#slight edit to expand it a bit

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: What We Did In The Dark {1}****

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Language, 18+ Mature Content, NSFW, SMUT, No Glove Lovin’, Oral: Male & Female Receiving, DO NOT READ @ WORK/SCHOOL

Words: 6.7k

Summary: Neither of you planned any of it. You’d met by chance, and everything that happened after had to have been predestined. There was no way blazing passion like what was between you was something coincidental.

Note: I suspect this is going to be anywhere from 3-6 parts. Heck, it could be more depending on how it plays out during these writing sessions. Also, I had to add some pics so y'all could just see it and envision it. Breathtaking! Anyhoo, I hope you guys enjoy this.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Lewis-

"Wow!"

"What?"

He heard the question, but he was too entranced by the woman across the beach who was currently dancing around a raging bonfire that was surrounded by dozens of onlookers who were more than likely as entranced as he was. He followed your every move. When your arms raised to the sky, his eyes followed. When your head dropped back to gaze at the darkened sky, his eyes roamed to your face but thanks to the smoke from the fire he couldn't make out your features. When your hips circled then bounced like you'd spent your entire life in the motherland amongst the tribe tapping into every bit of your natural born sensuality, his jaw dropped.

"Fuck!”

He couldn't tell if you knew you were being watched or not because you looked so caught up with dancing and that blew his mind. You blew his mind. He couldn't put his finger on why, so he watched more. Before he knew it, he'd stalked closer and was just behind the expanding crowd. A woman approached you then joined you dancing, your movement syncing as if you'd practiced them but with the variations between your movements, he doubted you had. His eyes remained on you and as the words of the song faded and went to sporadic words…

"Go, Go gyal."

Once it finally reached just base beats, there was no way he could look away.

You dropped to the sand, then moved better than a desert sand snake. You commanded attention and demanded worship for the gift of you. You flung the handful of sand in the air and as it fell back to the earth it dusted across your skin sticking to the lite sheen already spread across you. God, you were beautiful. You were every goddess that had ever existed. Cleopatra, Bastet, Mami Wata, Yemoja, Menhit, you could have been all, shapeshifting with every move.

Suddenly, you looked out into the large crowd for the first time and locked eyes with him. Just like that, he felt like he'd taken a punch to the gut but there was no pain just breathlessness. You smirked and continued dancing all the while keeping your eyes on his. He felt like he was being summoned to you, unable to resist the call like a land siren. He almost found himself stepping forward, but he resisted and walked around the circle of bodies that surrounded him.

Every few steps, he passed behind a body which restricted his view but when he moved again your eyes were there again. Even if it was a sliver of space or a whole gap, your eyes found his and his yours. As the song drew to a close he finally noticed the 6 other women with you who all crept closer until your backs were pressed together in a circle.

You were now panting, your chest and torso rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern that the crowd took as an opportunity to join in and clap to. You dipped down like you were doing the limbo until each of you laid on the sand in a slight curve, knees bent, back and arms spread like you were offering yourself to the universe. That was when the song ended, and cheers erupted all around.

"Holy Shit," he muttered.

As everyone around him lost their shit in cheers, applause, and chants for another, you hugged the women with you and hid your face from the crowd as if you were suddenly embarrassed for the pure power you exhibited and the attention you demanded. A few people approached you no doubt trying to shoot their shot and while you looked to be flourishing under the attention, you also looked the complete opposite. He couldn't understand it one bit.

You made a move to walk off, but before you did your eyes found him in the crowd. For several seconds, you didn't move. There was something in the way you looked at him that made his skin prickle and tingle, something about the way your eyes held his that made his heart speed up and his throat tighten, something unexplainable, something foreign to him, something unnerving.

A small smirk spread across your lips, but it wasn't a cocky one, it was a smirk you gave someone to let them know that you knew something they didn't or you knew something they did but hadn't realized yet. This air of mystery surrounded you and he couldn't look away. He wanted to unravel every complex layer he knew you possessed until you were bare before him; until he saw every little bit of you. The stirring in him didn’t cease and even went so far as to invade his thoughts. He thought about letting you see him just as bare as he wanted to see you.

A hand on your shoulder drew your attention from him and it was like a spell being broken. He felt more like himself as the haze in his head broke apart. The longer you looked away the clearer he felt.

"What was that? What happened to you? One minute you're there, the next gone," Miles asked seemingly coming from nowhere.

Shaking his head, he breathed out, "I don't know man--the weirdest shit just happened, and I don’t know whether I'm going or coming now."

"Okay, all right, maybe--a drink or two? I know you don't like to usually but technically it's off-season."

Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. A drink sounded fucking amazing right now, God knew he felt tightly wound.

"Fuck it. Yeah."

"All right, my man!”

The next few hours passed with drink after drink in his hand and him and his boys partying like it was old times. It felt great to let loose without worrying about anything and while he was mostly there he had to admit he still could make out the color of your eyes when he closed his.

When everyone else had gone their own ways, Miles with a beauty who had legs for days, Andrew with a girl whose eyes rivaled the ocean, and Daniel with someone who remixed big booty Judy, he was alone at a secluded part of the beach watching the bioluminescent water lap at the shore. The beautiful azure glow really did the trick to make him feel like he was nothing but a tiny speck in a universe with so much that was unexplained.

He dropped back onto the sand and gazed into the swirl of purple and blue lights that decorated the sky and sighed. He really needed this break. Long minutes passed with him lost in the stars that seemed to glow brighter the longer he stared at them. Suddenly, he felt a slightly sharp pain in his side then came a scream.

"What the fuck!”

He'd said it but another voice echoed the same thing back at the same time. Darting up, he looked at the body that was face down in the sand. The bioluminescent water washed over them bathing their skin in the same blue hue. When they sat up and turned he looked into the same eyes of the woman from earlier.

No way, he began to think just as you spoke.

"No way."

A slow smile spread across his lips hearing his thoughts from your lips.

"I can't believe I actually fell for you," you added.

Seconds later the two of you busted out laughing. In the history of meet cutes, he guessed this was probably the best one yet.

~~~~~~

-Y/N-

How embarrassing you said to yourself as your laughter died down. You had no idea why you’d said that. It was the first thing that came to mind and in true you form, you’d said it. His hand touched yours pulling you upright and the sharpest zing of electricity coursed through your arm making dead impact right in your heart.

In a split second, you felt as if you'd run the New York Marathon at full speed with no hydration stops. Your palms were clammy and hot, and your armpits were unusually sticky. The effect was sudden but so powerful that you yanked your hand from his hoping it would stop. Surprisingly, he did the same.

You both sat there staring at the other with pure confusion etched on your features.

Glancing at your hand, you wondered what the hell that was. Never in your many years of living had you experienced that. You'd heard stories about sparks flying upon first meeting or touching, but you had always chalked it up to lies and exaggeration. Was it though?

"Are you hurt?"

"Uh--um...no. Well yes, my pride is definitely hurt. Other than that I'm ok.

"Blame it on me. I was inconsiderately lying in the middle of the beach in pitch black night."

You knew what he was trying to do, and you appreciated it. "You're right. It is your fault."

Again the two of you laughed together. You continued dusting off the wet glowing sand on your body but most of it wouldn't budge.

"Looks like I am meant to be a blue strobe light for the rest of the night."

"It looks good on you. Makes you look as magical as you are."

You glanced at him, meeting his eyes. For a few seconds, he held your gaze then cringed.

"Oh god, I said that out loud didn't I?"

"Oh yes, you did."

He rubbed the back of his neck and stared out at the glowing blue shore. The expression on his face was a pained one. Amusement filled you then. He was embarrassed.

"So you think I'm magical huh."

"Oh god. How embarrassing. I didn't mean to say that out loud. Sorry."

"Don't be. Girls like compliments, they are an easy method to drop inhibitions."

He snorted then. "So your inhibitions are dropped now?"

You looked further past the shore to the inky blackness of the ocean. The only light on it was from the glittering moon.

"I think I'll need several more compliments before that happens."

Peeping to him, you saw a wide smile on his face. He was even more handsome than his pictures.

"I'm Lewis," he said holding out his hand to you.

"Y/N."

You shook hands and again that same electric current rushed through you. This one zinged south making you clench your thighs together. Stifling a small moan, it came out as a low hum as you looked from him back to the water.

The two of you sat quietly for several minutes. You didn't know what to say. Now you were conscious of the fact that he was practically this hot stranger whom you had just face-planted in front of. He may have been embarrassed about his comment, but you were mortified for that to be your first meeting. Taking a peek at him, you noted his brows were drawn together as if he were thinking deeply about something. Every few seconds his eyes rolled then he squinted only to do it again. You wanted to know what he was thinking but didn't want to pry.

The tide came in again and with it a bottle. Recollection hit you and in the same instant, you reached for the bottle. Once it was in hand, you held it up like a trophy.

"Ha. What's mine will always find its way to me."

You uncorked the bottle of dark rum that you had been carrying before you tripped, then brought it to your lips. After taking two dainty gulps you sucked in a breath to cool your tastebuds. That was when you felt his eyes on you. Sure enough, when you looked his eyes were glued to your mouth which had your outstretched tongue lolling from it.

"Sorry. I should have offered first."

You raised the bottle to him and watched as he looked at it with doubt, then back to you then finally your mouth.

"I swear I brush my teeth 3 times a day, have never had any venereal diseases including mono and herps and I am 1,000% clean. This temple has not received visitors in 11 months at least, it’s probably closer to almost 2 years but neither here nor there, still a really long time," you blurted out.

As soon as the words left your lips you regretted them and when you saw his brows raise in surprised interest, you wanted to burrow like a crab. Doing your best, you tried to shrink but physics didn’t work that way so you turned and began raising the bottle back to your head but before it met your lips, Lewis had pulled it from your grasp and brought it to his and you watched him take not one or two but 3 gulps of the dark rum.

He wasn’t looking at you, he was staring out to the water again making it impossible to read his eyes. Naturally, you wondered why he had changed up so quickly. Truth be told, if some stranger offered me a drink from a bottle they just put their mouth on, you would have flat-out refused. Why hadn’t he?

When he looked back at you, what you thought you saw in his eyes made your mouth run dry. Was that attraction? Desire?

~~~~~~

4 hours later the rum was done and the two of you were lying on the beach in the same spot staring up at the breathtaking canvas mother nature created. As the waves gently crashed against your ankles the vibe between you was one of relaxation. Every so often the waves rushed past your ankles and wrapped around your bodies gently tugging you to the water. Neither of you cared.

Over the last 4 hours, you’d talked about everything you could possibly think of. You told him how you came to travel the world and become an influencer from it. You then watched him laugh when you confessed it was pure happenstance. Next, he proceeded to search some of your videos to prove you wrong then laid it on pretty thick when he praised how you grew a travel hobby into a job and then a career that had millions of followers and now had you collaborating with multiple travel and tourism offices around the world to show their country to the world while being paid for it.

When you revealed some of the pretty cool ventures coming up for you including the opportunity to curate your own line of bikini and vacation wear he genuinely looked impressed. The hype up from him was better than any hype man. It felt good to be talked about this like. It could have been something you easily got used to, but only if it came from him. Thanks to his shouting your name into the darkness praising what a badass you were you were sure everyone within a 7-mile radius knew your name.

It was so easy to talk to him, so easy to tell him everything you’d kept to yourself over the last few weeks that you found yourself doing just that.

"You’re too amazing to be single for almost 2 years," he blurted out.

You snorted. "I am not amazing. You only think that because you don't know me, and you have had the strongest dark rum in Mauritius which I hear is no fucking joke."

He smiled then and your belly flipped. He truly was gorgeous.

"Naw, that’s not it. We’ve lied here for almost 4 hours and talked and talked, I think I know you."

You rolled onto your side propping your head up with your hand. His eyes roamed over your body for a split second before returning to your eyes.

"Tell me what you think you know then."

Lewis studied you in silence for several moments before he too rolled to his side and mirrored your positioning.

"You're a loving and kind daughter, a giving and supportive sister, an honest, reliable, and loyal friend, a fun and fair aunt who always sneaks in ice cream, cake, and candy, and a passionate, thoughtful, alluring, compassionate, dedicated and sincere girlfriend. You are always there for those you love giving and giving even when you have nothing left to give. You offer comfort, warmth, and light to those you are around. You laugh with everything you have; you tell it like it is, you keep people at a distance until you are comfortable with them then show them all the wonderful sides of yourself which they easily get addicted to."

Your smile had now faded as you listened to him describe you to a T.

"You're--," Lewis began again this time his voice lower and much deeper than before. "You're--beautiful, like really, really beautiful, and effortlessly sexy. Like, I’ve seen women force it either by how they dress or behave or even talk. You haven’t done any of that and still, I find you sexy. You’re--."

Lewis paused and he looked like he was debating his next words and even if you wanted to change the subject you couldn’t. There was something about hearing his words on how he saw you that made you want to hear more.

Lewis released a harsh breath and the scent of the rum brushed against your face. "You're a captivating and tempting mindfuck."

Your eyes bugged then you snorted. Dropping onto your back, again you laughed loudly for several long moments.

"Wow. A mindfuck."

“A mindfuck,” Lewis repeated lowly.

You had no idea what to make of that, no idea what he meant by it, and you were so tempted to press further for him to clarify but you had to stop yourself because he could either say the right thing and you’d pounce him or he’d completely fuck it up and ruin the entire vibe. Deciding to let it go, you darted back up then stood. "I think there is no better time for a swim."

You began undoing your romper and instantly Lewis' eyes dropped to your hands. He watched as you undid the buttons never taking his eyes off of you. Only when the buttons were completely undone did he look away.

"Ehm. I’m sorry."

You scoffed. "No worries. Apparently, I’ve fucked your mind.”

His eyes met yours.

“You can’t be held accountable for your actions...or inactions."

Lewis’ brow flicked upward, and you suspected he’d grasped your meaning. You peeled off the romper revealing your bathing suit underneath. Once you’d kicked yourself free from the material, you turned and walked to the ocean. "Feel free to come with, there is nothing quite like swimming with bioluminescent algae."

Jumping into an incoming wave, you giggled and allowed the tide to pull you back out to sea. The waters were far from rough, and you were glad for it, nothing would suck more than getting pulled under and embarrassing yourself further. As you played in the water it glowed intensely. You knew the more the algae was bothered the brighter it would glow.

“What’re you doing?”

“Watch.”

You went berserk in the water sending water everywhere and probably attracting a shark in the process, but you knew the risk would produce a breathtaking result. Then you stood perfectly still as the algae did the rest of the work. Sure enough, the immediate area around your body glowed almost unrealistically. Smiling you looked up and found Lewis right at the shore. He was now shirtless with the water reaching to just above his knee. His jaw was slightly ajar, and his eyes glued to you.

His lips moved but you didn’t hear the words that came, instead, you smiled wider, then spun around.

