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lunasfics · 1 year

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Found Family

summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.

pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader

word count: 8.2k

preview

a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)

reblogs are appreciated!

“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it?

“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back.

“Good. Nightwing?”

“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent.

“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for.

“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom.

“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.”

Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”

“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.”

Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”

He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read:

Attempt 1: G6B24

Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)

Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown)

Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision

‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass.

“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did.

Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.

His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick.

“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind.

“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.

Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him.

“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you.

The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.

You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file.

“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.

You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.

“Batman?”

Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.

Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.”

You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?”

Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised.

"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.

He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."

You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected.

When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.

They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”

“What’s going o-”

He hung up.

Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’”

Damian covered his laugh with a cough.

You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on.

Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.”

Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave.

Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.

Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.

You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.

He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?”

“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry.

Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?”

You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.”

He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”

You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.

Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well.

Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.”

You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different.

Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first.

“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile.

You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?

“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.”

Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.”

At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you?

Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.

Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state.

You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.

“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”

Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.”

You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile.

“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.”

“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.”

Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.”

“Wayne.”

He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”

“Wayne.”

This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”

The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares.

Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”

“No.” came their simultaneous response.

Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.”

Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…”

Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper.

Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”

Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”

Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”

You nodded, “I like it.”

Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”

Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose.

Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement.

Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.”

Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you.

Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.”

You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain.

“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.”

“They’re fine…Thank you.”

He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.”

You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change.

You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over.

Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner

You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you.

You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase.

Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first.

Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.”

“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.

He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.”

You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own.

“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.

His eyes widened, was that why you were there?

“How?”

All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first.

“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.”

Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”

“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.”

Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.”

Bruce simply gave a nod.

Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all.

Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.

Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian.

Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe.

She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest.

Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”

“Hi!” he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you.

“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.

Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”

You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”

“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.”

Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?”

He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”

“Sounds about right.”

Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own.

The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.

The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.

Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.”

“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.

The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her.

“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.

“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.”

You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey.

Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.”

You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.”

Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.

Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front.

“This better be good.”

Tim mumbled, “Finally”

“Miss me Timmy?”

“Quite the contrary.”

The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away.

His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce.

“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.”

Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.”

“Holy shit, man.”

“Jason, will you shut up?”

“Never.”

“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.”

“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.”

“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.”

“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.”

“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.”

Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you.

“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her.

“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit.

“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-”

Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled.

Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.”

“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.”

Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone.

Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.”

“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied.

She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.”

“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.”

Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.”

“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do.

“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.

“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered.

“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.”

“I want time with her, Bruce.”

“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.”

Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer.

Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?”

You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”

She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”

You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

Clark gave you a fond smile.

Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless.

The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face.

“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.”

You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away.

It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?”

You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.”

He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”

“I suppose so.”

“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.”

“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–”

“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news.

Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him.

A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated.

You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done.

Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.”

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.”

“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”

Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”

Cass nodded in agreement.

“We’re just buying training clothes.”

“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.”

You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.”

“See?”

Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”

Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site.

When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.

Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that.

You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself.

The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.

He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself.

He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about.

The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings.

By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.

The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere.

When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off.

The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.

As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.”

You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.”

He nodded, walking away to change as well.

You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill.

“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”

You nodded.

“Let’s see it.”

You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.

Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.

Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”

He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”

You nodded. Made sense.

“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.”

You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.

Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.”

You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing.

This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine.

Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite.

You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.

The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.

He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit.

And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying.

“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction.

You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.”

You nodded, “How are we doing that?”

He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?”

You nodded.

“Okay… and…. Go!”

You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds.

“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you.

You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner.

They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking.

That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case.

They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor.

The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother.

Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in.

Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there.

You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.

Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough.

Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.

Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled.

You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.

Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.

Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.

True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.

Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal.

You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.

Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it.

You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.

Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’

Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine.

Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.

These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.

These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.

And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.

You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow. Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.

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zvaigzdelasas · 8 months

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South Africa’s genocide case has put the spotlight on a deeper fault line in global geopolitics. Beyond the courtroom drama, experts say divisions over the war in Gaza symbolize a widening gap between Israel and its traditional Western allies, notably the United States and Europe, and a group of nations known as the Global South — countries located primarily in the southern hemisphere, often characterized by lower income levels and developing economies.

Reactions from the Global North to the ICJ case have been mixed. While some nations have maintained a cautious diplomatic stance, others, particularly Israel’s staunchest allies in the West, have criticized South Africa’s move.

The US has stood by Israel through the war by continuing to ship arms to it, opposing a ceasefire, and vetoing many UN Security Council resolutions that aimed to bring a halt to the fighting. The Biden administration has rubbished the claim that Israel is committing genocide as “meritless,” while the UK has refused to back South Africa.[...]

As a nation whose history is rooted in overcoming apartheid, South Africa’s move carries symbolic weight that has resonated with other nations in the developing world, many of whom have faced the burden of oppression and colonialism from Western powers.

Nelson Mandela, the face of the anti-apartheid movement, was a staunch supporter of the Palestine Liberation Organization and its leader Yasser Arafat, saying in 1990: “We align ourselves with the PLO because, akin to our struggle, they advocate for the right of self-determination.”

Hugh Lovatt, a senior policy fellow with the Middle East and North Africa Programme at the European Council on Foreign Relations, said that while South Africa’s case is a continuation of its long-standing pro-Palestinian sympathies, the countries that have rallied behind it show deeper frustrations by the Global South.

There is “a clear geopolitical context in which many countries from the Global South have been increasingly critical over what they see as a lack of Western pressure on Israel to prevent such a large-scale loss of life in Gaza and its double standards when it comes to international law,” Lovatt told CNN.

Much of the non-Western world opposes the war in Gaza; China has joined the 22-member Arab League in calling for a ceasefire, while several Latin American nations have expelled Israeli diplomats in protest, and several Asian and African countries have joined Muslim and Arab nations in backing South Africa’s case against Israel at the ICJ.

For many in the developing world, the ICJ case has become a focal point for questioning the moral authority of the West and what is seen as the hypocrisy of the world’s most powerful nations and their unwillingness to hold Israel to account. [...]

Israel sided with the West against Soviet-backed Arab regimes during the Cold War, and Western countries largely view it “as a fellow member of the liberal democratic club,” he added.[...]

“But the strong support of Western governments is increasingly at odds with the attitudes of Western publics which continue to shift away from Israel,” Lovatt said.

Israel has framed the war in Gaza as a clash of civilizations where it is acting as the guardian of Western values that it says are facing an existential threat.

“This war is a war that is not only between Israel and Hamas,” Israeli President Isaac Herzog told MSNBC in December. “It’s a war that is intended – really, truly – to save Western civilization, to save the values of Western civilization.”

So far, no Western countries have supported South Africa’s case against Israel.

Among Western states, Germany has been one of the most vocal supporters of Israel’s campaign in Gaza. The German government has said it “expressly rejects” allegations that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza and that it plans to intervene as a third party on its behalf at the ICJ.

An opinion poll by German broadcaster ZDF this week however found that 61% of Germans do not consider Israel’s military operation in the Gaza Strip as justified in light of the civilian casualties. Only 25% voiced support for Israel’s offensive.

But it is in Germany’s former colonial territory, Namibia, that it has attracted the fiercest criticism.

The Namibian President Hage Geingob in a statement on Saturday chided Berlin’s decision to reject the ICJ case, accusing it of committing “the first genocide of the 20th century in 1904-1908, in which tens of thousands of innocent Namibians died in the most inhumane and brutal conditions.” The statement added that the German government had not yet fully atoned for the killings.

Bangladesh, where up to three million people were killed during the country’s war of independence from Pakistan in the 1970s, has gone a step further to file a declaration of intervention in the ICJ case to back South Africa’s claims, according to the Dhaka Tribune.

A declaration of intervention allows a state that is not party to the proceedings to present its observations to the court.

“With Germany siding with Israel, and Bangladesh and Namibia backing South Africa at the ICJ, the geopolitical divide between the Global South and the West appears to be deepening,” Lovatt said.

Traditionally, the West has wielded significant influence in international affairs, but South Africa’s move signals a growing assertiveness among Global South nations that threatens the status quo, says Adekoya.

“One clear pattern emerging is that the old Western-dominated order is increasingly being challenged, a situation likely to only further intensify as the West loses its once unassailably dominant economic position,” Adekoya said.

19 Jan 24

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shadi90 · 8 days

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,🆘dont skip please save my family from the genocide🆘

I will take amoment of your time

My name is Shadi Issa. I am married and a father of three children: Tia (6 years old), Ibrahim (4 years old), and Sand (1.5 years old). We currently live in Deir al-Balah, located in central Gaza, after being forced to flee from northern Gaza where we previously lived in Beit Lahia. We, along with over a million other Palestinians, had to relocate to the southern part of Gaza, specifically to Rafah, where we experienced a period of relative stability until the outbreak of the conflict.

Before the war, I worked as an accountant and we enjoyed a peaceful and stable life in our home, which comprised five residential apartments occupied by my extended family and me. We had access to amenities such as a water well and a solar power system, and we cultivated olive trees on our land. Our lives were proceeding normally, and my children were about to start the school year, until the fateful day of October 7, 2023, when the war erupted, turning our lives into a living nightmare. Our home was bombed, destroying our dreams and future.

Our displacement journey began amidst the bombing and danger, leading us to makeshift shelters lacking basic necessities. We face daily struggles to find drinking water, which is often unsuitable for use. We currently live in a tent no larger than five square meters, which offers no protection from the summer heat or winter cold, and provides no defense against insects, scorpions, and snakes, which have impacted the health of our children.

We have endured immense pain and fear, witnessing death repeatedly. The situation in Gaza continues to deteriorate, and all escape routes are blocked. Returning to northern Gaza is prohibited due to security barriers. After seven months in Rafah, where we faced further bombing and losses, we moved to Deir al-Balah in central Gaza, where we lost all our belongings.

Escaping Gaza to Egypt is not easy and requires significant funds to cover travel costs and other fees. The estimated cost is $5,000 per adult and $2,500 per child. The funds will be used to cover travel expenses and basic living costs in Egypt until we can rebuild our lives away from the ongoing conflict.

We are currently living in an extremely cramped tent, and we have lost everything we once had. I kindly ask for your assistance in raising $20,000, which will enable us to escape to Egypt, where we can be safe and start a new life, and where our children can attend school and have a chance at a normal life.

Any contribution, no matter how small, will be greatly appreciated and will help save our lives. We urge you to support us and help us in this critical time.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months

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Unpersoned

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

My latest Locus Magazine column is "Unpersoned." It's about the implications of putting critical infrastructure into the private, unaccountable hands of tech giants:

https://locusmag.com/2024/07/cory-doctorow-unpersoned/

The column opens with the story of romance writer K Renee, as reported by Madeline Ashby for Wired:

https://www.wired.com/story/what-happens-when-a-romance-author-gets-locked-out-of-google-docs/

Renee is a prolific writer who used Google Docs to compose her books, and share them among early readers for feedback and revisions. Last March, Renee's Google account was locked, and she was no longer able to access ten manuscripts for her unfinished books, totaling over 220,000 words. Google's famously opaque customer service – a mix of indifferently monitored forums, AI chatbots, and buck-passing subcontractors – would not explain to her what rule she had violated, merely that her work had been deemed "inappropriate."

Renee discovered that she wasn't being singled out. Many of her peers had also seen their accounts frozen and their documents locked, and none of them were able to get an explanation out of Google. Renee and her similarly situated victims of Google lockouts were reduced to developing folk-theories of what they had done to be expelled from Google's walled garden; Renee came to believe that she had tripped an anti-spam system by inviting her community of early readers to access the books she was working on.

There's a normal way that these stories resolve themselves: a reporter like Ashby, writing for a widely read publication like Wired, contacts the company and triggers a review by one of the vanishingly small number of people with the authority to undo the determinations of the Kafka-as-a-service systems that underpin the big platforms. The system's victim gets their data back and the company mouths a few empty phrases about how they take something-or-other "very seriously" and so forth.

But in this case, Google broke the script. When Ashby contacted Google about Renee's situation, Google spokesperson Jenny Thomson insisted that the policies for Google accounts were "clear": "we may review and take action on any content that violates our policies." If Renee believed that she'd been wrongly flagged, she could "request an appeal."

But Renee didn't even know what policy she was meant to have broken, and the "appeals" went nowhere.

This is an underappreciated aspect of "software as a service" and "the cloud." As companies from Microsoft to Adobe to Google withdraw the option to use software that runs on your own computer to create files that live on that computer, control over our own lives is quietly slipping away. Sure, it's great to have all your legal documents scanned, encrypted and hosted on GDrive, where they can't be burned up in a house-fire. But if a Google subcontractor decides you've broken some unwritten rule, you can lose access to those docs forever, without appeal or recourse.

That's what happened to "Mark," a San Francisco tech workers whose toddler developed a UTI during the early covid lockdowns. The pediatrician's office told Mark to take a picture of his son's infected penis and transmit it to the practice using a secure medical app. However, Mark's phone was also set up to synch all his pictures to Google Photos (this is a default setting), and when the picture of Mark's son's penis hit Google's cloud, it was automatically scanned and flagged as Child Sex Abuse Material (CSAM, better known as "child porn"):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/22/allopathic-risk/#snitches-get-stitches

Without contacting Mark, Google sent a copy of all of his data – searches, emails, photos, cloud files, location history and more – to the SFPD, and then terminated his account. Mark lost his phone number (he was a Google Fi customer), his email archives, all the household and professional files he kept on GDrive, his stored passwords, his two-factor authentication via Google Authenticator, and every photo he'd ever taken of his young son.

The SFPD concluded that Mark hadn't done anything wrong, but it was too late. Google had permanently deleted all of Mark's data. The SFPD had to mail a physical letter to Mark telling him he wasn't in trouble, because he had no email and no phone.

Mark's not the only person this happened to. Writing about Mark for the New York Times, Kashmir Hill described other parents, like a Houston father identified as "Cassio," who also lost their accounts and found themselves blocked from fundamental participation in modern life:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/21/technology/google-surveillance-toddler-photo.html

Note that in none of these cases did the problem arise from the fact that Google services are advertising-supported, and because these people weren't paying for the product, they were the product. Buying a $800 Pixel phone or paying more than $100/year for a Google Drive account means that you're definitely paying for the product, and you're still the product.

What do we do about this? One answer would be to force the platforms to provide service to users who, in their judgment, might be engaged in fraud, or trafficking in CSAM, or arranging terrorist attacks. This is not my preferred solution, for reasons that I hope are obvious!

We can try to improve the decision-making processes at these giant platforms so that they catch fewer dolphins in their tuna-nets. The "first wave" of content moderation appeals focused on the establishment of oversight and review boards that wronged users could appeal their cases to. The idea was to establish these "paradigm cases" that would clarify the tricky aspects of content moderation decisions, like whether uploading a Nazi atrocity video in order to criticize it violated a rule against showing gore, Nazi paraphernalia, etc.

This hasn't worked very well. A proposal for "second wave" moderation oversight based on arms-length semi-employees at the platforms who gather and report statistics on moderation calls and complaints hasn't gelled either:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/12/move-slow-and-fix-things/#second-wave

Both the EU and California have privacy rules that allow users to demand their data back from platforms, but neither has proven very useful (yet) in situations where users have their accounts terminated because they are accused of committing gross violations of platform policy. You can see why this would be: if someone is accused of trafficking in child porn or running a pig-butchering scam, it would be perverse to shut down their account but give them all the data they need to go one committing these crimes elsewhere.

But even where you can invoke the EU's GDPR or California's CCPA to get your data, the platforms deliver that data in the most useless, complex blobs imaginable. For example, I recently used the CCPA to force Mailchimp to give me all the data they held on me. Mailchimp – a division of the monopolist and serial fraudster Intuit – is a favored platform for spammers, and I have been added to thousands of Mailchimp lists that bombard me with unsolicited press pitches and come-ons for scam products.

Mailchimp has spent a decade ignoring calls to allow users to see what mailing lists they've been added to, as a prelude to mass unsubscribing from those lists (for Mailchimp, the fact that spammers can pay it to send spam that users can't easily opt out of is a feature, not a bug). I thought that the CCPA might finally let me see the lists I'm on, but instead, Mailchimp sent me more than 5900 files, scattered through which were the internal serial numbers of the lists my name had been added to – but without the names of those lists any contact information for their owners. I can see that I'm on more than 1,000 mailing lists, but I can't do anything about it.

Mailchimp shows how a rule requiring platforms to furnish data-dumps can be easily subverted, and its conduct goes a long way to explaining why a decade of EU policy requiring these dumps has failed to make a dent in the market power of the Big Tech platforms.

