall victim to the sudden heat radiating the couch, holding her wrist close with three fingers in your mouth and a wet patch growing into your pyjama shorts.
photomode creds to @/stcreeka and @/T1OU_ on pinterest!!
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ofc-vi-writes-too · 2 months
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so all ive been able to think about is gotham for the past several days, and more specifically how gothamite culture has to be SO drastically different and jarring to literally anywhere else in the world. Like even other super cities like metropolis, or central city, or wherever else are at least KINDA normal. Like yea u have superman or wonderwoman or the flash but they dont really have to deal with the same level of bs as Gotham.
That being said here are a list of things that I think are extremely normal to Gotham, and other things that happen in thay horrible little city:
• the episode of Hot Ones with Brucie Wayne where no one thinks he’ll even be able to stand the 2nd or 3rd wing but he eats all of them with no reaction, and Sean Evans (or the in universe equivalent) just sits there like “wow no one has ever had literally no reaction before this is really crazy, and Bruce Wayne of all people?” Afterwards Bruce has second thoughts and realizes that maybe he should have played up his reaction to the spice a bit more. People Inside of Gotham are a little shocked because everytime he eats in public it is the most boring, bland, flavorless food imaginable. (he handled the spice so well because Batman is ready for all potential threats and forms of torture. Ridiculous levels of spice included)
• Gotham schools offer courses in self defense. In some school districts its actually mandatory, thats usually in old gotham or downtown gotham. In more affluent areas, self defense is still taught in schools, but most kids are sent to some ritzy trainer to make sure they can defend themselves.
• No one even blinks when theres a new vigilante by the time Damian comes around. Theres still a little buzz but by the time Duke shows up, people are like “Oh cool another one. HEY BRO WHATS YOUR NAME.” I saw someone post here about how when the Wayne kids get mad at Bruce, they go to Selina and make public appearances as Stray, Catwomans sidekick. I personally believe that Tim was the first one to do it but Dick does it the most, and gothamites didnt even need to get used to Stray showing up sometimes, nor did people really care that Stray was always wildly different heights, shapes, colors, etc. the additude is kinda like “I have taxes and job security to worry about. If a new vigilante is what were doing then so be it.”
• People tend to think that Gothamites aren’t smart, but that city is home to the Richest, smartest, most creative people alive. They mostly just lack morals. Like Dr. Freeze, Harley Quinn, hell even The Riddler are all insanely intelligent. Half of Gothams Villains have at minimum 2 Doctorates in something or other. Gotham generates a lot of cash as a whole, and small businesses thrive there. They have high employment rates, and most citizens have their associates despite everything happening around them. People who have never been to Gotham before expect to have to talk down to the citizens but Gothamites just kinda roll their eyes at them and carry on about their merriment.
• Gothamites CONSTANTLY says “because I’m Batman” when they don’t want to explain themselves. Kids hear it a lot from parents and they also get “If you don’t go to sleep, Condiment Man i gonna come and cover you in stinky relish.” Because truly what else is condiment man good for.
• Gothamites who work at BatBurger and typically work the night shift are used to visits from Batman, Robin, Red Hood, Cat Woman, Harley Quinn, etc. Sometimes they remember the workers and ask about their family, and how life is, and other things like that. Theres some barely 18 y/o who just graduated high school who worls at Bat Burger, and asked Red Hood to help him impress his gf by saying theyre friends. He like fuck it why not and tells the gf that the kid helped him save an old lady’s cat in a tree and now theyre bffs. She totally believes it. Score.
• I see the Gotham thinks Batman is Bruce Wayne’s boyfriend theories and raise you: Its pretty common knowledge that Bruce Wayne is Batman, just no one has the heart to tell him. Also theyre scared he will quit if anyone brings it up. So from this Gothamites created the joke that BW and batman are dating and when asked about it in an interview, dick grayson is like “……yes! My adoptive father is dating the guy who dressed up like a bat every night…!”
• this cuased and arguement between Bruce and Dick because no! Bruce isnt dating Batman! (stray was seen again that week) HE IS BATMAN! But fuck now the public thinks theyre a couple so now bruce gets asked about it and hes like “haha yes my spooky bat bf is who i love very dearly!” As punishment He makes Dick bring him flowers in the batsuit because “as far as he is concerned, this is his shithead son’s fault.” Thats a direct quote btw. Little does he know this somehow ties back to Tim Drake before they met.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bratty!Fem!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Tired of your antics regarding how cavalier you take your sexual relationship, your lieutenant cuts you off and that has you immediately plotting. You know you can get him to break and all it'll take is one purchase. How can he keep his resolve when he sees what you've bought? And how will he act when he catches you?