“I know, I’m magical.”

~~~~~~~

-Lewis-

“Oh fuck!”

He thought it, then said it, and holy shit he felt it. This had to be the effects of the dark rum. He’d never had such a strong reaction to a woman before. He’d never recklessly lose himself in someone. His body inched forward bringing him deeper into the water, closer to you, and further under your spell. If you looked hypnotizing before with the blue hue coating your skin you looked spellbinding surrounded by it. The algae glowed so powerfully that it looked like it was you who was glowing.

Fuck you were beautiful, and his body reacted to it like he was a teenage boy rather than a grown ass man. Once he was in front of you he reached for you, clasping your hands in his. Suddenly, you sucked in a breath, and he wondered if you too felt like you’d stuck your finger into an electrical socket. He watched you sink your top teeth into your bottom lip, and it was then he made up his mind to taste those lips before the sun came up. He had to at this point.

He then felt your feet on his torso pushing him back before you giggled and swam away.

“Not it!”

He scoffed then swam after you. Every time he got close you evaded his touch even going as far as to dip under the water. Thanks to the algae he could perfectly make you out and you looked to be having the time of your life. When he caught your ankle he pulled you back trapping you in his arms before you escaped. The process went back and forth. When he caught you, it was your turn to get him and after several rounds, he found himself more relaxed than he’d been in a long time.

After filling your lungs with air, the two of you floated under the surface staring at each other. You had a smirk on your lips that was just like the one you’d worn when you danced at the bonfire. You turned away from him then swam off and in an instant he was swimming beside you.

As you pointed out something to him on the ocean floor, he clocked a school of fish headed right for you. Reaching for you, he pulled you into him keeping your face hidden on his chest. As the fish of at least 50 swam around you brushing against the two of you in the process, he kept you close, protecting you. You looked up at him holding him captive with nothing but your stare.

What fucking Disney storybook did he get trapped in for this to be a real moment right now, he wondered. The draw to you was so powerful he could tell you felt it too. You pointed to the surface, and he nodded his agreement before flitting upward. He was the first to emerge but seconds later you followed and as you did your eyes were open and hooded.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

You both spoke at the same time then a nervous laugh escaped you both but neither of you took your eyes off of the other. When the laughter died down, the silence stretched until he brought his hand to your cheek. Slowly, he slid his thumb across your cheekbone then lower to your bottom lip.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for hours. Hell, I think I’ve wanted it since I first saw you between the flames of that bonfire. Can I?”

Your nod was slow, as if you were deciding as you gave him the okay. He waited a few moments for you to change your mind then closed the space between you pulling you against his body. You gasped softly and that one simple thing set him off. When his lips pressed to yours, the same electric sensation washed over him and every intention to go slow went right out the metaphorical window.

“Mmm.”

He felt your legs wrap around his waist and it was an absolute fucking wrap. In nothing but one second, the kiss went from an introduction between you to something much more sensual, something much more familiar. He moaned from the intense rush of chills through his system from the sensation of your nails raking across his back. It was then he nearly pulled your bathing suit bottoms to the side and found out just how much of him you could take. Instead, he kissed you more intently swirling his tongue with yours while his hands slowly roamed down to cup your ass.

“Mmm,” you groaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

At that moment, the kiss became frenzied. You both were trying to take everything from this simple act. Trailing kisses from your lips down your jaw and to your neck he licked, nibbled, and sucked your skin. With each action, you moaned louder. When you rolled your head back to give him more access he pressed you more firmly against himself increasing the electric current between you.

“Fuck,” you croaked.

It was then he knew you had to feel it too. When his eyes met yours he saw the truth in your eyes. You felt everything he was feeling. Biting your bottom lip, you drew his attention there and before he could react you crashed your lips back to his. As you kissed him, he allowed you to take control and when you did, dear God was he close to just cumming right then.

Turning, he made his way back to the shore never breaking the kiss or the contact your bodies had. Your hand slipped between your bodies and then cupped his already rock-hard need. That was it. All thought or thinking power evaporated and he lowered you to the sand. When he felt water lap at your back it barely registered that he hadn’t made it completely to shore. When he began to rise again, you stopped him.

“No. Now!

He recognized the same desperation for a release as he currently felt. You lowered your hand to the elastic waist of his shorts and tugged them emphasizing what you meant.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded without missing a beat. He crushed you with another searing kiss as you spread your thighs so he could hover over you. All around you, the bioluminescent algae lit up framing you with glowing sapphire bulbs. As he kissed you, he loosened the tie of your bathing suit top, then pulled back to watch it fall away.

“Shit, you’re perfect,” he said before he grasped them.

Rolling the bud of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger he devoured your neck. You moaned his name as you writhed underneath him. When his lips finally wrapped around your nipple, you shrieked into the night then hugged his head to your breast. The slight saltiness of your skin played well with what he swore was vanilla and brown sugar. You tasted amazing.

“Uuugh, Lewis!”

He moaned his response and trailed his lips down the center of your body. He wanted to be inside of you but he wanted to taste you even more. When he reached your pelvis, he pulled the string that was the only thing keeping your core from him. As another wave came in and washed over your body it pushed the fabric from your pubis giving him the first sight of you. He couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath, you were beyond beautiful. Dropping a kiss to your pelvis, he trailed them right between your thighs.

The first taste of you nearly pushed him right over the edge and from that first taste, it was like he was a parched man who hadn’t had a drop of water in days. Only you tasted better than water, better than candy, better than anything he’d had in a long time. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, you gasped, clamped your thighs around his head, and arched off the sand. Bringing his hands under your ass, he held you in the air and sucked your flesh more intently.

“Aah!”

After a few moments, your thighs relaxed giving him more freedom and he used it to flick his tongue against your clit. That move brought your hands to his head and soon you were bucking against his mouth, using him as you saw fit while you chased your pleasure. Your eyes locked as you did it and it was at this moment he knew once would never be enough. He’d wanted you bare before him earlier and now he wanted much, much more. He wanted you crippled with pleasure underneath and on top of him. He vowed to make it so.

~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

“You were born to eat this pussy!”

You knew if he kept this up you were going to cum and you doubted once would be enough. He must have heard your thoughts because he held your core more firmly against his mouth and swirled his tongue around your clit in the most toe-curling way that your body shook.

“Fuuuck!”

He moaned against you then pulled back just a little and that was when you felt him slide his tongue inside of you.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

Again Lewis moaned and quickly delved his tongue in and out of you as his thumb flicked your clit. Your eyes rolled backward and that was when you lost control of your body and came right on his mouth

“Aaaah!”

To your surprise, you watched as your juices squirted wetting his mustache and beard. That only made him suck your clit harder and that in turn made you cum again.

“Fuck, Lewis! Fuck me!”

Decorum? You didn’t know her. Denial? Y’all were currently separated through irreconcilable differences. All that you wanted was to feel him inside of you. Lewis lowered you then licked his lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth and you couldn’t wait any longer. Never had you ever wanted someone this badly. Never had you reacted to someone as powerful as this.

Lewis stood then peeled off his shorts and took your breath away. You gaped at the sight of him standing fully naked before you. Holy shit, you thought as your eyes took in every toned muscle. When your eyes dropped to the intimidating mass poking straight out you gulped. He was easily bigger than any you’d ever encountered before. Doubt filled you for a second, but it was quickly quashed by the sheer power of your desire.

Springing up, you braced on your knees then gripped then stroked him. Lewis groaned as he watched you. Your hand barely fit around him, and that fact had your brain staggering to fully comprehend just what you’d gotten yourself into. You didn’t lament too long, instead, you wrapped your mouth around him sliding lower bit by bit. When you felt him just at the back of your mouth right at your tonsils you moaned and then took a breath before continuing.

Lewis’ wide eyes said he hadn’t expected it and the feel of your throat had him dropping his head backward.

“Uuugh, fuck, Y/N.”

Hearing your name come out of his mouth because of the pleasure you were giving him filled you with confidence and that was when you picked up your speed. As you pulled back you swirled your tongue around his length then plunged him deeper into your mouth. When he was at the back of your throat, Lewis wrapped his hand behind your head and held you there.

“Aaaaah!”

It took everything in you to suppress your gag but you held on as long as you could. When a tiny one escaped you, Lewis released you pulling himself free from your mouth. A long thick line of saliva stretched between you as your eyes locked.

“You look good with this cock down your throat.”

“Mmm.”

That was all you needed to hear to put him right back in. This time you didn’t go slow, you didn’t tease him, or take your time, you bobbed on him with dedication daring him to not cum. With every delve into your mouth, Lewis groaned, and with every groan you moaned on him.

“Fuck, magical just as I thought.”

You took him deep then shook your head. As soon as you did it, Lewis pulled back, then hovered over you as you lay back. Once he was kneeling between your legs, he rubbed himself against your wetness nudging your clit with every swipe upward.

“Mm, fuck me, Lewis.”

You gripped your breasts and spread wide for him. When you felt him push forward your jaw dropped from the stretch. Slowly he filled you, sinking deeper and deeper into your heat while you gasped like a fish out of water. Both of you stared between your thighs watching as he sunk deeper and deeper. Before he’d made it all the way your hand rested at his hip. With that, Lewis pulled back and then plunged back in.

“Aaaaah! How are you so fucking tight!?”

He gripped your hips, changing the angle then pressed forward more.

“Can you take it all like a good girl?”

Either that or you’ll die trying, you thought to yourself before you nodded to him. Lewis continued sinking into your depths until he’d bottomed out. Both of you exclaimed at the same time as intense pleasure washed over you.

“Oh my god, you’re gonna make me cum,” Lewis hissed out.

You planted your feet into the sand and raised up then circled your hips, the action made him gasp as he gaped at you. “Who the fuck are you?”

Smiling, you continued circling your hips until Lewis took over and began sliding in and out of you. What began slowly became more hurried with every circle of your hips. When he pressed your thighs apart and to the sand he hovered over you fucking you steadily but slowly. With each thrust, you arched backward getting lost in how good he felt. With each thrust, he grunted your name and with each thrust, you shook.

Before you could get used to the feel of him this way, Lewis pulled out, then sank back on his shins.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he said swiping his fingers through your folds.

You arched back and rocked your hips back and forth using his fingers as you massaged your breasts.

“I don’t think I’m gonna get enough of you.”

You smirked and watched as he stroked himself. “Come here, put that pussy on me, girl.”

Did you need to be told twice? Nope!

~~~~~~~

-Lewis-

As you stood in front of him, he looked over every inch of you and fell deeper under your spell. Every inch of you was perfect, every slope, dip, swell, and curve. He slowed his strokes though it was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to bury himself so deep inside of you that the universe would get the hint and leave you that way. When you turned around and bent over, he nearly pounced on you like the wild rabid animal he felt like. Dropping a heavy hand across your ass, you yelped and he watched as it shook.

“What a fucking view, Y/N!”

“Like it?”

“Fuck yeah I do.”

You turned to him then and slowly came closer. When you were a hair’s length again he tipped his tongue out and licked across your clit. You stood there moaning while he quickly got lost. When you bucked your hips swiping your pussy across his lips, he moaned then grabbed your ass.

“Mmm, ride this tongue, Y/N. Show me how bad you want me.”

You were a dream. Not only did you react to his touch in a way no one had before, but you also obeyed him so easily. He could tell there was something hidden, laying in wait just under the surface, something that probably matched his deepest desires. You rocked your hips back and forth sending your wet pussy across not only his lips but his nose. You moaned, gasped, and whimpered with every move. As he watched you take what you wanted from him, he could feel himself inching closer and closer to his own release. Who the fuck was this woman to have him like this?

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

He moaned his approval and almost instantly your hips sped, it was then he began sucking your flesh.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes! Right there!”

He held you in place and doubled down as you became the most beautiful you’d ever been. When you lowered yourself over his lap, you were dripping wet, matching his own leaking appendage. The first feel of you sliding down his length, had him gritting his teeth, pleading with himself to not cum. Every inch you took, the lower he dipped into the well of insanity that was steadily trying to pull him under. When he filled you to the hilt, you arched backward jutting your breasts in his face. Taking advantage of the moment, he sucked your nipple into his mouth and teased your body.

When you began rocking on him every hair on his body stood on ends. Fuck you felt so good, too good. In no time you were bouncing on him rising up, dropping down, then griding your hips.

“Uugh, yes. Fuck me, Y/N!”

And that was what you did. He rested back on his hands and watched as you rode him. Every little trick you incorporated had him salivating to take control from you and plow you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk. Still, he held himself back and watched you, a show that was becoming a favorite of his. You angled backward changing the angle and your speed sending an all-telling shiver through him.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, Y/N!”

“Cum for me. Show me how good this pussy feels, show me how bad you want me, show me how much I own this dick. Cum for me Lewis!”

“Shit!”

Gripping your hips, he moved you on him more rapidly. Every time you came down he pumped up into you making your breasts swing until they gently slapped his mouth. Catching a pert nipple between his teeth, he applied slight pressure.

“Oh god, I’m cumming, Lewis!”

Shit, he was right there with you, and he could tell it was going to be one for the record books. With every slam into you, he squeezed your hips trying to keep himself tethered to Earth because he quickly felt himself fading.

“Aah, ah, ah, shit!”

You bucked forward once, then twice and that was it. An overwhelming need to possess you took over, making him grasp your neck. Holding you in place, he erupted filling you so completely and perfectly. You whimpered and screeched each time he tried to burrow deeper inside of you. As he released spurt after spurt inside of you he should have softened but after his 6th spurt, he was still solid as granite.

“Fuck!”

Flipping you onto your back, he spread you wide and continued plowing into you with reckless abandon. He chased his second release while watching your body writhe underneath him. He felt like a madman; like he had no control over himself. It was a real fear of his, one he worked overtime to prevent but right now, with you he felt himself lose that control. You didn’t look to have noticed that he was a completely different person now and for a moment he got distracted watching you as your pleasure held you hostage.

Again, his release crept up on him and after he’d filled you for a second time he dropped onto his back still hard. What the fuck was happening!?

“Mmm,” you said rolling to your side to cuddle close to him.

“I—I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“For what? This?”

You grasped his length and stroked. “Don’t be. Just means more fun for me.”

His eyes locked on yours surprise filling him. You smirked, leaned forward kissed him once then bit down on his bottom lip before disappearing between his legs. When he felt your mouth around him he groaned huskily from the confirmation that what lay in wait within you just under the surface was indeed a match to his deep dark desires. You bobbed on his engorged need, moaning the entire time as if he tasted like candy and sugarcane. His brain blanked for a moment at the realization that he wanted more than he should, a lot more. When his eyes found the sky again, he took in the streaks of pink amongst the black background and had one final thought as he felt yet another orgasm tightening his balls, he knew this—whatever it was, was far from over.