The EU has a new solution to this problem. With its 2024 Digital Markets Act, the EU is requiring platforms to furnish APIs – programmatic ways for rivals to connect to their services. With the DMA, we might finally get something parallel to the cellular industry's "number portability" for other kinds of platforms.

If you've ever changed cellular platforms, you know how smooth this can be. When you get sick of your carrier, you set up an account with a new one and get a one-time code. Then you call your old carrier, endure their pathetic begging not to switch, give them that number and within a short time (sometimes only minutes), your phone is now on the new carrier's network, with your old phone-number intact.

This is a much better answer than forcing platforms to provide service to users whom they judge to be criminals or otherwise undesirable, but the platforms hate it. They say they hate it because it makes them complicit in crimes ("if we have to let an accused fraudster transfer their address book to a rival service, we abet the fraud"), but it's obvious that their objection is really about being forced to reduce the pain of switching to a rival.

There's a superficial reasonableness to the platforms' position, but only until you think about Mark, or K Renee, or the other people who've been "unpersonned" by the platforms with no explanation or appeal.

The platforms have rigged things so that you must have an account with them in order to function, but they also want to have the unilateral right to kick people off their systems. The combination of these demands represents more power than any company should have, and Big Tech has repeatedly demonstrated its unfitness to wield this kind of power.

This week, I lost an argument with my accountants about this. They provide me with my tax forms as links to a Microsoft Cloud file, and I need to have a Microsoft login in order to retrieve these files. This policy – and a prohibition on sending customer files as email attachments – came from their IT team, and it was in response to a requirement imposed by their insurer.

The problem here isn't merely that I must now enter into a contractual arrangement with Microsoft in order to do my taxes. It isn't just that Microsoft's terms of service are ghastly. It's not even that they could change those terms at any time, for example, to ingest my sensitive tax documents in order to train a large language model.

It's that Microsoft – like Google, Apple, Facebook and the other giants – routinely disconnects users for reasons it refuses to explain, and offers no meaningful appeal. Microsoft tells its business customers, "force your clients to get a Microsoft account in order to maintain communications security" but also reserves the right to unilaterally ban those clients from having a Microsoft account.

There are examples of this all over. Google recently flipped a switch so that you can't complete a Google Form without being logged into a Google account. Now, my ability to purse all kinds of matters both consequential and trivial turn on Google's good graces, which can change suddenly and arbitrarily. If I was like Mark, permanently banned from Google, I wouldn't have been able to complete Google Forms this week telling a conference organizer what sized t-shirt I wear, but also telling a friend that I could attend their wedding.

Now, perhaps some people really should be locked out of digital life. Maybe people who traffick in CSAM should be locked out of the cloud. But the entity that should make that determination is a court, not a Big Tech content moderator. It's fine for a platform to decide it doesn't want your business – but it shouldn't be up to the platform to decide that no one should be able to provide you with service.

This is especially salient in light of the chaos caused by Crowdstrike's catastrophic software update last week. Crowdstrike demonstrated what happens to users when a cloud provider accidentally terminates their account, but while we're thinking about reducing the likelihood of such accidents, we should really be thinking about what happens when you get Crowdstruck on purpose.

The wholesale chaos that Windows users and their clients, employees, users and stakeholders underwent last week could have been pieced out retail. It could have come as a court order (either by a US court or a foreign court) to disconnect a user and/or brick their computer. It could have come as an insider attack, undertaken by a vengeful employee, or one who was on the take from criminals or a foreign government. The ability to give anyone in the world a Blue Screen of Death could be a feature and not a bug.

It's not that companies are sadistic. When they mistreat us, it's nothing personal. They've just calculated that it would cost them more to run a good process than our business is worth to them. If they know we can't leave for a competitor, if they know we can't sue them, if they know that a tech rival can't give us a tool to get our data out of their silos, then the expected cost of mistreating us goes down. That makes it economically rational to seek out ever-more trivial sources of income that impose ever-more miserable conditions on us. When we can't leave without paying a very steep price, there's practically a fiduciary duty to find ways to upcharge, downgrade, scam, screw and enshittify us, right up to the point where we're so pissed that we quit.

Google could pay competent decision-makers to review every complaint about an account disconnection, but the cost of employing that large, skilled workforce vastly exceeds their expected lifetime revenue from a user like Mark. The fact that this results in the ruination of Mark's life isn't Google's problem – it's Mark's problem.

The cloud is many things, but most of all, it's a trap. When software is delivered as a service, when your data and the programs you use to read and write it live on computers that you don't control, your switching costs skyrocket. Think of Adobe, which no longer lets you buy programs at all, but instead insists that you run its software via the cloud. Adobe used the fact that you no longer own the tools you rely upon to cancel its Pantone color-matching license. One day, every Adobe customer in the world woke up to discover that the colors in their career-spanning file collections had all turned black, and would remain black until they paid an upcharge:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

The cloud allows the companies whose products you rely on to alter the functioning and cost of those products unilaterally. Like mobile apps – which can't be reverse-engineered and modified without risking legal liability – cloud apps are built for enshittification. They are designed to shift power away from users to software companies. An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a felony to add an ad-blocker to it. A cloud app is some Javascript wrapped in enough terms of service clickthroughs to make it a felony to restore old features that the company now wants to upcharge you for.

Google's defenstration of K Renee, Mark and Cassio may have been accidental, but Google's capacity to defenstrate all of us, and the enormous cost we all bear if Google does so, has been carefully engineered into the system. Same goes for Apple, Microsoft, Adobe and anyone else who traps us in their silos. The lesson of the Crowdstrike catastrophe isn't merely that our IT systems are brittle and riddled with single points of failure: it's that these failure-points can be tripped deliberately, and that doing so could be in a company's best interests, no matter how devastating it would be to you or me.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/22/degoogled/#kafka-as-a-service

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

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

#pluralistic #google #monopoly #big tech #locus magazine #crowdstrike #single points of failure

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911bts · 2 months

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IATSE: 🚨 BREAKING: IATSE Members Overwhelmingly Ratify Hollywood Basic and Area Standards Agreements

With 85.9% of members’ votes in favor of approving the Hollywood Basic and 87.2% in favor of approving the Area Standards Agreement, all local unions voted in favor and the delegate counts in favor were unanimous for both contracts.

Turnout was historically high, with strong majorities of members participating in both votes. This represents only the second time in history that the Hollywood Basic and Area Standards agreements were negotiated and voted on concurrently.

The Hollywood Basic Agreement is an umbrella contract covering roughly 45,000 behind-the-scenes film and television workers primarily located in Los Angeles, across IATSE’s 13 West Coast Studio Locals. The Area Standards Agreement covers 23 local unions and approximately 25,000 film and television workers across the U.S., excluding Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco, and Chicago.

IATSE International President Matthew D. Loeb said, “IATSE’s rank-and-file members have spoken, and their will is clear. Between significant wage increases, several craft-specific adjustments, bolstered health/pension benefits with new funding mechanisms, improved safety provisions, critical protections preventing misuse of artificial intelligence from displacing IATSE members, and more — The gains secured in these contracts mark a significant step forward for America’s film and tv industry and its workers. This result shows our members agree, and now we must build on what these negotiations achieved.”

With these contracts going into effect August 4, IATSE will continue to educate its members on the new terms and launch an enforcement campaign during the deal’s three year term.

Additionally, IATSE looks to continuing their support the @/Teamsters_399 and the Hollywood Basic Crafts, who remain in Negotiations with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP) — as well as the @/animationguild as their agreement with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP) is set to expire on August 16th.

#iatse #industry things

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niqhtlord01 · 7 months

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Humans are weird: Prank Gone Wrong

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Filnar Go F%$@ Yourself!” was possibly the most disruptive software virus the universe had ever seen.

The program was designed to download itself to a computer, copy the functions of existing software before deleting said software and imitating it, then running its original programming all the while avoiding the various attempts to locate and remove it by security software.

What was strange about such a highly advanced virus was that it did not steal government secrets, nor siphon funds from banking institutions, it ignore critical infrastructure processes, and even bypassed trade markets that if altered could cause chaos on an unprecedented scale. The only thing the software seemed focused on was in locating any information regarding the “Hen’va” species, and deleting it.

First signs of the virus outbreak were recorded on the planet Yul’o IV, but once the virus began to migrate at an increasing rate and latched on to several subroutines for traveling merchant ships things rapidly spiraled out of control. Within a week the virus had infected every core world and consumed all information regarding the Hen’va. It still thankfully had not resulted in any deaths, but the sudden loss of information was beginning to cause other problems.

Hen’va citizens suddenly found that they were not listed as galactic citizens and were detained by security forces on numerous worlds. Trade routes became disrupted as Hen’va systems were now listed as uninhabited and barren leading to merchants seeking to trade elsewhere. Birth records and hospital information for millions of patients were wiped clean as they now pertained to individuals who did not exist.

Numerous software updates and purges were commenced in attempting to remove the virus. Even the galactic council’s cyber security bureau was mobilized for the effort, but if even a single strand of the virus’s code survived it was enough to rebuild itself and become even craftier with hiding itself while carrying out its programming. This was made worse by the high level of integration the various cyber systems of the galaxy had made it so the chance of systems being re-infected was always high.

After ten years every digital record of the Hen’va was erased from the wider universe. All attempts to upload copies were likewise deleted almost immediately leaving only physical records to remain untouched.

To combat this, the Hen’va for all official purposes adopted a new name; then “Ven’dari”. In the Hen’va tongue in means “The Forgotten”, which is rather ironic as the Hen’va have had to abandon everything about their previous culture to continue their existence. The virus had become a defacto component of every computer system in the galaxy and continued to erase all information related to the Hen’va. Even the translator units refused identify the Hen’va tongue and so the Ven’dari needed to create a brand new language.

It wasn’t until another fifty years had passed before the original creator of the virus stepped forward and admitted to their crime. A one “Penelope Wick”.

At the time of the programs creation Ms. Wick was a student studying on Yul’o IV to be a software designer. While attending the institution Ms. Wick stated that a fellow student, a Hen’va named “Filnar”, would hound her daily. He would denounce her presence within the school and repeatedly declared that “what are the scrapings of humans compared to the glory of the Hen’va?”

The virus was her creation as a way of getting back at the student for his constant spite. Ms. Wick was well aware of the dangers it could pose if released into the wild and so had emplaced the limitation that the virus would only infect computers on site with the campus. The schools network was setup that students could only work on their projects within the confines of the institution to ensure they did not cheat and have others make them instead. What she had not counted on was this rule only applied to students and not teachers. So when a teacher brought home several student projects to review and then sharing those infected files with their personal computer, the virus then gained free access to the wider planets networks.

When the Ven’dari learned of this there were several hundred calls for Ms. Wick to be held accountable for her actions, and nearly twice as many made to take her head by less patient individuals who had seen their entire culture erased. Much to their dismay Ms. Wick died shortly after her confession from a long term disease that had ravaged her body for several years.

Much to her delight, she had achieved her goals of removing the source of her mockery.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #story #scifi #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #funny #prank #prank gone wrong #virus

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dannyphantom-zero · 8 months

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Doctor Danny chapter 3

Danny shivered as he drove to work. The feeling of being watched was way creepier than he expected. The worst part, he couldn't tell if it was all in his head or not.

Sometimes when he was younger he had felt like people were always watching him, turned out he was paranoid.

Danny shrugged it off and started work.

The second he was in he was pulled in ten different directions.

Danny had been treating a patient when on the TV the news was showing footage of a live battle. A bomb had gone off and rubble blocked the ambulance from getting to patients.

"NURSE! TAKE OVER" Danny shouted, he ran out of the patients room as soon as the nurse was there. That attack was still happening.

If Danny didn't do something those injured people were going to die.

"DOCTOR! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!" the head of the ward shouted.

"I'LL BE BACK WITH PATIENTS GET BEDS READY!"

The head didn't hesitate. Danny was infamous for not following orders but he never seems to fail a patient.

"You heard him! Get beds ready!"

The nurses and interns scrambled to ready as many rooms as possible.

Danny floored it to the location. A feeling of dread settled onto him. As soon as he hit the first rubble blockage his car door flew open. He started dragging the rubble out of the way.

The news reporter noticed Danny.

"Just coming into the scene, a mysterious unnamed man has jumped into the frey. He appears to be clearing the road."

The camera focused on Danny who had the road almost clear. Danny motioned for the ambulance to get closer.

Danny rushed further into the disaster area. He pulled the rubble off of pinned down citizens. Danny put as many patients as possible in the ambulance.

There were so many. He couldn't wait for another ambulance.

"This man is carrying two people at the same time! He's acting like a superhero!"

The head of the ward stared at the TV back at the hospital.

"Doctor, what are you?" He asked himself in wonder.

Danny had a worker from the ambulance drive his car back, he wasn't done here yet.

He thought he had heard it.

HELP PLEASE SOMEONE PLEASE I CANTBREATHE.

Yes, those were the scrambled screams from someone soul. If a person was put in an extreme situation, their soul in rare cases screamed.

This worked on Damners favor. Danny scanned the area and then he saw it. A mother and her child. The mother had protected the child and got pinned under falling rubble.

Danny hoisted the rubble off from her and thrust it aside.

The women would get more injuries if she were.moved carelessly. Danny grabbed a thick piece of nearby board.

He laid his coat on the board and put both hands under the women securing her. He hoisted her onto the boards and then used his belt to latch her to the makeshift gurney.

Danny was alone on this war front. He really didn't want to carry a critical patient alone but he had no choice.

"Hey kid, you gotta be quick. Run get out of this rubble and to the open street, if you do that I promise I'll get your mom out of here"

He nodded before sprinting away. Thankfully the women wasn't too heavy. Danny picked her up and do his best not to jostle her as he made his way through the wreckage.

They had nearly been out when a peace of cement fell from the sky. Danny quickly adjusted the women and thrust his fist into the concrete. It broke into smaller pieces, none hitting the patient.

Then they were out. Another ambulance was waiting there for him.

He transfered the women to the real gurney and sat on the ambulance. A soon as he got to the hospital he was running from patient to patient doing his best to swiftly treat each one.

The entire time one name kept repeating in his head. Joker.

The villain who had attacked, the villain documented to have taken the most lives. He needed to pay.

Danny sighed. He was standing on the hospital roof, a good place to go and think.

The patients were all stable and thankfully there were no deaths.

Danny drank his canned coffee and headed back in. What he saw was chaos. One of the patients had gone into shock suddenly and without warning.

Danny rushed to the ED with the patient. They started performing emergency surgery. On the end it was futile.

They could not save the patient.

"Time of death 1:23 AM" one of the other doctors said in a solemn tone.

Danny gritted his teeth and stormed out.

"DAAMM EEIIT, AAAAHHH!" Danny screamed once he was on the rooftop.

Tears streamed down his face. He lost a patient because of that damned psychopath!

Danny wiped his tears and made his way to the hospitals morgue.

"Let me see my patient" he had to help the soul pass on, it was his duty.

The soul looked like a cloud of blue mist. It glowed and swirled.

"Go, be in peace" it evaporated and Danny sighed.

"It's time for you to go home Danny, you need to rest. You've been working tirelessly and you just lost a patient"

Danny was frustrated because he knew the head was right. He had to throw away the cost and get a replacement because it was torn to the point that it was unrecognizable.

Danny sat in his car with his head pressed on his hands that were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

His car made a low rumble sound as he drove home. Once he got there he crawled into his sleeping bag and tried to forget.

Jason had been watching the fight, ready to jump in at any moment. Then he saw Danny, the way he had pulled those people out of there.

There was a clip that had been missed by the news. It wasn't a professional camera the way it kept shaking but through all the dust you could see a slab of concrete falling towards Danny and then he just... punched it.

Later he had heard that Danny's patient had died and he knew he needed to make a visit.

No doubt the doctor was blaming himself. He knew what it was like losing someone you were trying to save.

Jason slowly slid open Danny window. It's lock was faulty, he wondered if Danny knew that.

"Danny?"

He didn't respond.

"I know what it's like to lose a person like that, especially to joker"

Danny sat up and looked at Jason with rage burning in his eyes.

"If I ever meet Joker, I will tear his arms off"

Jason stared at Danny for half a second before grabbing his shoulders, "I knew I liked you!"

Jason let go and reached up to take his helmet off.

"Don't!" Danny said grabbing the helmet.

"Danny, I'm going to stalk you whether you know my identity or not"

Danny sighed and let go.

