#i wanted to include graphics but i couldn't find any of the ones i wanted rip

[bi-writes]

there's trouble in paradise. but lucky for you, your other half would do anything for you. anything. (arranged-husband!simon x fem!reader)

previous part (recommended read, but not required)

cw: reader is described as plus-sized/curvier, dark!reader, dark!simon, unhealthy relationship dynamics (both of you are so fucked up inside), horror movie vibes, themes of obsession + possessiveness + psychopathic behavior, military criticism, mature language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence, mentions of simon's canon trauma, voyeurism, smut, piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving), breeding kink 18+ (this piece is very dark and includes the encouraged murder of someone innocent -> read at your own discretion)

if simon is anything, it is that he's...unpredictable. except for how he spends his mornings.

you close your eyes when you feel his warm hand on your jaw. your head tilts back, and you part your lips, knowing what will come. your hear the shuffle of fabric, and then you're kissed, a sloppy kind of kiss, a harsh tongue slipping into your mouth and tracing your teeth.

it's aggressive, his kiss. he doesn't try to savor the taste, he just takes. his teeth hit yours sometimes, but he doesn't apologize. just cradles your head in a different direction and continues to shove his greedy tongue down your throat.

you chase him when he pulls away. he chuckles, the bastard, and when you open your eyes, he stands tall behind where you sit. you smile up at him, opening your mouth obediently, and you take two of his fingers and suck. the pads of his fingers press against your tongue, and you lap at the callouses. it feels good to be full of him, in any way he will give.

you like having some part of him inside of you, always. it makes you feel whole. complete. incredibly satisfied, a cup full of liquid, blood touching your tongue.

"good morning," simon murmurs, glaring down at you almost. if you didn't know him, you'd take his expression for ire, but you know it's just the intensity of whatever sits in his chest. "worried when y'weren't in bed."

you flutter your lashes, and simon palms at your throat, bending lower. you want to nibble on his scarred bottom lip, but he holds you at such a length to keep you away. you pout a little.

"don't do tha' again," he tells you. it is a warning. someone else might take this too literally, too harshly. as if he was commanding you, and he is, sort of, but they wouldn't understand. no one would understand. "y'hear?"

you nod.

"sorry," you whisper, letting his fingers go and kissing them softly. "couldn't sleep...didn't wanna wake you."

he sniffs. he doesn't like what he hears.

"and wot do i always say?" he asks. "hmm?"

you smile a little, looking away, bashful. "that...that i can have whatever i want."

"tha's right."

you giggle, standing from your seat, turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. he picks you up from the fat of your hips, hoisting you onto the kitchen table with ease. he knocks your knees apart, stepping between them, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him easily.

"tell me," he commands. "tell me wot's on y'r mind."

you sniffle, dragging your knuckles down his masked cheek. you nuzzle your nose into his, closing your eyes, and he leans into you, wanting more. he reads you well. there isn't a flicker in your eyes that he wouldn't catch. he's too perceptive, too observant, too in-tune with what you are, which is his. it relieves you, in a way. you don't have to lie because he will always catch your dishonesty.

"how come..." you bite your lip. "y-you told me i shouldn't call you. when you're away. s-so...so i send letters to base. but...you never respond."

he tilts his head to the side, cupping the back of your neck. when he finds your eyes, he keeps them, steadying you with a firm grip.

"wot letters?"

you pull back a little, blinking up at him.

"i...i send you a letter. e-every day that you're gone. i-i...i send it to you."

he shakes his head, "swee'eart, i've never gotten a letter."

you swallow, smoothing your hands down his chest. you frown a little, looking down.

"oh..." your heart eases a little. "i...i thought you were ignoring me."

"probably just some bloke tha' doesn't know m'name," simon soothes you. "would never ignore ya. and y'know the number to call in an emergency, but i suppose 'm glad tha' you've never had ta call."

you meet his eyes. dark. purposeful. focused.

"i can take care of myself."

the letters never arrive, even after you double check their address. you show it to him the next time he comes home, the back of the envelope with the address scribbled onto it, and all he does is shrug.

"tha's me, luv," he mutters, pushing the letter aside, hoisting you up against the wall as he kisses you hungrily. "now open up," he growls, shredding your panties with a tight fist as he fucks into you eagerly. "oll f'me, missed y'r cunt..."

simon is nothing if he isn't an insatiable animal. every time he comes home, he fucks you until your vision is nearly permanently blurred with tears and your brain is defiantly turned off. he fucks you dumb, in every sense, and you think he enjoys the way he swipes your drool with a big thumb and sucks it into his mouth with a groan. maybe it tastes different, when you're brainless from another orgasm and saying things that aren't coherent, hips canted up as he continues to pound into you from behind.

but you adore it. you love it. you love him.

it's visceral, what you feel inside. it tears at something delicate. whenever you look at him, you can't help the smile, even if it's small. the way he makes you feel when you look into his eyes--it nearly chokes you. neither of you ever last long. someone always breaks the moment, moving until you are near so that you can kiss feverishly.

you both scramble to be together. when he comes home, he always attacks you as soon as the front door smacks against the wall. you've fucked numerous times on the floor in the foyer, too eager to welcome him back when he goes for weeks on end to even make it to the couch. you love when he practically tackles you to the floor, throwing you down as he gets between your legs, big hand cradled into your hair so it doesn't smack against the hardwood floor. the gesture is so sweet that it makes your eyes tear, even if he's biting at your tits so hard they nearly draw blood.

simon would do anything for you. there is nothing that crosses a boundary, no request that he would not fulfill, no crime he wouldn't commit. he's disgusting, a right prick bastard that you know would enjoy skinning the backs of someone's hands just for your very own amusement. you wouldn't call him a dog--a proper dog respects authority, acts loyal and good and cowers when they have done something wrong.

simon doesn't always listen to you, not really, you don't think he really listens to anyone. but everything he does, he does knowing it is what's best for you. he takes care of you, especially when you're too cock-dumb to make any right-minded decision. he's the center of gravity, and you are his, bringing each other back into balance when you get knocked off kilter. sometimes, this balance requires a sacrifice.

simon is all too willing to give one.

you don't blame him for that. the wiring in his head, it's a little fried, a little frayed. it isn't his fault. he's seen torture. been through it. watched comrades die, tasted his own blood and that of someone else's. he's seen the insides of someone, watched it protrude from the holes in their bodies, sometimes from his own hand. he's just a little rough around the edges, just a little scarred.

no one likes to talk about the fact that servicemen like simon are glorified serial killers. you understand this fact, and you know that if you explained it to simon, he would probably agree with you. but instead of acknowledging the reality of it, you think he might smile. he is given permission by his country, by his king, to kill under the guise of international security, for the common good.

what would we not do to protect our homeland from terrorism and warfare? what necks would we not snap? what blood would we not shed? what would we not do to protect the places where our wives lay their heads and our children play their games?

that is how he would justify it to you. he'd tell you not to worry, that heaven is an idea made up by weak men who don't have the strength to do something about their foe.

you would believe him, if he said that to you. you would smile back at him, kiss him soft, and let him fuck a baby into you just to shut you up.

but this wouldn't change a thing. it wouldn't change what he is. it wouldn't make him any less a murderer, any less a man that takes what he wants. he has a heavy hand, not just in combat, but with you. he does not ask permission, but it wouldn't matter; fortunately, you have the same disgusting urge inside of you, and you practically beg him to take from you.

although, there is one thing that separates you from him. you might carry the disease--the one that makes you indifferent to his violence, his past, his trauma, his crimes. but you don't carry the execution of it. you've never killed anyone. you've never held a gun. sometimes, when someone parks a little too close to your car, you think about what it would be like to put their head behind your tire and reverse over it, but nothing you ever do leaves the horror of your mind.

you are positively boring in that sense. lieutenant simon riley's picture-perfect good girl, his lovely wife. the one that lets him voice his horrendous crimes and sleeps just as peacefully as before because of it. no one would ever know that he's murmured in great detail about how he tortured his latest target, telling you about how he screamed quite loudly when he picked his fingernails off but was rather quiet when he carved tally marks into his forearm.

"was he, baby?" you whisper, sucking soft on the stubble around his jaw. he palms your ass gently, satisfied when he feels the way his cum drips between your folds and wets his hand. he nods, shrugging.