Word Count: 6.8 k
Warnings:
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The office is silent now except for the distant sounds of movement filtering in from outside the door of people coming and going through the building. Your shirt clings in a rumpled mess to your body, sweat speckling across your limbs from that specific heat that gets shared between two bodies, euphoria still running through your veins when the man sitting beneath you speaks. “We’re not doin’ this again, so get that straight. Understand?”
You tilt your head to the side and raise a curious eyebrow, staring back into the face of your lieutenant as he gets you to your feet and grabs his shirt to throw it back over his head, covering his sweat-glistening torso. “Care to explain what you’re talking about or am I meant to just guess?” you ask with snark in your tone as you pick up the rest of your clothing off the floor.
Buttoning his pants and re-buckling his belt, he takes his time before answering as you finish and stand there impatient and agitated. “What the fuck did I say about startin’ stuff with me when I’m busy?” Lt. Riley questions back, his voice harsh. “Did ya think I was jokin’ or are ya just hell bent on gettin’ caught? Cause that’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen if ya keep temptin’ me in the middle of the day.”
“You could turn me away,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “ever heard of self-control?”
Stepping up close to your body, the lieutenant grabs you by the chin and looks down his nose at you. “You’re too much of a distraction. And ya need to be taught a lesson, sweetheart; when I say somethin’ I fuckin’ mean it. Consider this my self-control.” 
“Oh, gonna punish me now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you pull your face out of his grasp with a flick of your head. “Okay, go ahead. Let’s see what you got.”
“Ya ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me til I can be sure you’re gonna listen. You’re cut off, sweetheart, and until ya can learn, we’re done with this.” 
You hold his gaze steadfast, not intimidated in the least. If he wants to play this game, then you’ll play it, but if he thinks this is going to end the way he wants, he is going to be sorely mistaken. “Fine.” You don’t argue, there is no sense to. “Have it your way, sir. Is that all?”
You’ll have it your way soon enough. All it’ll take is patience.
He doesn’t say anything, opting to sit back in the chair behind his desk without uttering another word. It is a gross miscalculation on Lt. Riley’s part not to immediately take your acceptance if his reprimand as a giant red flag, but if he isn’t willing to put his knowledge of your competitive temperament to use then that is fully on him; he is a big boy and since he wants to talk about consequences, then he should be ready to receive his own.
You double check yourself in silence before you leave his office with a smug sense of satisfaction, though a plan isn’t in mind just yet. It doesn’t matter really, the bigger they are the harder they fall and you are confident that you can make him fold with very little effort because despite being a man of mostly mystery, you know the intimate details of what makes that 6’4” military officer weak. 
The day isn’t even over before you already have a plan in mind and it all involves one very specific item. It’s a shame you have to order it, but the time it’ll take to come in the post will work in your favor. Lt. Riley needs time to cool off, to miss his pretty thing, to let his appetite for you get ravenous again.
Patience was never your virtue unless it came to getting something you wanted, so you bore your restlessness in silence as you waited for your order to come in. You give the lieutenant his space without a fuss, letting him believe his little delusion that at any moment you’ll come crawling back ready to obey him just as he wants.
A week passes and then nearly another when finally you are gifted with your prize that comes in the evening mail that Friday. You can taste the sweetness of your retribution already as you rip into the package and pull out the smallest, tightest pair of jet black hot pants with white trim. No more keeping this body for his eyes only; if he doesn’t want to give you the attention you desire then someone else will. 
You rush to your barracks the second the day comes to a close with your package in hand; you have only a short window of time to pull your entire plan together or you’ll be forced to wait till after the weekend and you are tired of waiting. Tonight is the night that you make your lieutenant come crawling back to you and stop with this nonsense.   
The tiny swath of fabric covering your ass barely hides a damned thing from view, hugging around your hips like they are painted on and resting at the very top of your thighs so that the underside of your butt peeks out from below the hem. There is a slit that goes up the side and it is doing its job in making your legs look extra long while also showing as much skin as possible. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination for anyone who happens to look your way… and boy do you want as many eyes on you as you can get.
Let’s see him be steadfast in his resolve to teach you a lesson now.
With a head full of devious thoughts, you leave your room and head out onto base and into the oncoming night. Shoulders back and head held high you walk past the buildings with confidence on the way to your first stop of the night: the officers building. You had checked the clock just before you left, it’s nearly time now. He’ll be leaving his office soon and you need him to catch sight of you on the way to your second destination: the rec center.