"Okay but what about the other vigilantes identities. Once I know yours, figuring out theirs won't be so difficult"

Jason paused, considering it.

"Meh, they'll be fine"

Danny shook his head.

"When I'm kidnapped and tortured and all of your identities get revealed, it won't be my fault" Danny said.

Jason grinned and took off the helmet.

Danny glanced at Jason. He didn't look half bad in terms of looks, he considered Red Hood to be pretty handsome.

"I don't recognize you at all" Danny said peering closer.

"Really? I'm Jason Todd"

Danny pulled back like he had touched something hot.

That name, Jason Todd was famous for his soul being reborn due to a hazardous pit called the Lazarus Pit. It must be eating away at him, probably destroying his mind.

"Shit" Danny muttered.

"What?" Jason asked.

Danny seemed conflicted.

"I am about to say something that's going to sound, in a word, insane"

Danny paused, "I'm only telling you this because I feel obligated to help you"

"Help me? How?" Jason asked with a sly smirk.

"With your situation" Jason had a blank look on his face.

"The Lazarus Pit that you fell into is contaminated. It's going to damage your brain"

Jason's eyes grew wide and Danny could see the sparks of the contaminated ectoplasm influencing Jason's emotions.

Before Jason could fly into a rage Danny grabbed him.

"Sorry, this is gonna hurt but I have to filter the ectoplasm"

Danny bit Jason's neck finding a vein. He began sucking out the contaminated ectoplasm, replacing with his own. He tried to think of it like a blood transfusion.

Jason was too stunned to do anything. The longer Danny was like that, the calmer Jason felt.

Finally Danny let go. He waited for a horrified look or a demand or anything.

But Jason seemed almost like he was in a trance.

"Jason?"

He snapped out of it, his hand flying to his neck.

"That felt...nice"

Danny sighed.

"I'm half ghost" Danny said.

Jason looked at him like he was dead.

"I was in an accident in my parents lab and sort of died, my DNA was mutated due to ectoplasm. It was the purest form."

"Your half dead?"

Danny nodded, "what I did was filter the Lazarus water and replace it with ectoplasm."

"Am I all good then?"

"Well no. I can't do it all at one time since it's mixed with the blood in your veins. If I did you could die"

Jason smirked.

"Oh noooooo" he said sarcastically, "looks like I'll have to come back"

Danny rolled his eyes.

"So are technically like a vampire ghost then"

"I am not a vampire!" Danny said.

"Sure, sure."

Danny sighed.

"So are gonna leave or what?" Danny asked.

Jason grinned.

"Naw, Imma stay right here"

Danny opened the window.

"Shoo"

Jason put a hand on his heart.

"Wow, I can see how welcome I am"

"I hope so"

Jason shook his head as he climbed out of the window onto the fire excuse, helmet secure on his head.

"You can't get rid of me Danny"

"I know, that's why I'm getting a restraining order"

"What?" Jason asked in alarm. Danny shut the window cutting off Jason's concerned cry.

Now THAT was satisfying.

Jason couldn't stop smiling. His new friend had the cure to his pit rage and had powers. Not only that, he was medically equipped so Jason wouldn't have to go to the hospital ever again!

It also worried him. Danny was too skilled, he was a big target for any villain.

Danny fell asleep and he slept deeply.

Danny was surprised to wake up to something other than his alarm the next day.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #dpxdc #Jason Todd #Red Hood #fanfiction #phandom

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reasonsforhope · 7 months

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The Kenya Wildlife Service celebrated the successful transfer of 21 eastern black rhinos to establish a new viable breeding population for the species that was on the brink of extinction decades ago.

In an 18-day exercise executed by highly trained capture and veterinary experts, the Loisaba Conservancy received the 21 rhinos from three different locations, becoming the 17th sanctuary in Kenya where the mammoth animals can roam and intermingle.

“It’s incredibly exciting to be part of the resettlement of rhinos to a landscape where they’ve been absent for 50 years,” said Tom Silvester, CEO of Loisaba Conservancy.

Kenya had 20,000 black rhinos in the 1970s before poachers decimated them for their horns. By the time the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) was established in 1989, rhino numbers had declined to below 400.

Since then, Kenya’s eastern black rhinos have made a remarkable comeback and today there are an estimated 1,004 individuals.

Kenya is a stronghold of the eastern sub species of black rhino, hosting approximately 80 percent of the entire world’s surviving population.

“Surpassing the milestone of 1,000 rhinos within four decades is a significant accomplishment,” said Munira Bashir, Director of The Nature Conservancy in Kenya.

The reintroduction this month of these 21 animals this month is a great milestone in Kenya’s rhino recovery action plan, and was made possible by support from The Nature Conservancy, San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, other partners—and the three reserves from where the 21 rhinos originated, Nairobi National Park, Ol Pejeta Conservancy and Lewa Conservancy.

“In the recent past, one of the main causes of mortality of rhinos has been territorial fights due to limited space in sanctuaries which has also led to suppressed growth rates due,” explained Dr. Erustus Kanga, the Director General of Kenya Wildlife Service. “I am elated to be associated with this momentous effort to secure more space for this cornerstone species.”

Meanwhile, southern white rhinos continue to thrive in Kenya, having increased from 50 individuals that were imported from South Africa in the eighties and nineties to reach the current population of 971 individuals.

Kenya is also playing a critical role in efforts to save the northern white rhino from extinction, as it is host to the only remaining two females of the species left in the world. The international BioRescue project has developed thirty embryos awaiting implantation into surrogate females within the closely-related subspecies of southern white rhino.

“The return of black rhinos to Loisaba, 50 years after the last known individual here was killed by poachers in the 1970s, is a demonstration of how impactful partnerships between governments and conservation NGOs can be for restoring, managing, and protecting our natural world,” said Dr. Max Graham, CEO and Founder of Space for Giants, one of the project partners.

“And, of course, the return of black rhinos here gives all of us one of the most precious commodities of all: hope.”

-via Good News Network, February 25, 2024

#rhino #rhinoceros #conservation #hope posting #endangered species #wildlife #kenya #good news #hope #zoology #zoo animals #keystone species

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toboldlygohome · 5 months

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My Hero

Leonard McCoy x Reader

Summary: When a ground mission goes south, it's up to you to make sure the doctor makes it back safe and sound.

Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Spock

Warning(s): Violence, Wounds, Cursing, Mild Suggestive Themes, McCoy Complaining

To say things weren't going well would be the understatement of the century. It was supposed to be an easy mission, but that's always how these stories start, huh?

The scanners indicated a series of underground caverns, ones that appeared artificial. Ruins that the archaeology department just couldn't go without exploring. Scanners also claimed there were no life forms within these caverns. The scanners were wrong.

You were the head of security aboard the USS Enterprise. As such, it was your duty to ensure the safety of the crew and perform a risk assessment. Chief Medical Officer McCoy joined you to run some scans, testing for biohazards that would put the ship at risk. Also accompanying you were two other security officers, two engineers to check the structural integrity of the tunnels, a biology officer, and an archaeology officer.

Once the entrance was found, your team discovered that the caverns were actually a sprawling ancient city built in a massive cave system. You also discovered that your communicators weren't working the deeper you traversed the city. If only that were the end of your worries. Two hours into the excursion, a loud echo of rubble falling came from the direction of the entrance. And if that wasn't enough, you were swiftly and brutally attacked by a sizable group of strangers who must have been using the city as a hideout.

In the pandemonium that followed, part of the ceiling came down and cut you off from the rest of the team. It was just you and Dr. McCoy, lost in a labyrinth of ancient ruins and unmapped caves. The doctor was a smart man, a man you greatly respected, a man you were proud to call a friend (for the most part). But he was the last person you would want to be trapped underground with. Complaints came to him as easily as breathing and with every wrong turn, his agitation only grew worse.

"I can't believe this, we just had to explore the underground city and for what? What could we possibly gain from coming down here?" Leonard grumbled.

"Knowledge about a lost civilization? Insight into what it takes for an intelligent species to naturally go extinct?" You suggested as you led him deeper into the city, careful to avoid any traps the armed strangers might have set for you.

"Who cares?! This place is a deathtrap, a goddamned asthma attack waiting to happen! We had no business sticking our nose where it didn't belong, and where did it get us?! I'll tell ya where! Trapped miles underground with an armada of murderous cave dwellers, with no way of contacting the ship!"

"Why don't you complain a little louder doctor, I can still hear myself think. And while you're at it, how about you go ahead and alert all our enemies to our exact location." You snapped, keeping your voice down despite the frustration.

Leonard huffed and looked away from you.

"Look..." You sighed, "I know this situation sucks, but losing our heads isn't going to get us out of here. I'm doing everything in my power to find our team and get back to the ship. I need you to have a little faith in me for once. Can you manage that?" You asked as calmly as possible.

"What the hell do you mean, for once?" Leonard frowned.

You hesitated, unsure if you really wanted to open that can of worms, but he had already worn down your patience. You gave in. "Come on Doctor, it's no secret you have zero trust in me as the Chief Security Officer."

"That's not-"

"There's no point in denying it now. I mean, all you ever do is criticize my work and admonish me for being reckless." You stated cooly, keeping your eyes fixed on the path before you.

"Well, what do you expect me to do when you come back from half your missions with cuts and bruises?" McCoy groused.

"I expect you to do your job and heal me, not tell me how to do mine. I'm a security officer, Injuries are par for the course I'm afraid."

"Doesn't mean you have to throw caution to the wind every chance you get. You volunteer for every single dangerous situation you can find and act surprised when it goes wrong! Seriously, it's like you and Jim have this intense, cosmic desire to play the goddamned hero and be a general pain in my ass. Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe seeing you like that bothers me?"

"You know what bothers me doctor?" You turned to look at him. "The fact that I have undergone rigorous self defense training in four kinds of martial arts, various forms of aerial combat, tech weapons, as well as training in tracking, risk assessment, reconnaissance, and mediation; yet, you still think so lowly of me as an officer that you think I'm the type of person who throws caution to the wind. I'm not careless, I don't take unnecessary risks. I want to live for a long time, but more than that, I want you and the crew to live for a long time. If that means I get bumped around every so often, that's fine by me. Of course I volunteer for all the missions. I'm the Chief Security Officer. If I wasn't the most qualified person for the job, I wouldn't be the CSO." An unreadable expression passed over Leonard's face as you spoke. "Now I'm going to do what I came down here for, and you're just going to have to be okay with that because I don't know what else I can say to get you to believe in me."

A muscle feathered in Leonard's jaw as you turned around and started walking again. The two of you had your fair share of lighthearted quarreling before, but you had never been so... angry at him.

You were right of course, danger was a part of your job and it wasn't fair of him to criticize you for being dedicated. The ship has known a lot less casualties since you arrived. In fact, your presence has made his job easier. But every time you returned to the ship battered and bleeding, Leonard grew more afraid that next time you wouldn't come back at all.

Bones had allowed his feelings for you to get in the way of his professionalism, and if your reaction was anything to go by, perhaps even your friendship as well.

You normally got along quite well. You'd share meals during breaks and join him after hours for a drink. Leonard always found it strange you never talked about your work with him, but he always chalked it up to you just needing a break from your job. Instead you both talked about your hobbies, plans for the future, memories from the past, pretty much anything and everything but your job. The only times you ever had disagreements were when you came back hurt after a mission. He always assumed you understood that his comments about your recklessness came from a place of care and concern. In retrospect, it was a stupid thing to assume.

Leonard needed to apologize, to clear up this terrible misunderstanding before your resentment grew into something unfixable.

"Y/N, I'm-"

"Shh-" You froze and held your hand up, signaling him to stop.

Leonard froze as well. Everything was quiet... too quiet. His eyes darted to you. Your hands inched toward your phaser like you were anticipating an attack he had yet to detect. You stayed that way for a few moments, eyes darting this way and that. Eventually, you relaxed your shoulders and turned back to Bones with a finger to your lips. Leonard nodded and you were both on your way again.

He had never seen you in action before. In all the time you had been on the ship together, he'd never had the pleasure of seeing first hand how you dealt with a crisis on foreign soil. He could see now how you had made such a difference. You were level-headed and confident. Even after your little spat, you were doing your job to keep him safe so diligently. Bones also noticed how quiet you were. If you weren't right in front of him, he might not have even known you were there. He watched as you expertly avoided shuffling your feet and kicking rocks. He made sure to step where you were stepping, or at least he tried to.

Leonard felt the ground give under his feet and he instantly knew he fucked up.

"God dam- AHHH!" Something snapped tight around his ankle and he hit the ground hard. Leonard felt the wind being abruptly pushed from his lungs and he couldn't decide what scared him more, the rope dragging him across the ground to god knows where, or the fact he couldn't catch his breath.

"Shit!" You gasped and pulled out your phaser. "Leonard, hold on!" You sprinted after him and shot at the rope, but it was hard to hit such a small target. Then you saw his destination. There was a massive ravine at the end of the chamber. No time for thinking.

You planted your feet firmly on the ground and aimed at the rope. You clenched your jaw hard and shot.

The beam flew.

Leonard watched the light sever the rope, just in time!

He came skidding to a stop right at the lip of the cliff.

Bones was lost in a daze of adrenaline, but luckily you had the presence of mind to drag him back.

"Doctor? Len, are you okay?" You crouched beside him and took his face in your hands.

"Just peachy! What the hell happened?!" Bones groaned and sat up, with your assistance of course.

"Looks like you activated a trap, doc." You frowned.

"How's my back?" He winced.

"You got some skid marks, but it looks like your uniform did a pretty good job protecting you. I think you'll live." You said gently. Leonard administered a hypospray to himself and you helped him up.

Looking down in the chasm, you shook your head and huffed. "Looks like we're gonna have to find another way down. Why don't you take a breather and I'll look around?"

"Breather my ass," Leonard grumbled, "You just want me out of the way so I don't step on any more goddamned traps."

"Hey, you said it. Not me," You joked.

"At least have the courtesy to deny it!" He scoffed.

You laughed and handed him your communicator, "Here, yours got all busted during your tumble. Keep trying to get in contact with the Enterprise and I'll be back before you know it. Just don't touch anything. Think you can handle that?"

"Just get out of here before I schedule all your vaccinations for tomorrow." He scowled and fiddled with the communicator.

You snickered and went on your way.

Leonard grumbled to himself as he tried to get a signal. Dammit, he was a doctor! Not an engineer! After ten minutes of nothing, he huffed and ran a hand over his face. It was no use, they were in too deep. Their only hope of rescue would be that the captain realized something was off and sent a team after them.

In the meantime, he was at least happy to have some alone time with you-

"I think I found a way down," you said, startling the doctor so badly he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Dammit Y/L/N," He stood and dusted off his rear end, "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"You say that like it's a difficult thing to accomplish," you smirked.

"You're hilarious. Why are we going down anyway, isn't that the opposite of what we want to do?" Leonard scowled.

"Down is the only direction left to go. It's not ideal, but it's all we have. I also heard talking coming from the bottom of that chasm. It's not in a language I understand, which means it's likely the cave dwellers. If they're hanging out down there, it probably means there's a path that loops back around. We'll have to keep quiet though, don't want them to know we're following."

Leonard's heart betrayed him and decided to start beating faster of its own accord. Sure, he found it really attractive when you showed off your intelligence. Of course he thought it was enticing when you spoke confidently, like the universe bowed to your whim. Did that mean he wanted to be spellbound by your endless charisma in such a dire situation? Hell, maybe he did. He wasn't even sure anymore...

"Sound good, doctor?"