"fuckin' muppet. deserved wot he got."

"i know he did," you agree, nodding, reaching down and starting to pump his length, still wet from your cunt. you mewl when he starts to harden immediately, the blood rushing to his cock as you fondle his balls. "now tell me how much you missed me again..."

it isn't your fault that he gets you this wet just by talking about his aggression. it can't be. it's primal...instinct. ghost is a protector, and you are his wife--you like thinking about what he might do just to keep you safe.

you like thinking about what he might do just to keep you happy.

but you're not happy. he's gone for three weeks this time, a long stretch that leaves you a little lonely and a little on edge. you send him your letters, writing every day about how quiet it is at home, about how alone you feel and how much you miss the space he takes up in your bed. you even miss the amount of food he consumes--you're so used to cooking enough to feed four proper people just for him to scarf it all down and eat your cunt to tell you how grateful he is.

you haven't really been on base since you married; you spent a few weeks there right afterwards, in and out of his bed, practically attached to simon by the hip. it's been a long while since then. he bought you a little flat in london and gave you a nice sleek credit card, and that was that. simon doesn't care for you to spend much time on base. he thinks you too pretty and complains under his breath that you're a distraction, which you are. you're always so caught up with how hot he looks working that you end up underneath him more often than not; simon prefers you at home so he doesn't lose all his fucking energy trying to keep up with you.

you roll down your window, flashing your license at the officer there. he clicks a flashlight on, looking at it, and he swallows hard when he sees the last time there.

riley.

"afternoon, ma'am," he tells you with a nervous smile. "your husband, looks like he isn't here, he's--"

"i know where he is," you interrupt. "but he'll be back soon. just some housekeeping i need to do." you tilt your head to the side. "i don't have to call the lieutenant and tell him you're refusing me, do i?"

"n-no, ma'am."

you slam the door shut after you park, eyeing the motorcycle a few parking spots away. you sigh, clenching your jaw, before swinging your purse over your shoulder and straightening out the front of your jeans. you told him not to ride that fucking thing, the big dummy.

you pass through the offices first, and when you get nearer to where captain price and your husband sit, you stop in your tracks when you see a new little desk set up there.

there's a woman sitting there.

she's got a corded phone held between her ear and her shoulder, and she's writing on a sticky note rapidly, nodding her head as she talks to someone quietly. you tilt your head to the side, watching her, and your lip twitches just enough when she hangs up the phone and stands to put a few files away in a cabinet.

she's wearing a tiny little skirt and stockings, and you run your tongue over your teeth when you get a glimpse at the garter belt she's wearing underneath. you follow the line of her long legs to her kitten heels, and then back up to the blouse and blazer she wears. she turns around, adjusting her sleeves, and you straighten your back when you can see the lace of her black bra underneath the white blouse.

cause who the fuck wears a black bra under white at work?

you adjust your purse over your shoulder and make your way down the hallway, ignoring her as you stop in front of simon's office and look for the key on your key ring.

"oh! excuse me--excuse me!"

you stop looking for the key, turning over your shoulder. the woman is getting up from her seat, hurrying over. she's a tiny little thing, bouncing over to you with an exacerbated face.

"hey--excuse me," she puts a hand on the door. "you can't go in there."

you raise a brow.

"oh, really? why's that?" you ask. she looks you up and down a little, her smile fading a little.

"well...lieutenant riley doesn't like it when people are in his private space. and there's classified material in there, so i'll need to verify if you have the right security clearance."

she twirls a soft curl around one of her fingers, and you flash her an irritated smile.

"oh, well, i'm sure he won't mind if i go inside," you tell her, turning back. you finally find the right key, fitting it into the lock.

"hey--hey! you can't go in there! i'm serious, i'll call security," she huffs. you laugh, turning to face her as you push the door open.

"oh, go ahead," you murmur, stepping closer. you're about the same height, but her eyes are no match for your own. she's alive inside, and you are not. there are places that you can go that she would never come back from, and she flinches a little when she meets your eyes intensely. "in fact, i dare you to call security."

you drop your purse on simon's desk, rounding it and taking a seat in his chair. you open one of the drawers, rummaging through it, and you roll your eyes a little when you find a pack of cigarettes that simon had said he'd thrown out. strike two already.

lying bastard.

you're still rifling through the drawer when the office door bursts open. you recognize one of simon's sergeants, kyle, huffing his chest as he looks around the room with a glare. the woman is behind him, her arms crossed over her chest and making her breasts comically pushed up towards her chin, her eyes narrowed at you. when kyle sees you, he immediately snatches his cap off his head and takes a step back. his posture changes, his back straightening up as he assumes a near soldier-stance.

"fuck, sorry, ma'am," he murmurs. "i didn't mean to barge in that way, i--"

"it's alright, kyle," you say softly, smiling a little. "something i can help you with? simon isn't here right now."

the woman steps back, confusion on her face, and she hides doorway now, out of your sight.

"no," kyle gives you a polite, nervous smile. "apologies again."

you shake your head and shrug, standing up to go close the door. you poke your head out, and she's sitting at her desk again, her expression a little wobbly as she looks up at kyle and uses her hands as she speaks, looking utterly mortified.

"--how was i supposed to know that? she didn't introduce herself--"

"look, you just better hope she doesn't tell him about this. fuckin' kiss her arse or somethin', for fuck's sake," kyle mutters, shaking his head, and you smile to yourself as you close the door completely.

it's a few hours later, while you're smoothing a hand over a report simon has written, when the door opens. you look up from the desk, smiling immediately.

there he is.

simon cocks his head to the side, and you eye the flex of his fists in his gloves. he clicks his tongue, pushing his hood off, and you giggle when he narrows his eyes at you. he's being playful, and you stand, rounding the desk as you hurry towards him.

"well wot's this 'ere?" he chuckles, and you squeal when you jump up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing kisses to his masked mouth, over and over again. he catches you easily.

"simon--" you thumb at his cheeks, letting out a shaky breath, and you laugh when he fists both sides of your ass, squeezing your arse in the nice denim jeans you're wearing. he hums lowly, nosing at your jaw.

"wot are y'doin' 'ere?" he murmurs, reaching up to cradle the back of your head gently with one hand. you kiss him again, feeling how warm his breath is through the mask. you close your eyes, sniffling a little.

"missed you," you whisper, massaging the nape of his neck and pressing your face into the chest of his tact vest. simon rubs at your scalp gently, soothing you.

"y'know i don't like when y'r 'ere," he mutters, and you squeeze him tighter.

"i know," you sigh. "i know...i know, i just...i-i..." you pull back to look up at him. "i-i know, i just...i--"

"'s olright," he quiets you. "not mad." he presses his mouth to your forehead, kissing it gently, and you close your eyes again. "fancy a cuppa while i debrief, swee'eart?"

"...better hope she doesn't tell him about this..."

you lean up on your toes to get closer to him, fitting your thumbs under his mask and pushing it up so you can get a good kiss. he smirks before your lips meet his, and you sigh with relief when he slips his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you'd tell him off for it, but instead you keen when he squeezes the back of your neck, and you open your mouth wider for him. he takes full advantage, sliding his tongue over yours before sucking on it briefly. his hand palms at the plush space between your thighs, but he knows better than to touch you right away since he's still at work. if he goes any further, he'll have some explaining to do about his punctuality.

"i love you," you whisper when he pulls away. he kisses you again, just beside your mouth, and then he grins wide.

"sit, luvvie," he mutters, nodding to his desk. "won't be long."

it doesn't bother you that he never says it back. he does love you, in his own way. he never says it, but you know it's true.

you know it.

he takes your hand, guiding you over to his desk, not letting go of you until you're sitting. he winks, catching a few fingers under your chin before making his way out. you sigh, watching him from behind, your eyes raking over his broad shoulders to his waist, the thickness of his thighs and his incredible ass. you're no better than a man in that sense, but it's your husband, and you'll ogle him all you like.

it's your privilege. and your right.

but then you catch someone else's gaze, looking at the same thing. it's her--and she's got her eyes on your man.

you suck in a breath, sinking into simon's chair, and you meet her eyes once simon is gone. you smile at her, knowingly, and she swallows hard visibly, clutching the papers she's holding to her chest and making her way to the door.