How lucky it is that the lieutenant is a man of routine and so giving it another minute or two you step out in front of the building and start heading directly for the rec, though at a slower pace than usual. And sure enough, when you’re still within eyeshot, you hear the front door to the building open. 
Stepping out into the cooler evening air, Lt. Riley looks up and his sight is captured by a figure moving just up ahead in the distance. People coming and going isn’t abnormal on a military base, but what really catches his attention is the familiarity of the body and the way that body is dressed. He is stunned in his tracks because you are barely wearing anything at all with shorts that look like they’ve been painted on. Paired with the tight black tank top you’ve chosen and you might as well be naked for all the covering it does. After a good almost two weeks of no action, the man is starved…but also curious as to where the fuck you are going dressed like this. 
The best thing would have been for the lieutenant to turn tail and walk away, leave it and you alone, but as smart as Lt. Riley is when it comes to temptation the man is a goddamn fool that cannot help himself.
You are a good bit ahead by the time he takes action and decides to follow you, but he keeps the pace as heat floods his body from staring at the back of you walking away, desperately wanting to take a bite out of all that juicy meat tempting his gaze as it bounces with each sure-footed step you take. Fuck, he is a sucker for all the plump, tender parts of your body and having them on display like this is a regular buffet that he can’t help but soak up even with his nosiness into what exactly has you looking so killer. 
Those auburn eyes of his continue to follow you as you come to the front of a building and enter. Now that you are out of view, he can think more clearly and he realizes that it’s the rec center that you’ve just entered. The closer the lieutenant gets, the more he catches raucous sounds of many voices braying like a pack of crazed hounds, making him quicken his steps that match his rising blood pressure until he stands just outside the doors to peer in without being detected yet.
Through the glass doors he can see towards the back of the main room that a group of privates surrounding the single government bought pool table with cues in hand are now circling you like wolves circling a wounded deer, practically begging you to join them for a few games while he knows that its only to get you to stay longer so that they can enjoy the view. It makes his blood boil to watch them ogle you like that, getting far too close to what isn’t theirs. 
…to what belongs to him.
Standing in silence, now cloaked in darkness as night has fallen, he watches angrily as a private gets bold enough to place his hand at the small of your back just as you lean over the table to make your first shot and suddenly he is seeing red. He can barely comprehend anything through the angry haze clouding his vision, but he can feel the cold steel of the door handle in his hand as he wrenches it open and stalks inside as if he is ready to kill.   
All eyes immediately drift towards the source of the sound. You look up through a giggle to see the form of the lieutenant standing there, sharp gaze boring straight into you specifically and the man who still has his hand on you. 
“What’s goin’ on ‘ere,” that deep voice booms through the small space to quiet the rowdy bunch.
“Is there a problem, sir?” one of the more brave privates speaks up.
His sight doesn’t leave you. “Seems we need to have a chat about propriety,” he growls. “This is a military base, not a fuckin’ strip club.” 
You smirk. “I don’t know what kind of strip clubs you frequent, sir, but I can assure you that this is more clothing than most will allow.”
A few of the privates snicker behind you, impressed with your audacity to backtalk someone as imposing as the skull-masked officer and that does nothing but add fuel to the fire.
“Come with me- now.” His voice is firm. 
A collective “ooooh” passes around the bunch that is quickly quelled with one harsh glare. “If I were ya I would get back to my fuckin’ game,” Lt. Riley barks. “Or would you lot rather be placed on permanent fire guard to drive the goddamn point home, since ya want to meddle in an officer’s business?”
His command is absolute and none of the privates have the balls enough to question it. Quickly they scramble back to their game, keeping their heads down and eyes locked to the table. Whatever trouble you are about to get in is none of their concern, not when being reprimanded by the imposing lieutenant is on the line.
Satisfied, those amber eyes snap right back to you. “Move, now,” he demands and points towards an area of the rec that is blocked off by a wall, essentially cutting the room in two and will give enough privacy that the others inside won’t be able to witness what is about to transpire. 
“Of course, sir,” you say in agreement without a syllable of dissention. 
Turning on your heels you take off in the direction pointed out to you, walking ahead of the masked officer eagerly. He’s mad; there is no need to turn around, you can feel his glare on you the entire walk over and it makes you smile. You’ve hit the nerve you had hoped to. Now to bring it all home and get your lover back the way you want. 
As soon as you make it behind the cover of the corner his hand is on your waist as he shoves you into the wall with brute force. Your back hits it and you let out a surprised gasp. He stands towering over top of you, a powerfully intimidating figure with a massive presence to match as he glares you down with fire in his gaze. 
“Can I fucking help you?” you ask as you quickly regain your composure.