He thought back to your... conversation about him having no faith in you. "Sounds great. Lead the way," he replied.

~~~

The path down was thin and arduous. The stairs could hardly be considered stairs anymore. It was more like a damp slide made of mineral buildup. Leonard was also beginning to realize he needed to do some more intense leg workouts. There was an exercise routine that all crew members were required to follow. But regardless of the shape he was in, his ass was burning! Time to up the incline on the treadmill.

You, however, were doing just fine. Not a single slip in the wet terrain. He could tell you were moving slower to keep Leonard from falling behind, which was only slightly embarrassing.

At the bottom of the ancient waterslide, there was a pool of questionable depth. Leonard cursed under his breath. The water was dark and so was everything else, even with their flashlights. They could walk right into a 400 foot drop and they wouldn't even know it. At least the waterfall flowing nearby would mostly drown out their screams.

You turned to Leonard and held your hand out to him. Thank god it was dark, you would have seen his face light up like the fourth of July! His blush only grew when you leaned in close to his ear. "Stay close. We're gonna take it slow," you whispered. He nodded and grasped your hand tight.

You waded into the freezing water and pulled McCoy along with you. Taking careful, controlled steps forward, you searched the floor for holes. The two of you moved at a snail's pace, but Leonard hardly cared. Better to be slow and steady than fast and... reckless.

You suddenly stopped, causing McCoy's chest to slam into your back. You flailed, teetering on some unseen edge. You tried to push him back, but Leonard's arms found your waist and pulled you into him.

"Dammit. Are you okay?"

"Peachy," you huffed. "Found a hole.''

"I figured," he slowly let go and tried to peer into the water. He saw nothing but darkness. Terrifying. God damned terrifying.

"How good are you at swimming?" you asked.

"Good when I can see where I'm going."

"Want to brave the waters, or go around?"

"I'd rather not have my pants and my shirt wet if I can help it."

"Go around it is."

Turns out the hole was huge. It took a long time to trace the perimeter, but eventually you ended up on the other side. You were both dripping and freezing, but at least you weren't drowning victims. Always look on the bright side.

Once you cleared the roar of the waterfall, it was back to silence. The alien voices were getting louder and louder with each step. Leonard wouldn't be surprised if they stumbled on a gaggle of them just around the corner. You kept your phaser in hand just in case. Leonard had his out as well... but he was a doctor, not a gunslinger.

The path slowly grew more steep, traveling upward like a real-life stairway to heaven. Huh... They had to go down... to go up... Leonard wondered why anyone would design a path this way. The corridor ended in a sharp turn, which you had the presence of mind to investigate before barreling in like you owned the place. There was an alcove with five unknown people of indiscernible origin. The one thing you were sure of was that they were not Human, Vulcan, Romulan, Ferengi, Klingon, or Andorian. In fact, these guys had four arms each, so you were able to rule out a great deal of species.

Normally, you would turn around and find a different route, but this was the only way forward. Leonard watched as you checked to ensure your phaser was on the stun setting. Nope, he did not like this one bit. What if you missed?! Were you really going to take on five people at once? He grabbed your arm and shook his head. You frowned and leaned into his ear once again. "There's no other way. I don't like it either... Stay back."

McCoy reluctantly did as you said. You outranked him. He didn't really have a choice. You stepped out from around the corner and shot off exactly five blasts. The doctor didn't see the beams make contact, but he did see the aftermath and... goddamn...

"Shit, darlin'," he placed his hands on his hips as he glanced over the room. "Remind me never to piss you off."

You holstered your phaser. "We should keep going... Could you give them a scan, doctor? Just to make sure I didn't... you know."

"Say no more, I'll have this done in a jiffy."

You snorted, "jiffy?"

"Don't even start."

"Adorable," you smiled and started collecting the weapons that had been haphazardly strewn on the floor.

McCoy nearly dropped his scanner.

'Come on man, get yourself together! You're a doctor for crying out loud! Act like one!'

Leonard shook his head of all thoughts regarding the implications of your one-word compliment. Instead, he focused on the readings of the scan. Oh, looks like these people are Kaviran. Kavirans are an endangered species of nomadic planet-hoppers. They're increasingly rare to find, no wonder he didn't know who they were at a glance. All five of them seemed to be in good health.

"I reckon they'll be just fine," Leonard stood and attempted to dust off his pants. It just smeared in like mud because the fabric was still damp.

"I reckon we better be on our way then," you smirked. While he was working, you hid the weapons... somewhere. Leonard was so caught up in the scans that he didn't see where you stashed them.

Leonard trailed behind you once again, but you had picked up the pace. He wasn't complaining per se, the sooner you got out of here, the better. The hard thing was realizing just how tired he was. What time was it? How long had they been down here? Surely Jim had noticed something was off by now!

McCoy cursed under his breath and pulled out your communicator he borrowed earlier... still no signal.

"Damn useless hunk of junk," the doctor grumbled.

"Still nothing?"

"Nothing. Seriously, what's the point in carrying these things around if they never work when you need them to?"

You nodded in agreement. "At least this might push Starfleet to do an overhaul of our coms technology. We needed one, like... yesterday," you chuckled.

"You can say that again... And while they're at it, they can update our ship's scanners. This place was supposed to be empty, remember?" McCoy raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be sure to put it in my report, along with a request for waterproof shoes," you grinned back at him.

"You know, I could go for a hot shower right about now," Leonard hummed.

"Head out of the clouds please, doctor."

"My head is currently as far from the clouds as it could possibly be. I'm 2,576 meters underground."

"Where'd you pull that number from?" you chuckled.

"My ass," he grumbled.

"That sounds very unsanitary, doc."

"Well, I would have pulled it out of my medical bag, but I lost it during the cave-in."

"Oh yeah, I thought you were missing somethi- Wait... where did you get the hypo from?" you turned to look at him.

"Hypo?" he asked.

"When you got caught in the trap, you gave yourself a hypospray to help with the pain. Where did you get it from?" you asked incredulously.

"Sweetheart, a good doctor always keeps a backup in his pocket. Especially when you've been a field medic as long as I have," Leonard said.

"And how long is that?" you chuckled.

"Never ask a man his age," Leonard winked. His eyes were probably playing tricks on him... but he could have swore he saw you blush. You turned away before he could confirm his suspicions.

"I'll just look it up in your file later," you teased.

"Isn't that a breach of conduct?" the doctor huffed.

"I'll be evaluating a security risk."

"Security risk?"

"Absolutely. Can't have a dinosaur operating on the crew~"

"We're the same age, smart-ass."

"Damn, doctor. You look good for your age." You turned and winked back at him.

Now it was Leonard's turn to be flustered. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times like a fish out of water, unable to form a sentence that would make even a lick of sense. McCoy finally settled on rolling his eyes and turning his attention to the cave walls. You just laughed and faced forward again.

With how you were acting, Leonard could almost believe things were normal, that he was not hundreds of feet underground. He could almost believe he was back on the Enterprise, playing darts with you in the recreation room... He could almost believe everything was okay between you.

He had been feeling it since, have a little faith in me for once, fell from your lips. McCoy had been a doctor for years, he knew what bedside manner looked like. You were trying to keep him at ease, pretending everything was fine... but it wasn't. The jokes... the smiles... they were all just tools for de-escalation. He thought through what he had said earlier about you coming back with all the cuts and bruises. He meant what he said, it does bother him... But it wasn't what he wanted to say.

He wanted to tell you that he trusts you, that he always will. He wanted to say that... that you're the bravest person he's ever met. He wanted to take it all back. Instead of calling you reckless, he should have said that seeing you in pain hurts him more than any physical wound he'd ever had.

He should have said, I'm sorry...

He could do it now. Was now the right time? When is it appropriate to apologize? When was it not? God, Leonard was such a mess. Why was it so hard to just say sorry?! It wasn't his pride getting in the way! If it was, he wouldn't even be able to admit any wrongdoing! 'Just say it you bastard! Tell them! It's on the tip of your tongue!'

"Y/N?"

"Yes, doctor?"

He didn't have time to speak. A deep, aggressive tone echoed down the dripping cave halls. It sounded like... a war horn? You turned back to look in the direction you just came from with a grave expression.

"Len, you're gonna have to hold that thought."

~~~

He couldn't quite remember when he started running, but down the narrow passage he flew, stumbling occasionally over uneven terrain. The wind screamed in his ears. Leonard was sure he had never run so fast in his life. You were right behind him, letting him set the pace, never passing him by. He wasn't sure how long he had been going for, but his lungs burned and his legs shook with every stride. He could stand for hours during surgery, but running nonstop through a cave was a whole different ballgame for him.

Leonard could hear yelling and heavy footfalls, but was unsure of which direction they were coming from. Were they being followed, or were they running into a trap? He found his answer soon enough when he skidded to a halt in front of twenty Kavirans... twenty-one actually. Then, when he thought the situation couldn't get any worse, the five Kavirans you left behind in the tunnel came up from the rear. You were boxed in. Two against twenty-six.

You pulled McCoy behind you, phaser poised to shoot at a moment's notice. It wouldn't do him much good when the cave-dwellers decided to attack, but he appreciated the sentiment.

"Humans. Lower your weapons and you will be left unharmed." One of the Kavirans said in gurgly English.

"I will not lower my weapon until your colleagues all do the same." You said cooly.

"To make this stand would be foolish. Lower your weapon," the Kaviran you assumed was the leader reiterated.

"It is against policy to lower my weapon until I have ensured the safety of the crew in my care."

"You attacked our people in our own home. You are in no place to bargain."

"You attacked us unprovoked shortly after we arrived. If we had known this place was occupied, we would have left it alone. We were on a scientific excursion. There was no intent to do you any harm-"

"And yet, five of my people have been ambushed." The leader gestured with one of his four hands to the slightly disoriented aliens behind you.

"I have no desire to fight you. Let us pass and we will leave you in peace." You seemed to realize it at the same time Leonard did. Discussion was futile. They wanted to kill you while putting in the least amount of effort possible. If you had no weapon to fight back with, what threat could you possibly pose?

"Lower your weapon," the leader scowled.

Leonard watched your shoulders tense. You raised your chin and narrowed your eyes at the Kaviran. "Doctor?" you said.

"What is it, Y/L/N?" Leonard clenched his jaw.

"Duck."

It took him a whole three-fourths of a second to register what you were asking of him, then he hit the deck.

You Immediately opened fire, taking down six Kavirans in a matter of seconds. You missed the seventh when your wrist was seized by one of the alien's long sticks, which clamped around your arm like the jaw of a beast and flipped you onto your back. You wrenched the stick out of his hand and snapped the shin of the guy beside you.

A heavy boot just barely missed your head. You ripped the weapon from your arm and swiped it under the legs of the assailant, driving your elbow into his ribs when he hit the ground.

Someone is on you. It's a mess of limbs. Four arms to your two. Your fist rattles his jaw. Once. Twice. Again.

He's on his back, your legs straddling his stomach as you wail on him. Four hands are on your shoulders. You grab two by the wrist and twist them out with a disgusting crunch.

Something burns in your shoulder as you stand. Leonard is on the ground, clawing at an alien's eyes with one hand, reaching for his phaser with the other. You grab the Kaviran by her hair and rearrange her face with your fist.

You're blinded by a sharp pain in your temple and the sound of phaser blasts barely breaks through the ringing. Bracing yourself on a rock, you catch your breath, but only for a second. A dodge, you grab the alien's stick and clock him in the stomach, then lock him in a choke hold with it. His four arms out-maneuver yours and the weapon is pulled from your hands.

Two more guys join in. A scramble for power ensues. You endure a barrage of punches. These guys are relying on arms. You force one into the wall with your shoulder and catch another in the spine with your foot.

Heavy breathing.

Shots are ringing out. The caves are dark and the only light is from the phaser, the laser guns, and the abandoned flashlights being kicked around the cave floor in the chaos.

The rest is over and your forehead clashes with an alien skull. Your side rips open on a rock as you fall to the ground, but you don't stay down for long. You decide to go for a new tactic, less hitting, more kicking.

One of them goes for a punch, you block with your forearm and bring your knee to her side before planting a swift kick to the face. The caves echo the sound of grunts and groans, fists and feet hitting flesh, and gunfire. You don't know where your phaser is, but you could really use it right about now.

Your eyes are starting to swell and everyone is starting to tire. You're relieved to see Leonard taking cover behind a rock column. You take another down, then another. Leonard is under heavy fire. If you can get the gunmen off him, then he will be free to stun the others into submission.

You run for the first gunman and surprise him with three well placed kicks, the other fires on you and misses miserably. You reward him with a broken nose and a dirt nap.

Your attention is occupied by four Kavirans, who lunge at you all at once. You're overpowered by the strength of their doubled limbs. One is holding down your arms, two more have subdued your powerful legs, and the last is destroying your face. You manage to yank one arm free to land a few hits on your main attacker, but it doesn't last long. Four hands are crushing your neck and-

Silence.

They all slump to the floor.

You lay there, too tired to fight the dead weight of the alien on top of you.

It wasn't until Leonard appeared like an angel sent from the heavens, that you finally remembered how to breathe. He pushed the guy off you and cradled your bloody face in his hands.

"Y/N? Darlin', can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, doc," your voice came out as a dry rasp.

McCoy pulled a hypo from his pocket. "That's really good sweetheart, can you tell me where the pain is?"

"Everywhere hurts. My legs are sore, but I can walk. My head and my ribs feel the worst. Something is definitely broken." you cleared your throat.

"I'm thinkin' you're right... any numbness?"

"Yeah, some down my right arm and near my ribs and chest." you gestured with your slightly-less-injured left arm.

"Nerve damage, nothing I can do about that until we're back on the ship," Bones hung his head and sighed in defeat. That was when you noticed a small stream of blood trickling down the side of his face. You reached up and tenderly tried to brush it away with your thumb, but you only managed to smear it.

"You're hurt... I'm sorry-" you started.

"I'm hurt?! You-" Leonard's voice betrayed him. Doctors were supposed to exude a sense of calm, but he just couldn't keep it in this time. "You're laying here in a pool of your own blood and you're worried about me?!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you have incredible bedside manner?" you winced and tried to sit up, but he pushed you back down.

"Don't. You. Even. Dare," he narrowed his eyes at you, pulled out his tri-corder, and snatched one of the rogue flashlights from the floor. The scan results made him want to rip his hair out. Your whole body was basically covered in one big bruise. Five broken ribs, a broken nose, several major lacerations, laser wounds, and a massive concussion. That wasn't even close to all of it, but one thing at a time.

He injected you with his last spare hypospray. Leonard really wished he had his goddamned kit right about now. The gashes in your side needed to be closed somehow. You were losing too much blood with the wound open like that. No auto-suture, no thread and needle, no bandages. There was only one option. Cauterization.

"Stay," Leonard ordered before grabbing a laser off of a fallen Kaviran and one of the metal sticks from the floor. The doctor blasted the end of the rod until it was red-hot and settled beside you again.

"That doesn't look fun," you pursed your lips.

"It won't be. It's going to hurt... a lot," Bones said.

"Great," you huffed and leaned back into the dirt.

"Lucky for you, Spock gave me some good practice with this method a few years ago. It'll be quick, I promise," he tried to reassure you.

"Yeah, yeah. Just get it over with, please."

"Deep breath in," Leonard whispered soothingly. You squeezed your eyes shut and did as he asked. He peeled back your red shirt and pressed the scorching metal to your skin before he could second guess himself. The sounds of agony you made were torture to his ears. The seconds felt like hours, but eventually the screams fell away to quiet shivers and pants.

McCoy used his sleeve to wipe away some of the blood on your abdomen. No new blood replaced it, meaning he successfully closed it! "All done, sweetheart. No more..." He tossed the rod away and held your face in his soft hands again.

"Well..." you caught your breath. "That wasn't so bad... I don't suppose you have any water in those magical pockets of yours?" you asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not," McCoy's eyes softened when they fell on you.

"It's fine, maybe I can ring out my pants and drink the water from our little swim earlier..." you joked.

Leonard sighed and shook his head, "Darlin', you are a force to be reckoned with..." He brought the cuff of his uniform to your cheek and tenderly wiped away whatever blood he could. Your face was swelling around the Orbital and Zygomatic regions. He could see it in your eyes... you were in a lot of pain and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. His med-kit was miles away, somewhere under several feet of debris.

"Where's my phaser?" you lifted your head, but he gently urged you back down.

"Easy there tiger, take a breather. I'll find it," McCoy groaned as he stood up. The hypo he used earlier for his back was starting to wear off. He must have been down here a lot longer than he realized.

The doctor scoured the floor for your phaser, but everything was so dark and his flashlight was getting low on power. After close to five minutes of searching, he swiped one of the enemy's lasers from the floor and brought it back to you. "Sorry, I know you aren't a fan of deadly weapons, but this is all we got."

You took a deep, shaky breath and forced yourself into a sitting position. "Let's hope I don't have to use it then..." you winced and placed the weapon in your holster. "We should get moving. These guys aren't gonna stay down for long."

Leonard nodded and brought your left arm around his shoulder, bracing your waist with his gentle hands. "Alright, up we go... Easy, easy. That was only a temporary fix back there..." he whispered. Slowly, Dr. McCoy eased you into a standing position. Almost immediately, your vision swam and your body sank against his.

"Oh..." you muttered, closing your eyes against the spinning room.

"Y/N? Talk to me. What are you feeling?"

"This is a bad concussion... the worst I've had. I feel like I'm sideways, standing on the wall instead of the floor."

"Okay, try taking a step for me."

You opened your eyes and took a step forward, but your upper body swayed to the side, attempting to account for the imaginary tilt. You probably would've fallen on your face if McCoy weren't there to catch you.