"i am...so sorry about earlier," she says timidly. "i-i...had no idea that...i didn't know--"

"it's fine," you say, your voice monotone and unyielding. "glad to know this country's secrets are kept...under great care." you stand, and she comes in, holding out her hand.

"i'll get that cuppa for you, mrs. riley, no need," she laughs nervously.

"oh, so you were eavesdropping?" you ask, and she sputters.

"oh...god, n-no, i--"

"i'm just kidding," you smile again, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "tea would be nice."

she scurries off after that, and you follow her to the door, laughing to yourself as she hurries off towards the break room. you notice the cart she was sitting next to. it's stopped at her desk, and you peek over, seeing that it's the mail. she's got the envelopes on her desk, and it looks as if she was just organizing it all to hand out.

but there's a drawer open at her desk, and your eyes narrow when you see your handwriting on the envelope stashed there.

you round the desk, grabbing the stack that you see, and you let out a shaky breath when you realize these are your letters. the ones that you write to simon, all of them, bound neatly with a rubber band. your lip trembles a little, and you hold them to your chest, blinking back angry tears as you slowly make your way back to simon's office. you shut the door, dropping the stack of letters onto simon's desk, and you think.

she's very pretty. not taller than you, but she's more...conventionally attractive. she doesn't have your plush hips, your soft tummy, but that doesn't make her a villain--but you're just aware of what she looks like, what you look like.

you've never been too insecure, especially not since marrying simon. he never fails to chub up as soon as he sees you; he's hungry whenever he sets his eyes on you, and you know he likes grabbing the extra fat around your hips and holding you. he's so gross about it, but you love it. you love the way he loves you.

but is that what he imagined when he was married? did he imagine a woman with a little more? did he imagine a woman not like you, but a little smaller, a little tinier, easier to carry?

but he can carry you. on more than one occasion, he's thrown you over his shoulder, lifted you onto a surface he then fucked you on, flipped you and manhandled you into various positions he wanted to try. he loves having you on top, loves picking you up from your hips and fucking up into you. he never strains, just grunts from the pleasure and smacks your ass. he's never given you any reason to believe you aren't the most beautiful woman, his prettiest girl, so why are you thinking this way?

no. it isn't you. it's her. it's all her fault; there is nothing wrong with you. a man like simon needs a woman like you--someone not so fragile, someone that has more.

she is without. and you are not.

the insecurity wanes. it turns into something else. not jealousy. it's anger. something hungry.

you fucking hate her.

simon comes in a few minutes later, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a manila folder in the other. he shuts the door with his boot, setting down the mug and folder before leaning over and giving your cheek a little kiss through the mask.

the way he greets you, the light touch he has on you, reminds you of what you are to him. no one else in the entire world is privy to this kind of affection. to simon's affection. it's yours, and yours alone, and if you just open your mouth and tell him what you want, you know that he will give it to you.

she is without. and you are not.

"was thinkin'--" simon stops short when he looks at your face, frowning. the recognition of something amiss is almost instant. "wot's wrong?"

you look up, meeting his eyes, and you think again.

you could say nothing. you could wipe your tears, tell him that you're just lonely and needy, and make him bend you over his desk to get the thoughts out of you. you aren't the violent kind. you're not confrontational. you have already established that you aren't the kind to lash out, to show your teeth. you have the nasty tick, but you aren't the kind to let it fester.

you blink, and simon snarls. you waited too long, and now he knows there is something else on your mind.

"oi," he snaps. "'m tolkin' t'ya."

"s-simon," you whisper, and he reaches over to grip you by the throat. he doesn't choke you, but he holds you firm, dragging you closer to him. "s-simon--"

but it's too late for her, because you're angry. the sickness has already spread.

you stand, forced to walk around the desk, coming closer. he's not happy; there's something bothering his wife, and that isn't allowed. his wife is not supposed to be upset or sad, she isn't supposed to cry unless it's tears of joy, unless her eyes are stinging and wet from how nice his cock feels. a lieutenant's wife is pampered, spoiled, nothing but pleasure and soft sheets and full tummies. it's unacceptable. it's awful, it's terrible, it's not right, and he needs to fix it.

"wot is it?"

"...better hope she doesn't tell him about this..."

"the letters--" you sniffle, leaning up on your toes, pressing your face against his. "the letters i sent you, t-the ones...you said you never got--"

"i know, luvvie," he murmurs. fuck, he can be kind when he wants to be, when it's for you. "i know, 'm sorry, 'm gonna sort it out for ya--"

"i-i found them," you interrupt, looking away. he follows your gaze to where they sit on his desk. he reaches over and picks up the neat stack, and he flips through them with a huff. he's confused, noting the dates you've written on them. it isn't even all the letter's you've sent, just a stack of the most recent ones.

"i don't--"

"they were in...they were in her desk," you hiccup. "she...she's keeping them from you, she wasn't--" you rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes, and he cradles the back of your head with a big hand. "she doesn't like me."

it's quiet for a long while. simon strokes the back of your neck, easing you into his chest. his touch is light, unbothered, but he's eerily silent as the moments pass. the rise and fall of his heavy breaths lull you, calm you, but then he wraps his fingers into your hair, gripping the strands tight. you swallow a bit from the force of his hand. the gravity of what he might feel, what it might mean, the switch you've flipped.

the thing you've unleashed.

it is the first time that you realize what simon can be for you. it is the first time that you think that it's very possible for you to use simon, to whisper soft in his ear and lick the flames of his need to bite back, his need to strike.

even if what you say is a lie, he'll believe you. maybe he'll even know it is a lie, and he'll convince himself it isn't one just to make things right again. love is blinding, and it is also forgiving. he can deal with the lie later, but not with your dissatisfaction.

"doesn't matter about how she feels about ya, y'r m'wife," he murmurs in your ear. his tone has lowered, something that makes you think this might be how he speaks to his men, the privates he can't stand and the ones that have trouble following orders. "fuckin' disrespectful--" he hisses, tipping your head back with a tug on your hair. he looks into your eyes, wild, cunning, angry. "'m gonna take care of this, swee'eart. y'hear me?"

oh, yeah. that's what you want to hear, that's what you need to hear. you flutter your lashes, mouthing at his jaw.

"i don't...i don't mean to make a fuss, simon, i--" but i do, i want it--

"oi," simon picks you up from under your thighs, dropping you onto his desk. he steps between your knees, pushing his mask up, and you mewl when he licks the tears off your face, kissing you with an open mouth. "y'listen to me..." he sucks on your bottom lip, bringing his mouth back to yours. "won't accept anyone treatin' m'wife this way. disrespectin' you is disrespectin' me. won't 'ave tha'. so look me 'n the eyes 'n tell me ya understand."

you sniffle, nodding, smoothing your hands down his forearms. he narrows his eyes, and you try not to look away from him. it isn't up for discussion. even if you ask him not to make a fuss, he won't roll over on this. there is a certain decorum simon expects anyone that reports to him to have, and if they don't grant it, he doesn't take to it lightly--not from his men, and not from pretty secretaries that didn't do their homework.

"i-i understand," you whisper, and you sputter a little when you stop yourself from saying anymore. he knocks your chin back up, keeping your eyes, and you continue with a wobble in your voice. "she...she tried to kick me out earlier, too." he tilts his head to the side, and you know not to keep a secret anymore. "when i...when i was opening your office, she...s-she didn't recognize me and...she tried to get kyle to make me leave."

he laughs a little, but there's nothing funny about it.

"'n wot did he do?"

"he said he was sorry."

"good. now lie back, swee'eart. 'm hungry, 'n my wife deserves to get her cunt eaten for being such a good girl."

you smile a little, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and he grins back at you. you giggle as he unbuttons your jeans, pulling down the zipper, and you laugh a little more when he picks you up and yanks them off your legs. he puts a hand on your chest and pushes you to lie flat, tossing your legs over his shoulders and sighing.

"missed y'r lil' pussy so much," he murmurs. "m'favorite place ta be."

just like that, the anger is gone. dissolved, sugar in warm water.

you giggle, rubbing a hand over the head of his mask. you arch your back as he mouths over the fabric of your panties, hooking a finger over it and pulling it aside to slurp at your wet folds. you let out a shaky breath, tugging on his mask a little.

"i missed you, too, simon," you whisper. "i-it's too quiet without you."

"i know, baby," he suckles at your clit, coaxing a moan out of you, and he chuckles. "mmm...want ya to cum in my mouth, luv."

you whimper, "i will, simon. anything for you."