Christ, when you want to get his attention you sure know how to do it. “What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’, hmm?” he questions back heatedly. “Puttin’ on a fuckin’ show for all the privates? Do ya fuckin’ think this appropriate, what ya got on?”
Something about having this conversation with the barrier of his balaclava covering his face infuriates you as if this was any other time he would have already had it off his face. “You think you can just treat me like everyone else after all we’ve done? Fuck you; take off the mask when you’re talking to me.”
His eyes narrow as he shakes his head side to side. “You don’t get to make demands a me anymore, princess.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenge back. “That what you think?”
Leaning in a bit closer, you can feel the heat of his breath even as it filters through the fabric. “That’s what I know. Now answer the question. Do ya think this is appropriate?”
Your shrug is nonchalant. “For field work? Well, it depends on the climate I suppose. That doesn’t really apply here does it, since we are still on base. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”
A sharp hiss of air exits rapidly out of his nose. “Like hell I do,” he says and suddenly you can make out the feel of his fingertips as they toy around with the fabric at the edge of your shorts. He lets them brush against your outer thigh as he follows the line of the hem up the slit that goes higher towards your hip. There is electricity in his touch and it makes your pulse start to race. “You're distracting my men. An outfit like this is askin’ for attention. Whose fuckin’ attention ya tryin’ to get, hmm?”
“Who said anything about attention?” you question him back as if you can’t possibly understand what all the fuss is about. “I just wanted to be comfortable. You know, unwind and all that after a long week.”
“Comfortable,” he scoffs as he rolls the fabric in between his fingers. “Ya barely have a god damned thing on.”
“Maybe that’s how I feel most comfortable,” you push, your reply a little more breathy. “You of all people should know that.” 
Oh you are walking on thin ice, lying to him like this. He is not that innocent that he can’t tell what you’re doing and you are not that naive to think that he won’t immediately figure it out. Harshly grabbing your chin, he holds your face firm in his grasp as his dark eyes shadowed within the confines of his mask stare back into your own. 
“Don’t ya lie to me, sweetheart,” he says, that gruff voice metered and unyielding in its severity. “The way ya were just eatin’ up how those boys reacted, I know ya didn’t fuckin’ dress like a slag for nothin’.”
“Are they not allowed to look, Simon?” you ask without missing a beat and using his name as if it’s a curse.
The question hangs in that air as Simon shifts in his stance while not saying a word, eyes narrowing as he realizes that there is no right way for him to answer that without giving himself away that he has dug himself into trouble.
A smug grin crosses your lips before you try to lick it away. “Ah, so that’s the problem right? That they were looking at me? Strange, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were… jealous. But that can’t be right, can it Simon? Because I thought I was cut off and that you were done, so it’s all fair game yeah? Unless there is something you want to fess up to?”
Simon’s chiseled jaw twitches under his mask as his eyes shimmer; you are pushing it, though why is he even surprised. “Ya better watch it, luv,” he warns under his breath as his grip along your chin tightens. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, your pretty little fingers are gonna fuckin’ burn.” 
And before you are even made conscious of it, your mind immediately knows what to say in response. You hold his gaze steadfast in your own. “Make me.”
Those two little words and their variations are Simon’s kryptonite and you know it; that’s what got you on his cock in the first place. Nothing else can make that man go feral than a threat from a bratty bitch that puts him in the position to show them the consequences of what their cocky attitudes get them.  
You smirk, satisfied with how you seem to have the upper hand in this little confrontation. Simon is now in a place where he will either have to admit he still wants you and that his threat meant nothing or he will have to let you go… and you know by the rapid increase in the rise and fall of his chest the longer you stand between him and the wall that the latter is looking less and less likely. 
“Still waiting on your answer,” you say with a smug, satisfied grin spread across your lips, “or is it that if you say anything, it’ll make it clear that you are now regretting a certain… decision… you so hastily made?”
God, you know just how to rile him up in the exact way that both infuriates and entices him. His devil with a pretty face, his sin that feels like heaven; he is drawn to your stubbornness like a moth is drawn to a flame.
“Ya vicious little bitch,” he says, the words sharp. 
Gotcha, you think to yourself. You have that serious military officer right where you want him. Now all you have to do is go in for the kill. You take a step into him even with your chin still secure in his grasp. “Oh yeah,” you respond, your voice husky. “As if you don’t fucking love it.”
You are met with only silence as a shiver runs straight through him. He’s barely able to react in time to hide its presence, but grits his teeth hard and stifles any movement other than the rapid breaths he continues to take. 