"Well, darlin' I gotta hand it to you. If you were any more off-center, you'd be the damned tower of Pisa"

"Leave me here... you need to go and find the others. I'll just slow you down."

"Out of the question. If the roles were switched, would you leave me behind?" McCoy raised his eyebrow disapprovingly.

"That's differen-"

"You and I both know that's a load of hooey. I'm not leaving you. End of story. Now sit here for a minute, while I figure something out."

You begrudgingly sat down on a rock, with Leonard's help of course, and watched as he paced for a few moments. You supposed he must have come up with something, because he stole a scarf from one of the aliens and started tying it around himself in various ways. You eventually decided to close your eyes. While you always enjoyed looking at the handsome doctor, your sense of vertigo was making it rather unbearable.

"Alright, I've got a plan, but it won't feel too good on your ribs."

"Great..." you mumbled, keeping your eyes shut.

"I'll try to be gentle-"

"I know Len... We're short on options and you're doing your best. It'll be okay... I trust you, " you offered him a smile. His heart did back-flips in his chest and it took everything in him not to tell you he loved you right then and there! Instead, he wrapped the scarf around you, hoping the extra support would make it easier to carry you long distance.

"Okay darlin', I'm gonna pick you up now... Is that okay?"

"I'm ready, go ahead," you said.

The moment your chest made contact with his back, you felt a wave of nausea-inducing pain all through your body. You pressed your face into his shoulder and tried not to make any noise. Leonard hoisted you up, hands clutching your thighs.

"How're you doing back there?" Leonard turned his head so you could hear him.

"Been better..." you managed. "Let's get moving doc, before I throw up on you or something."

"Wouldn't want that, would we?" he started walking away from the carnage at a brisk pace. His back was screaming at him, but he had no intention of putting you down. You winced at every sharp movement, so he tried to keep all shaking or bouncing to a minimum.

The path was tortuously uphill, with a few straightaways between that gave him some reprieve. Eventually, the cave walls gave way to carved buildings. The flashlight he had attached to his shirt was growing dimmer, so he was thankful for the more predictable pattern of the ancient roadways. All was quiet except for the shuffling of feet and running water. That was, until you spoke up.

"Hey Leonard?" you whispered. Your hot breath caused Bones to shiver.

"Yeah? What is it, do you need a break?" he asked

He felt you nod against his shoulder. You must be exhausted. Fatigue was common with concussions. He just needed to make sure you stayed awake until he could get you into a bio-bed.

"Just hold on a little bit longer, I think I hear a stream up ahead. Maybe we can get you that water you were asking for, huh?" he suggested.

You nodded again.

McCoy picked up the pace a little and started following the sound of the water. As luck would have it, they found what must have once been a beautiful fountain. Over the years, the water pouring from the ceiling ate away at whatever carving had been there. The fountain was now nothing more than a circular pool being fed by a small waterfall, but presentation matters not when you're as thirsty as a riverbed in a drought.

Leonard eased you onto the lip of the pool and leaned you back against a stone structure that probably used to be a retaining wall. He sat the scarf to the side and pulled out his tri-corder again. A quick scan informed him that the water was safe to drink. McCoy washed his mitts in the basin before cupping them under the waterfall. Once full, he brought them to your lips and urged you to drink.

He did this a few times until you seemed satisfied, only then did he allow himself a few sips. Bones stretched out his legs and cursed under his breath. His whole body felt like lead. He was sure you were enjoying the break too. That pressure on your chest must have been terrible, even with the medicine dulling the pain. Yet, you never complained. Not even once. He wished you would lean on him, let him give you some comfort. Instead, you were probably bracing for him to make some unsolicited comments about you and your work.

Leonard was pulled from his reverie when you tilted toward the water with the intent to cleanse yourself of the caked on blood. Your face contorted in discomfort and you pressed back against the wall. You took a moment to collect yourself and tried again, but McCoy stopped you with a soothing squeeze of the shoulder. "Let me do it..."

"Leonard, you don't-"

"You took down the quad-armed madmen, now it's my turn. You did your part... Let me do mine." He peered at you with those gorgeous hazel eyes and you were powerless to refuse. You nodded and leaned your head back against the rock.

He knelt in front of you and took your hands into his. Leonard's palms were soft and tender... the hands of a healer. Yours were bloody and busted and callused. You weren't sure it should be legal for you to touch someone like him. He didn't bend you toward the water. Instead, he got his hands wet and wiped away the stains using slow, circular motions. The cold water felt nice against the scrapes on your knuckles.

Bones was always gentle with you, even if he wasn't pleased with you. To be honest, it was one of the things you most looked forward to when you got back from a long mission. Amidst all the uncertainties in the universe, the one thing you could always count on was Leonard. You could count on a southern metaphor and a few well-placed medical jokes to keep you from falling apart at the seams. His smile, his voice, his touch... they were your anchor.

He should have left you behind. He probably would have made it to safety by now, but he was stubborn as a mule. No amount of arguing would shake him when his mind was made up. You couldn't decide whether you loved that about him or hated it.

You loved it, of course you did... You loved everything about him. No point in denying it now. You needed him safe, not here taking care of you.

"Leonard, I need you to do something for me..." you said.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he whispered in that drawl you loved so much.

"I need you to go and find the others," you murmured, peering at him through half-lidded eyes.

His hands ceased all movement and he looked at you with an ambivalent expression... the one he always wore when he was about to scold you. You sighed and braced for the impact.

"Are you out of your mind? I can't leave you here! It's not safe!" he furrowed his brows at you.

"That's exactly why I need you to go. I've put you in danger long enough. I'm not getting any better Leonard, I'm slowing you down."

"I'm not leaving," he glared at your hands as he washed them.

"Why do you always have to do this?" your voice shook.

Leonard froze.

"Why can't you just trust me? I'm trying to keep you safe! I've become a detriment to your survival. You have to leave me. Please. Just one time... I don't want to argue anymore... I just want you to live... I love you, dammit!" Tears carved a path through your bloodstained face.

Leonard's throat burned as he struggled not to cry. You meant it... He could see it in your eyes, hear it in the desperation in your voice. You were at your breaking point. The cool and confident Y/N was gone. He couldn't be a coward anymore. It was time to just come out and say it. But when he tried, all that came out was a remorseful croak. No. He had to show you.

Bones cradled the sides of your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. His body moved of its own accord, desperate to get closer. His breath hitched when your fingers snaked into his hair, your touch sent a wave of goosebumps down his arms. The kiss was clumsy, full of bumping foreheads and clashing noses in the dark. But despite the messiness of it all, he wanted nothing more than this moment to last forever.

The eagerness slowly melted into soft, slow kisses. Finally, Leonard pulled away, eyes swimming with regret. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks. His lips quivered on the edge of speaking.

"I can't leave you... I can't do it... I trust you... I don't think you're reckless, or foolhardy, or whatever else I've said through the years. You're a hero! My hero, and I think you're incredible at everything you do. You're the best damned CSO we've ever had on the Enterprise and I should have been tellin' you that all along," McCoy shook his head. "I'm sorry I led you to believe I thought you were anything less than perfect... I love you, Y/N... Don't ask me to leave you behind..." he pleaded.

McCoy's breath caught in his throat when you lightly grabbed his wrist. His eyes glinted off the ever-dimming flashlight, giving the illusion that stars were suspended within.

Your attention darted over to his hands... his impossibly soft hands. You allowed yourself the privilege of intertwining your fingers with his.

"Y/N?"

"Have I ever told you that you have beautiful hands?" You murmured tiredly.

"Can't say you have..." he whispered breathlessly.

"Well, you do... You've held my life in them so many times... You're my hero too..." you hummed and closed your eyes. You brushed your slightly-chapped lips over his knuckles, making Leonard melt to the core.

"Y/N..."

"It looks like we've reached an impasse... I love you too much to let you stay... You love me too much to leave..." You murmured against his fingers.

"Then I guess it's time we came up with a compromise..." Leonard whispered. You opened your mouth to respond, but an unexpected voice took you both by surprise.

"That is incorrect doctor, no compromise will be needed."

You had your laser out in a matter of seconds and Leonard had his flashlight aimed at the stranger. In the dim lighting, you could see that the person wasn't actually a stranger. It was Spock!

"What the- What- Spock?! How long have you been standing there?!" McCoy bellowed.

"Since you informed Commander Y/L/N that you love them," Spock raised an eyebrow and stepped closer.

"Dammit, Spock! Why didn't you say something?!"

"I felt it would be rude to interrupt-"

"Nevermind that. I need you to go get a stretcher and bring it here! Y/N is badly injured!" Instead of leaving like Bones expected, Spock pulled out his communicator. "Spock, that thing doesn't work down he-"

"Spock to field team. I need a stretcher at my location. I have left a trail for you to follow. Yes. Yes, I will inform them," the Vulcan closed his communicator and resumed his signature resting pose with his hands behind his back, "The medical team is on their way here with a stretcher and supplies."

"Now the communicator works!" Leonard threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Have you found the rest of the crew?" You asked, hope evident in your tired voice.

"Your team all made it out alive, Commander. Minimal injuries. They were placed under heavy surveillance, likely with the intention to sell our officers in an underground market. They managed to escape when a horn sounded. Several Kavirans left to investigate, leaving only two guards. Security officers Lewis and Elfan dispatched them quickly and led the others to safety. By the time they made it back to the entrance, rescue personnel had blasted their way in. They are resting in the medbay as we speak."

You released a sigh of relief and sagged against the stone. You could finally breathe easy knowing your team was alright. "Thank you, Spock."

"How far are we from the surface?" McCoy asked.

"2.414 kilometers," Spock replied.

"A mile and a half?! We were almost there?!"

"No doctor, you were going in the wrong direction. It is fortunate I found you when I did."

McCoy shot him a glare and returned his attention to you. "How are you feeling sweetheart? Do you need anything?"

"I need a nap..." you tried to smile.

"You can have one when we get back to the Enterprise. Think you can hold on a bit longer for me?"

"For you doc, I'd do anything," you winked.

Leonard blushed and smiled. "You're damn near ready to pass out and you're trying to make me weak in the knees~"

"You say that like it's a difficult thing to accomplish, doctor..." you whispered and shivered. The loss of blood had taken down your body temperature by a significant amount.

McCoy settled beside you on the floor, hissing as his scraped back made contact with the cool stone. You tucked yourself into his side and snickered.

"What?" he frowned.

"You smell terrible," you smirked back.

"Then why are you moving closer to me?"

"I'm hoping if I sit close to you, you'll kiss me again~" you joked.

Leonard didn't dare look at the Vulcan standing a few feet away. He didn't look at you either. He just sat there, practically steaming from the embarrassment.

"It was a joke, doctor," you teased.

Bones let out a sigh of relief.

"Jeez, don't sound too disappointed," You laughed and winced as a jolt ran through your ribs.

"you wanna kiss me that bad?" he asked.

"I've only been wanting to for like... a year," you shrugged.

He leaned close, his lips ghosted over your ear. "Don't worry darlin'. Once you're all healed up, you can have me all to yourself..." he drawled in a whisper.

Your face lit up like a wildfire. You were amazed at how quickly he had turned the tables on you...