"fuckin' hell," he hisses, "don't say shit like tha', makes me fuckin' hard."

"whatever you want, baby," you whisper, and he pushes his tongue into your little hole as punishment, making you squeal and giggle with delight. he smirks from between your thighs, dragging you just that much closer before he starts to bob his head and fuck you with his tongue. you grind against his mouth, locking your ankles behind his back and staring at the ceiling as you ride his face for your pleasure. he's so good, he's so hot, everything you want and more. he loves you, so much, and he will do anything for you.

anything.

"are you going t-to teach her a lesson?" you babble, panting, and simon hums.

"yeah, swee'eart."

"how?"

"hmm..." he smiles wide as he kisses your clit. "how do ya want me to?"

"want her gone, simon," you gasp, forcing his mouth back into your pussy, slick coating his chin. he follows your direction, smoothing his hands up your stomach, thumbing at your perky tits.

"mmm..." he's so pussy-drunk, his tongue flattening between your folds and teasing you warmly. you're so wet, slick coating your folds, and he''s starting get messy, his face glistening as he concentrates on the only task that matters. "woteva y'want, luv."

"r-really?"

"i asked ya to cum in my fuckin' mouth, and y'r about to," simon snaps. "when i say it's done, it's done. when my wife asks for somethin', she gets it, do you fuckin' understand me?"

"yes! yes--" you hiccup. you're so stupid. so dumb to think that simon would refuse a request that you make. pretty, dumb girl to think that whatever you say isn't his gospel.

you want her gone. you do. and you want simon to do it for you. you want him to stuff his fingers into your cunt with one hand and hold her at the wrong end of his gun with the other--

there's something wrong with you, right? right?

"why are y'still thinkin'?" simon growls, leaning up and over you until he can kiss you nasty. his face is soaked, and you moan when he slides his tongue over yours, practically spitting in your mouth as he slips two fingers into you with ease. "my wife isn't supposed ta think."

you let out a shaky breath, nodding, cupping his cheeks and kissing him back.

"yes--o-okay, 'm sorry--"

"stop thinkin'. nothin' ta think about when y'r mine."

and he's right. you always use your brain too much, you always end up thinking when you should just be listening, responding, letting him move your body this way and that way.

simon is always right. always.

you kiss him again, soft and shaky breaths. you reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his wrist, sighing as you guide his fingers until he's pressing on that little spot that makes your toes curl.

"ahhh...right there, yeah?" he smirks, and you nod, your fingers touching his lips.

"not enough," you whisper, and he tsks, shaking his head.

"never is," he mutters. "my mouth or my cock, baby?"

you giggle, and he kisses you, swallowing your laughter. you breathe into the kiss as you reach down and start to undo the button of his cargos and unzip him, palming at his bulge and squeezing it lovingly.

"not even a question," you purr between kisses, and he chuckles, deep and heavy, shoving down his pants just enough to pull himself out. you arch your back just at the sight, knowing how big he'll feel and how much he'll stretch you out. it's such a familiar feeling that you adore chasing, and you love the way your brain muddles whenever he sinks deep. your toes curl just thinking about how deep he'll get today with how wet you are. not that you aren't wet always when simon is around, but there's just something so sexy about your husband wearing all his gear and promising to rid the earth of vermin just for your contentment.

"'s alright, mama, i know 'ow much ya like bein' full o' me..." simon smooths a finger over your clit, licking his lips when he sees you clench around nothing. he slaps his tip there, watching you squirm, and he growls a little when you spread your fingers in a V and show off to him how wet you are.

"stop teasing and make me a real mama," you giggle, and simon tilts his head to the side, leaning over you.

"is tha' a challenge, m'dear wife?"

you meet his eyes, lovely and lingering, and you shake your head.

"no," you whisper, because fucking isn't a challenge, not for him. "a-a request."

he smiles, so wide, and you reach down and grip his forearms tight when he slips into you. you're dripping, a soft squelch sounding as his hips meet your thighs, and you cup his face as he settles his weight over you.

"y-you've never looked at her...have you?" you ask into his ear.

"at who, baby?"

"her," you whine. "you know w-who i'm talking about, don't play stupid, simon--"

"shh--" he clamps a hand over your mouth, hissing a little. he shakes his head, annoyed, and he shifts inside of you until he's hitting your cervix and making you cry into his palm. "'m a right bastard, baby, but tha', i'd never do." he chuckles. "got a tight arse, tha' one, but she's not you. she's not my girl."

tears prick your eyes. you're not sure if it's from the hint of jealousy that sears through your chest or the way you clench around him, but it's all too much suddenly.

he leans forward, sliding his hand off, gripping you by the throat now as he kisses you wet and hazy.

"'s y'r face i think about when 'm gone," he murmurs. "y'r cunt tha' gets me fuckin' hard. y'r fat tits that make me drool, swee'eart, ain't no one else 'n the world tha' makes me feel the way y'do, yeah?"

you hold onto him, digging your nails into his back, and he forces your eyes on his as he smiles again.

"ask the boys," simon hums. "ask 'em wot it sounds like when 'm wankin' off at night, ask 'em whose name 'm sayin'--"

"you think about me?" you whimper, and he laughs, cruel, biting his lip as he drags his cock out and then punches it back in, enjoying the way you cry, the look of your slick seeping out onto the desk and wetting his reports.

"got a nasty lil' photo 'f ya," simon smirks. "keep it right here--" he pats the spot over his heart, and your mouth opens when he squeezes your throat just a little tighter. "can finish in fuckin' seconds, baby."

"y-yeah?"

"boys like t'borrow it sometimes," he murmurs, slipping a hand down and pressing down on your lower stomach before giving you a nice roll of his lips. you squeal a little, his palm meeting the tip of his cock, and he chuckles. "ya just look so pretty, luv. johnny fancies y'r cunt, the good lad, but i think price is a fan of that fat arse--"

"s-simon--"

"gaz is such a sap--" he grits his teeth, gripping your hips with both hands, starting to give it to you a little faster, a little harder. the desk rattles a little under the force of him. "says your mouth is divine, but fuck, who can look at anythin' else when y'r cunt is out, aye?"

"t-they like me?"

simon grins, eyes bright and a little crazy. "course they do, luvvie," he runs his tongue over his teeth, tilting his head to the side as he looks down at you. "y'r a bloody sight for sore eyes. 'f ya think these boys want her, y'r mistaken--" you bite your bottom lip. you should be disgusted. you should be upset that your husband touches himself to your picture and lets his men peek over his shoulder, but you're not. you smile, eyes sparkling, and you widen your thighs to try and take him deeper. "--want you, swee'eart. want wot's mine, but they'll never 'ave it. never 'ave wot belongs ta me. can look, but they can't fuckin' touch, cos it's mine."

you moan, dragging your nails down his forearms, and he curses under his breath as he picks up the pace again. he's starving--it's been weeks without you, weeks fucking his fist to the same picture of you that barely does you any justice. he drools at night, practically choking on his spit as he thinks about you in every position, how easily he can bend you and fold you, how wet you get whenever he talks into your ear about the blood, the murder, the terrible things that stain his hands.

he knows what it does to you, when he confides in you. the truth of it all, the truth of what he really is, it makes you weak. it rattles you down to your bones, it makes your eyes roll back into your head, makes your legs squeeze together and your pretty pussy flutter. he thinks maybe you like knowing that simon is dangerous, but he'd never put a hand on you. or maybe you like just knowing that he can--that he's capable of terrible, awful things, and he chooses to come home to you.

every single time.

it's a vice. you're the vice, more than cigarettes, more than the thrill of getting onto his bike, more than the adrenaline he chases when he's outnumbered twenty to one with nothing but his throwing knives.

there's a thread between you. there's a line that connects him to you, something that has always been there, pulled taut as soon as he put that ring on your finger and gave you his name. it's the thing that always makes it hard to breathe when you're around him. it's what makes it impossible to look into his eyes and not see yourself looking right back at you. it's the terrible realization that your husband is black and blue on the inside--

and so am i.

this kind of love is different. it's not fleeting, it's not gentle. it's canine teeth tearing into skin. it's claws in something soft, ripping it apart. it's the joy in doing what isn't right, the benefit of yourself in favor of the benefit of all.

simon would burn the world for you. even if it meant you were all that was left--even if it meant that everyone in it burned, too.

the world should be grateful that simon is only taking one fucking secretary instead of them all.

when simon lifts your hips just that much, your head spins. he always fucks so good, but you're spiraling into a headspace that's making it hard to focus your eyes. you're arching your back to get closer to him, but you're at his mercy, his hands pressing on your thighs just that much to get you just a little more open, just that much more spread out, and you cry when he leans over you, the hair surrounding his cock rubbing against your clit just enough.