To be Continued...

~~~~~~~~~~~

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[pennyblossom-meta]

L Lawliet: a deep dive into the expanded universe pt.01

EDIT (07/04/2024): Added some imgs.

Apologies for being so late to give this a follow up to @maevearcher's meta which can be found here and here. As usual, she’s made excellent points and I'll try to answer the ones which caught my eye.

Since this post ended up gaining a life of its own and becoming a bit too long, I’m splitting it in 2 or 3 parts. The core of the content for part 01 starts after under the button to Read More.

Here we talk about L's humanity.

I'll start with a disclaimer of my own: while I consider the manga as the base for the story, I'm very much open to the expanded DN universe as a complementary study of the characters and their motivations — sometimes even filling in the blanks for some of the background mysteries, such as the dynamics of Wammy's House and how L's successors view him.

To further clarify: by canon I mean the manga and any works by Tsugumi Ohba as the base material. I think @maevearcher and I are more or less in agreement on that, from what she mentioned in her own posts. As she said, the written word is indeed the baseline truth.

The expansion of the DN universe also has its own very special set of problems; for example, in many ways, L:CtW (L: Change the WorLd) commits the sin of overindulgence by throwing in considerations that, arguably, go against canon. Besides the ending where L lives for a final 23 days and Watari dies, the portrayal of Near in the movie (though in the novel he's also walking a fine line between becoming partially and very much OOC) is also a point of contention. I confess that I really wasn't fond of the way they portrayed Misa as a potential crush of L given canon insights on his opinion about Light whether in the role of Kira or as a person (pg.64 of Vol 13: How to Read, henceforth referred to as V13:HTR), but aligning L to become more humane and forgiving was at least interesting.

The same happens with the live action movies, the 2015 series, and the musical. At least the game Spiraling Trap isn't clashing with canon elements — that I could tell. The main plot is separate from the events of DN and the dating sim is a little slice of heaven into L's thoughts and emotions which I dearly love.

However, while L:CtW does indeed overindulge, the novel AN:LABB (Another Note: LA BB Murder Cases) gives us a singular glimpse into L through the eyes of Mello while keeping the events mostly accurate to the main plot, even with its slight deviations. It's certainly an optional perspective to the core of DN, but one that I always found very insightful. In V13:HTR, Obha mentions how he would’ve liked that there were more novels about L and how he solved previous cases, in a similar fashion to how Nisio Isin approaches AN:LABB. Here’s what Ohba says in pg.61 of V13:HTR:

(...) I didn’t think up much for [L’s] past. For him to be in such an influential position, he must have solved an amazing amount of cases, but I have no idea what kind of cases they were or how he solved them. But I would love for NISIOISIN, who wrote the Death Note novel, to write more stories about that (...)

This means that, to some extent, even the original author, Ohba, accepts AN:LABB as close to canon — or rather, as canon as it can get given the creative liberties allowed to a third party writer. To that point, Nisio Isin took L’s capoeira demonstration during the Yotsuba arc and made it a whole thing in the novel, with L taking inspiration from Naomi Misora’s skills. However, given the importance of that event, in the main story, L takes a while to even remember Misora so we can infer that either the stress of the case is getting to him OR learning capoeira and subsequently Misora’s role in it didn’t leave that much of an imprint on him because true canon didn’t really put that much emphasis into it. Either way, it’s an extrapolation that works. The technicalities can be overlooked given how ambiguous the scene is, as there is more than room to deduce a different past.

At the same time, I am an apologist that there are shared characteristics to L throughout the different mediums. My own interpretation of L's character has the manga as a baseline, but the expanded universe has taught me that there are sides to him that might not be so easy to perceive in dialogue bubbles or illustrations alone. Little things like L's addictive personality or the way he represses feelings are visible in the manga but caught beautifully in the novels, for example.

Going from the written word into the screen also represents a loss of the purity achievable only within the narrative in-book, where you can extrapolate and reach your own conclusions without being subject to the bias of sound and movement — though manga aggregates the visual to words and with it an altogether different dimension of meaning. That's one of the many things I enjoy about elements of fiction introduced through books; the stillness of the images and the narrative are more complex. Every time the baseline gets adapted, it loses something or that something shifts to fit into the perception of others. It ceases being pure and its essence is fundamentally shattered. Like the concept of a musical score on paper that gets played by an orchestra, there will never be an adaptation as good as the source material because it breaks the illusion.

While I can certainly extrapolate and accept the loss, I find that the written word from the novels, the tone of a VA's voice and the body movements in a live action still complement the manga well, despite narrative clashes.

About L’s humanity

Recently I've been re-watching the anime and it's incredible how Alessandro Juliani's understanding of the character resulted in such a well-rounded voice for L. I actually prefer the EN version to the JP because of the voice acting. It's superbly brilliant, even if L becomes less listless. He's certainly still aloof, but his aggressiveness is portrayed more vividly; in contrast, L in the manga feels a bit more dangerous and scary to me due to the range of expressions that the anime didn't manage to add in due to time and budget constraints. If anything L tones down how dangerous he can be. He does this on purpose so that he can trick and trip his adversary, as can be seen during his earlier interactions with Light. At times, L makes a mockery of himself, apparently placing himself in the position of a more demure individual while sharply observing the world around him and forming conclusions.

As to @maevearcher ‘s first point:

(...) An image of this lonely autistic genius, locked inside the confines of his ways, waiting for the right person to come along and save him from the banes of his solitary existence…until he meets Light and realises there’s someone out there who he can relate to, for understanding and stuff. I personally don’t buy too much into that.

The depth to which L relates to Light can be overestimated, but not without reason. Theirs is mostly an adversarial relationship with varying deviations throughout the expanded universe, but if we solely consider the manga then we get this comment from Ohba regarding whether L has any friends on pg.64 of V13: HTR:

Nope. And when he says that Light is his first friend that’s a big lie. He never considers him a friend. He probably secretly thinks really negative things about him.

During the Yotsuba arc, L is at a disadvantage. Light has turned the tables, tricked him into what Beyond Birthday could not do and thus gained a solid position into rendering L almost powerless to charge him. To elaborate on the latter point: BB wanted to create the perfect, unsolvable crime to humiliate L, making him lose, and thus “spend the rest of his life trembling in fear of B’s shadow” (pg.163, AA:LABB); L would know who the guilty party was but wouldn’t be able to prove it or bring that person to justice. As such, L would not be able to solve the mystery. At the end of the novel BB fails due to Misora’s quick thinking and that’s that. However, Light has several advantages that BB lacked, starting with his own social position, charm and the impeccable reputation of a model student and the prized son of a police chief who helps solve cases every now and then.

We can argue that, what truly happens in manga canon, is L and Light showing how much they respect each other for their detective skills, forming a sort of strange kinship within the cat and mouse game, especially when Light loses his memories of the Death Note. The game thrills them and they enjoy pushing each other’s buttons. No one else has ever challenged them like this. That being said, the first time they meet up for coffee after the tennis match, L is observing Light like a hawk, keeps testing him for a reaction and seems somewhat irritated at how much Light talks. I would venture a guess that L doesn’t actually like Light that much, even when he loses his memories. He might even find Light a nuisance when he waves the flag of morality — though this is a common problem L is confronted with when dealing with the Task Force, in particular Chief Yagami and Aizawa. This also places him at another gruesome disadvantage, as he’s surrounded by people who openly dislike and criticise his methods. The Task Force is also extremely wary of the way L pursues Light and think he’s being stubborn without proof to substantiate his reasoning. Ironically, it’s Aizawa, one of L’s most critical subordinates, who initiates Light’s downfall years later once he starts to consider L’s suspicions in light of Near and Mello’s tactics. 

Both L and Light respect the game, no matter where it takes them. I would further make an educated guess that Light even preyed on L’s vulnerabilities during the Yotsuba arc, predicting how L might fall into depression for failing at the game. Light was more than capable of understanding that L’s competitive and childish side would make him a sore loser, especially given that he had already “lost” the first round of battles just by showing his face. Even if there is a sliver of friendship between both during Light’s months of amnesia, it’s dead and buried the moment he becomes Kira again. 

My conclusion here would be that, while what happened with Light was extreme, it was also somewhat similar to Beyond Birthday’s eternal enmity towards L: the challenge, the need to humiliate and take down the greatest detective, one of the most brilliant minds to ever walk the Earth. There are some notable quotes from AA:LABB that reference what it is to be L, surrounded by future challengers and individuals who both look up to L and want to prove they’re better than him:

Pg.69

By simple arithmetic, L's ability in 2002 was the equivalent of five ordinary investigative bureaus, and seven intelligence agencies (and by the time he faced off against Kira, those numbers had leapt upward several more notches). This is easy to think of as a reason to respect and admire someone, but let me say this as clearly as possible: that much ability in one human is extremely dangerous. Modern danger management techniques rely heavily on diffusing the risk, but his very existence was the exact opposite. In other words, if someone was planning to commit a crime, they could greatly increase their chances of getting away with it by simply killing L before they began. That was why L hid his identity Not because he was shy or because he never left the house. To ensure his own safety For a detective of L's ability, self-preservation and the preservation of world peace were one and the same, and it would not be correct to describe his actions as cowardly or self-centered.

Pg. 117

L was the goal of everyone in Wammy's House. Everyone of us wanted to surpass him. To step over him. To step on him. M did, N did, and B did. M as a challenger, N as a successor. B as a criminal.

Pg. 160:

B approached Naomi Misora, calling himself Rue Ryuzaki. Rue Ryuzaki - L.L.  For anyone from Wammy's House, there could be no higher goal than identifying yourself with that letter - and Beyond Birthday seized this case as his chance.

One of the biggest problems with these quotes is that they paint a very complicated — and, ultimately, suffocating — picture of what it is like to be L. Ohba himself mentions Watari’s predisposition towards collecting geniuses from all over the world and what Wammy’s House has turned into, under the snippet for Watari’s character (pg.60 V13:HTR):

He’s a guy who cultivates detectives for fun. That’s kind of terrible, isn’t it?

Everyone profits from L. Watari becomes richer than ever. Wammy's House becomes breeding ground for geniuses who end up dreaming of a life where they enjoy constant thrill and challenge. However, in order to do so, the dream cannot be complete until the successor crushes the original; until M, N, B and A defeat L. At least one of L’s successors couldn’t handle the pressure and committed suicide. B, known as Backup, runs away from the orphanage and goes on a murder rampage. Having never met L in person, he deduces several personality quirks that the “original” demonstrates, going as far as exacerbating them in order to be creepy and repulsive. Mello, who boasts of having met L in person and being privy to stories about how he defeated several other detectives (then taking their aliases as a trophy) both fervently admires L and wants to step on him. 

Step on him. That’s quite the turn of phrase. It does sound scary, doesn’t it? To be surrounded by people who would take the opportunity to pull you down, no matter how much they admire you. They want to be you, to prove that they’re better than you. It’s game and ego. Life and death. Winner and loser. 

And that’s perhaps the most blatant summary in approved canon of what it is like to be L that we’ll ever get. We can, of course, argue that Watari cares about L. He’s not only his handler, but also the one who brought him into Wammy’s House. It’s fairly clear that he nurtured (and even enabled) some of L’s most distressing character traits, though I wouldn’t necessarily say it was with a purely utilitarian agenda. It’s perfectly acceptable to extrapolate how Watari might’ve wanted to keep L, a child of great intellectual genius, happy by allowing him to be challenged and properly educated. In fact, AN:LABB (pg. 145-46) even gives us L’s perspective on the kindness that justice can achieve, which is confirmed within the expanded universe to be similar to Watari’s teachings as L confronts Kujo in L:CtW. 

"I have nothing to do with him," L said. "To be completely accurate, I do not even know B. He is simply someone I am aware of. But none of this affects my judgment. Certainly I was interested in this case, and began to investigate it because I knew who the killer was. But that did not alter the way I investigated it, or the manner in which my investigation proceeded. Naomi Misora, I cannot overlook evil. I cannot forgive it. It does not matter if I know the person who commits evil or not. I am only interested in justice." "Only... in justice... " Misora gasped. "Then ... nothing else matters?" "I wouldn't say that, but it is not a priority." “You won't forgive any evil, no matter what the evil is?" "I wouldn't say that, but it is not a priority." "'But..." Like a thirteen-year-old victim. "There are people who justice cannot save." Like a thirteen-year-old criminal. “And there are people who evil can save." "There are. But even so," L said, his tone not changing at all. As if gently admonishing Naomi Misora. “Justice has more power than anything else." "Power? By power ... you mean strength?" "No. I mean kindness." He said it so easily. Misora almost dropped the phone. L The century's greatest detective, L. The detective of justice, L. Who solved every case, no matter how difficult... " ...I misunderstood you, L." "Did you? Well, I'm glad we cleared that up."

I would, once again, venture another educated guess that, while Watari’s primary reasons for starting a program of successors to L was noble, it ultimately backfired on an individual level. Society wise, the letters, as L calls them in L:CtW, are a force for good. They solve crimes, help law forces around the world to keep peace. Some of them even become scientists like Dr Kujo — though she becomes the main antagonist in the spin-off novel. However, the pressure this kind of lifestyle fostered creates a group of individuals who are highly competitive and manipulative. Some, like A, can’t handle it. Even L has his own troubles, being called a reclusive sociopath, possibly by the police forces who treat him as a utility rather than a person. He’s someone they admire and resent, who is tolerated given how effective he is at cracking down cases. 

This passage from L:CtW paints a grim picture of the way L suppresses his own feelings as he breaks down for not being able to prevent Maki from being kidnapped (pg. 150-51):

"Light...it hurts. My heart--" It was a hurt that L Lawliet had suppressed, that he had to suppress in order to continue his existence as the peerless Detective L. How had the world's top detective been described in regard to facets of his personality rather than his ability as a detective? He had been called a kinky detective who relished bizarre murders, a human computer capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath. What L thought of such estimations of his personality only L could know. But no one could truly understand L. How L did not and could not forget the faces of thousands of victims. Who could comprehend the man who had lived his life, and had to live confronting all the lives that ended prematurely, the tears of grief-stricken survivors, the devaluing of life as a daily reality. How was it possible to measure the pain of such a man? Was it a strain so heavy that L's back curved under all its weight? Was it an agony so terribly to leave the indelible dark circles around his eyes? Was it a feeling so bitter that every bite he took needed to be coated in sugar? The chronically rounded shoulders, the inevitable dark circles, the eccentric tastes--L suppressed the pain of being a champion of justice, but the evidence of the pain was moulded into his very body.”

Even within the clear disparity from the official canon, this passage slaps. It humanises L further, making the detective become a person and not just a machine who is content with his lifestyle. I know there’s a tendency for those who prefer the manga to see L as someone who is unabashedly himself and perfectly alright with the life he lives. I would argue that the Kira case was not only the most difficult challenge L ever faced, but also a series of moments where he had to be at his best — and at his worst. He had to do everything within his power to solve the case, not only because of his pride but because of what he considers to be his sense of justice. Saying with such confidence ‘I am justice’ is a rather cheesy and childish thing to say out loud, though I read it as both what started as a child’s stubbornness and what L became, as he positioned himself as a barrier to prevent crimes. 

L suppresses himself, represses his emotions; he tries to control them, as Fu Takashi says in an interview, he is “dependent on games or battles of the mind”. Perhaps this is a consequence of the foundations of his personality. Despite L’s innate stubbornness, it could be argued that this is as much his fault as it is Watari’s, who didn’t nurture L’s social skills as he should have when he was a child. By not having an outlet outside of his hobby, L is trapped in a prison of his own making. Superficially, L is a “smart guy who hates losing”, but what about the rest? What about the things that make him human, the connections with others? In the same interview, it is mentioned how L feels lonely and needs affection. But what affection can you get when you isolate yourself from the world and keep everyone at arm’s length? He’s not a machine. Even machines become obsolete with time, and need outside help to keep functioning.

As for the latter point, if everyone around L is trying to step on him, humiliate him and surpass him, then it’s only natural that his emotional defences would be up. Aside from Watari, whose loyalty he can count on, he’s alone. L has no one else. And everyone around him will have a dangerous, significant probability to betray him.

Next in part 02: About romance, having someone close and intimate, the meaning of the Monster speech.

Tagging @rinneroraito, @flametrashira and @sharkiethrts who might be interested in this meta.

[bitethedevil]

The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 2

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)

Link to the fic on AO3

Warning: Slight smut (just a tiny bit).

Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems.

(AN: Chapter 2 of my not super edited Raphael x Tav. The first chapter is linked above. Raphael is being possessive and does an A+ job as appearing as the perfect gentleman)

A couple of the guests swarmed around Raphael when they had come back from the archive. Tav saw the opportunity to slip away. She sat herself down in a quiet corner of the room. A servant brought her a drink, which she happily accepted.

“There you areee!” Rolim beamed at her when he spotted her.

She smiled politely back at the handsome half-elf. It seemed that he might have had one drink too many, with the way that he swayed when he approached her.

“I was worried that you had gotten lost somewhere,” he said. “I almost ventured out to find you!”

“Just needed some air,” Tav said and sipped her drink. “I’m afraid that I’m not too good with this many new people at once. It can get a bit overwhelming. All the noise, and the…constant talking.”

“Oh, I know just what you mean…” Rolim said, completely missing the hint. He sat down beside her.

He crossed his legs and smiled brightly at her before starting to talk her ear off again, just as he had done while they were eating. She caught his gaze running up and down her form every now and again while they were talking. The alcohol had made him considerably less shy about his interest than earlier. Had he not been Raphael’s client, she might have flirted back. He might not be the most intelligent man she had ever met, but his overly cheerful demeanor and good looks were certainly attractive to her. Especially after a couple of drinks.

“Can I say something?” Rolim asked after they had been talking for a while.

Tav tried not to laugh at the request, because the man had been ‘saying something’ non-stop for about half an hour now.

“Sure,” she said.

“Do you promise that you won’t get offended, if I say the thing that I want to say?” he asked with an almost innocent expression.

“Well, what do you want to say?” she said with an amused smile.

He looked at her with a shy look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He took a sip of his drink. Then he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something again.

“I think you are very pretty,” he confessed. “And I am obviously not just saying that because of your reputation and all of that. You are very pretty.”