“Cat got your tongue?” you ask and wait for a response that doesn’t come; you don’t expect it to. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s how it’s going to work: I’m gonna wear what I want, when I want, and if you don’t like how others react to my wardrobe then that’s on you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a game to return to.” 
Pulling your head back forcefully out of his grip, his strong, rough fingers release your chin and he watches as you make your move to step past him, but he can’t let this go like he had originally planned. This is the game you both play and he just can’t quit you. You are his, his, and he isn’t going to just let you forget that. You barely take the first few steps around him headed back the way you came when you hear Simon mutter under his breath. 
“Fuck,” the sigh hits your ears before his arm jettisons out and grabs you by the wrist. 
Your body is spun around and pulled into him, your back flush against his warm chest as he leans himself back against the wall. His hand shoots up to cover over your mouth, cupping across your cheeks to stifle any sound that may come from the shock of his action. Sure enough you gasp into his palm as he straps you to his chest by locking you in place with his other arm. 
“You’re not goin’ anywhere, princess,” he grunts lowly into your ear. 
Stoic and silent he pushes a knee up through the gap in your legs to widen them before his hand slinks down your abdomen, over your pants, and comes to rest against your sex. That large palm now nestled in between your thighs presses up into you and it only takes a few seconds for Simon to realize that he can feel the lips of your pussy straight through the thin fabric of your pants without any barrier. No panties, really?
You fucking witch. You planned this, didn’t you?
There are still soldiers hanging about, out of sight for the moment, but still not something that is conducive for such an encounter. He wouldn’t risk something like this…would he? What you think is going to be a quick touch and pull back turns into his hand locking to your pussy as he begins to massage it through your pants. He pushes his fingers up through the cloth until he can feel the outline of your clit on his fingertips.
A quiet chuckle falls from your lips behind his handmade muzzle as his fingers make contact with the crotch of your shorts and you feel his chest jerk as he struggles to catch his breath. Feel something you like, lieutenant? you think as the corners of your mouth upturn against his skin. 
A moan barely squeaks out from around his hand before he presses it harder against your lips. “Don’t need someone catchin’ us, do we? Not til I’m finished with ya.”
Those heated words cause your heart to race violently, thudding strong against your ribcage to match a certain throbbing growing in strength between your thighs. 
“You gonna keep quiet?” he asks and you nod in his hand. “Don’t make me regret it or else, princess.”
Simon removes his palm and wraps his arms around your waist; you’re not going anywhere. “We could still get caught, you know,” you say softly, stumbling over your words as his fingers continue to play.
“Ya should've thought of that before ya tempted me with this fuckin’ skin, luv,” he murmurs against the side of your head. There is no way in hell you are getting out of these shorts without him fucking you out of them, he will stop only when he can feel a wet spot soaking through the crotch. “ ‘Sides, maybe I want that prick that had his fuckin’ hands on ya ta see that he doesn’t stand a chance.” 
He won’t, he has never been the type to share but the threat serves its purpose. The boys at the pool table continue to distract themselves, but who knows how long that will last. If they come creeping over, there is no way they won’t instantly know what is happening. And yet over and over his large fingers grind against your clit until it begins to ache. 
“Gimme your hand,” he searches for the appendage, only to be met with resistance once he locates it. 
“I said give,” he reiterates the point in that more authoritative tone he is used to using with his men.
You shake your head that still rests in his grasp; you don’t want to make this easy for him. If he wants something he is going to have to work for it. Encapsulating your wrist in his hand, the muscles along his forearm strain as he drags your arm up from your side. He takes your hand firmly in his, fingers lacing themselves over the top of your own as he descends them both down the front of your body and slips them into the waistband of your shorts. No time is wasted in bringing them directly between your legs, parting through your warm, soft lips, and nestling both sets of fingers inside. 
“Gonna need ya ta participate in this part,” he says, low and bassey at the side of your face. “You’re fuckin’ achin’ bad, aren’t ya? Christ luv, I can already feel how swollen your clit is.”
Simon keeps your conjoined fingers resting up against that tiny bundle of nerves. There is a tension-filled pause as he takes a deep, labored breath as the end of his thought hangs anxiously in the air, waiting for him to finish it. His lips are right at the threshold of your earlobe, you can feel their presence as they ghost near the tender flesh, the skin tingling as his warm breath wafts over the area.
You suddenly realize the lack of oxygen filling your lungs as he finally speaks. “Let’s make it worse,” he growls. 
A shiver snakes through your spine as he forces your fingers to work in tandem with his in rolling circles over your sensitive clit, stroking again and again in a steady rhythm that he has set. 