"ahhh--fuck, y'r so fuckin' tight, baby--" simon groans, shaking his head. "y'r gonna cum--can feel it, yeah--" he leans his head back. "y'know the rules, luvvie, know the fuckin' rules--"

you have to cum before him, he won't let you have it if you don't cum first--you're so close!

"let 'er hear ya," simon chuckles, all mean, all bite. "let 'er hear 'ow good y'r husband gives it t'ya, how well a riley takes it, let 'er hear--"

fuck, it hits you fast. you're seeing spots, floating for just long enough until you feel him fuck his cum back into you. he barely stops, quickening his pace to finish just to make it that much messier. you think he likes dirtying his desk, making it reek of sweat and musk and heat so he can bask in it later. or maybe he just wants to get back between your thighs, his favorite place in the world, the only quiet from the voices that taunt him in his head.

when he pulls out, he makes you eat it off his fingers. he pulls his gloves off, stuffs his fingers into you, and then puts them back between your lips. he hums as he stares down at you, lapping between his knuckles, and he leans down to murmur in your ear.

"gonna sort this out, luv. promise ya tha'."

he doesn't see acceptance in your eyes when he tells you this. he didn't expect to see that. there is no need to accept the things that you already know, what you already understand. simon doesn't speak in metaphors. he's not interested in riddles, and he doesn't like reading between the lines.

he sees the thrill. he sees your excitement, the joy, the warm rush of approval that washes over you, and he smiles when you lean in to kiss him, all soft, all tender, whispers of affection that make his cock hard all over again.

you want to pity the girl waiting outside. she would've lived longer if she had just shut her fucking mouth.

[ticifics]

I have an idea! Reader and dave have to share a bed. They have no problem with it but they didn't know that they couldn't keep their hands to themselves (not in a sexual way) but they could wake up in the middle of the night finding the other one cuddled up to them haha ​​something sweet and tender

Sleeping Spooning

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: Dave was so close it seemed impossible to believe you had started the night with all that space between you. His face was buried in your neck, his dark curls falling on your skin in a soft, almost lazy way. His arms were around you, one of them wrapped possessively around your waist, while your legs were intertwined in a way that seemed as though they were made for this.

Warnings: none

A/N: hi love, hope you can like it <333

You’ve known Dave for as long as you can remember. It’s hard to find a memory that doesn’t include him. Whether it was when you both were kids, sitting on the doorstep of his house, waiting for the ice cream truck to pass so you could find comfort on hot days, or when you got a telescope and spent nights searching for stars in the sky. Dave was always, always there.

But things started to change. Suddenly, the boy who was always slightly shorter than you started growing, to the point that you now had to look up to see him. And when you nudged him to get his attention, you could feel muscles under those nerdy graphic tees.

And, oh, his hands. It was concerning that you paid attention to that, but you couldn’t help it.

Not that you’d ever talked about feelings or anything like that. That definitely hadn’t happened, but you couldn’t stop imagining what would happen if it did. Your heart stumbled imagining Dave, your best friend, returning your feelings. But you wouldn’t dare reveal any of this.

Today, you’d asked Dave to stay over at your house, and although that might sound like the plot of a low-budget porno movie, there was absolutely nothing indecent about your request. Your parents had traveled, and you didn’t want to be home alone. Plus, it would be the perfect opportunity for you both to watch The Amazing Spider-Man (again)—you’d made sure to buy the DVD as soon as it hit stores.

When Dave arrived, you had everything ready: a cozy blanket on the couch, a dizzying amount of popcorn, and sugar-loaded candy. It didn’t take long for you two to sprawl out on the couch, the TV being the only source of light in the room.

“Andrew was born to be Spidey,” you sighed.

Dave, on the other side of the couch, furrowed his brow. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” you answered without thinking. “I mean, I like Tobey, and it’s fun to see Bully Maguire in action, but Andrew is amazing,” you laughed at your silly pun. “And he’s cute,” the words left your mouth before you realized it.

“Cute, huh?” Dave asked, his tone playful, though there was something behind his words. “So you like brunettes?”

Your eyes quickly went to his hair. The dark curls falling gently across his forehead, and you wanted to run your fingers through them, feel if they were as soft as they looked. You closed your hands on your lap, smiling awkwardly before answering, “Maybe.”

The dim light didn’t allow you to see, but you knew his face had reddened. And you swore you saw the corner of his mouth curl into one of those crooked smiles you loved.

You both kept watching the movie, sporadic comments followed by muffled laughs so as not to interrupt the scene. It was easy to talk to Dave. It always had been. He made even the simplest moments feel special, and that night was no exception. The slight, almost imperceptible tension between you two seemed to be part of the natural chemistry that had always existed.

When the movie ended, the credits rolling on the screen in an endless cascade of names, you stretched, feeling your muscles complain after being in the same position for so long. “I think it’s late... we can go to my room,” you suggested, the words coming as naturally as any other request you’d ever made to him.

Dave hesitated for a second, something that didn’t go unnoticed. He looked away, adjusting his glasses that were slipping down his nose.

“Dave?” you called, your voice tinged with slight concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he answered quickly, but the way he messed with his hair gave away his nervousness.

“Dave,” you repeated, your tone now firmer, but with a touch of tenderness. “We’ve slept together before, remember? There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“I know,” he replied, letting out an awkward laugh as he put his hands in his pants pockets. “But, I don’t know... it’s different now.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Different? What did he mean by that? But you didn’t have the courage to ask. Instead, you simply nodded, trying not to get lost in the avalanche of thoughts that flooded your mind.

In your room, you turned on a lamp, casting a soft glow around the room. Dave stopped in the doorway for a moment, looking around as if it were the first time he’d been there—which, of course, wasn’t true. He looked a little lost, so you pointed to the bed with a calm smile.

“It’s just a bed, Dave,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I know,” he replied, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck showed that he wasn’t as relaxed as he was trying to appear.

As he moved closer, you adjusted the pillow on the left side of the bed, an automatic gesture that he observed with a small smile. You both lay down side by side, each occupying your own comfortable space. There was more than enough space between you, but... for just a moment, just for a moment, you wished it were a single bed. Just so he’d be closer.

The thought hit you like a shock, and you felt your cheeks burn. What was wrong with you? It was just Dave. Your Dave.

You turned to the other side, trying to push the thought away, but it was hard when you knew he was right there, so close, yet so far.

“Are you comfortable?” his voice broke the silence, soft and a little hoarse from the tiredness.

"Yeah," you replied quickly, turning to look at him. He was lying on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but you could see he was biting his lip, a nervous gesture he’d been doing since childhood.

"You?" you asked back.

He finally turned his head to you, his eyes meeting yours. In the soft light, the blue of his eyes seemed even deeper, like a sea you wanted to explore. "I am," he answered, but there was something more in the way he said it. Something that made your heart beat faster.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stayed there, staring at each other. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it carried a different energy, a sweet tension that made everything feel more intense.

You knew you should say something, break the mood before it went too far. But at the same time, part of you didn’t want that moment to end. So, you just smiled, a small smile, but full of meanings you hoped he would understand.

And Dave... He returned the smile. That crooked, charming smile that made your heart stumble, and you realized, once again, that he was your best friend. And, maybe, just maybe, he was something more.

The night was quiet, with only the soft wind tapping against the window. The sky was starting to show the first signs that the dawn was nearing its end, the dark blue tinged with an almost imperceptible gray. You slowly opened your eyes, feeling the comfort of the mattress, the blanket, and... something else.

That’s when you noticed.

Dave was so close it seemed impossible to believe you had started the night with all that space between you. His face was buried in your neck, his dark curls falling on your skin in a soft, almost lazy way. His arms were around you, one of them wrapped possessively around your waist, while your legs were intertwined in a way that seemed as though they were made for this.