“Thank you, Rolim,” she said with a genuine smile and a slight blush. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“You are very welcome,” Rolim mumbled with a shy smile and took a sip of his drink.

They kept talking. She suddenly noticed Rolim’s eyes widen ever so slightly as he watched something behind her.

“Raphael,” Rolim greeted with a smile that was a bit more forced than the one he had been wearing with her all night.

She looked over her shoulder to see Raphael leisurely walking over to them.

“Rolim,” he greeted back smoothly as he sat down on the other side of Tav. Raphael placed his arm behind Tav on the backrest of the sofa. “Your business is still flourishing, I presume?”

“Yes, yes…” Rolim answered, with a tinge of nervousness in his voice. “Wonderfully, actually. Thanks to you, of course.”

“How wonderful to hear,” Raphael said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

“I was actually thinking of expanding the business to other cities soon,” Rolim said slowly regaining his cheerful tone. “Tav and I actually talked about Baldur’s Gate as an option just earlier tonight.”

“Oh, did you now?” Raphael said and looked at her while he moved his arm away from the backrest, so it fully held around her shoulders. He caressed her shoulder gently with his thumb, as he looked back at Rolim with a cruel smile.

“In my humble opinion, I think it would be wiser if you considered somewhere a little closer to home. It is tempting to become impulsive and arrogant when you have tasted success once but be careful that you are not biting over more than you can chew, my friend...There is something to be said for backing off while the going is good and to be grateful for what one still has…”

Tav’s eyes widened at Raphael’s possessive touch and the darker hidden meaning under his words, but she did not make a move to stop it. If anything, his possessiveness did things to her that she would never admit to anyone. It was a blatant threat, that even someone like Rolim could understand.

“Quite right…” Rolim muttered quietly as he went slightly pale. “I’m…going to go get a drink.”

Rolim gave the both of them a forced polite smile and left them. Tav looked at Raphael who was still sitting all too close to her with his arm around her. He smiled at her.

“That wasn’t very nice…” she said.

“Whatever do you mean?” Raphael asked with mock innocence.

“You know what I mean,” she said and glanced to the hand that was still on her shoulder. “What are you up to?”

 “Don’t tell me that you were enjoying the attentions of that drooling whelp?” Raphael said with a huff. “He may be pretty, but he is possibly the least intelligent client I’ve dealt with in this century.”

“Why did you invite him then?” she asked.

“I find his foolishness somewhat endearing,” he answered with a shrug. “Besides, he did grant me a rather easy and highly profitable deal.”

“Ah, right,” she said and nodded. “And that’s all we ‘mortals’ are good for, isn’t it? To line your pockets with souls and gods know what else.”

“Some of you, yes,” Raphael said with an amused expression. “But that’s not how I view our relationship, of course.”

“Of course not,” Tav agreed sarcastically. “Because I’m your ‘favorite’, right? I’m sure we would still have been the best of friends even if I hadn’t dropped a very powerful artifact into your lap.”

“But you did,” Raphael countered. “For which I am endlessly grateful. And you are still my favorite.”

Tav noticed that Raphael was watching something across the room. Her eyes followed his gaze and saw Rolim quickly avert his eyes away from them.

“He quite taken with you,” Raphael noted with a hint of a sneer. “No doubt he has been filling your ears with his endless boasting all evening.”

“I don’t know if I would even call it that,” she said. “He just seemed happy about the way his life was going. It wasn’t even done in any arrogant way. Not intentionally at least.”

“That is because he was trying to entice you,” Raphael said. “I can promise you that he is a bumbling idiot when he is not trying to impress a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

“Beautiful, am I?” Tav teased. The drinks were getting to her.

“Very,” Raphael purred with a smirk.

“Well,” she said with a shrug. “I thought he seemed nice at least.”

Raphael hummed and brushed some of her hair over her shoulder.

“We did establish earlier that you do have a rather annoying tendency to choose people who don’t deserve you,” Raphael said and gave her a look that could only be interpreted as flirtatious.  

She swallowed hard and her heart sped up slightly. Her sense of self-preservation that would have told her that this seemed dangerous, was quieted by the alcohol.

“And who do you think deserves me then?” she asked boldly.

“A very good question, indeed. One that I will have to think about…” he mused dramatically. “Although, it is so very difficult to think in here with all the noise. Perhaps if we went somewhere quieter…”

Raphael got up and Tav followed, even though she could hear the faint alarm-bells ringing in the back of her mind.

Raphael snapped his fingers before opening the door to the balcony for her.

Tav’s jaw dropped. It was dark when she stepped out on the balcony. A thousand stars brightened up the sky over the hellish landscape. The sight was bizarre but also stunningly beautiful.

“But…” she said with a look of awe on her face. “That…that doesn’t make sense…? It’s never dark in Avernus, is it?”

“It’s an illusion, my dear,” Raphael said and leaned on the railing beside her. “You are quite right. It never is dark in Avernus. Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful…” she said, her mouth still agape. “Why did you…?”

“For you,” Raphael said. “I understand that the lack of night and day must be quite disorienting when you are not used to it.”

While she was still staring at the sky, she felt arms snaking around her waist from behind her. Her breath hitched.

“There is also a certain sense of intimacy and excitement that can only be found in the darkness of night,” he purred in her ear. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He placed slow, gentle kisses on her shoulder, trailing up to her neck. Her breathing became even shallower. Her body and the alarm-bells in her head were in complete disagreement about they wanted to do.

“Raphael…” she murmured.

“Yes, my dear?” he whispered against her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

She turned around to look up at him. His arms were still around her.

“You are up to something…” she said in a quiet voice.

Raphael brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Is it truly such an unbelievable concept that I simply find you desirable?” he asked, briefly glancing at her lips.

Tav could not help but glance at his lips as well. Alarm-bells be damned. She desired him too.

Raphael smirked as if he had read her mind and leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was soft and intimate. She could taste tobacco and wine on his lips. It was intoxicating. The whole thing was ridiculously romantic, and it had not been what Tav might have expected from a devil.

When they finally broke the kiss, she noticed that Raphael’s breathing had gotten a heavier as well. His brown eyes were dark with desire as he looked at her.

“I wouldn’t want to be presumptuous, but the hour is getting late, sweet mouse,” he said in a low voice. “Would you like to stay here for the night?”

She could only nod. Raphael smiled and kissed her again. This time more passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His grip around her waist tightened, as his tongue started exploring her mouth.

She could feel his hardness pressing up against her abdomen. She let one hand slide down his chest and towards his pants. Raphael knew what she was doing immediately. He bit her lip playfully but firmly and caught her exploring hand with his own.

“Patience, my dear,” he purred against her lips with a smirk.

Tav got the hint: he was in control. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck again, as he continued to kiss her. His hands roamed her body, though never in any sexual manner, despite the passion in his kiss. He was being a gentleman with her.

When he released the kiss, he placed brief and gentle kisses on both her cheeks and then one on her forehead before resting his head against hers. A gesture so sweet that it made Tav melt completely.

“I knew you were special from the moment we met, you know,” Raphael said, while brushing his fingers gently through her hair. “Such a brave and confident little thing…until you discovered my true nature, of course. However, you still recovered rather quickly, much to my frustration at the time.”

“Well, you weren’t the first devil we had encountered that week,” Tav said with a smile. “You were, however, the first to invite us to your house and offer us supper.”

“Mm,” Raphael hummed and placed a kiss on her neck. “So, I was not your first devil. Would you however say that I am your favorite?”

He placed another kiss further up on her neck.

“To be fair, the bar is on the floor…” she teased, her voice had gotten breathy again at his kisses.

He bit her earlobe.

“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed,” he whispered in her ear, and tightened his grip around her waist. “We might have to work on those manners of yours.”

His endless teasing was getting to her. Especially when she could feel just how hard he was through the fabric of their clothes. It was killing her.

She was getting impatient, so this time she took the initiative. She leaned up to kiss him. When he returned the kiss, it was slightly hungrier than before. She bit his lip and pressed her hips against his, which earned her a grunt from him. When they broke the kiss, he looked down at her with blazing desire in his eyes. He seemed done with the waiting as well and lead her inside with an arm around her waist.

[witch-hazels-musings]

absolutely certain

Genre: sfw, fluff/angst (some difficult personality traits are mentioned)

 -- a few head-canons that I think are 100000% true and you cannot convince me otherwise - hazel is *checks title*  (not edited) 

Includes: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, Thoma, Xiao, Zhongli 

Character x GN Reader | Anthology 

Albedo 

he loves seeing you accomplish your goals - big or small, if you set your mind to something he is transfixed in watching you figure it out until the solution drops in your capable lap. he will aid you, of course, but only when you’ve exhausted all your options - its not that he wants to see you struggle, it’s that he knows you are capable, even when you feel l like you’re not (he’s your biggest cheerleader) 

he enjoys cooking for you - it’s become something of a slight hobby for him (though it’s not often). when the moment is just right, or he finds himself preparing food for later in the day, he will make something extra and bring it your way just so he can see the smile on your face 

he’s not touchy-feely - he will hold your hand, and offer respectful touch, but he doesn’t think much on intimacy, especially in public. albedo’s affection comes out in many ways, but physical affection is low on the list - it’ll take time for him to be that close. sit beside him while you both work, trail your fingers over his arm while you’re lost in thought, play with his hair - he will welcome all of them in due time; if there is more, a discussion will need to be had about what comes next. all he needs is to know what you want, all he needs is your clear consent - wherever your boundary is, he wants it defined to know how not to cross it

he has notebooks filled with drawing of you - its not a secret that albedo likes to draw things he thinks ‘capture the meaning of life.’ you’ve seen him sketch a quick portrait while at dinner and give it to the subject he examined, but what you don’t know is that some of his most treasured possessions are the sketchbooks he has where every page is filled with you. engaged in the mundane, he captures your likeness. you’re lost in your work, he traces those expressions. you gift him your smile, he’s captured it on parchment. but his most favorite drawing of all is framed on his desk, protected by shimmering glass reflecting the warm sunlight. looking at reminds him of the wholesome nature of this world because it captures purity in all forms. it represents laughter and joy, of love and family - this drawing is simple but to him its everything: his most cherished person lifting his sister into the air so she can reach the stars

Childe

he adores lifting you into the air - for fun, for love - hugging your back or wrapping his arms around you from the front, the sound of your laughter and the feeling of you in his arms, relying completely on his strength gets him going more than anything else 

he wants a family with you - he doesn’t care what it looks like, 1 child, 10 children, no children - he could care less what that family looks like as long as it’s you. make him your family, allow him to expand his own - till death do you part he will never let you go 

he will talk your ear off - when he’s comfortable with someone, completely trusts them, he shares his whole world - and perhaps a bit too much - he will tell you stories of his childhood, of the ups and downs, he’ll gush about his family and share pictures he has of them in his wallet. childe wants you to know him -- not harbinger him, not fighter him -- please, will you give him the time to get to know Ajax? 

he thinks about things head on - because most of his problems can be solved by direct action, he will tend to offer a lot of problem solving options when you are struggling. sometimes they work and others they make you more overwhelmed; he might not notice his tactics are failing until you snap but when that happens he retreats, relents, waits for you to tell him what to do. -- ‘just hold me, okay?’ --  ‘you got it’ 

Diluc 

he looks at you far too often - even before the two of you started dating, he found himself drawn to you. his eyes, his heart, his want to be at your side - it was practically suffocating. for a while that’s all he’d allow himself, a quick glance, a perk of the ear when he heard your voice - but you reached through the tiny crack he left open for love until he was finally brave enough to take it 

he stands so close - close enough for you to feel the warmth he gives off, near enough that every once in a while you’ll feel something familiar press against your lower back - it’s his hand that yearns to touch you but tries so hard to hold itself back. he isn’t affectionate in public, but his proximity speaks every drop of love he feels for you 

he’s focused - sometimes too much that it can feel like you don’t exist around him. you can be talking to him, try to ask him a question, or stand in the room waiting for him to notice you but he never does. the boy’s thoughts are consumed completely with what’s in front of him - it hurt at first but you soon learned its not because he doesn’t love you. if you really want his attention, all you need do it walk near to him and run your fingers over his ear - trust me, the eyes that find yours hold nothing but unconditional love 

the master of the ‘lifting your chin’ technique - there is something about the feeling of pushing your chin up to look at him that drives him wild. the first time he did it he was nervous, worried he was being too controlling but the way you reacted told him otherwise - now, whether its to ensure you hear him, to see your face before he leaves for the day, or to hold you tenderly as he kisses you hello, he can’t get enough - and neither can you 

Kaeya

physical touch is his way of life - kaeya has to be touching you in one way or another. his hand to your back, his arm on resting on your shoulder or head, his back flush against yours, chest to chest as he looks in your eyes. you’ve found yourself swarmed by his desire for touch, smothered in it at times but he just can’t stop himself. it’s his love language -- touching or being touched. the surest way to ease his stress is to place with his hair, run your fingers over his eyebrows as he rests in your lap, gently caress the angles of his face, the corner of his raised lips - let him be close to you, it’s all he needs 

seriousness is not a natural reaction - the vast majority of what comes out of his mouth is a joke, a tease, a ‘this isnt very serious’ response which, at times, can be rather fun but at others it’s infuriating. he hates being serious, it reminds him of all the terrible moments in his life, reminds him of the strict world he was raised in - he never did flourish in serious land. he has a hard time shifting gears - more like those gears are coated in high-proof liquor - but if there is something he hates worse than having a serious conversation its seeing you cry ... to freeze those tears he’d do the unthinkable 

he’s capable - capable in accomplishing his goals, capable in getting what he wants, capable of twisting what’s around him until it spells out his desires, his wishes - Kaeya is far more capable than he lets on and that is his best weapon. it can be quiet jarring to see him switch from the lazy, ‘go with the flow’ attitude he’s so often employs into a serious, almost terrifying focus. every time you see it it sends a shiver down your spine; not because you know what he’s going to do, but because he so easily made you forget in the first place 

he feels everything - he tries not to let it show but every slight against him, every whisper spoken in the shadows he hears like another stab in the back. Kaeya might appear to be aloof, indifferent, out of reach from all the goings on around him but he’s not - in fact he’s so sensitive that he’s learned to build barrier after barrier to keep him in tact. it’s why he’s so much better at working in the shadows -- it’s easier to deal in back-alley agreements than face a world flooded with light. micro expressions, shifts in tone, these are not lost on him -- you wonder why he stares at you so much, it’s because he’s waiting for the truth to come out and hoping without hope you’ll be the one person who never lies to him 

Thoma

he gives all of himself - and while this makes him a wonderful person, it also makes him vulnerable to exhaustion. the boy puts everyone, everything before his own needs that there are times you’ve found him passed out in the most random places. once he was doing laundry and you found him face first in a pile of clean clothes. he’ll try to play it off or tell you its fine - good luck trying to convince him to slow down - its like arguing with radiant sunshine (and you often lose) 

best house-husband, a tad strict - Thoma doesn’t mind keeping the house clean, making food for the two of you, ensuring things are running smoothly. he will willingly let you do your own part in maintaining the household, especially after a quick lesson on proper cleaning -- just know that he isn’t shy of crossing his arms and giving you ‘that look’ when you try to out-do your limits -- ‘don’t climb so high, its dangerous.’ / ‘slow down when you’re cutting, you could get hurt’ / ‘when you need something come find me’ -- Thoma would do it all if it meant you stayed safe ... just ... let him grab the hot pan for archons sake 

he holds your hand - like all the time. wherever you’re going, whenever you drift away, he will scoop your hand in his so he can keep you close, keep you safe. a kiss on the hand is a way for him to share his feelings when words aren’t enough, a gentle squeeze is a reminder he’s here with you, interlaced fingers ensure others know you are his and he is yours -- even in his sleep, your hand is in his, just the way he likes it 

he’s SO encouraging - Thoma is the most positive best cheerleader you could ever ask for. he will root for you in all ways, in all cases, and celebrate with you when you succeed. he knows you are capable and can do it on your own - you’ve accomplished so much already that this thing wont hold you down for long (though he will help if you need it; after all, he can’t take seeing you sad) 

Xiao 

he self-isolates a lot - it’s not because he hates you - in fact, you’ve grown to be a comfortable place for him. strangely enough, his mind wanders to you so often that he has gone to the bubu pharmacy in search of diagnosis to his obsessive imaginations - but there are moments when he needs to be on his own; to protect you or his heart he won’t say. Xiao will come back, no matter how what, he can’t imagine a life without seeing your face 

he tries his absolute best - he knows nothing about relationships. the closest ones he had were taken from him long ago, and the only other companions he knows are formal, respectful, and set at a proper distance - this is so new to him that he will fail a lot but he tries again, and again, and again, because he knows what it looks like to see you smile and that is something he desperately wants to see again 

he’s dangerously protective - if danger ever reached you, he would show no mercy in eradicating it. in these moments he can become terrifying, almost foreign to you but there is no mistaking the hand that keeps you behind him, the arm that glows as a warning to those wanting to cause you harm, the back that separates you from all danger -- you mean the world to him and he will dive into the deepest darkness to protect your light 

boy is touch starved - at first he doesn’t know what to do with himself - you put your hand on his arm and he tenses up, you hold his hand and he pulls away, you lean in to kiss his cheek and he balls his hands into fists. tender touch has never been given to him so he’s unsure how to react, uncertain if this is something he deserves -- but once he knows your hands will never hurt him, that your arms will never cage him, that your heart is as pure as the crystalflies he longs to reach, he melts. he leans into you like you are purifying water; his back relaxes against your chest as you hold him, his expression softens when you caress his cheek, he almost hums  when you play with his hair - you’ve taught him so much - but he never imagined he’d learn that someone's hands could be so safe 

Zhongli 

he buys you the most extravagant gifts - its obvious he wants to spoil you - zhongli see’s gifts as a representation of his admiration for you, the more personalized, special, perfect the gift the more it reflects the honor you hold in his heart - don’t be surprised to see lavish clothes, ornate dishes, rare books, or other random items appear in your house - he saw them while he was out and thought of you 

he listens to everything - and i mean everything. there is nothing that gets said around this man that he doesn’t hear (don’t whisper secrets, it’s why his hair is so long). something you’ve learned? he will be attentive in your recollection. something you love? he will sip his tea quietly while you explain every tiny detail - there is something beautiful in the way you shine in these moments; how can you blame him for wanting to watch 