At least you weren't cold anymore.

~~~

It took thirty minutes for the medical team to arrive with a stretcher and thirty more minutes to exit the cave. Almost as soon as the moonlight hit your face, you were beamed up onto the ship. You barely had a second to greet the Captain before you and Leonard were whisked away to the medbay. Due to the injuries McCoy sustained during his time underground, he was not permitted to operate on you. Dr. M'Benga took wonderful care of you and within the week, they allowed you to rest in your own room.

Leonard made regular house calls and sat by your side most nights after his shift. He was determined to help you make a swift recovery.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye, admiring the shadows his tousled brown hair was casting on his face. The doctor was trying not to doze off and failing miserably. It was a mesmerizing sight.

"You're staring, Darlin'," he murmured and peeked an eye open at you.

"Stop being so pretty and I'll stop staring," you shrugged. He rolled his eyes, but the blush gave him away. For his sake, you decided to change the subject. "You know, doctor... I never said thank you."

"Thank me? for what?" he asked.

"For saving my life..."

"You don't need to-"

"I do. It's not easy... your job, I mean. People like me, the fighters, get all the spotlight, but you put yourself on the line... carried me to safety. I saved your life once... You've saved mine... I don't even know how many times," your eyes softened. "Thank you for everything... "

Leonard stared at you for a moment before leaning in and kissing you softly. A sentry and a surgeon. The ultimate pair. After years of dancing around each other, you finally gave in.

Your doctor pulled away with a lazy grin and tucked your head under his chin. "There you go again, wooing me with your endless charisma."

"Says the man who's filled to the brim with southern charm."

"At least I don't use my charm as a means to get what I want."

"How else was I supposed to get your attention with you falling asleep over there?~"

"You could have asked nicely. Haven't you ever heard of the word, please?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Don't you worry darlin', you'll learn soon enough," he smirked against your temple.

You halfheartedly smacked McCoy's chest. "Slow down there, cowboy. My ribs are still broken," you sassed.

"Just giving you an incentive to heal quicker," he kissed your head and pulled you closer.

"Mhm..." you closed your eyes and listened to his steady heartbeat. A month ago, you could have only dreamed of holding him like this... of being held. Now he was here, tracing shapes on your shoulder with his delicate fingertips.

"Y/N?"

"Len?" you smiled, eyes still closed.

"I hope you know that I'd do it again... a billion times over," he said. You knew what he meant.

"Me too..." you hummed in agreement.

You'd take the beating again and again for him... and no matter how many beatings you took... you knew he'd be there waiting to make it better again. A vicious cycle.

"I love you," he whispered.

You wouldn't change it for the world.

"I love you too."

You had a lot of healing to do before you could fully embrace this exciting new development in your life, but for now, you were content.

Content, huh? Now that's the understatement of the century.

....................

Taglist: @shadowbriar

If you would like to be added to my taglist, feel free to reach out!

Thank you for reading!

#x reader #bones #bones x reader #leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #reader fanfiction #star trek #star trek fanfiction #star trek x reader #bones mccoy

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mariacallous · 1 year

Text

Just a few months ago, Palestinians took to the streets and openly protested against Hamas and its rule over Gaza:

GAZA CITY, Gaza Strip (AP) — Several thousand people briefly took to the streets across the Gaza Strip on Sunday to protest chronic power outages and difficult living conditions, providing a rare public show of discontent with the territory’s Hamas government. Hamas security forces quickly dispersed the gatherings.

Marches took place in Gaza City, the southern town of Khan Younis and other locations, chanting “what a shame” and in one place burning Hamas flags, before police moved in and broke up the protests.

Police destroyed mobile phones of people who were filming in Khan Younis, and witnesses said there were several arrests. Dozens of young supporters and opponents of Hamas briefly faced off, throwing stones at one another.

The demonstrations were organized by a grassroots online movement called “alvirus alsakher,” or “the mocking virus.” It was not immediately known who is behind the movement.

Hamas rules Gaza with an iron fist, barring most demonstrations and quickly stamping out public displays of dissent.

The Islamic militant group seized control of Gaza in 2007 from the forces of Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas, prompting Israel and Egypt to impose a crippling blockade on the territory. Israel says the closure is needed to prevent Hamas, which does not recognize Israel’s right to exist, from building up its military capabilities.

The closure has devastated Gaza’s economy, sent unemployment skyrocketing and led to frequent power outages. During the current heat wave, people have been receiving four to six hours of power a day due to heavy demand.

“Where is the electricity and where is the gas?” the crowds shouted in Khan Younis. “What a shame. What a shame.”

Protesters also criticized Hamas for deducting a roughly $15 fee from monthly $100 stipends given to Gaza’s poorest families by the wealthy Gulf state of Qatar.

There was no immediate comment from the Hamas authorities.

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ghostheartfelt · 1 year

Text

*:･｡☆ notes: mature content, hellllla smut... smutty smut smut! reader is mentioned as petite/given the descriptions of being petite. reader and ghost are married. ghost is left at the door upon arrival, simon comes home. ghost takes the mask off only at home under your relationship rules.

*:･｡☆ tags: praise and degradation, anniversary sex, reunion sex, breast worship, body worship, ghost is obsessed with ya'll..., ghost is more affectionate during sex, biting, lots of kissing, reader is hella sex deprived, dom!m & sub!f, dom!f if you squint, cunniligus, you ride ghosts face for the first time, ghost loves eating pussy, you give him a blowjob (lucky), no use of y/n, lots of moaning and whining, spit play, ghost spits in your mouth, ghost loves the belly bulge, major size difference kink, BREEDING KINK, ghost breeds you like your life depends on it, you both try for a baby, very fluffy aftercare, ghost takes care of you.

〔☆〕 desc: ghost takes leave for your one year marriage anniversary and makes it up to you with hella sex. oh and you ask if he's ready to give you a baby because you don't like being home alone without a purpose, he doesn't let you leave without there being no chance of you walking out without his baby in you.

—✩ TEN MINUTES PAST ✩—

word count — 10.1k

a/n: this is my first ever time writing smut! i genuinely hope i did alright, and i welcome any advice and soft criticisms. anywho, enjoy this long ass smut shot!

ao3

You pace the living room eagerly. He said he’d be home. He promised. He promised you he’d be beside you for this day. It was your anniversary; he proposed a year ago, and you’d been dating him for six years prior.

It’s two o’clock in the morning, seven minutes past. He’s still not there. Eight minutes past two o’clock in the morning. You spent time cleaning the house for the second time this week, for him.

Nine minutes past two o’clock in the morning. Almost ten. You’ve been waiting since the moment you woke up. Twenty-one hours. One thousand, two hundred and sixty minutes. He’s still not here.

You sit down on the leather couch, and pour the glass of wine you had set out for the two of you in a stemless glass, pressing it to your lips. You lean back, resting your head against the cushion behind you.

Your fingers glide up and down the rubber buttons on the remote to your t.v, the black turning to white as you press on the red on/off button located at the top right corner of the remote.

You pull your black weighted blanket over your body, draping it over your shoulders and tucking it in the crevices between your arms to warm you up.

A stereotypical romance is the first movie you watched while you were cleaning the kitchen. Now, you were halfway through the movie, and it no longer makes you feel bubbly and giddy. But instead, just lonely, almost broken.

Maybe it was the way the brunette male held the blonde, gripping her hips as they kissed underneath the threshold of his apartment door. Or the way he looked at her when she stared out the airplane window during their flight to France.

Nothing you haven’t seen before in a romance, but they contained your favorite tropes, although basic, because Simon never did any of the things you see in the movies. His proposal was simple, hell, you were surprised he even proposed at all.

Your wedding ring was beautiful, a circle-shaped diamond that wasn’t too flashy nor too small. It had two bands that wrapped around your finger, and a diamond-covered frame covering the larger stone.

His ring always stayed on his bedside table, that is more than it should be, left untouched. He wears a silicone band when in the fields, which you were okay with due to it being for his safety. Once in a while, you end up wearing his wedding band around your neck, with a dog tag chain holding it securely.

Ten minutes past two o’clock in the morning. You remember his proposal all too well. You both had visited a pier that was fairly close to your shared home, and with no words, nor kneeling gesture, Simon had taken your smaller hand in his own, and slipped the gorgeous ring through your finger.

His eyes pinned to yours as you took in the moment for yourself. Your eyes shone, glistening with sticky tears as your mascara stained your undereyes. He always wore his mask out in public, but he never told you why.

It was almost as if you were proposed to by another version of him he never has told you about. You weren’t sure if it was him being ashamed of being with you, or something entirely different. Either way, you knew Simon was a man who was secretive and mysterious in a way that you were intrigued by. He still cared, although the man has never returned you an ‘i love you too’, he had other ways of expressing his feelings and admiration for you.

You stand from the couch, adjusting the red silk robes draped over your shoulders, tied at your chest. Your hair was pinned up in a tortoise shell claw clip, two strands from your bangs dangling in front of you. You’d grown out your natural nails, painting them in black—his favorite. You didn’t take the time to do your makeup, he’d always told you he preferred you without it. That your natural beauty was always his favorite; however, he loved when he made you cry off all your mascara while he fucked you, or when your lipstick would smear against him or the bed sheets.

A shiver ran up your spine at the thought. You longed for your husband’s touch for too long, and he’d promised you to provide. Simon was a man of his word, from what you’d seen and experienced. Two hours ago, it was yours and Simon’s anniversary. Two hours ago, you expected him to come through that door and hold you like he did on the pier, so long ago. A year ago. Now, you haven’t seen your husband in over six months, and it was killing you. It was torturous.

He mailed you, and you mailed him. He wrote you letters, telling you sweet nothings. He was such a literate man, he knew how to make you weak in the knees just through ink on paper. The last thing you’d mailed Simon were polaroid pictures of you. You in his favorite lingerie, you without it.

It took you a lot of confidence to do it, but you did, and he loved them. You didn’t know if he did or not, though, because he didn’t mail anything back. You spent day and night worried it was put into the wrong hands, or you wrote the address wrong, or he just didn’t care for them. Simon knew you were also an overthinker.

You walk back towards the kitchen, opening the fridge to take out a glass pitcher of coffee creamer, as well as the half-and-half carton. You close the fridge with your hip, and walk yourself to the other side of the counter where you had a little coffee and tea station set up. You grab one of the mugs off the rack, setting it down as you press the button on the electric kettle to heat up the water inside. You place your cup under the coffee machine.

Suddenly, you feel large hands envelope your waist, and you gasp. “What’re ya doin’ up still, love?” You immediately recognize his voice; so grim, deep, and low, and accented. His left hand drags up from your lower abdomen, up your ribs, up the valley of your breasts. You breathe sharply as he moves your robes, letting them fall off your shoulders slightly. His fingers trace your clavicles a moment, then your sternum again, then up your neck. His hand cups below your chin, pulling your head back to rest against his body.

Only then do you exhale and close your eyes while your palms press hard against the marble countertop. “I didn’t think you’d come,” you finally say, breaking the silence. “Mmm…—I know, t’wasnt my intention. Damn twits kept wantin’ and wantin’…” he says before he bends his head, kissing your shoulders gingerly. “Wanted to rip their heads off for keepin’ me from ya.” Simon grumbles against your soft skin. “But ‘m a man of my word,” his lips glide against your neck, almost hardly touching your skin—teasingly.

“Missed ya…Damn bad. Got yer pictures…” His eyes drag to your palms once they begin to grip on the counter. He starts low, making his way up your neck, sucking and kissing your sensitive skin to create marks that would be a considerable challenge to cover up for work. Just how he likes it.

“You didn’t send anything back…I only assumed the worst.” You reply, gasping once the male above you bites down on your neck then licks the indents he stamped down.

“Like?” He asks, separating your lips slightly with his thumb, which you place a few soft kisses against. “You didn’t…want them. Or they were bad—“ his hand covers your mouth, two of his fingers pressing into the skin below your chin.

“Quiet,” he grunts. “Didn’t want them? Fuckk…Do ya have any damn clue what y’did to me, woman?” Simon’s grip on your hip tightens as he grumbles against the shell of your ear.

“I wanted nothin’ more than to have ya bent to my contentment…To fuck y’r pretty little head empty.” He takes your earlobe between his teeth, then sucks lightly.

“I fucked my hand for over two damn hours like some fuckin’ eager man-slag. Course I damn well liked ‘em.” Simon’s hand trails up to your waist, the other still covering your mouth.

“Does that get ya off, hm? Knowin’ I fucked my fist to y’r pretty little slutty pictures?” He breathes heavily against you, pulling your body warm against his.

“Si…” you say softly, practically delicately after he releases the hand from your mouth to rest it on your waist with the other. “I asked ya a question.” Simon’s voice is so low and gravelly, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, and he takes notice.

You turn around. He lets you. You crave him. He craves you. “Yes,” you coo. His head cranes down to connect your lips with his.

“I’ve missed you so much, Simon,” you whisper into his mouth. He consumes your speech, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue meets with yours, tasting yours. Tasting what he’s longed for. Tasting who he’s longed for.

He doesn’t pull away until you start to struggle to breathe, biting your lip before he disconnects from you, a string of saliva causing him to chuckle deeply.

“Let me make it up to ya, love…” he says, asking for consent with his brown eyes. You only nod, which is enough for his hands to move and grip your hind, lifting you up against his chest. Your legs wrap around his waist and you kiss his chin, his neck—anything you can reach—desperately. He carries you towards the couch, setting you down on the soft material. Your doe eyes blink, taking in his form. He was still in his uniform, but his mask was resting on his side.

Simon’s hard gaze meets with your body, causing you to shuffle around nervously, he was standing up above you, somewhat menacingly. “You look damned beautiful—made me go mad the moment I walked in…” Simon’s eyes don’t leave your body as he starts to discard his vest and kick off his boots. “I feel a bit underdressed,” you joke softly, a smile creasing your lips. “Jus’ how I like it…” He teases, watching as you stare at him. At his shape. The way his tan shirt squeezes tightly around his arms accentuating his tight fit.

Simon nethers down in a bent form, his lips connecting with your wrist as he lifts your arm. “Smell absolutely incredible.” He says, his voice brimming with adoration and his eyes stirring with pure interest and dedication, a hint of desire masked in his dark irises. “Oh…” You exhale deeply, taking note of every one of his moves, memorizing the pattern of his lips against your feverish body.

“‘Oh’, is right lovie.” Simon teases you gently, a humorous chuckle leaving his throat.

He lets go of your hand, letting it slide back onto your thigh as he seats himself besides you, gripping your hips to turn you and lean you against the armrest of the couch. Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his sudden domineering pace. “Y’r so quiet, why?” Simon’s eyes lock onto your half-lidded pair. “I’m just tired, baby, and in shock. You’re right here. In front of me, right now.” You say, lifting your hand to tug at the shirt covering his chest.

Slowly, you drag your open palm up and over his collarbones, pushing him forward to close the gap between you by the nape of his neck. His thumbs add pressure into your hips, bruising them as you thread his fingers through your own, he groans in your mouth as you lightly tug his hair. His tongue glides past yours in a perfect synchrony, showing the desire he held for you. You need him, and he needs you, and that’s entirely evident. “Simon, slow…I don’t want to wake our neighbors,” you breathe as you separate from him. His eyebrows furrow. “I need ya—don’t care if I wake the entire damned city up.” He says sourly.

Your cheeks heat up and your eyes flicker down to Simon’s fingers fumbling with the fronts of your robes. You assist him, untying the little knot of the bow you secured, furtherly exposing your black floral bralette with matching panties. He inhaled sharply, his eyes burning into your cleavage and hip dips. “Fuckin’ bloody massacre…” he cranes his head down, planting kisses over your upper breasts, meeting your lips with a soft peck, you mumble his name, catching his attention. “Y’r a’ready gettin’ all worked up, love.” He teasingly drags his middle finger up over your clothed cunt, making you twitch.

“Oh—“ you moan.

“Tha’s exactly how I can tell ya ain’t had a good fuck in some time…So sensitive to everything. Ya want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart? Is that what ya want?”

He bucks his hips against yours, enough to rile you up. “Please, Simon,” you choke out, gripping his shoulders. “Atta girl,” he lowers himself down and kisses your inner thighs, biting the flesh hard enough to leave marks. “Sweet girl”, he hums below you. You gasp and dig your nails into his skin through his shirt, wiggling as he licks and teases the bitten skin. “I need you,” you sigh in ecstasy to his touch. “I’ve been craving you.” He groans at your blind solicitation, propping your legs up from behind your knees before spreading them apart.

His fingers grip the waistband of your panties before he tears the fabric off from you with just one hand. “Simon!” You yelp as your eyebrows furrow. “Those were expensive…” He huffs below you, kissing your raw skin. “Don’t care—“ he pauses a moment, pulling from your legs to snatch a box from the coffee table beside the both of you.

“Open.” Simon nearly commands, filling you with a slight excitement yet confusion. “Didn’t have time to wrap, ‘sorry.” He watches you take off the lid of the silver glitter box, your eyes immediately widening with marvel.

A new lingerie set to add to your drawer, it was a laced pink set with a little gem hanging in the center front of both the panties and brassiere. Underneath, a perfume you’d been talking to him about like a mad woman, and a pearl necklace with a diamond heart pendant.

You give him a toothy grin, immediately wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him into your chest, he lets out an amused huff. “Happy anniversary, love.” Simon hums against your ear, kissing your collarbone. “Happy anniversary, Simon.” You say back breathlessly.

He sets the box back down on the coffee table after you let go of his shoulders, then he tugs his shirt over his head, piling it on the rug with his gear. He dips down again between your thighs and laces his tongue down your folds from your clit. “So precious,” he coos. You immediately arch your back up and squeal, but he presses his palm against your abdomen, pushing you down.