Your heart immediately raced, but not out of fear or discomfort. It was something deeper, something that made your breath hitch and your face warm. With every exhale from Dave, his breath brushed against your skin, sending shivers up your spine that were almost impossible to ignore.

You tried to tell yourself not to move, not to do anything that could wake him, but that thought faded when your eyes landed on his hair, the dark strands tousled and falling over his forehead. Without even realizing it, your hand started to move, hesitant, until your fingers finally touched the curls. They were as soft as you imagined.

And that’s when you lost it. Your fingers gently curled into his hair, a delicate, almost reverent touch. You felt a small, involuntary smile form on your lips, your heart still beating out of rhythm as you absorbed every detail of that moment.

Dave murmured something incoherent, a muffled sound that seemed like a satisfied sigh. Before you could pull away, his arm around your waist tightened, pulling you closer. You held your breath, but didn’t have time to think because he let out a sound that was almost... a purr?

Your face became hot enough to melt any ice. He wasn’t fully awake—yet. He seemed caught between the dream world and reality, his expression calm and relaxed as he pressed his face closer to your neck, as if seeking even more contact.

“Dave,” you murmured softly, more to test your own voice than to call him.

That was enough. He moved again, his eyes blinking slowly as his consciousness finally started to arrive. His body gave a small jolt before freezing completely. You could feel when he realized.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and low, as if still half in the dream world. He started to pull away, but his arms seemed reluctant to let you go completely.

“Wait,” you said quickly, your hand still in his hair.

His eyes met yours for the first time. Even in the dim light, you could see the confusion and insecurity mixed with something softer, something more vulnerable.

“It’s okay,” you added, your voice so gentle it even surprised you. “You... can stay.”

Dave seemed to process your words for a moment, his mouth opening as if he wanted to protest, but giving up almost immediately. He relaxed, still embarrassed, but giving in to your touch, as if he didn’t have the strength to fight it—and maybe he didn’t want to.

“Sorry,” he murmured after a while, his face still close to yours.

“Why?” you asked, your fingers now gently stroking his hair almost unconsciously.

“For, I don’t know, invading your space,” he replied, his tone hesitant.

You chuckled softly, the sound gentle in the silence of the room. “Dave, you didn’t invade anything. It was nice...” The last word came out almost as a whisper, but you knew he heard it. His face turned redder than you thought possible, but still, he smiled. A small smile, but so genuine that it made something inside you warm even more.

The room remained submerged in quiet, only interrupted by the soft sound of your breathing and the occasional rustling of the blankets when either of you made a hesitant movement. Dave was still so close that you could feel the heat radiating from him, and the proximity felt both suffocating and comforting at the same time.

His eyes dropped for a moment, and you followed his gaze, realizing that he was paying attention to your breathing—or more specifically, to how your chest rose and fell against him. That’s when you noticed.

He was so close to your chest that it was impossible for him not to hear your heart hammering against your ribs.

“I can hear it,” he said quietly, his voice filled with surprise, but also with a gentleness that only he seemed capable of reaching.

"Listen to what?" you asked, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, his eyes rising again to meet yours. "Your heart."

The confession made something inside of you crumble and rebuild at the same time. The warmth that spread to your face was instant, but you tried to hide it, offering a small, nervous smile.

"That's kind of unfair, you know?" you murmured, your fingers still playing with his curls, even though a part of you was screaming to stop. "What can I do if I have a thing for brunettes?"

His jaw dropped slightly, and you saw his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red—something you didn't think was possible.

"You... talking about me?" The question came out hesitant, his vulnerability so evident that it made your chest tighten.

"No, about Andrew Garfield," you joked, trying to ease the tension, but your expression soon softened. "Of course, I'm talking about you, Dave."

He blinked a few times, as if he needed a second to process that, then let out a low, almost incredulous laugh. His forehead gently rested against your shoulder, and you felt him take a deep breath, as if trying to calm his own heart.

"You're going to kill me," he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled but full of sweetness.

The smile that formed on your lips was automatic, and your hand slid from his curls to his face, your fingers gently caressing his warm cheek. He lifted his face slightly, his blue eyes meeting yours in a look that felt like a shared secret.

Neither of you seemed to want to move away. On the contrary, your bodies remained so close that you could feel every detail, from the texture of his T-shirt to the rhythm of his breathing, which seemed as out of sync as yours.

"Dave," you whispered, not really knowing what you wanted to say but feeling that you needed to say something.

"Mm?" His voice was low and husky, and he tilted his head slightly to the side as if he wanted to hear better.

"Are you going to stay?"

The question slipped out before you could stop it, and for a moment, you almost wished you could take the words back. But the way he looked at you—like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face—made the anxiety turn into something softer, more confident.

"I'm already here, aren't I?" He smiled crookedly, that smile of his, so typically him. "And, as far as I'm concerned... I'm not going anywhere."

The way he said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, made your heart stumble again.

Without thinking, you let your forehead rest against his, your eyes closing for a brief moment. "Good," you murmured, the warmth of his face blending with yours. "Because I like having you here."

Dave stayed still for a moment, as if absorbing what you'd just said. You could feel his breathing slow a little, as if he were trying to control the storm inside him. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low whisper, full of emotion.

"I like being here... with you."

His words were simple but carried a weight that made your heart race even faster. He moved his forehead just enough to look directly into your eyes, their blue so soft and full of tenderness that it made your legs feel like jelly—even while lying down.

You didn’t respond right away, feeling like words weren’t necessary. Instead, your fingers slid gently from his face back to his curls, the light touch that made him sigh involuntarily. Dave closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked.

"You know your heart is racing again, right?" he commented, his voice soft but with that slightly playful tone you knew so well.

"And whose fault is that, huh?" you shot back, raising an eyebrow while trying to look serious, but the laugh that escaped his lips completely disarmed you.

"Me?" He pointed to himself, the smile widening as he pretended to be innocent. "I'm just a guy trying to sleep."

"A guy who makes me nervous," you corrected, feeling the warmth rise again to your face.

Dave tilted his head to the side as if pondering your words. Then, with the utmost casualness, he leaned in just enough to brush his nose lightly against yours, a touch so delicate it almost felt like a dream.

"Maybe because you make me nervous too," he confessed softly, the smile now smaller but even more sincere.

The confession made your breath falter, and before you could think too much, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. There was no room for hesitation in that moment; everything felt as natural as breathing.

"Good," you whispered, your heart racing once more. "Because I don’t want you to go anywhere."

He smiled, and the way his eyes shone in that moment was something you knew you would never forget.

"I don’t want to go either."

And as you both stayed there, tangled up in each other, the world seemed to disappear completely. Just the two of you, sharing a moment so simple, yet so full of meaning, that anything beyond that seemed unnecessary.

The last thought that crossed your mind before you closed your eyes again was that, for the first time, you felt everything was exactly as it should be—with Dave by your side.

[iwoulddieforher]

Puppydog | Alex Cabot ×/ Casey Novak

I read something about the misunderstanding trope being really good for calex, so.. here it is! 9k words of Casey being unable to understand anything at all. Also, she's high out of her mind on cocaine, which is another thing I pulled from on here. @jeongonion for inspiration

Summary: Alex is sent by Elliot to investigate Casey's late-night activities, because Elliot's worried about her after she's been suspended. Alex finds her, but getting Casey to understand that all she wants to do is help is another battle on its own.

Warnings: rated M, includes graphic descriptions of drug usage, overconsumption of substances, a strip club, and attempts at sex

can also be found here, alternatively, on ao3

There was no way in hell she’s actually going to do it, Alex thought to herself, standing awkwardly and very incorrectly dressed in a corner of possibly the most shady place she had ever been in. 

Bathed in exclusively the glow of gleaming, dangerously alluring neon lights, Alexandra Cabot stood frozen, her heart pounding nauseatingly in her chest, as her gaze fixated on the woman she had been attempting to seek out. At the white powder being prepared.

The air hung heavy with cigarette and vape smoke, sickly warm and disgusting to breathe in. Alex thought she would gag from the smell of sweat and polluted sex. She wanted out, she hated being here, but now that she had set eyes on Casey there was no way she’d be leaving without her.

Laughing, scantily clad strippers gently tugged wide-eyed men with foam dotting the corners of their mouths by the wrists into private rooms, and some bumped into her in their haste, though none bothered to even glance in her direction, which she was very appreciative of. She didn't want any distraction, she didn't want anything to happen that would make her glance away from the redhead for even a fraction of a second. 