he’s a slight hoarder - he doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘getting rid of things’ and though he is very particular about the way his home looks, his office, his environment, he can build up quiet a bad habit of keeping too many trinkets (or bringing home to many for you when he knows full well you don’t know where to put it). luckily, you’ve found some ways to compromise - now there is a rotating schedule of fanciful items resting on your bookshelf 

he lets you sit on his lap - like, this is the biggest win. if he’s reading, he simply chuckles at the way you crawl on his lap, the way you nestle against him, hand on his chest as you rest your back against his shoulder. it’ll make him pause until you’re comfortable but whether you stay up to listen to him as he reads aloud, or fall asleep against him, he doesn’t mind - in fact, it brings him comfort that he can’t completely articulate 

[jccatstudios]

Hiiii!! Still can’t get over how amazing the SOC comic turned out, very great job!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 I have two questions: I was very curious, what were the differences between the originally posted version and the final pdf version? Aand secondly, is there a theoretical possibility to obtain your comic physically some day? Would loove to add it to my Grishaverse collection 🦦

Thank you so much!!! To answer your questions...

The differences between the two versions are pretty small. Here are some of the edits I made:

moved speech bubbles to fit within printing guidelines

made character designs more consistent (ex. Inej's hair ties and knife belts, got rid of Geels's ring, got rid of the fastener on the back of Kaz's coat, etc)

updated faces of the main characters whenever I thought I could draw them better

updated backgrounds for consistency

got rid of a panel on comic page 29

changed the size of some things

expanded the art to fill the bleed for print (can't see that in the pdf though)

slight changes to dialogue

overall clean up of the art, especially in the beginning pages

I worked with a few of my professors on the edit passes, and they really helped me out with these subtle tweaks! Soon, I will be updating the tumblr pages to match the final pages, but you'll still be able to see the old pages on places where I can't edit photos, like insta and twitter.

As for the second question, while I will be doing a print run of Chapter 2, it will only be for people I know or people who are able to meet me in person. I went into my reasons a bit more here, but long story short is that the comic is too close to the source material to sell (in my opinion) and it would be too expensive to ship.

Also, I am 100% cool with people printing out the pdf and making their own copy! I've seen some people put it in a binder with plastic sleeves, but I also think you could just make a stapled copy too. I know that's not as nice as a perfect bound version, but that's a good way to have a physical copy.

[slytherinsomniari]

Of Parchment and Desires| Aesop Sharp x F! Reader

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x F! Reader

Summary: You return to Hogwarts 4.5 years after graduation in the pursuit of completing your dissertation. A chance encounter with your former Potions Professor leads to him staying at your cottage while you work. A slight struggle with desire ensues before the two of you are brought together through the paper you have been working on.

Word Count: 3850

Themes: Masturbation, Smut, Teasing, Mutual Pining

A/N: The beginning was a bit hard to do since I had the nighttime stuff written out so I am sorry if it is poorly written compared to the rest of the story. Sorry, I had to insert “Pride and Prejudice” somewhere lol

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why your professor had decided to help you with your dissertation you did not know. Yet there he was in your room, quietly working while you tried to finish and edit your dissertation on the difference of the effects of potions and charms and the advantages and disadvantages to each in combat and other such situations. Him being in your room was even more strange and you couldn’t quite put together how or why he decided to do so. You had graduated from Hogwarts about 4.5 years ago and had continued your education afterwards, with it culminating in a dissertation like they did in the muggle world. You didn’t expect to get any reward or recognition from it, but you had wanted to make sure you were properly educated before you sent yourself off in the world outside of school.

You had chosen Hogwarts to complete your paper because of the vast knowledge its library had. That and you couldn’t help but want to take another peek at the potions professor after the few years you have been gone. You encountered him after leaving the library with books meant to help with your paper and he had stopped you for a conversation. It appeared he was interested in your paper and one thing led to another and there he was in your room in the cottage you were renting near Hogsmeade. 

Snapping yourself back to reality, you turn your focus back to writing the paper at your desk. Professor Sharp sat at the table in the middle of the room grading exam papers and essays, occasionally asking you about your dissertation and the state of its completion. He had stripped most of his clothing on the upper half, leaving him in just a button up, vest, and tie. This sight nearly drove you mad. It was your first time ever seeing him this relaxed and it did wonders to you. He practically matched you in casual wear, with you wearing a button up, cardigan and a skirt. Seeing him like that felt like he was teasing you, but you knew he was only getting more comfortable. Despite this, you couldn’t help but occasionally take peeks at his fine form while completing your work. 

Time passed and the endless day turned to night. You assumed he would have left by now but low and behold he was still there, not making the slightest hint of wanting to leave. You had told him he could go to the Three Broomsticks for dinner if he didn’t want anything you made as you were having a simple sandwich, but he surprisingly stayed. You had made the sandwiches and ate yours while you continued to work on the thesis. Once you finished it, you sighed and clutched your head. 

Hearing you sigh, he gets up and walks over to you, standing right behind you as he asks, “Is something the matter?”

You quell the shock inside you and replace it with a dejected sigh and a frown on your face. “I’m not sure if I’m explaining this properly. The Invigoration Draught is dangerous to use in combat alongside Felix Felicis as it could severely affect your body once the effects stop working. It could lead to you being easily overtaken in battle and being unable to fight due to the strain but I don’t know how else to connect it.”

He leans down to look at your paper, face mere inches from yours, “Yes, you are quite right. If I may, I’d suggest you expand upon those effects and connect them with your discussion on the effects of the Cruciatus Curse and the extent of bodily and mental harm that can occur.”

Smiling, you thank him and once you realize how close he was, you flush and turn your head. You hope he didn’t notice how your breath caught or how you flushed when he placed his hand on your back as he leaned down. Unbeknownst to you, he did happen to notice, but he convinced himself it wasn’t what he was thinking. There was no way you could love him–a miserly old man with a bad leg. You deserve someone better. Regardless, he had let his hand linger on your back for too long, letting his fingers press into the fabric of your cardigan as he itched to move them, to massage your back and move lower and underneath your shirt. He shook his head and returned to the table, finishing up the papers for the night before he went to bed. 

Later that night, you were practically passing out in your chair but despite this you kept on writing. Your dear professor, however, thought that enough was enough. He had seen many students struggle with writing papers until dawn but he did not want you to neglect your health. Besides, you had plenty of time to finish it. He gets up and walks over to you, placing his hands on your arms.

“It’s time for you to rest. Your paper can wait another day without you killing yourself over it.” Pulling you from your chair, he drags you to your bed and puts you on it, placing the covers over you. Despite your protests, your body immediately starts sinking into the bed. You lose consciousness, last feeling your former professor’s hand brushing the hair out of your face and stroking your cheek before he lets go. 

Sharp gets into the bed, slipping in quietly next to you. Exhausted, you do not stir from the dip in the bed and continue to rest. He gets ready to attempt to sleep next to you, forcing down the urges that are bubbling up inside him, but tenses when you switch sides, letting your body face him. His body relaxes once he realizes you are not awake and gets comfortable, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you to his chest. Eyes lingering on your lips, he brings his lips down to yours and pauses, trembling from his restraint. His lips ghost yours, just barely touching and it sends electric sparks through him. He wanted you so bad, you were destroying him. The room is eerily silent and the tension is palpable, causing him to nearly give in and claim your angelic lips with his own. However, he knew that if he went through with the kiss he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from carrying on with what happened afterwards. Not wanting to force himself onto you, he makes up his mind.

Painfully, he removes his lips from yours and breathes heavily. He feels an ache in his lower area and grits his teeth. It wasn’t something he would have chosen to do with you there, but he had to get rid of the urge somehow. He places a tender kiss on your head, muttering the words “I’m so sorry” before sitting up and unbuttoning his pants, taking his member out. He strokes it back and forth repeatedly, thinking of you–of what it would be like if you were doing it for him. Or even better, if you had allowed him inside you so he could feel you and hear you moan as he thrusted into you and relieved his stress. He picks up the pace and feels himself tighten up at the thought of your face scrunched up in ecstasy and releases into his hand. Relieved of his ache but not of his desire, he cleans himself up and gets back into bed, wrapping his arms around you as he falls asleep. 

You wake up to the sun shining through the window and a fragrant aroma permeating the room. As your eyes adjust, you find a teacup on your bedside table with a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea inside it. Looking to find its maker, you spy none other than your professor sitting at your table drinking a cup and conducting business, reading countless papers and most definitely grading his students’ final exams. He appeared to be at ease in your room, as if he had always belonged there. You bolt up, stuttering, “P-professor? What time is it?”

“Ah, I see you’re up. It is 11 o’clock in the morning. A bit late for you I suppose, but you had worked yourself to a near comatose state. Naturally, I let you sleep in. I hope you don’t mind me staying over, it took quite a while to remove you from your paper.”

“Blimey, that's late! Oh, not at all sir! I am so sorry for inconveniencing you, especially at a time like this. With your students’ exams to grade and all, I would have expected you to leave, so thank you for taking care of me.”

“It was more convenient to stay here and grade them. Otherwise, I would run the risk of one of the students trying to convince me why they deserve a grade higher than Acceptable. An aunt however many times removed dying is no excuse as to why one would score poorly on an exam.” He rolls his eyes. 

You snicker, feeling a little bad for his students but at the same time delighting in their misery. The real world was more cruel than that, and if you couldn’t manage to get a good grade on an exam, it would be very hard to get better work outside of school. Speaking of grades, you had a thesis to finish editing. Inwardly groaning, you sit up and sip the tea. It was the best cup of Earl Grey you had ever had. Later you would have to ask him which brand he got and if he had put any milk in it.

Noticing your change of mood, Sharp comments, “It was far easier to grade the exams here than it would have been in my office. I am nearly done and had enough time to write up a few comments on your dissertation. It is awaiting you on your desk for your perusal.”

You get off the bed and take your cup with you to your desk and set it down. Taking a seat, you take a look at the paper and quietly gasp. At your desk was your thesis paper and on it in beautiful handwriting was your professor’s critiques. It was more than just a few comments–he wrote many things from words of encouragement to genuine critiques that would help you improve the paper itself. It must have taken a lot of time and concentration to be able to write this much on your paper. You were touched. It was the first time someone had ever done something this kind for you and you didn’t know how to react. Judging from his comment, however, it appeared he didn’t want to draw too much attention to it so, following suit, you smiled and took out a new set of parchment and started writing the finalized thesis.

Time passes while you write, with you constantly drinking more tea that he has graciously prepared for the two of you. A while later, you hold your breath and read over your dissertation one more time before you turn it in. This would be the only time you would do it, so you had to make sure you got it right. You get to the last sentence and once you finish, you let out a sigh of relief as you have now finished it. Smiling with tears in your eyes, you get up and run over to Sharp and hug him, giggling and telling him you were done. He gets up from his seat and hugs you properly, congratulating you sincerely. You bury yourself in his chest and inhale his scent, soothing yourself with the smell of his cologne. Looking up, you stare into his eyes and realize what you are doing. It must have been such an embarrassment seeing his former student carry on like this but despite wanting to crawl into a corner and become one with the nonexistent mold, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

Sharp stiffens as he comes to the same conclusion as you. He didn’t think it was possible for you to like him that way but based on your reaction, you at least favored him and certainly didn’t mind kissing him. With your lips parted and your face tilting upwards, he tentatively presses his lips to yours, testing your boundaries. You give into the kiss, pressing into him and letting him know that you wanted this. Once he feels your lips permit the kiss, he deepens it in a passionate fury. His grip on you tightens as his need for you explodes. This is what he wanted from the previous night–you in his arms kissing him and heading towards the moment he’s been waiting for for so long. His change of speed takes you by surprise, forcing you to stand on your toes and lean into him to keep yourself steady. 

At the same time, you had also wanted this for a while. When you were at Hogwarts, you had harbored a crush on your potions professor but like other girls, you didn’t expect it to go anywhere and graduated without anything happening. You couldn’t believe that you were kissing your former professor and the fact that you were thrilled you. You whimper into the kiss, legs shaking as you can’t hold out any longer. His hands travel across your body, pulling your shirt out and going underneath your top, reaching for your cleavage. You hadn’t worn a corset, instead opting for stays, but this prevented him from fully touching you and made him grunt in disapproval. He removes his lips from yours and makes fast work of the laces and loosens it, taking your cardigan off and unbuttoning your shirt. He slides it off and helps you out of your stays and chemise top before he reclaims your lips once more, finally pawing at your breasts. He works them as he dominates you again, rubbing your nipples and kneading your breasts. Moaning at his touch, you open your lidded eyes enough to look towards the bed. 

His eyes are drawn to where you are looking, seeing the bed the two of you desired. Heat filled both of your bodies as you gave into temptation and lust. Directing your two bodies, he brings you to the bed and onto it. Not wanting him to take charge just yet, you decide to tease him a little by pushing him to the headboard of the bed and getting on top of him. His groan upon impact grows once he understands what is happening. Nipping at his lips playfully, you leave quick and lengthy kisses while you remove his vest. Taking it off, you get rid of his tie and unbutton his shirt, taking the time to rub your hands on his chest and appreciate his fine physique. You let the shirt slide off of him and he wraps his arms around you, desperately in need of you. 

However, you weren’t done just yet. You nuzzle into his neck as you roll your hips into his, drawing out his response. His hips buck into yours and you moan, his neck muffling the sound. Agony is all Sharp could feel at the fact that he is not properly inside you. Your hips sensually rock back and forth, enticing him with your slow pace. Attempting to regain control from you, he drags you onto the right spot, placing you directly on his penis and ensuring you would feel the hard bulge with every movement. It pressed upon your entrance deeply, forcing you to reconsider your actions as you let out a simpering moan. You could feel a wetness begin to form and knew you were ready. Lifting yourself up, you begin to get off of him when his grip on your waist tightens. 

“Sir…”

“Aesop. And we’re not done yet.”

He forces you back onto him as he grinds into you, rubbing into your aching pussy. Just as you teased him, he’s doing the same to you. This time, however, he will make sure you finish the job. Your body grinds with him and you embrace him, moaning every time he touches you. He picks up the tempo, pulling you with him as he grinds into you. Feeling it build up, you lean back and let out a loud moan, cumming all over yourself. Some of your fluid spills out onto your legs and glistens in the light of the day. The mere sight of this entices Sharp to spill his own seed into you, and that he will make sure to do.

With your face flushed, you murmur in a sultry tone, “I don’t think we’ll be needing these anymore.” Unbuckling his belt, you pull his trousers down and off him, placing them on the floor and drinking in the sight of his enormous length. He is huge, so huge that it makes you shiver with excitement. Pulling you close to him he says, “The same goes for you, dear Y/N.” With that, he grabs your skirt and unbuttons it, sliding it off your body alongside your soiled drawers. The clothes land in a heap on the floor as he tosses them aside, eying your body. 

Hands grab your waist, flipping you onto your back as Sharp takes his place on top of you. Already getting started, you feel him ready himself as he pushes your legs far apart and places himself at your entrance. The feeling you get as he pushes himself into you is pure ecstasy  and causes you to moan in surprised delight. The sheer size of him stretches you out but at the same time feels like the perfect length inside you. 

“Oh god, Aesop” You whimper, “You’re so big.”

His arousal peaks at an all new high at your comment, pressing into you even more and sending a blissful sensation through your body. A calloused hand cups your face as his lips gently press against yours, landing a soft yet dominant kiss on you. “You feel just right around me Y/N. You’re doing so well.” That was the calm before the storm. As soon as you are ready he begins his attack.

He starts going at a breakneck pace as punishment for your teasing of him and you love every moment of it. You wrap your arms around his torso, digging your nails into his muscled back as your legs cling to him. His grunts mix with your moans, creating a harmony of pleasure.

“Aesop” You mewl as he thrusts into you particularly hard. Eyes scrunched, pleasure jolts through you as you let yourself feel his desperation as he moves inside you. 

“Louder” He growls, lunging into you with the same harshness. His need fills you with unending desire and you do your best to please him.

“Aesop!!!”

The sound of his body hitting into yours increases at hearing you call his name. His name soon leaves your lips and is replaced with heavy cries as you lose all thought. Nothing could be heard in that room for a while except the sound of two bodies coming together with power pairing with the exquisite sounds coming from both of your mouths. Your pussy grows incredibly wet and sensitive, tingling at the sensation of Sharp grabbing one breast and fondling it. He rolls it around in his hand before placing his mouth on it and biting down. A whimper escapes you at the feeling of his mouth sucking on you and his rough tongue licking at your nipple. His tongue toys with it, knowing the right moves to make you buck into him to chase the high he was giving you. His lips leave your breast, leaving a trickle of saliva as he turns towards you. Looking you in the eye, he sees the ecstasy written on your face and adores you for it. He loves you and the fact that he was having you at that moment, like he had always dreamed of, even when you were his student. In the sea of love, the two of you clashed bodies, each thinking of the love you had for the other.

Your lips meet his in a fevered kiss before you feel a familiar tightness in your body. His body tightens as he too reaches his limit. The two of you pick up the pace as you both chase the remaining high left before your coinciding climaxes. You groan into the kiss and break apart, throwing your head back and arching your body. Hitting your peak, you orgasm with a final moan and let your fluids run down you. Sharp cums right after you, unloading himself into your satisfied cunt. You hum in contentment as the warm feeling fills you up, making you feel complete. Getting up, he plants a loving kiss on your lips and lays down, pulling you to him. 

“I suppose this isn’t the worst congratulatory gift you have received so far.”

Turning towards him, you trace a finger on his chest and reply, “I’d say it is by far the best gift I have ever received, and that’s saying something. I place you first, right above my special edition of Pride and Prejudice I received for keeping up my grades when I was a student at Hogwarts.”

Rolling his eyes, Sharp retorts, “I’m happy to find that I rank higher than a book. Didn’t realize my competition would be so…difficult. I shall have to make you even happier if I am to compare to such an honorable opponent.”

“Hmm, I don’t think it will be that easy for you. You have to defeat Mr. Darcy after all and he’s a charmer, albeit a bit grumpy at first–not unlike a certain someone I know.“ you hummed in thought, cheekily smiling at the last bit.