“Best hope they decide to leave soon, sweetheart,” he breathes the words into your ear as he rests his forehead against your temple. “Cause if ya want me to let ya fuckin’ come, they’re gonna have to be gone. Until then we’re just gonna have to keep ya wet and fuckin’ ready.”
His phallus pulses against your ass through his pants, bobbing with his racing heartbeat as it prods into the cheek of your ass. A struggled, shaky breath escapes your lips as he moves his hips to press it into you; your sanity is hanging on by a thread. All you want is for him to bend you over, rip your shorts down, and thrust inside, but no matter how much you rub against it he does not take the bait.
Time passes so much slower as you stay strapped to him, his hand and yours shoved down the front of your shorts keeping you wet. Your sanity is beginning to wane; no one should be expected to keep it together when a lover who knows your body like the back of his hand is using everything to his advantage to keep you aching.
Pressure gathering in the pit of your stomach only to dissipate before it can ever come to fruition, over and over Simon brings you to the brink only to back off once you get close enough. It feels like eternity in the haze of his capable fingers working your body before the men finally decide that they have had enough with standing around the quiet center when the local bar is just a short drive down the road and head out, completely forgetting that they haven’t seen either you or the lieutenant for quite some time, but they also haven’t seen either of you leave. 
The moment the door shuts and the last sounds of talking can be heard drifting off into the distance, you are released and again turned only to be shoved back against the wall. Simon is immediately pressed against you, one knee collapsing into the wall between your legs as your hands greedily claw at the cloth gathered at base of his neck, fingers pulling up the bottom of his mask without hindrance so that they can get underneath it and push it up to expose his hungry mouth. A devilish, toothy grin waits to meet you as the fabric is removed; he’s proud of the desperation he has left you in. 
“They’re gone,” you say with a heavy bit of neediness. “I did what you said.” 
“Ya want me ta give it to ya now, that it?” he asks with a smug sense of self satisfaction. 
“You promised,” you shoot back, the agony of waiting becoming unbearable the longer he takes. 
His face inches in closer to yours, hot breath meeting and wafting over the skin on your lips as he exhales. “Ya think this is gonna be some sorta reward?” he asks, his voice lowering into the deeper part of his register, that gravely vibrato that turns your legs into jelly just from the sound.  
Those full lips of his ghost over your own, making the skin quiver from the proximity. Your mouth parts open as suddenly you feel like you can’t get enough air while waiting in misery for him to break and crash on you with all of his desire. A breathy gasp escapes through the gap as that thick thigh of his presses up into your pussy. He has you right where he wants you now.  
“Ya still got a fuckin’ lesson ta learn, princess,” he says. “So, I’m gonna have ta fuck the attitude til it comes drippin’ right out of ya.” 
And with that he leans down and forcefully connects your lips together so that your head hits the wall behind you. Fiery and aggressive he embraces your mouth again and again, lips fighting for dominance with each new connection. Breath and spit are shared as the wet smacking sounds of skin on skin hits the air and fills up the quiet of the place. 
You haven’t gotten your fill yet, but suddenly you find your body being lifted into the air and carelessly flung over one of his broad shoulders as he drags you back into the middle of the room. He eyes his destination the moment it comes into view from around the wall and quickly makes his way over to it; somewhere he can put you so he can get to work.
Your backside makes contact with the smooth felt of the pool table as Simon sets you down on top of it. The cool surface of the rails raises goosebumps on the back of your thighs as he situates you right at the edge. No longer pressed together, a spot of cold radiates from his thigh and he looks down to see a present you have left for him right on the fabric.
“Look what ya did,” he growls, pointing to the obviously darker patch on the inner thigh of his jeans. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”
“Whose…ng…fucking fault is that?” you whimper, adjusting yourself as every little movement puts pressure on your aching clit. 
“And I’d do it again ta keep my brat in line,” he smirks as his irises sparkle like a predator locking on to its prey. “Now, open your fuckin’ legs.”
You widen the gap between your thighs more, but he still has to use his hips to shove them open enough that he can fit in until he is right up against you. The sharp edge of his teeth cuts into the plump flesh of your bottom lip as he sucks it into his mouth to give it a hard nip. He swallows down the harsh groan you produce at his delicious brand of roughness like it’s honey. Every single sound you make in response to his actions is music to his ears. 
“Need ya ta know this type a shit isn’t gonna fly with me.”
Fingertips play around the perimeter of your cunt until he hooks them through the cool, damp crotch of your pants and wrenches them to the side to expose your entrance. “Let’s ruin these fuckin’ things,” he smugly says as he works with one hand to undo his pants and slide both that and his boxers down his thighs until his cock pops out of the waistband and stands hard and throbbing for you. “Don’t ever wanna see these goddamn things again after tonight.”