She wanted to move closer but she was still struggling to attribute the established, decorated assistant district attorney who had helped her regain her sense of safety, and therefore her life, with this- this woman before her, who hadn't yet noticed Alex’s eyes locked on her lithe figure. 

Casey was dressed in a clipped black dress that exposed not only the entirety of her back, but also the sides of her torso, the silhouette of her breast visible from Alex’s angled perspective. The dress ended at a length Alex would generously affirm to herself was mid-thigh, and it rose up as Casey shifted, revealing even more of the pale expanse of delicious skin that was her long, lean legs, adorned with calf-high heeled black boots. Cabot felt guilty even for looking at Casey, when she was so vulnerably dressed, so exposed, even though- to her immense relief- she was still more covered than the majority of other women in the room.

Alex swallowed nervously, wanting to move closer, but worried to keep watching, worried to see. Because- there was no way Casey was actually going to do that, right?

But Casey was laughing at something her companion said, and she was settled between the thighs of a woman whose genitalia was hidden only by a thong and bralette that employed enough reflective, shiny patterns to make a disco ball flustered. Alex felt sick.

The woman, who looked beautiful in a tainted, wrong way, cupped Casey’s pale face in her hands as broken laughter continued to bubble from her throat, cooing small praises into the former attorney’s ear, sliding one hand from her defined jawline to tug on the halter formation the kept Casey’s dress together gently. Alex couldn't hear the words that slipped from the curved, cheshire-cat grin on the stripper’s face, but she was sure it wasn't something she would ever want to hear. It seemed to feed Casey, though, who almost purred, writhing closer into the faux affection with obvious enthusiasm.

Alex’s blue eyes fixated on the object of her fear, and when the situation only progressed, she knew it would happen before she could rush forward- but she couldn't force her petrified muscles to move, and she didn't know exactly what she thought she could do, anyway. If she attempted to wrangle Casey, the chances were the only outcome was Alex being kicked from the club while Casey and her vulnerable wallet stayed inside, pried open. 

A thin vertical line of white had been drawn in powdered substance on the bare thigh of this other woman, and as Alex watched, shocked beyond measure, Casey lowered her head, and took the line straight off of the exotic dancer’s thigh. 

Alex’s heart dropped into her stomach.

Casey pulled her head up and stood forward on her knees, into the waiting arms of the stripper, whose face split into a large encouraging grin. Casey’s intoxicated face seemed to indicate a level of contentment, her eyelids half shut as she nestled her face against the stripper's sternum. The woman’s nails trailed lightly against her face, and Casey’s eyes shut and Alex could almost hear the soft whine the ministrations elicited. With a start, Alex was snapped out of her voyeurism- the woman’s face had raised to shoot Alex a questioning look.

Bile rose in Alex’s throat and she knew she was getting weird glances shot at her from others as well for standing there numbly, dressed in jeans and a turtleneck, the expression on her face- one of pity- emphasized by the neon reds tracing the walls. 

Oh god, Casey, Alex thought to herself despairingly, Oh no.

Hours earlier, she had been perched on Olivia’s desk in the bullpen, chattering animatedly about the latest news- idle chatter, but chatter was always entertaining with Liv. It had been a while since she had been able to exchange witty banter with her favorite detective ever since her return from the WITSEC, but within twenty minutes she and Olivia had already come up with multiple plans to get together sometime soon, to catch up, to rebuild the friendship. 

That was until Stabler had announced his presence with an awkward clearing of his throat, rubbing his nose and placing his hands on his sides. Olivia looked up with a smile, which quickly turned into mild interest at the look of concern on Elliot’s brow. 

“A quick word, Alex?” He requested, motioning with a tilt of his head. Alex and Olivia exchanged a brief glance, before Alex stood up and smoothed out her blouse.

“About the case?” Olivia piqued, but what she really wanted to question was why Stabler wasn't forthcoming about the matter of his inquiry in front of her- Stabler just shook his head quickly with an apologetic look which Liv seemed to accept. 

“So, what do you need me to fix this time?” Alex murmured teasingly as she allowed Elliot to guide her to a space in the corner, a few feet away from anyone else inside the bustling precinct. Stabler’s discomfort seemed to grow, slightly. 

“You remember Casey? Casey Novak?” He asked slowly, and a small part of Alex’s heart stirred.

Yes, she did remember Casey. The fiery redhead who had helped her convict- well, she had helped Casey convict, actually- the man who had almost stolen her life.

She remembered the curve of her lips and the slope of her neck, the hair curled out at the ends, the gentle honey-covered rasp of her voice as she talked Alex through the process Alex had been through tens of times. She remembered the way she so gracefully accepted her accusation and apology, her understanding. She remembered the soft sound of her chuckle, the way Casey’s hand had felt on the small of her back as Casey showed her out that night. The way the tension had felt so palpable, but doomed by circumstance. 

Casey had been the epitome of what she had needed in that moment, an attorney she could place trust in, foster the embers of hope. She had been so worried that the SVU’s replacement would be someone cold, or perhaps someone lax, someone who was bending over to the will of politics, someone entirely different than her. But Casey was professional, ambitious and determined, all beautiful qualities for an esteemed attorney, while still holding the personal attributes Alex sought out in a lawyer- the immense sense of justice, the soft and warmth where it was needed. Casey had seemed almost maternal with Antonio, and lined herself up with Alex wonderfully well, able to fit the glove of what they both needed. Casey had been just that- wonderful.

She remembered green eyes that had seemed to see straight into her heart, and pink lips that had looked so alluring in the dim lighting. The want she had felt, despite everything. They hadn't, of course. But she hadn't forgotten that.

“Yes, I remember her.” Was what she said in a voice a bit more curt than she intended, but she was wary to provide the extent of her thoughts, “Why?” 

“So,” Elliot rubbed his face again, a nervous tick. “She got suspended, right? You know about that?” 

Alex nodded slowly, with no idea where this was going. She did know Casey had been suspended, of course, she had asked about the attorney when her life had been reinstated, seeking to extend her gratitude and hint at the possible friendship she wanted to foster, but had gotten that unsatisfactory answer. Violating the Brady Rules trying to protect an officer. If it had been Olivia, Alex thought perhaps she would've gone down the same way. 

“Yes, I do. Elliot, where is this going?” 

Elliot then extended his hands, holding her softly on both of her slim biceps, and Alex registered the break in his face, the desperation bleeding through.

“Olivia- she’s like, your detective, right? You two are close, you trust each other with things, you're like a duo.” Alex nodded again, although she did raise an eyebrow, since Olivia and her’s relationship did occasionally toe a line she wasn't sure Elliot was entirely aware of. 

“Casey, well, she was mine.” 

Alex’s eyebrows raised further, arching over one blue eye, and Elliot sighed, elaborating, although it was obvious he was going to keep explaining either way.

“We’re both Catholics, and we go to the same church- we used to- and she babysat my kids for Kathy and I a couple times. I have a big family, she does also, similar backgrounds, you know? And I- I guess, I was like her brother, and she was a sister to me. We bickered and we fought but at the end of the day, I… you know. Sibling bond. She looked out for me, I… I tried my best to look out for her.” 

Elliot’s eyes were so softened, Alex relaxed, some of his concern beginning to seep into her own mind now too. She reached up to hold one of his arms, tilting her head and trying to help soothe him, because if he was displaying this degree of emotion she knew him well enough to know there was a lot more going on under the surface in his stoic body.

“Elliot, what's wrong? Did something happen?” She offered softly, and Elliot let her go, turning in a small circle- another nervous movement, an action that spoke to his heightened state of emotion, before turning back and sighing deeply.

“She got assaulted, this one night- not recently,” He added quickly at Alex’s startled expression, “in the DA’s office. By luck, Olivia had been there that night, so someone found her before- but, anyway, after that, I added her to my… Life360.” 

“You have Life360?” Alex offered, trying to add a note of lightheartedness neither really appreciated.

“I have five kids, Alex, and all troublemakers. Of course I have Life360. Anyway, I just had it so I could check to make sure she got home safe at some point, you know, so I could check if I was ever worried about her. I think she forgot I have it, though.” 