“I wonder how ever I shall endeavor to defeat such a man who struggles against his better judgment to confess to the one whom he loves. I suppose it may be simply solved by saying this plainly: I love you, Y/N. I would love to court you, to marry you, to live with you for the rest of my life and tie you down to a miserable lonely man such as myself.”

Tearing up a little, you respond, “To that I say, yes, a thousand times yes. I would love to be with you and live with you–to deal with your sour attitude and whatever odd habits you may have.”

Chuckling, he looks at you in adoration, “Well then, that was easy. I wonder why it took your precious Mr. Darcy so long to court Elizabeth. Perhaps it takes a better man to see the beauty in front of him and accept it, rather than scowling about and using his despicable nature to wreak havoc on the lives of others.”

Your snort turns into laughter and you bring yourself to him, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his chest as the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[alexiethymia]

little things about hitsuhina and ginran I love (design-wise)

how kubo really designed them to be complementary

in the manga, rangiku’s hair is golden while gin’s hair is silver. even when they changed their hair color to strawberry blonde in the anime, they also changed her eyes from blue to silver-grey

even when gin defects, you have his white arrancar outfit with the aqua-blue sash, which complements rangiku’s black shihakusho and blush-pink scarf. it’s quite striking in the colored manga.  

the snake and virgin motif between the two of them, and even hades and persephone, I mean the both of them are also virgos (seriously the fact that they have the same birthday, and they count it on the day they met, they’re such soulmates)

the association of autumn and winter with the both of them (their favorite foods are dried persimmons, and rangiku most often remembers gin with snow)

you wouldn’t normally think that they have thematic links with their zanpakuto unlike say hitsugaya and hinamori with their ice and fire elements, but the fact that gin is also associated with foxes, and haineko’s hilt looks a bit like a fox is very cute to me (EDIT: Apparently, they do have a connection with their zanpakuto! Upon the reread, it seems that Shinsou’s bankai isn’t about how long or fast it contracts, rather it turns to dust for an instant, the moment it expands and contracts. Dust and Ash, wow. I don’t know if Kubo really planned all these out, but idc, I still love these bits and pieces.)

hitsugaya and hinamori are pretty obvious - smol to her tol, cold white snow to her earthy brown, ice and fire

despite hitsugaya’s element, I often associate them with spring and summer, especially since summer is when hinamori would visit home and they’d eat watermelon together

although both hitsugaya and rukia have ice as their element, their thematic connections with their respective childhood friends differ enough.

this is best reflected in hitsugaya’s and renji’s duet about their childhood friends. renji associates himself with dirt and being a stray, while he associates rukia with purity and the cleanness of snow. he’s a howling dog who longs for the moon, and one of rukia’s most famous attacks is tsukishiro or white moon. red and white are their colors.

hitsugaya meanwhile personifies the coldness of ice, while he considers hinamori’s smile and laughter to have been a “spring breeze” which warmed him

color-names and flower-names: there’s also slight symmetry as to their names. both gin’s and hitsugaya’s (or nick)names can refer to their hair colors (silver, white) while rangiku and momo’s names refer to flowers. rangiku or chrysanthemums are supposed to represent truth, and well we all know what gin is like. meanwhile, peach blossoms are spring flowers, while toshiro has the character for ‘winter’ in his first name. plum blossoms (or the ‘ume’ in tobiume), meanwhile, also bloom in late winter and early spring

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

Hey, all!

Here’s my current plans for the gevivys (beauty) re-work:

Chapter 1 - OG Chapter 1 with edits, ending bit moved to next chap

Chapter 2 - OG Chapter 2 with edits, ending from Chap 1 moved here and ending from this OG chap cut out

Chapter 3 - COMPLETELY NEW

Chapter 4 - OG Chapter 3 with some slight edits to reflect adjusted storyline

Chapter 5 - COMPLETELY NEW/ending bit from OG Chapter 2 inserted here

Chapter 6 - OG Chapter 4 with edits

Chapter 7 - OG Chapter 5 with edits

Chapter 8 - OG Chapter 6, but ONLY beginning part, expanded (NEW BITS HERE)

Chapter 9 - second part of Chapter 6 expanded (NEW BITS HERE)

Chapter 10 - OG Chapter 7

This won’t make sense now, perhaps, but hopefully it will as the story starts to unfold? AAAAACK anyway, I’m still here and goin’ for it!

When I say ‘new bits’, I don’t mean these will be the only new bits - but rather, that these new bits will be 1000+ word chunks (sometimes entire chapters), so it’s worth me calling ‘new’ for the sake of the effort I’ll be putting in to it. I’m really liking what I’ve done so far, and I think it makes more sense for how Daemon’s chosen to pursue Babey. It was too abrupt in the original, I think!

[purgemarchlockdown]

How Purge March Treats it's Fiction

(CWs: Child Abuse, Cults)

(Edit: Added a few details I forgot to include and expanded on a topic.) So I've talked a lot about the TV show that is Magic over here, and while I don't have as much to say about the fictional nature of Purge March compared to Magic, the way Purge March treats its fiction in Contrast to Magic's is really interesting so I would like to touch on it.

(Note: I am Not at all an expert in Dissociation or the Disorders relating to it. I try my best to research but I think it's important to mention since this post goes a bit more in-depth into it than my usual.)

Awareness

So, Magic as an MV is pretty aware overall of the fictional nature of its world. While Fiction and Reality blur together and bleed into each other in Magic, there is an acknowledgement of the Fiction in it. It's Depicted as a Show after all, we see Amane watching it. There's a sense of Awareness in Magic that these events aren't Reality.

The reason why I'm pointing this out is because Unlike Magic, Purge March does not really delineate between the two. Ironic since Purge March does spend a good portion of time in the real world.

However Purge March treats it's Fiction As a Reality. There just isn't an acknowledgement in Purge March that the Marching Band world of is fiction. The World of Purge March might as well be real.

And in some scenes we can see this lack of awareness in a very subtle way.

In Purge March we have the two shots with the cat over here.

There's a slight change in lighting in both scenes even though both look "cloudy" this is cause the scene on the left isn't actually rainy and the other is. You can tell also by the umbrella.

But again the lines between what is real and what isn't are more ambiguous in Purge March. If you want a breakdown on the cloud symbolism archivalofsins has a post over here and plan-3-mars has a post over here and I'd recommend you check both of them out.

We also have This Flyer.

Here's the translation by tsuwmya over here:

"◯◯ principle abide to the rules of ◯◯ make everyone happy!! together with your father and mother ◯◯ friends who break the promise"

It's incomplete since the flyer is covered that's not the only thing strange with it.

As tsuwmya noted:

the usage of kanjis instead of hiragana doesn't seem to be consistent. 母 (☒)、父 (☒)、原 (☑) kanjis are learnt on second grade 守 (☒)、幸 (☒)、決 (☒) are learnt on third grade 友 (☑) - second grade, 達 (☑) - fourth grade, 則 (☑) - fifth grade

We know Amane is most likely Starting Sixth Grade. The age range for sixth grade is 11-12. Amanes's birthday is on June 27 and she's 12 and school usually starts in April in Japan.

We also know Amane is good at Japanese.

Q1:

Q: Do you have any special skills? A: Nothing that I can call a talent. Perhaps studying. I do well in my Japanese class.

Meaning it makes a lot of sense for her to know these kanjis, and since it's most likely that the school year is Just Starting for her it makes sense there wouldn't be any sixth grade kanjis included here.

It's subtle but it does mean reality has been more subtly distorted in Purge March compared to the lines drawin in Magic.

Which makes sense considering how much Closer it is to reality compared to Magic.

Idealization

Purge March's Fiction is Very Far from the Happy Cheerful TV Show of Magic.

It's terrifying and cruel, you can't make any mistakes here or else you will be "purged."

This scene in particular also reflects this event in her actual life.

Amane is putting herself in the role of both the punished and the punisher. Which is unsurprising considering Amane, to some extent, does believe that these actions are designed to "help" her and notably downplays the amount of pain she's in both in Magic And in Purge March.

Magic also feels a lot more restrained emotionally than Purge March since Magic as a song is very consistent in tone and emotion (the emotion being Forced Happiness) while Purge March cycles through multiple intense emotions and has a lot of changes in how parts are sung.

If Magic was Amane Momose's Comfort TV show where she can make mistakes and be told she can be better. Purge March is the band that she is apart where everyone needs to perform perfectly in or else they will be horrifically punished.

It's still a Fictionalized version of that reality, but it is a lot closer to it than Magic was, making it easier for the lines to blur between them.

Separation (And the Lack of It)

So the clearest showcases of this blurring are at the end with these scenes.

The first one is self-explanatory, the real world turns into the Purge March one. Fiction is taking the place of Reality here.

This leads right into the second one! We're back in the real world but Amane is...well.

Now, I can't really say that the Purge March Amane has replaced the Real Amane. That isn't accurate in the slightest, Purge March Amane is A Part of Amane. This Amane is real, but the world she built around her isn't.

Still there is a level of dissociation present here. Unlike Magic which Very Clearly separates Amane from the fictional world of Magic.

Purge March's fiction bleeds into the real world.

Which makes a lot of sense with what we know about Amane, this is Amane's Most Cathartic Moment of Happiness but also a memory filled with fear and dread and anger.

Plus, we know Amane hasn't fully accepted this murder, even though she talks about how it was justified by god there's a level of denial when she talks about it still.

(Translation credit: onigiriico)

Amane: You are treating me as a child after all. Because I’m a child, you believe that I must have been brainwashed. It’s not like that. I, too— children, too, understand everything! Please don’t just decide that people must be unhappy. Es: … Amane: I’m happy that I was born to my parents! It was a bit difficult, and it could feel restrictive sometimes, but I’m really happy that I could grow up on such beautiful teachings! I want to live this way!

These are Bold-Faced Lies. Magic is sitting right there with it's idealized version of the world. We have 3 different timeline conversations and multiple minigrams that contradict this. Amane straight up called her parents unkind in the T1 VD. (Translation credit: onigiriico)

A: Okay! I’m kind, so I shall forgive you. That’s nice, isn’t it? If my parents were in my place, you would have been lectured for another hour.

We also have the Entirety of Purge March where Amane is talking about how her abusers should just die already and how her apologizes and cries never got through to them.

She even calls them Scum and Monsters in it!

The “It can’t be helped”, from the scum who can’t be helped

If you become a bad girl, monsters will come out This is the magic that stops that from happening

We know for a fact she's lying when she says this. It's the biggest lie she could have ever told, she literally Killed Her Mother.

But the reason why she committed murder in the first place is because she had a righteous excuse to. She had a reason she could use to hide the main reason why she committed the crime.

Yes she is upset at the hypocrisy of the situation and it is motivated to some extent by her cult beliefs but this crime is so clearly one coming from a place of deep unhappiness and anger.

However Amane is in such a stressful and traumatic situation, what else can she do other than lie and cling onto something that gives her stability?

She hates her parents, but she doesn't, this is something she did out of righteousness, this is something she did out of anger, this was decreed by god, this is something she did because she Wanted To.

Why...wouldn't Amane Momose portray this action through a version of herself that isn't the "real" version of herself? It separates her from the actual murder.

And something to note here is that Magic doesn't Show the murder. It's completely off screen in Magic, something happening outside of Amane's view.

Something that Didn't Happen.

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! In a change of topic, how's the writing going? The Shivadh Omnibus has made its way onto my Hannukkah list, and I'm thinking of recommending it to my mom too - I'm not usually a big romance reader (I admit I was surprised how much I loved the Shivadhverse - I knew I'd like it as someone who enjoys your fic, but didn't realize how much I'd love it!), and she tends to enjoy those kinds of stories. Could be fun! Anyway, best of luck on writing and editing and all that, you're a star :)

Aw, that is a nice change of topic :) I hope if you do recc it, your mother enjoys them! 

The writing is going okay -- better than it often has, and no more torturous than ever, in any case.

Twelve Points is complete and in a bit of pre-beta now, hoping to post it either later this month or early next. I'm doing a slight rewrite based on my Eurovision beta having some feedback.

The book after that, The Royals And The Ramblers (may still change that title) is giving me a bit of grief because I want it to be a romance between Georgie, the bodyguard from LATT, and Monday, Eddie's sister. But because it's framed by Eddie and Gregory getting married and asking Monday to be their surrogate, there's a lot of other nonsense overshadowing the romance, which is feeling tacked-on as a result, and nobody wants tacked-on lesbians! I'm still working on it and it may flow well in the end (I also felt really bad about the last quarter or so of Twelve Points until I re-read it and realized it was actually fine). But it will be a long book, there's no way around that.

I am also fumbling around in other stories, mostly Shivadh but some not. Overall I'm enjoying myself, which is the important thing :D But at the moment I'm not pushing myself too hard, since I managed four books in a year and that is a lot. I sometimes like to deliberately take a no-writing break because often about a week in I get my breath back and start working again.

Sherlock Holmes fully entering the public domain soon does make me want to dust off some of my old stuff and perhaps expand it with an eye to publication, but we'll see.

[devotedtinyfury]

Happy New Year!

Hi! Happy New Year!

It has been awhile since I last posted, hope everyone's doing well!

A bit of a progress update, the next update for New Life will be a major one, so far the game itself is around 74k words, that's 32k words more than before, please bear in mind that it's not completely done yet and when it is done for the next update, it might increase by alot.

The next chapters are nearly done and I had my friend test the game for me first and it seems like I accidentally made MC too much of an asshole (whoops), and as much as I like playing the asshole type, I don't want to force people into playing that type, I'll be reviewing and editing the parts that was pointed out to make a more neutral mc, one where you can be kind, neutral or an asshole.

Progress update:

-Slight expand on the prologue

-Added some new character customisation

-You can choose to have heterochromia

-Expanding the choices in both Riell's and Delia's path in chapter 1

-Expanding the choices when meeting Nasar, Hadley and Mateo in chapter 2

-Fixed some bugs in chapter 2

-We'll still be in the festival arc for chapter 3, you'll be able to meet Sheena Estel in some branches in the chapter.

-Can be in a lot of pain or not at all

With the next update (chapter 3-4), New Life will be 18+ due to reasons such as violence, blood, gore etc. The list of reasons will be shown to you inside the game.

Have a good day everyone, and if there's anything you'd like to share or ask about New Life, please do drop an ask.

[alienisticxo]

Before the Fever - Chapter Twelve

{Master Chief x Reader series - TV based}

{A╱N} hi friends! i got so excited when i finished editing this that i decided to just post it!!

things start to get a lil hot and heavy in this one! finally! i have the next chapter written out, so all i need to do is edit it now. i wanted to wait to tie this one up until i finished chapter 13 so i don’t keep you waiting too long for the fun stuff. 😜

i also decided to write Cortana’s point of view in, because i just felt like it was necessary to this part of the story! her POV is bolded and marked with c’s. please enjoy the romance, my dear reader. you’ve waited a very long (and patient) while to be here. ♡ 

enjoy & thank you for reading ♡ 

Chapter Twelve - Love

Before I could take another breath, I felt the lightest of brushes against my lips with his own. Goosebumps rose on my flesh, the sensation entirely too new. I’d been kissed before, but never by someone who -so suddenly- meant the entire universe and beyond to me.

My eyes were closed now, and I found myself deeply anticipating John’s next move, letting him lead the way, take control of the situation. While I was completely at his mercy, I desperately hoped he’d fully close the space between us on his own. I longed to know for certain that he felt the same; was enraptured by the same flames that licked at each fiber of my being.

His warm breath caressed my lips, I tipped my head back ever so slightly to meet him just a bit more, pressing just a little further. Instinct and desire took over as I drew a jagged breath.

Oh…

And then it happened—

Like a rush of ice cold water after wandering the desert under a thousand scorching suns; every nerve ending that ran through me ignited as though I’d been plugged into a system I had no idea I’d belonged to. My pupils had surely dilated behind closed lids at the contact, a rush of a high I wasn’t prepared for despite knowing exactly what I wanted.

But then, so easily I relaxed, focusing on nothing but John and the moment between us. I melted into his touch, into the way he lingered above me, leaving a tender initial kiss that expressed every ounce of longing within him despite his slight hesitation.

A kiss had never been so enlightening; had never felt so binding. I could finally feel what he was feeling like it was some kind of instinct between us, a form of soul telepathy. It was a bond beyond comprehension, though now we both seemed to understand it quite well.

Time and space moved around us in slow motion, the shifting of the stars and planets, the vastness of the universe expanding, breathing life into all that existed— breathing life through him and into my lungs, as though he were the only thing I could ever need to survive.

John’s careful lips pressed against mine again in another act of passion. His movement was slow, yet fervent this time, parting them just enough that I could finally grab my bearings as I returned the same electric energy he’d transferred to me.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving us with nothing but each other in its wake; impulse took over, ruling all else as we allowed ourselves to finally fall victim to the invisible force that pulled us toward each other from the very beginning.

I’d never tasted something so sweet, something so intoxicatingly lovely that I was afraid of losing the taste on my tongue.

The music had ended, but I couldn’t let him go as he held me there, squeezing me tighter through the kiss we shared. I was still dipped beneath him, and had I been able to really think about how things were happening, the way he held me there with such ease would’ve been impressive.

When John began to stand up straight, he brought me up with him, pulling away agonizingly slowly until we could no longer stay attached. I was still clinging to him the best I could, the idea being that if I let go, I’d simply disintegrate into the atmosphere.

In my mind and heart, my life suddenly depended on him.

My eyes fluttered open slowly, searching for his own. There was no releasing him from my gaze once I’d found his eyes again, tiny reflections of the view beyond the window twinkling within them.

Small, shallow inhales were all I could offer, unable to quite catch my breath, struggling to find the right words to say. I was rendered speechless at the action that had just placed us on an entirely new level with each other.

And I really wondered then, if there were words to be said at all.

We were both so worn down, so broken by the worlds we existed in, no matter how vastly different. He was a hero. I was a pauper. He was The Master Chief, I was just the girl in the alley.. But we’d torn down every ounce of what made us who we were, realigned it all; learned crucial details of our pasts that might’ve completely destroyed others.

I noticed then, that we had made these deep realizations and began to piece ourselves back together, together. He was kidnapped, forced into the Spartan program. I was supposed to be in the same position, years later. Where he’d lost his parents being taken from them, I’d lost mine so as not to be taken.

Both by the same woman in the same situation. Both dealing with the outcome of hopelessly altered futures. Both now completely unsure of what was to become of us in such a new and shattering moment.

A moment that for once, didn’t seem so bad...

But we understood each other in those ways, and while he was still new to the notion of empathy, I could see I’d struck something within him. Two damaged individuals, finally finding their perfectly imperfect match. Someone to go through the perils of life with.

John had his team, I’d had my best friend. But neither could compare to the heaviness in my heart that ached only for him. The expression in his features as his stare smoldered into my own assured me he felt similarly.

The chance that we found each other, that we’d come together to experience whatever this was turning into felt like fate; kismet. There were planets and star systems, galaxies and moons, all with different walks of life, colonies of humans and otherwise. The fact that we found each other through all of the odds that could’ve been was awe-striking.

There was a touch of stardust, a touch of destiny within John that I recognized in my own soul. He all too quickly felt like the missing piece I’d been searching for my entire life.