You bite down on your lip to suppress your noises, and you instinctively slam your thighs together in embarrassment. It’d been so long. “Stop.” He says with a low growl. “Y’r beautiful, love. Nothin’ to be nervous ‘bout, y’hear me?”

His thumb pulls down your bottom lip from your teeth’s hold, causing you to smile softly. “Y’r gorgeous, inside and out. Let me show ya what I mean…” Simon thumbs your robes off entirely with featherlight touches and hoists you up by the back of your thighs. “Si?” You blink, watching as he lays down below you, setting you down hard on his hips.

His pants are dented with a bulge, struggling to breathe under the constraints of his cargos. Your slick cunt wets the fabric below you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, slowly rubbing yourself against the tent in his pants, earning a deep groan from your husband.

“Tryin’ somethin’ new,” he says. “Scoot.” You look at him anxiously, trying to avoid your thoughts resorting to what you thought he was trying to do. “What?—“

“Scoot the hell up here ‘n sit on my damn face, woman.”

“Help me,” you murmur, causing his eyebrows to pinch together. You feel his cock twitch beneath you. “Please, please, Simon…” He obliges. His large and scarred hands cup your bottom, pushing you up and over his chest. “I don’t know if I can,” you mewl above him, and his eyes burn into yours. They melt you into pure liquid above him.

Your legs feel like pure jelly. “I know you can.” He says. “Hands on my chest, dig y’r nails into me if ya have to, understood?” You shake your head. His hands grip your ass tighter. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Simon,” You tremble, hardly able to hold yourself up even with his assistance. Slowly, he sets you on his lips, and you shiver at the first kiss pressed against your wet core. “That’s it, sweet angel.” Simon praises. Immediately, your fingers and hands curl against his lower chest, holding you up. Unholy and sinful sounds fill the living room as he attacks your cunt, lapping up your juices as they dribble down his chin and down his chest sticking to his stubble. “Oh! Oh, fuck!” You gasp loudly, flinging your head back as your nails dig into his skin. “Simon, Simon…!”

“That’s it love, let ‘em hear. Let ‘em know who makes you feel this good.” He growls against you, causing your already sensitive thighs to tremble and your muscles to convulse. Simon’s tongue separates your folds, his nose bumping your clit causing you to squeal. “I could jus’ drown in this sweet cunt,” he groans, causing something to swarm in your chest and stomach from his words. “Keep lookin’ at me, babe.” He commands.

“I can’t,” you whine.

“You can. Bullshit.” His hands move to your hips, allowing his fingernails to dig into the dips, holding you up. “Simon…” you stammer his name over, and over, and over again.

“Ride my face, you beautiful fuckin’ slag.” Simon orders, tugging your hips forward to bump your cunt further against his nose as he buries his tongue into you, curling into your hole. Reluctantly, you take control and roll your hips against him. “Oh fuck…” he breathes heavily. His tongue retracts, and he sucks and flicks his tongue on your clit, driving you to the complete edge. Simon grunts. “Holy shit—fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Fuckin’ needed this…” He moans below you. Against you. You let out a sharp cry of utter pleasure, earning a positive reaction from him. “Needed you…” Simon lets go of you, your body falling flush against him, increasing the pressure.

“No, no—“ you twitch and moan breathlessly, your breath hitching in your throat. It was all too much. A knot ties in your stomach. He wasn’t done. Of course he wasn’t. “Simon!” You scream and lower your head, taking a hand to smear away your slick from his cheek.

One finger swirls over your bud, then side to side at an almost inhuman pace as he sucks on you. He knew exactly what killed you. Your stomach sucks in and your shoulders slump above him as your entire body seems to break into short spasms.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl…” He praises, lifting you a moment. “Don’t stop talking, oh—please, please,” you beg him, your lips quivering. He abides. “Ya think you could cum to just my voice alone?” You moan out in agreement to his question, shuddering as he slowly slides a finger in you.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon breathes sharply. “Y’r tightenin’ around my finger like yer damned life depends on it.” He chuckles low and works on the skin across your inner thighs, covering them in red and purple love bites as he pumps his middle finger in and out of your heat.

Simon attempts to push his pointer finger in you, but you object in pain, arching your back up. “Simon—” you mumble. “Shiiiiiitt…We’ll work ya open, love.”

He presses his lips messily against the side of your knee for a split moment, then starts to slowly work a second digit in again, whispering sweet incoherent praises below you. “I’m gonna…” You manage to say, he hushes you softly by pinching the skin on the inside of your left thigh.

“C’mon then,” he urges. Two fingers slowly move into your cunt while his tongue curls around your throbbing clit, you practically fold. “Cum—cum for me,” he croons against your core. His stubble adds in an extra sensation that’s truly unimaginable.

Your spine arches above him and your nails drag along his scarred skin. He groans. A noise you’ll never get over. “Fuckin’ minx—you like that, sweet girl?” He gruffly purrs, his eyes locking to yours as you look down at him, your mouth slightly ajar as you moan with fluttering lashes.

“So damn gorgeous like this,” Simon glides his thumb over your sensitive clit, fingers entering and exiting your warmth. “You’re so fuckin’ tight…” Your husband praises, extinguishing your pre-insecurities. You tighten around him and he lets out an approving mumble. Once you release around his fingers, he shoves deeper into you, pushing your liquids back inside to watch it drip out of you. “That’s it, sweet girl.”

“Delicious,” Simon groans as he laps up your juices from off his fingers, savoring the taste of your release. He always knew what to say to make your belly swarm with butterflies. You bite your bottom lip shyly.

You let out a heavy sigh in an attempt to soothe the muscle spasms in your thighs. Simon slowly lifts himself up, holding your back to keep you against him, tapping your right thigh roughly with four fingers to instruct you to wrap around him.

“Where are we going?” You question softly. “Room,” Simon grunts back as he steps through the threshold of your shared bedroom.

He pauses, staring at his side of the bed being unkempt. “Did’ya sleep on my side?” His eyes shoot down to meet yours. “I’ve been, sorry.” You bite the tip of your tongue gently.

“No, don’t.”

“Don’t apologize for that.”

Your heart rate rises and your fingers curl against his chest. “I have something for you,” you coo lightly and wriggle in his hold to ask him to let you down. He does, one of his dark eyebrows shifting higher than the other in confusion.

Once your feet meet the ground, you walk quickly to your side of the bed, fingers hooking the straps to a small black bag with thin wrapping.

You hesitate. One hand grips the bag, a loud crinkle filling the room, and you close your eyes.

It felt as if the air all around you was being swallowed whole and your throat was tightening in an attempt to catch up with the disintegrating air.

You feel Simon’s back press against you as he takes the bag out of your hands slowly, his lips pressing onto the back of your head.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he says almost silently.

You turn and lift your head up to look at him, and he takes a hand to caress your cheek with his thumb before he retracts and pulls out the wrapping inside the bag.

His eyes widen a moment, and you feel nervous. He pulls out the small infant onesie, his view flashing to look over your face with concern.

“Simon,” you take a step closer, adjusting the robes to cover you up slightly. “I want to be the mother of your baby.” You say as you rub over your cuticles. “Please, don’t leave me alone this time, I want you to fuck me full of you,” you trace the bulged muscles on his neck as he stands in silence.

“Si? I’m sorry, I knew I should’ve waited, I’m—“ you take a step back, shaking your head as you let out a scoff.

He grabs your arm, pulling you back towards him as your name leaves his mouth nearly silently. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, love.”

Your hands grip both of his biceps reassuringly, head tilting up to place a gentle kiss on the scar that laced from his chin down to an inch of his neck. “You are nothing like him, baby,” your voice reaches nothing below a whisper. “I don’t fear you, not around me, and I won’t fear you around our child.”

Slowly, your fingertips dragged down to the hem of his shirt, pulling it above his belly button before he took it off entirely himself, his neck scooping low to connect your lips together.

Simon’s tongue snakes across your own, a hot breath that tastes like whiskey filling your senses. You release a weak moan into his mouth as you turn your head to deepen the kiss, fingers dragging up the nape of his neck to curl through his blonde locks.

Your husband backed you towards the wall, his hands exploring between your inner thighs and pressing roughly into the already bruised skin. Simon groaned in your mouth before breaking contact to allow you both to breathe.

“Fuckin’ bloody massacre…” He mutters against your skin, his lips moving down the crevice of your collarbones to the dip in the middle of your neck. The roughness and scarring of his lips increased the friction.

He hooks your leg up with his hand from under your knee. Simon used his other hand to press a finger into you, causing a small squeak to spill from your mouth. You let out a moan as the heel of his palm bumps up against your clit. “That’s right sweetheart,” he purrs grimly.

“Oh-ho…good girl.” Simon chuckles as he pumps his finger in and out of your warmth, your slick coating his middle finger and dripping down his knuckles.

You whine, bucking against him and assisting him to go deeper inside your cunt. Simon’s head cranes as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth. “Pretty little slut,” he groans. Your husband slips in another finger, earning a gasp from you as they hook inside you and hit a spot that makes your eyes widen. “All this is mine.”

As he starts to quicken his pace, feeling you tighten around him and start to reject his fingers, your orgasm pushes forward on. “Come on, baby,” Simon praises, using his thumb to toy at your clit. “Simon!” Your legs twitch at every little touch to the sensitive surface, his name leaving your name with a wince.

Your legs spasm as you reach your release once again, his fingers leaving you with a wet squelch as he starts to clean his fingers off with his tongue. “Y’taste incredible, princess.” He says, and it makes you throb even further with his sexy smirk on top of his lustful words.

Simon could eat you out like you were his last meal. He loved tasting you, licking up between your folds and pushing his tongue inside your warmth, sucking and swirling on your clit leaving you an absolute mess. He loved the wet sounds that came from it mixed with your moans and whines.

“I need…” you mumble lightly, wrapping your trembling hands around his neck. Simon’s left eyebrow arches as he lets out a small “hmm?” of curiosity. “Use your words, babygirl.”

“I need you inside of me, please, fuck me, Simon,” you whined. His grin is wolfish.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel his lips suddenly envelop one of your nipples, his tongue lacing over the sensitive skin as he lightly sucks on the bud.

When he retracts, a string of saliva from your breast to his lips drips down your breast.

“Turn around and spread those beautiful legs, love.” He lifts his head up to whisper against your ear, pressing a kiss to the part of your neck below your earlobe. “Use the wall and brace yourself.”

You moan out your approval as he helps you turn yourself on your ankles. You spread your legs and bend at the waistline, pressing your palms against the pearly white wall of your shared bedroom.

“Atta girl,” he praises. “Such a good dirty little whore.” Simon drags his thumb down between your folds causing you to shiver. “Putting this pretty little pussy out on display for me.” His gruff accent only causes your knees to buckle beneath you as you let out a pitiful moan.

You feel your cunt throbbing at the sound of Simon unlooping his belt. You blatantly back your hips into his and grind yourself against the dent of his pants.

His groans fill the room as he grips the dips in your hips with one hand to keep you still. Simon’s belt meets with the floor and you watch him kick his cargos away after they pool around his ankles. “Fuck…” He hisses.

Simon frees himself from the restraints of his boxers, pulling his cock through the fly and holding it against your ass. “Y’feel how worked up y’get me, love?”

He leans himself forward closer to your ear as he slowly rubs his cock between your folds, coating it in your wet and warm slick. The moan he releases is intoxicating.

“Want me t’make you cum on my big cock?” He whispers lowly, then moans out your name as he slowly presses his tip into you. Your name rolls off his tongue perfectly, like the way oil feels against skin.

You give him a desperate whimper as you feel his tip stretch you open, and you push yourself back further on him to assist him.

“Slow, babe.” He coos. You choke on a moan, a hand nearly sliding off the wall before Simon threads his fingers with yours, pinning it back against the wall as you ride his tip. “Oh my god,” you gasp.

Simon bites the skin of your neck; a searing, beautiful pain that only drives you to insanity as you buck yourself gently back and forth, down the head of your husband’s dick.

“Beautiful girl, stretch yourself open on me, use me.” He demands.

He wanted it to be easy on you, gentle. Simon was bigger than you’d ever expected, it always took a little longer than expected for your body to adjust to his size, and he was patient with you. Mostly.

Slowly, you push yourself farther down the length of his dick, filling your cunt up with him. You wanted your pussy to swallow him whole. You craved it.

Simon gripped your thigh as he thrusted himself deeper inside, you let out a shrieked moan, causing him to groan. “This okay?” He asks above you. “Yes,” you drawl with a moan following.

“Love the way y’sound,” he leads you onto him with a hand squeezing your waist, backing you up and down his cock. “And this pretty little tight pussy.”

The warmth of his tongue wets the base of your neck before he gives it an open-mouthed kiss, dragging his tongue in a horizontal motion. He roughly sucks on the raw and pleading skin.

“Mmm…” Simon moans against your skin feeling your hips finally meet with his as you take his entire cock in you. “That’s it…that’s it my sweet girl, my perfect little slut. Y’can take it.”

His hips thrust faster, pulling you back with his palm on your ass as he ruts into you. Simon plants a rough smack against your ass, a lustful chuckle leaving the depths of his throat seeing the skin bounce to his behest.

“Fuck,” you pant. Sounds of skin slapping fill the room, your mouth held agape as he snaps into you, a perfect set pace as he fucks you, hard.

“Please, please,” you moan as he takes a fist full of your ass and slams you down onto him, you let out a cry.

“Please what, sweet girl?”

“Make me…” a moan leaving your throat interrupts you mid-sentence, “…make me cum, make me cum on your big cock…I need you to…”

Simon hums gruffly. “Your gorgeous begs. Beautiful moans.” His fingers tighten over yours, locking his with your own.

You’re writhing beneath him, thighs threatening to give in and make your body meet with the wooden flooring. “Yes, yes…” you moan, each thrust inside of you causing your words to choke out with each heavy breath. “So good to me, so good…” You feel his cock twitch inside you at your whined and strained praises.

Just as he finds that perfect spot inside of you, your back arches. He slides his hand up the dip in your spine to grab your hair and pull it back, allowing him more access to your neck.

Simon drags his lips up your neck until he’s nibbling your lobe. “Yeah? Right there, love?” He croons sexily. “Y’like that?”

“Want me to fuck you right there?” He asks, you moan in reply, but he yanks your head back. “Tell me.”

“Ah—yes, yes…” you practically mewl as you feel your husband bottom out inside you, hitting your cervix with every deep and slamming thrust.

“So…so close!”

Your eyes water as you felt your muscles tighten in your body, your blood pumping lethargically through your veins insisting that you keep yourself from letting your legs give in beneath you.

Drool collected at the corners of your swollen and sore lips that you’d been gnawing at with the top row of your teeth as he filled you up to the hilt with his length and thickness.

“Fuck—“ he gasps. “Fuck…fuck…” Simon’s voice is hitched in his throat, almost as if the air around him was being consumed.

With one swift motion, he turns you around after pulling out of you and picks you up by cradling your ass, lips immediately crashing into one another as he roughly yanks you back down onto him.

“So good, so warm ‘n wet for me…” He wets your bottom lip with his tongue. Your nails dig into the skin on his upper back causing him to hiss into your mouth. “Taking me so well, sweet girl.”

You moan in pure ecstasy into his mouth, abrupt whines and whimpers leaving you everytime he hits your cervix. “Fuck me, fuck me, make me see stars!” You beg.

He backs you up against the wall and your hands meet with Simon’s hair, pulling his head back to attack his mouth with your own as he quickened his pace inside of you, attacking your cunt and making your slick coat between your thighs.

Simon slams into you once more, pausing a moment to rub along your abdomen, you let out a sob.

“Look at how full of me you are, bloody hell, babe.”

Your lolling head struggles to allow you to focus. He grabs your chin, pinching your lips together slightly forcing you to look down at the small bulge in your stomach from his size. You manage a small noise before he plants a long kiss against your forehead, helping you straighten your back before colliding your hips together once more.

His hand leaves your chin and settles back onto your ass, giving it yet another harsh smack to knock you back into your senses. Your eyes widen for a moment before they return to being half-lidded.

Simon chuckles, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling it back before releasing it.

“So cock-drunk for me, baby,” he purrs wolfishly. “C’mon, a little longer, princess.”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Your husband thumbs away a bead of drool dripping down the outer corner of your lips.

You whimper in reply, tugging at his blonde hair lightly, which you knew always drove him absolutely crazy.

“Fu—..ck!” A yelp leaves your lips as you pull yourself out of stupor and grip his shoulders, slamming yourself down on him, he releases a noise similar to a growl and a moan, whatever it was, you felt your walls spasm around him.

He moaned your name.

“Yes, yes, fuckin’ perfect, fuckin—“ he groans, a finger finding your clit as he fucks you through your orgasm, riding his own. “Gonna cum, so fuckin…Ah,” he grunts at every thrust.

“Cum with me…c—um…now.” He’s practically stuttering, speaking through clenched teeth.

You moan as the muscles in your legs start to tense, your cunt clinging to him as your orgasm rolls off.

Simon bites down on one of the many hickeys littered across the skin of your neck.

“Si—..mon!” you cry out, hands trembling as you drag one down the side of his face, peppering kisses wherever your neck could stretch and reach.

You smile, lips quivering as you feel him release into you, your own cum leaking down between your legs and down his own.

“That’s it, that’s it…cumming for me, making such a dirty mess, such a good fuckin’ girl…” he sucks on your bottom lip.

Simon thrusts his cum back into your pulsating cunt, making sure not to waste a single drop.

“Th..ank you, thank you..” you slur. “Mmm…yes, Si…”

It wasn’t over, he wasn’t done, and you loved it. You wanted him more than ever.

You whimper as you feel him slide out of you, immediately missing the warmth he provided. Two fingers slide over your wetness, as he watches it drip out of you, he fucks it back into you with those same two fingers.

Slowly, he raises them to your mouth, and you lock eyes with him as he pulls down your bottom lip.

Without hesitation, you lace your tongue up his fingers, then between them, lapping up your shared orgasm. He whispers soft praises into your ear as you take his fingers into your mouth, sucking off your mixed slick as you reach Simon’s knuckles, a loud and wet pop sounding as you release his fingers.

“Wrap y’r legs ‘round me, pretty girl.” He hums lowly.

You abide.

He picks you up from off the wall, connecting your lips. He groans into your mouth. “So soft, smell so good.”

Simon uses his elbow to open the bathroom door, pressing his back against it to allow you both in. The sound of your skin slapping against the dark grey marbled countertop he sets you on echoes. “Simon!” You laugh gently.