His vice-like grip on the crotch of your shorts causes a few of the overly taut threads to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way to align the swollen head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole he’s been working so that it’s already ready to take him in. You can feel the tip of his hard girth push against the moist skin before he bucks his hips and it strains through the barrier. His grip moves to your waist to force your body further down on him as you whine, the stretch overwhelming, but divine. 
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, princess? Why you wore these tight fuckin’ things, yeah? Ya tryin’ ta make me take ya like an animal?” he grunts, the feel of your tight, silky walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you full threatening to send him straight to hell. 
“The moment I saw ya in ‘em I thought I was gonna lose control. Been a while since I had ya. That on purpose too?”   
You fall backward against the table, your back arching up off it and your eyes roll back into your head as he pulls you down while slamming the length of his phallus up into you until he reaches the base. He doesn’t give you a moment to gather your sanity and instead snaps his hips into you, the intensity in each stroke causing your body to jolt over the felted surface. 
“Look at me,” he grunts as he reaches out to grab at your chin and pull you back up to him, “look - at - me.”
You’re unable to deny him when he’s thrusting so deep and your eyes open to meet his gaze again. “You’re mine, ya hear?” he breathes the words desperate and firm. “Nobody else can look at ya like this, got it? Nobody.”
His breath hitches a moment as a shudder runs through his cock from the way you tighten around it. “Those boys out there mighta gotten a show tonight, but that’s the last they’ll ever get,” he growls more intensely. “Don’t even want ‘em to think they have a fuckin’ chance wit ya cause you belong ta me. You were made for me, princess. Only me.”
Harder and harder he pounds into your pussy with a need that feels like it cannot be quenched no matter how deep he goes. “And nobody else - nobody else- ya don’t need anyone else ‘sides me. Say it.” 
A pathetic whimper is all he gets in response as his cock digs in deep, but that isn’t good enough. You’re gonna do exactly as he says and repeat it - out loud. His grip around your face tightens.
“Say it,” he demands again. 
“Don’t… need a-anyone…else…” you stammer out as it is a struggle now to speak. 
Then you hear it, the distinct sound of fabric beginning to rip. The seam along the crotch has had too much strain put on it and it is starting to give, threads ripping more steadily the harder Simon thrusts. God, that sound is the catalyst to you suddenly feeling wild, like all you want him to do is shred the fucking things off of you by screwing you out of them. It’s at that moment that familiar warmth begins to gather in your belly. It won’t be long now and you’ll be spilling.
“Say: you’re the only one I fuckin’ want,” he insists as he clenches to make his cock pulse inside of you.
Simon’s wide hand slides down from your chin to just at the base of your throat where he wraps it around and gives it a light squeeze for emphasis. The pressure feels like heaven amongst all the stimulation and trying to keep your eyes on him and speak at the same time is nearly impossible, but find your words soon enough.
You lick your parched lips. “You’re the only one I want, Simon,” you moan.
“Again.”
“You’re the only one I will ever want, Simon.”
Another couple of desperately strong thrusts. “And you’re gonna listen from now on, yeah?”
“Yes!” you blurt out.
He pulls you by the throat so that you meet him in a kiss as his hips never stop snapping into you. “Such a fuckin’ obedient girl for me,” he groans against your mouth as he breaks free from it. “Now, let’s make ya come so ya never fuckin’ forget who it is that ya belong to.”
Releasing your neck, Simon brings his hand down, parting through your dripping lips to find your clit so that he can rub over it as he thrusts. There is not much more you can take now; all his work before has done its job to perfection and your body is falling apart so rapidly it feels like the nosedive off that first ddrop of a rollercoaster. 
“G-gonna… gonna come, baby,” you stammer out. You bring your lips in closer to his, desperate to kiss him again, but the pleasure is just too much to handle that you devolve into simply panting instead. 
He inhales in ragged breaths the sweet air from your mouth, his teeth grinding together the harder he thrusts. All those days without you have been frustrating as he waited for you to come crawling back. He missed the feeling of you wrapped around him and right now he needs you to come on his cock. 
But this isn’t going to teach you what he wants. Pulling out amidst your whined protests, he pulls you off the table onto your feet and spins you around before pushing your upper body down while guiding you to spread your stance wider and ripping the crotch of your pants aside again, this time he doesn’t hesitate to enter you.
From this angle the penetration is even deeper and as his finger finds that tiny bud of nerve endings again, you are right back where you want to be - a mess ready to explode.   