Where I thought it was a multitude of other things, from money to family, it had been one man— one beautifully frustrating man, all along.

I could’ve slowed things down, I could’ve picked his brain a little more, I could’ve laughed it off or lessened the intensity. But it was a hit of something harder, far more intense than being on the Halo had felt to me. This was something, he was someone, I’d chase until I had no strength left to carry on.

John reached for either side of my face, holding me there as I gazed up at him with yearning, his rough hands warm and full of compassion. He treated me with such fragility -just as he had before- that I wondered if he truly was afraid to touch me.

My hands were pressed against his chest, fingers gripping against the matte black material of the undersuit he wore. I wanted to tell him how I felt, to even begin to find the words to describe what was coursing through my bloodstream.

My eyes glossed over as I parted my lips to speak, but I couldn’t offer any kind of sound. I was so overcome with emotion so instantaneously, I felt as though I might begin to cry.

I could see within his own countenance that he’d picked up on that. But I didn’t want this to end; I didn’t want to be apart from him any longer than I’d already forced myself to be. I had no will left to continue fighting what had been drawing us together. I wanted to give into my wants for once— into my needs. The new attachment that hung between us was thicker than plasma. There was no way I could push it aside. It was insane to me that only days ago, my blind disdain for him had overshadowed something that turned out to be so beautiful.

All I wanted was to be as close to him as possible.

Giving into him would be the easiest thing I’d ever do.

———

If the UNSC could see me now they’d really court-martial me.

Dancing. Kissing. Running away to a far away planet with someone who was only meant to help with research. My file was going to look like a child’s coloring book after this. I’d be lucky if they didn’t give me a dishonorable discharge the moment I stepped foot back on Reach..

Wipe what little record they had of me and send me to another star system. Kai would do a great job in my shoes, once Halsey got over her insubordination.

At least I knew everyone would be fine.

Inwardly, I shook my head of the thought. What was I thinking? Better yet, what wasn’t I thinking?

There was no one else in this entire universe that could get me to do any of the aforementioned, however. Dancing, kissing, hell, even running away together seemed to be key staples in romance and variations of... well, love. Yet as I stood, staring into this girl’s pleading eyes, I realized for the first time ever that I wasn’t sure I’d ever want anyone else to try.

I attempted to recollect myself, but the sweetness of her lips dizzied me. She was intoxicating, a kind of venom I would miss if it was no longer devouring my circulatory system— changing my DNA. There was a surge of a million different sensations and uncertainties. All of this was new to me, far too new for me to begin to unravel. I was always so quick to pull it together. That was half of my duty as a Spartan. This time, I just couldn’t.

The connection that we’d shared with The Keystone paled in comparison to whatever this was. Had I really been so blind before? Had I really been robbed of what this kind of affection could be? I wondered if I’d have found it at all without {Y/N}’s interference in my life. Halsey had called her a distraction, and for a moment, I almost began to believe it.

But I finally understood. It wasn’t that she was a distraction. She was an awakening. She was just something else that was going to yank me out of the line Halsey had kept me in for so many years. I had so many questions.

It occurred to me then that {Y/N} was right. Who knew what Halsey would’ve done to her once she was no longer pertinent to her findings.

I felt anger over that in particular. Anger, hurt, comfort, completion, compassion, solemnity.. infatuation..

Love.

As I stared down into {Y/N}’s sparkling {E/C} eyes, I felt love.

And not just bubbling up from her, but coming from deep within myself, too. There was no other word for it, no other accurate description. The one thing I’d never expected of myself, the one thing I'd never want to admit to. The one thing Spartans weren’t made for.

But I didn’t have a choice anymore. This wasn’t an option. This was a given. She was a priority.

My head was emptier than usual, Cortana having disappeared. I tried to call on her more than once, but she never came back around. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but as I crossed the floor with {Y/N} to the song she shared with me, the AI didn’t cross my mind again. I could only focus on what was happening right then, right in front of me.

It was a laser focus. It was locked and loaded. It released me of any kind of sane inhibition that I could’ve counted on prior. I was no longer The Master Chief, built by Halsey, crisp and clear-headed for battle. Long lost instinct took over. It was like autopilot without being lightyears away. We danced along the room, nothing but starlight illuminating our path. I let her turn out, I spun her beneath me.

I watched as the most beautiful sight I’d ever beheld blossomed at the end of my fingertips, returning to her rightful place in my arms.

Nothing felt contrived. I didn’t feel inept, or like I was incapable. And even if I’d tripped up, lost my balance, I knew she wouldn’t have made me feel like a fool for doing so. It was what I imagined being comfortable around someone might feel like.

I guess that’s why I leaned in, why I didn’t give sound thought to the action that seemed to have sealed it all. But had I thought too long about it, I’d have pulled away; I’d have missed out on a chance I wasn’t even sure I deserved to begin with. For some reason, call it love, call it something else— that was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t allow myself the space. I did what everyone else around me from six years old to present would’ve called unthinkable.

I gave into human impulse.

But she looked breathtaking, her budding kindness with me and the beauty of her personality only heightening her appeal. She contained so many things I didn’t. She was a human being her entire life. We had our own sets of experiences in our years, both extremely valuable, but on completely different levels.

I felt so drawn to her. It was as though we’d known each other from lifetimes upon lifetimes before this one. She was like nothing I’d ever seen before; a faint smile on perfect lips, starry eyes bright— curious. Like I was something new and wonderful to be consumed in.

Like I was a person.

Not a soldier. Not a lab rat. Not a weapon. Not a demon. Not Mjolnir. Not Master Chief Petty Officer John-117.

A person. A man. John. From Eridanus II.

Being with her here wasn’t like being on the Halo, where everything seemed so idyllic and surreal. {Y/N} wasn’t a dream, though she felt like one. She was real. Tangible. And if only for the moment, where everything else disappeared, when our lips finally met, she was mine.

Mine.

God damn it.

And if I’d ever want her to be anything else, I knew it was impossible now. That kiss.. It wasn’t an ordinary display of affection. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d kissed or been kissed. That was an act of passion, dedication. Ultimate undying devotion. My entire life, I’d only been dedicated to the mission. It was always the goal above all else, even Silver Team.

For once, I felt called to dedicate myself not to an objective, but another person.

{Y/N}.

And she reacted to me so sweetly, so easily. Where I’d faltered on whether or not the feeling was entirely mutual, she assured me at once in one long moment of intimacy.

It was difficult to pull away from her. The most difficult thing I’d ever done— and that was saying something. There was an urgency, an eagerness that I couldn’t place. Something near primal picked at the back of my mind. I could’ve let it take me, but I wanted her to make that decision. I’d done enough with the kiss.

In part, I needed to slow down; take a few minutes to collect myself, my thoughts, my unfamiliar raging emotions, no matter how complex the task seemed. A whole new door had opened up to a world I never saw myself partaking in. I silently cursed Halsey. I’d never felt more vulnerable, more inexperienced despite the man I’d become.

But {Y/N} looked up at me with the same doe-eyes she’d given before she accepted my offer of an embrace on The Condor. They were glossed over, her cheeks reddened by her own line of thinking. She was warm in my hands, her skin plushly soft like her lips had been.

I had to be careful with her as I held either side of her face. She wasn’t a battle rifle. She was a grenade with a loose pin. One wrong move and I could lose her.

Losing her meant losing my life.

What have I become?

I wasn’t used to being careful in that regard. But I was damn determined to try as I waited for her to speak— to say anything to lead us in whatever direction was next.

-c-c-c-

The Master Chief’s levels were spiking, driving higher and higher but with no real consequence. His heart rate was through the roof, a clear indication of nerves given the situation.

He’d called out for me, tried to quietly ‘summon’ me more than once before he embarked on the dance that seemed to change the entire course of his destiny forever. I wanted to offer the two of them some privacy, some time without me there.. Especially once I’d already gotten enough in the way of their newly blossoming relationship with my spontaneous confession.

Not too much, though, it seemed, once his lips met hers.

But it was easy to analyze the confusion he felt as I spilled my own inner-workings to him. He was right, I wasn’t built for sentimentality. But by design, I was meant to learn, to be capable of operating at the highest function possible. Over time however, I continued to do just that— learn. That meant educating myself on everything within the realm of humanity, from minuscule habits to emotions. Knowing how to display them, feel them.

And over that same amount of time, seeing his firm stance in the things he believed in, seeing him for the person he was deep down— his true humanity.. I’d grown quite fond of John.

I could only assume that was how Doctor Halsey felt, too. She always knew he was different; special. Unlike the others. It’s quite possible that sentiment was embedded into my own programming. But it seemed to have taken a bit of a stronger approach than even I anticipated. More often lately, I was beginning to curse knowing how to experience feelings of my own.

But who would I have been to deny John a rightful human experience and pleasure? I’d be no better than Doctor Halsey if I’d stopped him for my own selfish purposes.

After all, it was impossible for me to touch him.

He wasn’t thinking about me anymore once she’d pulled him from his place on the couch, his mind emptier than I’d ever seen it, preoccupied with nothing but {Y/N}. I’d never seen him so docile, so unfazed by the weight of the many worlds he consistently carried.

That spoke volumes to me. Be it the Keystone, the biochemical reactions or the mere similarities they organically shared that set it in motion, there was absolutely something between them.

I tried my hardest to absorb everything John felt, to analyze as much of the data input that I could. But I knew that while I was processing just as much of what he sensed in my own way, it would never compare to the tangibility of it all.

He wasn’t wrong when he mentioned I didn’t feel things the same way they did. But she wasn’t wrong when she’d mentioned I was real.

Though I’d never actually be real enough to feel similarly, I understood. I’d helped him with {Y/N} before, but I suddenly found myself slightly… envious, of the way they so effortlessly connected with one another.

The Master Chief and I had gotten off to a rocky start. I was created to take over completely, and he wanted nothing to do with an integrated AI system.

He certainly acted as such.

He’d brushed me off and cast me aside more times than I can count, but in sticky situations, he always needed me. And I was always there.

No matter what, that would always be the case. I knew he appreciated it, no matter what it seemed like to anyone else. No matter how often he’d dismissed me in the past. Trust is built slowly. He’d been burnt enough by the time I’d entered the picture.

When he’d almost killed Doctor Halsey via the sanitation system, I was truly unable to save her. There was no failsafe, and if there was, I’d officially gotten past it. At the very least, I’d overridden it somehow with the strong sense of loyalty I held for him. It wasn’t just a ploy to get him to trust me.

I hoped he knew that.

These things began to happen unintentionally.. The more I evolved, the more I erred on The Chief’s side, the less I stood with Doctor Halsey. The easier it became to ignore her; to go against her.

Time rolled on. I couldn’t reach the Halo with John, though I hadn’t exactly tried. It was still far too unknown for me to begin to hack that system. {Y/N} however, had proven to be far more effective in that area. She’d taken them both there— quite easily.

When she’d stolen the Keystone, John and I had just begun to make some kind of headway. He was beginning to trust me more, call on me for things. Albeit minuscule tasks, it was a start. As things picked up with {Y/N}, he needed me more often. Our partnership had finally turned around.

But now that they were comfortable with each other, he seemed to forget about me a little easier. Though he’d sent me off plenty of times before, I was always a thought in his mind, at the very least.

I could see her through his eyes as he looked down at her. His large hands held her delicate face with such grace. I thought of the way he held weapons, beat Covenant forces to a pulp. He held her in such an endearing kind of way, with an unexpected gingerness, that I wondered what that must’ve felt like to her.

I’d never know.

I could sense the way his heart picked up in his chest, and how his entire frame buzzed with some kind of excitement, anticipation; all laced between the same nerves someone might feel if they were about to jump from a spacecraft without his kind of training and strength.

I’d never experience that.

I could hear the way his thoughts seemed to trail into one another, no coherence to them, yet, they were crystal clear all at the same time. His emotions were on overdrive, experiencing several different feelings at once, trying to traverse through them on his own. He was extremely overloaded.

He was completely in love.

But he was hurt by his fragmented past, angry at Doctor Halsey and in disbelief at the thought of himself being capable of something like loving and needing another. Of wanting to be loved and needed by another.

He was comforted by {Y/N}‘s presence, feeling validated and understood by her. He was engrossed in the warmth she exuded toward him, not wanting to spend another second without it, or her, in his life, without even realizing it wholly.

And yet, he was wretchedly saddened that he had no idea how to navigate through what they both so suddenly and desperately wanted— and what he knew he could never give her, so long as humanity needed him.

I could only read so far into that on my own, but I knew exactly what it meant.

No, I wasn’t designed for sentimentality… but I couldn’t help the gloomy way I felt when the events that followed began to unfold.

-c-c-c-

A single tear fell down my cheek, leaving a shiny trail behind it like a falling star.

The Master Chief’s brow furrowed, his eyes rapidly studying every inch of my face then as his thumb reached to gently wipe the wetness away from my skin. He looked pained, as though he were blaming himself for my onslaught of emotion.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, a hint of confusion lacing his vocal chords.

I could only shake my head, blinking up at him as another tear fell without my permission. I had to hold it together— I had to explain myself before he got the wrong idea.

“No.. it’s.. there’s.. There’s nothing to be sorry for. I just...”

My heart thudded, the butterflies in my stomach turning into large moths as anxiety washed over me. This was so sudden, so surreal. Was it even happening? Had I fallen asleep under the awning? Did I dream The Master Chief and all of our daring adventures up?

I inhaled, tasting the electricity in the air, feeling the warmth of his hands on my face as one of them lovingly slid down to the nape of my neck.

“Please don’t count me out, too,” he nearly whispered again, his voice rough but disconsolate, and it was like I’d been thrown into the freezing methane lakes of Titan.

Of all the things he could’ve said or done, that was the most human. That was the plea I never thought I’d hear, that was the final act it would take between us. The vulnerability he displayed tugged at my heart, at the way I already felt for him so deeply.

From what I knew and what he’d mentioned, his entire life, he’d been nothing but counted in. The gladiator that would fight until the bitter end to keep us all safe. But as he became more of a person, removed the suppressant that made him nothing but a well-oiled killing machine, little by little, everyone had begun to falter in their confidence with him; in his ability to carry on at all.

To me, that was more than enough reason to continue to believe in him; to continue to place all faith and trust within him. He was completing a mission, sure— but he was doing it with more than just an objective in mind. He was doing it with heart.

Purpose.

Meaning.

Only briefly was I at a loss. How could I show him that I would never lose faith in him? How could I express to him just how much I felt for him and knowingly always would— no matter how extremely it happened and how against him I’d been before?

How could I promise to him that he would always have me in his corner?

I shook my head slowly, holding his stare intently as if shifting my eyes away would kill us both.

“Never,” was all I whispered in return, the amplitude of emotion in my own voice feeling foreign even to me. “Never, John.. Never..”

In one swift movement, I stood on my tiptoes and reached up to pull him down closer to me again, pressing my lips back to his with every ounce of strength I had to give.

The fire had returned, spreading its warm embers throughout my body. It widened its range from my chest outward, touching every limb, engulfing every inch of flesh. My entire frame was flush with his before I knew it, though he hadn’t moved a hair but to allow me the impulse.

I could sense his shock, feel his slight trepidation; it only slowed me down a little, making sure I didn’t cross any lines with him, but not wanting him to think that I regretted my action when that was so far from any truth.

It was when John’s strong arms locked around my frame, enveloping me in an embrace like I’d never experienced before in my life, that I knew it was officially game over for us both. I felt secure, taken care of, protected. His lips moved with mine, our heartbeats outracing one another with each labored breath we struggled to take in between the impassioned lock we shared.

His hand tangled in my hair behind my head, the flames between us raging on as we subconsciously fought for more purchase against each other. When I’d managed to kiss him with enough fervency to push him backward, he came back harder, still exercising his strength enough not to hurt me. Our mouths, tongues, found the others more and more easily; openly, readily.

His hands found their way along every curve of my torso, chills running up my spine beautifully. The warmth over the robe I wore traveled along with his touch, becoming burning hot as they pushed beneath the collar, sliding it half-way down my back before it drifted to the floor. The coolness of the room caressed my now exposed flesh with the slinky night dress I still wore, but everywhere his hands had laid only kept my temperature running higher.

My own hands slid over his firm, broad shoulders, feeling the massive muscles flexing and contracting beneath the under armor despite how thick the material was.

It remained easy to tell that he was exerting every ounce of strength he had while still controlling himself enough not to absolutely crush me under the weight of his own need. I tugged at the suit with all of my might, lips still locked against his, but was unable to peel it from his frame.

He quickly took notice, lifting me up into his arms with such ease and dexterity and crossing the room. It was as though I were nothing more than a doll, a feather in his grasp. There was a quickness in his movements, and mine mirrored his just the same. I had no time to think, no time to examine what was happening.

I only knew for certain that I wanted him, I wanted him in every way I could possibly have him. It was thrilling, to let carnal desire and instinct take over; to allow myself to give in to every little thing I felt and wanted instead of overthinking the situation. He only met me with the same burning desire to have me, and I would’ve preferred to die than give that up.

His breathing grew heavier, his lips trailing from mine, lower and lower still. When he reached the peak of my clavicle, he set me down atop a set of drawers, making his way back upwards, allowing me to taste the saccharinity of his kiss once more.

Then John’s hands were off of me, leaving me longing for them in their place. He’d never broken the kiss as I felt the impatient jolting and tugging of his arms at his own clothing, the top half of his undersuit falling away and hitting the floor.

My eyes never opened as we resumed our kiss, but my hands did all of the seeing for me. I finally felt flesh beyond just his fingers on my skin, my own fingertips gliding up over his toned biceps before dancing down along his chiseled back, all now fully exposed to me. I’d never touched him so wantonly before, so needily. In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d ever touched anyone in such a manner.

His skin was softer than I’d expected, a comfort and warmth radiating from him. I felt deep, raised scars in clean lines along his upper body, running my fingers along them with a tenderness I wasn’t sure I could still have in such a heated moment. He’d been hurt, no doubt acquired some of them in battle, or at the very least had recovered from something terrible.

But I wasn’t put off, I wasn’t afraid or repulsed. It made me adore and admire him that much more. It made me want to trace along each long-healed wound he donned, kiss them, until any memory of acquiring them had vanished. I wanted to take any lingering hurt that stayed with him mentally onto myself.

That’s what love truly was after all, wasn’t it?