His hand dips to the nape of your neck, fisting in your thick hair and tugging your head back to allow his lips to attack your neck. He groans against your abused skin as you drag your fingers along the scars on his chest, your fingers tracing his clavicles with featherlight touches.

Simon’s mouth leaves your neck once again, yet another mark of his possession towards you marking your skin.

He finally kicks off his boxers entirely, tossing them into the corner of the bathroom.

He strokes himself a moment, aligns his cock with your entrance, and slowly pushes himself inside of your pussy.

Your mouth is held agape, as your eyebrows thread together and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Open, open those pretty eyes, I want to watch y’come apart for me.”

He whispered your name like a prayer, and each time you extended a little noise to his fragments of praise and adoration, watching you come undone on the counter of the bathroom you share.

“Gorgeous little minx,” he whispers as his lips brush against yours, breathing heavily against your chin and neck.

You feel the heat radiating off his thighs as they brush against your bare and silky clean-shaven legs.

He groans as your smooth folds envelop his needy cock, still throbbing and pleading for him to fuck you full again. Your sweat-slicked chest drags against his, breasts flattening as your arms loop over his neck. “Y’feel so fuckin’ good, love…”

“I lo—ve you,” you moan, choking on your own words. He sinks deeper into you, moaning in reply to your words, your thighs growing numb as he engraves his fingers into your skin. “God, Simon.”

“Like this pussy was made f’r me…” your husband sneers.

He slides back out, slamming into you ruthlessly, repeating the motion twice until he bottoms out. You cry out yet another moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fuck, those moans…” he chuckles. “Singin’ me a goddamn song, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

Simon growls, roughly sliding his hands underneath your thighs and pulling you towards him, pulling your legs further apart. You let out a ragged gasp as he hammers into you, his dick curving perfectly into a spot that causes your legs to spasm in his grasp. “Pl—,”

You let out a scream. A scream that was slurred, a scream of pleasure and pure high.

It ripped from you. Your orgasm. He still slams into you, wet sounds of squelching filling the entire bathroom as he fucks your climax back inside of your hole.

He applies more force into the spot that aching place that practically makes you squeeze around him.

He laughs. A brief yet whole hearted laugh. “Fuckin’ hell, that was new…”

“Y’ve never finished that fast before,” Simon breathed against your ear.”

“I’m sorry,” your cheeks flush and you cry out another moan as your skin sticks to his from your wetness.

“Don’t ‘cha ever b’fuckin sorry for that.” He says, hitching into the back of your cunt once more. He lets out a grown as he accidentally slams his knee into the cabinet below you.

“Oh—Oh fuck! Simon, d...-don’t stop! Please—fuck!”

At each thrust your breath hitched in your dry throat. You gagged on air. You gasped out his name.

He twitches inside of you, the veins of his cock bucking against your walls. Your knees buckle as Simon’s fingers clasp both of your nipples and he rolls the sensitive nubs between his thumbs and pointer fingers.

“My good girl makin’ sucha mess on me,” he chuckles. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your eyelashes flutter as you buck your pelvis into his hips.

“Oh, god—fuck…” he grunts. “That’s it, baby, my good little slut.”

“Jesus—‘m so proud of you, takin’ my fat cock in your small little pussy.”

You swallow the thick ball of spit clogging your throat. “Ye—yes, I feel so good,” you moan. “You—..make me feel so good. So big.”

“Y’did such a good job, baby.” Simon praises as he pinches your nipples.

“Give me your tongue. Out.”

When you comply, he takes your tongue into his mouth, swiping it with his own. You whine into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue, lacing his spit with your own. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, traversing through your mouth as he fucks you up against the counter.

“God—taste so good.” He purrs.

“Jus’ wanna break you.” A hand leaves your tit to swirl around your swollen clit, you squirm beneath him. “All mine.”

His pace grows slower, so you rock your hips into his to help, earning a deep and groggy moan to claw from his gullet.

“Cum in me, fill me up,” you beg, putting pressure with your thumbs into both sides of the base of his neck. “F—Fill my pussy up, use me…”

Simon’s hips thrust into you so hard the clutter of toothbrushes rolls off the counter and onto the floor—it feels almost as if the walls of the bathroom are shaking.

He let out a staggered, heavy breath. “Y’know how good my hard dick feels inside of you?” He encourages, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, then swing it back to let out a shuddered moan.

“So fuckin’ small ‘n tight around me.” Simon’s shins bang into the cabinets below you two. “Beautiful. So beautiful.” Your husband presses a kiss to your bottom lip regardless of your mouth being held ajar.

Your fucked out face etched with pure bliss only turned him on to the brinks. Even as he’s pounding unmercifully into your cervix, he watches your face as it twists into a mixture of pleasure and pain, the tip of his cock plummeting the one soft spot inside you.

Your heart pounds, as if it wants to push its way through your ribcage. You caress Simon’s muscled biceps that are adorned with ink markings reaching his wrists.

That familiar tightening at the lower bottom of your abdomen appears again, causing you to whine and dig your nails into Simon’s arms, your back arching as you wiggle your hips in his grasp. “That’s it, lovie, soak my cock.” He hums. “So damn proud of ye f’r takin’ me again.”

Simon pushes himself deep inside you. “Got me fuckin’ a baby in ye. Tha’s what’chu got me doin’ ‘ere. Want ‘vryone to watch your little belly grow with my seed? Let ‘em know who y’belong to?”

“C’mon, baby, cum nice ‘n hard on this dick. C’mon.”

You nod and moan. “Yours—only yours…” The coil in your stomach finally snapped, tears pricking your eyes and making their way down your cheeks.

“Take it, take it…Oh..shit..” He huffs and moans, rubbing over the bulge in your lower stomach. “That’s it…That’s it, lovie.”

Your cunt convulsed around him and he continued rutting inside you, rambling praises as your cum leaks down your legs and coats his pubic hair.

“Oh—oh fu..ck!” He moans, mouth being held open as his head flings back. Small whimpers leave him, god it’s adorable.

Simon releases into you, fingernails tracking into your waist, enough to draw small details of blood across your porcelain body.

Hot and heavy pants leave your husband’s open mouth.

“Absolute goddess, a feast f’r the eyes.” He respires sharply, helping you off the counter. Your hips collide with his again.

You twitch as your head slumps down on his shoulder, teeth nibbling and lips kissing against the flesh you can reach.

“So small on me.” He groans into your ear, sending a shockwave between your legs.

One hand stays splayed across the small of your back, while his other holds a bruising grip on your hip, thumb rolling a circular motion into your warm skin.

Simon takes you both back into your bedroom, laying you flat on the bed, watching hungrily as your tits bounce from the impact onto the velvety sheets.

“Oh-ho… those gorgeous tits…” your husband kneads your breasts in both of his palms, massaging the soft and tender flesh.

“Can’t wait to see ‘em swollen with milk, needy and jus’ beggin’ to be touched by me.”

Simon litters gentle kisses across both of your breasts, causing you to squirm and arch your back. He gently shushes you, dragging a palm through your soft and messy hair.

“That what’ya want, baby? Want me to milk your tits dry when they’re hard and full?” He drags his tongue along the curves of your breasts and up to the muscle of your neck.

“Mhm…please…” you murmur, trailing your hand up his spine to the nape of his neck, gripping his tail of blonde hair to pull his head down and crashing his lips onto yours.

He pushes his tongue past yours, then rubs the tip of it along the crevices of the inside of your mouth. Simon groans into your throat.

You both trade spit, fighting for a form of dominance with your tongues, which ends up in your defeat as usual as you both disconnect from each other's swollen and glistening lips.

“Simon, please…” you moan, tugging his hair slightly, earning a low growl from the larger male above you.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.” He cranes, being hovered above you, thumbs still massaging your breasts as his cock slightly teases your throbbing entrance.

“Please let me suck your dick,” you slur, fingers teasingly tracing over one of the veins on the base of his cock. He huffs out a cloud of air that’d been surfacing in the depths of his lungs.

“Look at you, askin’ so nicely, how could I say no?” He practically purrs. “Like a personal little cockslave, aye?” A short chuckle leaves Simon.

“Sit up, on y’r hands ‘n knees. ‘M going to play with that precious pussy as you take me in y’r mouth. I want to watch you break as I bruise your pretty little throat with my thick cock.”

You feel something tighten inside of you at Simon’s filthy words, immediately lifting yourself up from your back flat against the mattress of your king-sized bed, you let one of his hands find your hair and tug your head back.

“Open y’r mouth, baby.” He purrs, brown eyes narrowed and looking down at you with pure love and lust. “Stick that cute little tongue out.”

Your eyelashes angelically flutter as you expose your tongue to your husband. He takes himself in his hand and slaps the tip of his cock against your tongue, making you clench your legs and wiggle your waist, a hum in your throat exiting and filling the room.

“Shit…sweetheart…the things y’do to me.” Simon groans. “Stroke me. Show me you deserve this cock in your tight little throat. Keep your mouth just like that.”

His words, his instructions—you submitted to him without hesitation or thought to mind.

You took your hand and swiped your slick from your cunt with four fingers, then rubbed it up and down his base a moment before wrapping your hand around his dick, earning a groan from him.

He was so big in your tiny hand, it turned you on to nearly your limits.

You rolled your wrist as you jerked his base up and down, once in a while thumbing at the needy slit at the tip of his cock. “Ah, fuck…Those small hands do wonders…” Simon moans, jerking his hips to match your thrusts up and down his shaft. “Such a good fuckin’ girl…so proud of you.”

It took everything in you to not pull this man forward and take him into your warm and wet mouth, but you knew he was in command, and disobeying him would result in orgasm denial. He was so incredibly good at edging you, it was torturous.

“Fuck—you drive me crazy, love…” he nearly whines as you massage his scrotum. You offer him a small open-mouthed laugh.

“Y’think that’s funny?” Simon pinches your cheeks together, a slight and incredibly sexy tilt in his head. “Don’t y’get smug wit’me, princess. Y’know who will win.”

You moan, feeling his fingers glide down to grip your jaw to tilt your head up once again. “You bein’ on your knees for me, huh, y’little minx?” He suddenly spits into your mouth and you shiver. Holy shit. He’d never done that before, and it drove you absolutely mad.

A deep laugh exits him. “Y’fuckin’ liked that, didn’t ya? Dirty little slut.”

Your thighs slam together once again and you grind against your skin, a whimpered gargle causing you to squeeze your eyes together in shame as you close your mouth. He prys it back open.

“Ah-ah, ah…” Simon hums lowly. “No—no. Don’t you swallow. Y’ve been bein’ so good.” He chuckles with a groan following it. “Wouldn’t want to ruin that, now, would we?”

“Tilt your head.”

You comply and he spits down your throat again, he feels your hand start to tremble against his cock.

“Good girl…” He adjusts his hand in your hair, tapping your fingers away. You press your hand back onto the bed.

He takes a step forward and drags the tip across your bottom lip, just dancing along the tip of your tongue.

“Go.” He commands, and you immediately lick a stripe down his twitching cock.

“Let me watch as you come undone on my cock,” he groans as he reaches his hand under you to play with your pussy lips.

You bob your head on his tip, your tongue dragging alongside the slit of his hole.

He hissed through his teeth watching you move down his shaft, licking up and down it. You were thankful not to have a sensitive gag reflex.

“Ah—that’s it…fuck…” he praises. “Your mouth feels so damn good around my cock.”

“C’mon on, baby. Take as much as you can. I’ll help ya.” He purrs.

You lower yourself down on his length and you feel him push you down until your nose meets with his fresh-clipped pubic hair and he bottoms out at the end of your throat, nearly engulfing all of him if he weren’t so big.

Tears run down your eyes as you whimper and squirm, begging for air. You gagging and moaning only increases his pleasure as you send vibrations to his cock.

“God…fuck…” his voice hitches as he toys with your clit. “I can feel your throat just clench around my dick as I stretch it out.” Simon groans.

“Just hold.”

“Hold—…Don’t…fuckin’…move…”

Simon moans as he slightly fucks the surface of your throat. “Fuck! I’m gonna cum…!” His fingers curl inside of your dripping core as you clamp around him.

He pulls you off of him by the back of your head, letting you fall on your back. You whine and sob from pleasure as he drags you towards him roughly by your ankle.

He manhandles you; grabbing both of your hips with a punishing grip to spread your legs out to his liking.

Your chest rises and falls at a rapid pace and you feel as though you might break when you feel him plummet into you once again. Your hands fall above your head, grasping the sheets with a devilish grip.

He bends over you, his dog tags dangling over your chest and bouncing tits as he roughly thrusts into you a few times. “Oh—oh…fuck…oh fff…—fuck….” Simon halts in motion to spill his cum inside of you, to which you cum not too long after him.

“Jesus H. Christ…” he mumbles, slowly bucking the juices back into you.

He lets out a prolonged and intense sigh, hand caressing the supple flesh of your cheek softly. “Jesus, lovie, y’r cryin’? It’s okay, sweetheart.”

His head lowers between your thighs to press gentle kisses against your trembling inner flesh. “Shh—shh…” He hums soothingly.

“I know…I know it hurts, y’r so sensitive to even me breathin’ against your tired pussy…” His voice softens seeing you let out a whimper as he blows his breath softly against your core.

“But you did such a good job, baby.” Simon praised you, pressing gentle kisses against your other inner thigh before taking himself up to plug your hole with his thumb as he pulled himself out.

Your husband connects lips with you once again, his hot breathing milking your mouth nearly in perfect synchrony with your motions.

“Want you to cum in my mouth,” you whine against his lips.

“Yeah?” Simon grunted lowly. “That’s what you want?”

You nod softly, and he sits himself on the bed, swinging his legs over and scooting towards the middle of the bed, his back against the frame.

“Show me you want it, go on,” he drags his hand up and down his length.

You crawl your way toward Simon, replacing his hands with your mouth, tongue grazing the tip as it swirls around the underside of the head of his cock.

“Just like that, baby, you’re in command.” He coos grimly, resting his hands on the rim of the bed frame. “Feels so good…”

Your hand pumps his length as your tongue licks a thick stripe of moisture from his scrotum to the tip of his aching cock, and he was making so many breathy noises. Bucking into your mouth madly.

“Mmm…f—ummm…” he practically snarled beneath you. “Makin’ me feel so good, lovie.”

“About to cum…” Simon grunts.

You already knew that—you could tell by the way his cock twitched inside of your mouth at each kitten lick to his slit.

He presses his head farther into the feathered pillow under his neck as he feels his orgasm approaching, a hand dripping off the frame of the bed to push a strand of your hair behind your ear as you take as much as you can of him down your throat without his assistance.

He chuckles hearing you gag on him as he abruptly thrusts himself farther into you before his cum spurts down your throat.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hollow out your cheeks to swallow, slowly shaking your head side to side as you push him deeper down your sore gullet.

Simon lightly pats your cheek as he watches your eyes flutter shut. “Y’alright there, love?” He snickers.

Once your eyes reopen, his own fill up with patent devotion towards you.

“Ah, if only y’could see y’rself right now…” his hand strokes your cheek lovingly, lightly pulling the skin as if you’re the most fragile creature in existence.

“Blown out pupils—so damn cockdrunk from me, ay?” He cups your ass, pulling you off of his cock with a soft pop, drool dripping off your puffy pink lips and dribbling down your chin.

“Must b’absolutely knackered.” He swipes away the droplage with his thumb.

You open your mouth to speak but he calmly shushes you.

“Don’t speak, love, let me take care of’ya.” He hums into your hair before cradling you in his arms and swinging off the bed.

“Let’s get’ya to the washroom, ay? Have a warm shower t’untense y’body.” A soft kiss is pressed to your temple as he carries you back into the bathroom—that as you furtherly come off the high of it all, reeks of sex—and sets you atop the toilet seat a moment.

Simon turns the shower on as he has a hand extended out to run through your messy hair.

The water squeaking and spitting out assists you with slightly stirring out of your drunken state.

He picks you up once again after opening the glass sliding doors, stepping in under the warm water with your legs wrapped around his waist.

When the water beads down his shoulders and onto your nude chest, you let out a tiresome moan, your face hiding in the crook of your husband’s neck.

“I know, sweet girl,” he hums. “I’ve got’ya…”

Slowly, Simon sets you back on the floor, holding the small of your back as he feels your legs give in.

“Shit, baby, hold on to my neck. Can y’do that?” He whispers against your ear.

You mumble incoherent words. Your legs feel like absolute jelly beneath you as you raise your arms above your head. You clasp your hands over his neck and whine as he litters kisses over your jawline and cheeks.

“Good, there you are.” He praises gently. “J’s keep holdin on, I’ll wash y’up.”

Simon takes a bottle of shampoo, popping the cap and squeezing suds onto his open palm.

You flutter messy kisses along his stubble as he massages the soap through your hair, fingers kneading into your scalp and ends. God it felt amazing.

He continues the same process with the conditioner, then washing it out by turning himself around so you’re under the water. He umbrellas his hand over your eyes as he helps you tilt your head back under the streaming water.

You moan at his touch and gentle kisses under your ear and across your forehead as he rubs the rose pink loofah soaked in suds over your body, coating it in soap with gentle rubbings.

Simon makes sure to clean every lithe inch of your body before turning off the running water.

“A’right, lovie, can y’hold y’self up a few moments? Gon’ wrap ya in a towel.” He coos in your ear.

When you give him a small nod, he presses yet another soft kiss to your temple. You release his neck and frown slightly when he rolls it along with his shoulders.

“Ah—no, ‘tis fine, babe. Don’t y’worry your pretty little head ‘bout it, hm?” He chuckles, a solemn and deep noise truly coming from the barbed wire wrapped heart of your husband. “Ain’t a problem, really, ‘could hold ya up all day if you needed me to.”

Simon opens the sliding doors to grab at a towel resting on the rack above the toilet, wrapping you and himself up comfortably before you’re up in his arms bridal style.

Again, you’re back in your bedroom, he sits you on the bed and drags a pair of dark purple lace-trim panties up your legs, pulling one of his rolled up black t-shirts over your head and down your torso.

Simon fits himself in a pair of black briefs before helping you under the covers beside him, pulling you flush against his chest with one swift motion.

His hand brushed over your hair, pushing it out and away from your face, a guttural noise close to a chuckle escaping Simon’s lips at the sight of you kipped and drooling above his left pec, legs tangled with his.

He runs a hand through his wet blonde locks a moment before he situates you on top of him, palms resting over both of his shoulder blades with one of your legs straight and the other bent in the shape of an upside down ‘V’.

Simon’s hands cup your ass before his head leans back into the soft plumage of his pillow, blonde eyelashes fluttering closed to chase sleep.

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