“Come for me.” He is demanding while trying to hold it all together. “Now.”
Harder and harder he pushes, thrusting and stroking, and like the flick of a switch all that heat and all that pressure culminates in an explosion that has you crying out loudly as you come with force, your back arching to pull you away from his grasp. Waves wash through your body as the intensity of your orgasm shakes through you until your legs are vibrating around his hips. 
The moment you cry out he allows himself to let go, finally finished with his task, and fucking you through your orgasm he comes so hard that he has to grab the sides of the pool table to keep himself upright. Grunting like an animal he coats your walls and thrusts his cum continuously back up into you until he is spent and cannot go another second. 
Simon stays inside as you both come back down from that exhilarating high, two glistening bodies conjoined at the forehead with eyes closed until he has enough strength to pull his sensitive cock carefully out of you. Both of your mixed juices follow his cock out, dribbling out of your entrance to collect in the crotch of your pants as they snap back into place now that there is nothing keeping them pushed aside. 
You flip yourself back over and lean against the edge of the table to look down at what’s left of your shorts. They are completely soaked, drenched in so much of your juices that they look wet. The ruined fabric clings to your body as if it’s glued on and you are left feeling cold down there as Simon pulls away.
“That’s better,” he says with satisfaction as he studies his handiwork of the ripped, saturated fabric. “And so is this.”
A more gentle kiss is placed on your lips this time, one in praise of you doing so well for him. You reciprocate the feeling by cupping his face in your hands.
“And we’re not gonna have any more a this, right?” he asks as he pulls from your mouth.
Looking into his eyes, a subtle smirk contours your lips. “We’ll see,” you say as Simon shakes his head.
He wouldn’t expect anything less.
“So,” you continue, “I’m just wondering if you thought about how I’m going to leave here, now that I look like this. Gonna need something so I don’t have to cross base.” 
Across the way he spots a random jacket hanging off the back of a chair, left by one of the privates no doubt. Looks big enough and he returns with it in hand. Carefully he circles the sleeves around your body and ties them in front to cover you until you can get back to your room and change. Don’t need anyone seeing anything they shouldn’t.
“I did really like these by the way,” you pick as Simon pulls you by the knot in the sleeves wrapped around your waist back into him to catch your lips one last time with his.  
“Don’t ya worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna be gettin’ you a new pair, ones that I chose,” he says. “Cause I’m gonna be the only one that gets to enjoy this fuckin’ view from now on. And it’s a view you’re gonna give me ‘gain and again, darlin’.”
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Just realised that JK was in NY up until a day before the trip, which means he wasn’t in Korea and was busy with a schedule whilst Tae decided to self insert himself, just imagine that and not being able to stop him.
You made me go and look it up. Yes, Jungkook had that performance at Global Citizen Festival. He arrived back in Seoul on the 25th and left for Jeju on the 26th, which was the first day of the trip. And if the entire story about the schedule gc and feeling left out is true, it means Jungkook might have found out about the changes in his trip right before his flight or during it.
I can't help but think how that news was received. He was done with work for just a bit because a few days later 3D was about to be released. But they managed to squeeze a few days to be together for the show on Jeju and then everything changed.
But, judging by their bigger luggage and what Jungkook said about visiting his parents for Chuseok, it's possible jikook traveled to Busan afterwards.
And if those rumors and sightings of jikook in August in Jeju are true, then they at least had the chance to be there together. The hijacking only happened when the cameras were rolling.
There's one thing that I want to say here as well. I don't understand how it's possible for stans to use whatever logic they want and disregard common sense and what is a common response to a situation, just because they were taught to "love" some kpop idols. But it goes to show how the BH/BTS brainwash works on army. Because it is a normal and common reaction in real life to at least get annoyed if someone, be it a friend or family member, would suddenly say they felt left out and invited themselves to a trip that had been arranged and planned accordingly in a way that was also on point thematically with the AYS concept. It would suck and we would complain and swear here and there and depending on the relationship we have, we would accept the situation or say no to that person.
But in fandom spaces (I include here army, solo fans, akgaes, shippers, etc), all of a sudden, that is not only allowed to be said/commented on/criticized, and there's a huge backlash, with arguments that mostly boil down to: "vminkook love each other, you all have lost the plot, touch some grass". Because the act of looking at these people as regular folks just like us, who can be assholes (just like us), who can ruin the vibe (just like us), who can make passive aggresive comments (just like us), is something completely absurd.
And lastly, if someone talks about being left out and has to insist on being included, it means he wasn't wanted there in the first place. Having some self respect and self awareness does wonders though!
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