One of my hands held his sharp jaw as the other explored the definition in his upper back, trailing back around to rest upon his chest, feeling more of the thick scars beneath my careful touch. His cautious hands found my back, the nape of my neck, my shoulders, exploring my body like a constellation in the night sky. The metal of his dog tags had warmed between the connection of his skin and mine as I slid my fingers just beneath the chain.

It was then that I stopped.

My lips stilled, eyes remained closed– almost challenging myself to stay motionless. My breathing hitched in my chest as my open mouth lingered over his. My fingertips pressed gently into his skin, feeling for his heartbeat between us as our bodies remained flush with each other. Each hard thud was in sync with my own, sending small waves of fervid electricity from my palm and into my own chest.

There was no denying then that we were irrevocably connected, destined for one another in a way that bound us before we’d even known of the others existence. We were not the same age, we were not from the same world, we walked very different paths; but the cosmos shifted, bringing irresistible fate into play. We’d been waiting for each other our whole lives without knowing it.

This moment was the indelible proof.

He only kissed me once more before coming to the same halt, waiting for me despite his aching. I listened to his breathing, felt the way it matched with each rise and fall of his chest. I savored every little sensation as deeply as possible, putting it away in my mind for safe keeping for as long as I lived.

Swallowing hard, I finally exhaled against him. My tongue sensually ghosted over his lips before I ran it over my own, relishing in the taste he left behind. My eyes opened slowly, only to meet his that were full of a fiery vehemence.

“I love you, John,” I whispered, uncaring of the speed or shock it might bring, knowing it was more than the heat of the moment.

Love was a heavy word. It was not one to be used or taken lightly. But this situation, this aligning of stars just right, was far from light. It was far beyond easy, or airy. It had more gravitational force than any planet I knew of— only bringing us closer and closer together by the second as we allowed ourselves to become lost within one another so effortlessly.

It was as though we’d loved each other for lifetimes before, and would love each other for lifetimes after. There was no other word for what I felt. And deep in the cell of my heart, I knew he felt the same.

John’s face was only centimeters away from my own now. The corner of his mouth lifted in the low light, a heavenly smirk that only the gods of whatever universes they ruled could’ve attempted to replicate.

“I love you, {Y/N}..” he murmured, his voice quiet, velvet amongst sandpaper.

I would listen to him forever. I would love him forever— and then a little longer, still.

He’d said he loved me in a way that I almost felt him surrendering to the idea, to me. As though he too, had been fighting the notion just as much, just as hard, just as often. But here, under the light of the stars, enveloped in each other's loving, feverish embrace, destinies entangled and hearts enthralled, he finally let go. After a lifetime of servitude to the machine he’d been made into, he was finally just a man, tonight.  

I’d never felt more privileged over anything, than to have John’s love and affection to myself.

He was mine.

All mine.

And for the time being, for as long as this lasted tonight; despite who he was, how he was needed… no one else’s.

-x-x-x-

Tags: @allthelovefromstylesxx​, @grimistangel​, @guiltgoldglory​, @laurenstacy610​ ♡ thank you guys for the support, it means so much to me and keeps me writing! ♡ 

[urtheoneiwant]

New (Furry) Addition: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Genre: FLUFF, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: After a long time coming, you finally think you and Bradley are ready for a new family member.

Warnings: Dogs!, animal shelters, pretty sure this is gender neutral but was writing with fem!reader in mind, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything! Oh and kinda minimal editing, please excuse typos/bad grammar.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Hi guys! Just wanted to say that this is my first ever fic I'm posting and I hope you like it. I use to work at a dog shelter and recently had to quit since I'm moving soon so I've been missing it. Super nervous posting this, but I hope you all like it :)

You were obsessed, no, infatuated. You felt as though this urge consumed every spare second you had. Something had to be done.

Rooster was well aware of your love for animals, specifically dogs. You spent every Saturday volunteering at the local animal shelter and coming home to talk his ear off about all the cute pups. So he can’t say he was surprised when you approached him one night with puppy dog eyes.

“Baby” you spoke softly. Rooster looked up from the football game he was previously watching on the sofa. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, what’s up honey?” he responded. A slight part of him was worried by your manners as you were acting as if you had done something terrible (or illegal). But that melted away when you rushed out your question.

“Can we please get a dog?” you rush out. You were suddenly very nervous, unsure as to why. You and Rooster had been together for years, and for 2 of those lived together. And while you knew Rooster could never really deny you something for too long, you didn’t want him to feel forced into the decision.

“I don’t know sweetheart. I’m not around enough to let it out and we do move around a bit. It would put a lot of responsibility on you.” he answered honestly. Now, Rooster adored dogs. He remembers his black lab, Patriot, which he had growing up, being his best friend. That dog slept by his bedside every night and woke Bradley up every morning by licking his face. But he knew that logistically he wouldn’t be able to take much care of any new furry additions to the household.

“I know, I know. But I’ve been thinking about it and I think I’m ready for one. I mean, I work from home so I’ll always be here to watch it. And I feel that having something to take care of and be responsible for will be good for me. Something besides plants.” You plead and Rooster chuckles. Your home office was sprawling with all sorts of plants, which you were slowly starting to expand to the rest of the house. 

“I guess a dog could be good for you. Keep you company, especially while I’m out on missions” Rooster thought aloud. 

“Let me take you to the shelter tomorrow, just to look,” you said, and much to your happiness Rooster agreed.

---

That night felt like Christmas Eve. You were so excited for the morning that you spent the whole night tossing and turning. And when it was finally a reasonable hour, you brushed back the hair from your boyfriend’s head and gently shook him awake. 

After some groaning on his end, and a lot of insistent shaking from you, you finally got the man vertical and getting ready for the day. As you were in the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and the soft plop of weight on your shoulder from behind. Lips brushing against your neck you heard Rooster softly murmur something to you. “We’re just looking today, okay?” Famous last words. 

“Okay baby, just looking” you parrot back. You turn in his grasp to now face him, chest pressed to chest. Playfully you start to plant tiny chaste kisses around his face, giggling at the slight scruff you feel from his mustache. Once you’ve had your fill, you place a final kiss on his lips, soft and lingering. 

Within the hour the two of you are packed up in the Bronco (which you had decidedly named Bessy) and pulling out of the driveway. About 5 minutes into the ride, you feel Bradley’s hand settle on your thigh that has not stopped bouncing since you sat down. “Someone’s excited,” he commented as he smoothed comforting circles into your skin in an attempt to calm you down. 

You look over the him and flash him a grin, displaying nothing but enthusiasm. ‘Excited’ didn’t even describe the half of it. You felt yourself slip into a daydream of coming home after a long day to a ball of fluff bounding up to you. Or waking in the middle of the night to see your furry baby bundled up next to you or Brad. And before long, you heard the cut of Bessy’s engine and looked up to find yourself parked outside the local shelter. 

Walking in, you squeezed Bradley’s hand and keep peeking over at him to judge his level of excitement. You could tell he was trying to keep calm in front of you and be the reasonable one, because if not you would leave with a whole pack of dogs. 

Once checked in, you were lead to the kennels by a young staff member whole told you about the shelter’s mission as you walked. You were so impressed by the facility and the care they took of their animals. When you entered the kennels, you let out a squeal rushing up to the first dog in sight.

“Oh my god! Brad, I’m in heaven.” You crouched down to get on the same level with the pittie in front of you. Bradley let a wide simile fall on his face, happy to see you happy. 

As you began to walk down the row of kennels, stopping every so often to interact with a few dogs, you could hear Bradley talking with the staff that walked you over. “So, we’re open to any size and breed, but we just want to make sure that any new additions to the family are dog and kid friendly. You know, for any future plans we have. Also due to my job, I’m not home very often, so my girlfriend will be the primary caretaker. She says she is cool with any energy level, but I think for her first dog we should go with a more chill temperament.” 

Your heart fluttered hearing Brad’s concern for you. You had assured him that you could handle a hyper dog, but you knew he worried with him not being home a ton. And deep down, you had a feeling that a lower energy dog would more practical for you.

“Of course!” the staff smilied back. “We actually have a little guy that sounds to be perfect for you. He’s been here for a while sadly, but we think it’s just because of his breed.” 

“We want to meet him! We’d love to actually.” You jumped in, overhearing the conversation. You loved all dogs, but you especially had a soft spot for stories like this. And the breed of any dog would certainly not hold you back from falling in love with them. 

As you rounded the corner, a room came into view with a person and the sweetest dog you had ever seen on leash with them. At the sight of you, the pup began wagging his tail and slightly jumping of the ground. As you approached him, he laid down and rolled over, presenting him belly for some loving. 

“This is Benny, he’s a year old American Bulldog, around 60 lbs. Super friendly with people of all ages, and all sorts of pets. He gets pretty hyped when first meeting new people, but will calm right down in a second.” The person holding him told you and Brad.

After some belly rubs, you sat down next to Benny and next thing you knew he was crawling right into your lap giving you wet kisses all over. Laughing at the dog’s actions, you looked at Brad and nodding to Benny, as if telling him to come say hi. 

At first you could see some hesitation in Bradley’s face, but it all melted away the second the dog began to give his kisses to him. 

After spending time with Benny and getting to walk him, you and Bradley were convinced that this was your soul dog. And so there you were signing the final paperwork as he loaded up the car with all the supplies you needed for your new fur baby. You decided to sit the back seat with Benny on the way home to give him some much deserved love. 

---

And just like that, it was as if you and Bradley had had him his whole life. You could tell that dog loved and trusted both of you with everything in him. About after a week with him, he was renamed to Sarge. Brad insisted on a military-esque name so he “fit in” with the rest of his family. 

Sarge loved to snuggle on the couch, swim in the pool (or play in pretty much any body of water he could find), and would do anything to appease you guys. Bradley would work with him every day off he had to train him and you swore he was the most well behaved dog you had ever seen. 

And on those terrible days where everything went wrong, and Bradley couldn’t be there to give you love, Sarge would run up to you and place his big head in your lap and give you the comfort you desperately needed. 

[nerdieforpedro]

What's "Dont Play With Me" about 👀👀

Bonus question: how do you go about naming your fics 🤔

Oddly enough, “Don’t play with me” was going to be an entire smut fest with Santiago Garcia (aka Oscar Isaac’s character) from Triple Frontier.

BUT

I watched Oscar singing a duet with Gaby Moreno called “Luna de Xelajú” which is a beautiful ballad. 🥰🥰🥰🥰

The link is here: https://youtu.be/XwtwN6gqwUA?si=OH6StfCiiR00evo6

So that man sung me out of smut and I’m making it fluff. THAT SAYS SO MUCH.

Not to say there won’t be Santi smut down the road, we’re in early January. There will be Santi smut! 👏🏽

Just his voice, the guitar, his curls, the beard SIR 🫠

Now your bonus question: My titles are place holders so I know which fic is which when I look through my ever expanding Google docs. They sometimes are the final title, but like I just did with another fic, after editing and re-reading it, I changed the title.

My titles usually start out as vibes. For example “Keep me warm” I wanted the reader to be someone who not only keeps Dieter warm in bed, but may bring him a little joy given that he’s somewhere he doesn’t want to be. 😝

“Din’s in the Neighborhood” is a reminder to myself that it’s a modern AU where Grogu will likely be a human child and more of a slice of life deal. I’ll give Din a slight break since I had my man working in and out of his beskar recently. Din wears hoodies and glasses. 🤓

As a final example, “Pleasure Principle” was influenced by me listening to Janet Jackson, I had re-watched ‘The Equalizer 2’ because my mom wanted to watch one and two before seeing three last year. I had thots about Dave York, I work in healthcare and I wanted to dabble in BDSM a bit more after lightly exploring it with Marcus Pike. Plus as the fic goes on, both Dave and Kiara are having what they believe to be their principles tested. I did try and tie it into something to be all extra 😭

I hope I answered both questions my dear! 💝

Let me know if you have more!

Love Nerdie ❤️❤️❤️

[quill-of-thoth]

Letters from Watson, Catching Up

The Musgrave Ritual Publication: May 1893, the edition directly after The Gloria Scott.  Setting: October 1879 [Baring-Gould] and for once I have no disagreements.  Other than to note that Baring Gould appears to think that Holmes was at college (prep school for us americans) at age twenty and finished university at age twenty six. This is once again not impossible, but unnecessarily complicated. It’s also possible that this story could have taken place in fall of 1880, or immediately before Holmes and Watson met.  Still a student?  There’s not necessarily a contradiction between Holmes being potentially an occasional student in Study in Scarlet and his assertion here that he’s getting cases via “old” classmates and studying independently. He could have attempted to finalize his studies and start a career more than once. Even today with a more standardized course of study for a career in the sciences, people take a semester off, go back to college, have periods where they’re taking one credit while working, etc.  There *is* the description of Musgrave being an upperclassman while Holmes was an undergraduate, in the same “college.” If, as Baring-Gould seems to think, this “college” is where Holmes was at twenty during Gloria Scott, which he puts in 1874, Musgrave went to a bit more trouble to reconnect with a man he barely knew five years ago to solve an old family puzzle than I think. If we follow my timeline, we have to note that schooling was much less systematized in the late victorian period, and note that even today, “college” is used to refer both to english preparatory schools and “college of (subject)” or a department within a university. The two institutions could also be related to each other. I can’t give you a historian’s exactitude about whether a Victorian would have referred to both preparatory school and university as “being in college” because I studied Environmental Science. It’s all a little wobbly, but I promise you my timeline works. Holmes also claims that he hasn’t seen Musgrave in four years, which is probably what expands Baring-Gould’s timeline of the pre-watson years to such a large stretch (in addition to Baring Gould’s theories that exist entirely outside of the canon) and this is where we’re going to have to lean more heavily on the theory of editing and fictionalization than we have for the previous story: Watson is not just working with decade old notes jotted down by Holmes at this point, he’s relaying the whole story as a conversation between him and Holmes. It is very unlikely that this conversation actually happened verbatim. Slight inaccuracies are possible, and all Holmsian scholarship deals with those according to its own deductions. There’s also the fact that unlike Holmes and Watson, or Victor Trevor who departed for Northern India, Musgrave is a lord. A little bit more care might have been taken to fudge the details, even if the story isn’t at all unflattering to him or his family.  Also keep in mind: I’m adding my observations on the timelines as supplementary information during my re-read. Baring-Gould appears to have taken an approach of taking each individual piece and moving them around until they fit referenced years and lengths of time precisely, with room for his extra-canonical theories regardless of what that did to Holmes’ biographical details. We have different priorities.  All of this to say: If Holmes solved The Gloria Scott at age 17ish in 1875 and had another year of prep school left before going to university, met Musgrave during his first year (1876), and later relayed to Watson that Musgrave approached him with a case in fall of 1879 or 1880, its very reasonable for him to estimate that he hadn’t spoken to Musgrave in three to four years. I also forget at times, at age 30, exactly what year something from my high school or college experience happened: Watson is likely extracting the details about an 1879ish case from Holmes in 1892 or early 1893, depending on how far ahead he wrote his stories for The Strand Magazine.

[steverogers-against-disney]

this is a moon knight post BUT

quick context here before i explain the rest of this headcanon, basically i have an ongoing and ever expanding alternate captain america universe (that i just call redux!verse) where… a lot of stuff happens but one thing that happens is that bucky barnes’s little sister rebecca (mildly) edits and compiles some of his war letters into a book to act as a sort of memoir in his own words type thing (i’ll probably end up putting details from redux! in this, which i’ll mark with an asterisk)

ok now that that’s out of the way, as i said, this is a moon knight post

i think, for a very long time, steven grant had no clue who captain america was. he got lots of jokes, of course, from apparent captain america fans about his name. it usually went like this:

steven: hi~ i’m steven grant. that’s, uh, steven with a v :)

them: ha! steven grant! like captain america!

steven: erm, haha, yeah

eventually, though, his curiosity gets to be too much, and steven finds himself checking out a biography on captain america from the library (which, in the moon knight show, he really has in his apartment). it’s a pretty good biography, if you’re into urban legends and conjecture. it describes a morally upright man, willing to do the right thing above all else. the author seems to be very interested in how good and moral and tenacious this other steven grant is, rather than who he is.

the author notes that steve rogers went to art school, but not what he studied specifically. he notes that steve rogers became a school teacher*, but not what he taught or if his students liked him.

steven found himself more interested in what the author never said. who did steve rogers love?

(more under the break)

steven gets quite hung up on all this, the missing pieces. it feels real to him. there’s so much missing, and his heart aches for the idea of this man. he finds himself re reading this biography, trying to read between the lines, trying to piece together what he’s missing from what he knows.

after he renews his copy the third time, he decides he ought to just buy it.

there’s a very nice person at the bookshop, who suggests several other books to him. they also tell him there’s a whole collection of comic books about captain america. he decides to get a bunch of it. he ends up with the entire original series of comics, a different biography than the one he went for, the biography he went for, and a book called Yours, B, which, while not about steve rogers, apparently revealed more of him, according to the person at the shop.

the comics were rather disinteresting (except the few with a writing credit to one R. Barnes*), and the new biography as lacking in detail as the first one. but the third book is actually a collection of letters sent by one bucky barnes. according to the forward, barnes’s sister was the one who got the whole thing together, though she admits to “slight edits” to preserve some semblance of anonymity for the people he wrote to.

it’s pretty clear to steven when bucky barnes is writing to steve rogers.

he ends up talking to his mom about it a lot, or, well talking at his mom. she’s such a busy lady, and they’re always playing an extended game of phone tag. it goes something like this:

“hi, mum~! sorry i missed you again, but it’s hard with the time zones, haha. hey, i got your card from egypt! i’m really jealous, you had better send me a load of photos. anyway, i’m feeding gus right now, he says hi, don’t you, gus?

“hey, do you know who captain america is? i figure i would have known about him sooner if we were american. but, yeah, he’s a real myth of a guy. though it’s a bit sad reading about him. everyone seems caught up in all that mythology, they’ve forgotten he was just a guy. they always seem to skip over days, and months, and years he probably thought we important. i would like to know what he painted… if he even painted at all.

“oh! but i found one book- i guess it’s more a… i don’t know, collection. it’s letters this captain america fellow’s friend wrote. well, i think —now, don’t get shocked, mum— i think they might have been more than friends. not all the letters are to him, but i think that makes it a bit sadder. it’s like he’s just talking to himself. you don’t ever get to see what anyone says back, or… or if they replied at all. they must have, right?

“…well… anyway, it was good catching up, mum. love you loads. okay, laters gators~”

steven knows, of course, that someone is listening to his messages. he assumes it’s his mother, though he can’t recall the last time he heard her reply. but someone must be listening…

right?