“Okay, so- ?” The blonde attorney shifted her weight slightly, concern and simultaneous confusion mounting. What could be wrong that Elliot would seek out her help, of all people? Not Olivia? 

“Listen,” he started, “She’s- I’ve been realizing that lately she’s been out at night, increasingly, and I’ve- I know that,” he stumbled over his words, rubbing his face again, before sighing deeply.

“Casey and Olivia didn't have the most straightforward relationship, and I don't know how she’d react if I came to find her, but- but I don't like where she’s been going, and I think- I just need you to go and make sure she’s okay, alright?” 

“You want me to go look for her?” Alex asked, a bit in disbelief, because- why? The note in her voice seemed to ring clearly, and Elliot sighed deeply again, growing even further uncomfortable. 

“It’s a… a strip club. I keep checking her location and from- from ten to sometimes four, five in the morning she’s- she’s there.” 

“She’s a stripper?” Alex said, now completely in disbelief, because there's no clue she- what? “She went from prosecutor to exotic dancer?” 

“No!” Elliot barked, denying the thought firmly, “No, I don't- it's a homosexual-friendly one, I think she’s just- Jesus, Alex, I can't send Olivia because I know she’d try to tough love Casey out of it but I just need someone to go make sure she’s okay, and I know I’ll get too emotional, and just- please, okay? I don't know any other women who I’d trust to go. Please?” 

Alex felt a bit shellshocked, and a bit lightheaded. She was reeling to grasp the reality of the situation, she didn't think anyone who had been as designated as Casey to end up in a place like Elliot was describing, and she didn't know if that's something she could do. 

“So I’m- what am I doing, exactly?” She asked quietly, pulling on the joint of her finger. 

“Just go look for her,” Elliot asked, his voice cracking just barely as he begged, dropping his guard for a fraction of a second to show her the depth of which his care extended. “Just tell me if she’s okay, or if… Alex, I really don't know. I don't want to slap her with any charges to try to convince her to turn things around because it'll jeopardize her standing, but I just- can you?” 

“Okay,” Alex inhaled deeply, “Yeah, okay. Text me the address the next time you see she’s somewhere she probably shouldn't be- although I do need to remind you visiting a strip club isn't illegal on its own- and I’ll… go review her wellbeing.” 

Because Elliot was right, of course, Olivia would definitely be harsh in her attempt to reinstate Casey’s self-respect, and perhaps that wasn't the best approach, because no one really knew what state the fallen lawyer had been in. But her? Why should she be the one to do this? But perhaps Elliot simply had no one else to turn too about this, and maybe she could… yes, maybe she could. 

It hadn't been more than twenty four hours, only about ten exactly, just as she had been beginning to wind down for the night, when her phone went off.

Elliot Stabler → Alex

Elliot Stabler → [address.attachment] 

Alex didn't respond, choosing instead to immediately search the address, grimacing at what she found. Elliot was right, it was beyond shady looking. 

The images provided by the internet did not soothe her fears to any extent, rather only exacerbated them, harsh neon signs adorning the walls around deep-set couches that seemed to sink even before a figure placed themselves onto one. The place only had a few reviews, but was rated only two stars despite that, with a comment complaining about the obvious drug usage. One of the images provided was of a woman in a thong so small Alex wasn't sure it was trying to hide anything and a bralette with star-shapes covering the nipples as essentially nothing else, and it made her queasy on view. After momentarily cursing herself for letting Stabler’s obvious anxiety involve herself with this, she closed her phone and took a deep breath.

Alex swallowed, pulled herself off of the mattress, and got dressed. She didn't know what she should wear for a brief undercover mission, but the last thing she wanted was to be mistaken for someone who genuinely wanted to be there, so she swapped a nightdress out for a simple pair of jeans, sneakers and the turtleneck she had worn on the stand- perhaps, she thought to herself, that would allow Casey to recognize her, in case she didn't. Just because Casey had been fluttering around in Alex’s mind didn't mean the vice versa was true.

Before leaving her penthouse, she threw a water bottle and a handful of protein bars, because she had absolutely no clue what the appropriate materials to bring on this type of journey was, but she felt like she needed to bring something. She hesitated in the doorway before ensuring she had a wad of cash in her wallet. 

The drive to the strip club was a long, quiet one. Alex was uncomfortable to turn on the radio and listen to anything, not when she was doing something like this. The only sound was the tap-tap-tapping of her fingers against the steering wheel when she got caught in the occasional red light, but thankfully the usual late-night traffic didn't waste too much of her time. 

Alex began to feel increasingly anxious the closer she got to her destination. The imagery she had held, of statuesque Casey Novak pacing on the courtroom with her on the stand, each step ringing clearly in her mind, grounding her slightly with the echo, was too dear to her heart to reveal a Casey unlike that figure of protector.

But Elliot had asked her to do this, and perhaps it was time to return the favor. Casey seemed to need a protector, if Elliot was that anxious. Tarnishing her mental image was a payment worth doing if it helped her in the longitudinal case.

The bouncer didn’t bother with ID, although he made a minor comment about her choice of wear which left Alex feeling unsettled- although that feeling of slight discomfort was quietly swept into an overwhelming urge to get out as soon as possible the moment she was actually inside. 

It was dark, save for the neon lights, and dingy. The air felt palpable with cigarette smoke and a combination of cheap cologne, cheaper perfume, sweat and sex. Walking through the place felt like wading in a swamp of the worst type of lust. Alex tried her best to avert her eyes from the women adorning the stage and the poles around the establishment, the mostly naked dancers serving beer-bellied men drinks and very obviously faking enthusiasm. 

If Casey had chosen this place out of desperation to find someone no one she would know would ever be there, she had picked well. It was harsh, but Alex thought this might be the worst, most degrading environment she had been in. 

It occurred to her, then, that she had no clue how to go about searching for Casey. The place was crowded in an confusing way, intertangled limbs on couches and women constantly flitting around, and she hadn't seen Casey in ages. 

She pulled out her phone and decided to text Elliot, because her best chance was probably to work this like a detective would- simply asking the bartender, and dragging her out. 

Although she had come here simply for a wellness check, there was no way she’d leave even if she affirmed Casey was perfectly fine. No one who was perfectly fine would be here, in a place like this.

← Send me a recent picture of her? I’m here 

Elliot Stabler → [CAM_248594382.jpeg]

Alex’s heart sank slightly in her chest, feeling her fingers balling automatically in her chest, because Jesus Christ Casey was beautiful, and she hated that the first time she saw her in the years since the trial was going to be in a place like this. 

In the picture Elliot had sent, Casey was smirking, an overexaggerated haughty tilt to her lips that could only come off as teasing. She was at a bar, but sported what Alex assumed was her court clothes- this must've been taken while celebrating a win of her’s. The image was just slightly not in focus, and it seemed like John Munch’s hand was raising behind Casey’s head in an attempt to make a pair of bunny ears he hadn't managed to create in time to be caught in the quick, candid photo. 

The top of Olivia’s head was visible on the side of the frame, brunette locks against Casey’s shoulder, and Alex felt even worse. She didn't know the extent of depth contained in Casey and Olivia’s relationship, but she hoped Olivia would forgive her for not telling her about Elliot’s request.

Alex attempted to wander over to the bartender, but was intercepted by a bottle blonde woman dressed in a tight-fitting dress that failed to conceal the tip of her areolas and only barely hid the space between her thighs. A heavy layer of makeup failed to conceal the exhaustion written in the darkness under her eyes, and over lined lips failed to hide the fact she wasn't particularly eye-catching. Not like Casey was, anyway.

Alex didn't know where that thought came from.

“Hey there, lady,” The woman purred, hands raising to wrap around Alex’s arm, pushing her breast against the same bicep Elliot had held hours earlier, “Why so dressed up? You look so stiff, yo-u need some help letting loose?” 

The woman spoke in a heavy Brooklyn accent, stretching the vowels of her words and fluttering her lashes in a way that must've been an attempt at seduction- an attempt that fell utterly flat faced with Alex's increasingly obvious discomfort.

After a brief failed attempt at an inhale that left as an awkward cough, Alex shook her head, averting her gaze. “No, thank you, I’m alright.” 

“C’mon, da-rling,” she drawled, tapping her fingers against Alex’s arm as the attorney attempted to pull away, “Aren’t you hawt? I bet there's a sexy body beneath that sweau-ter. You need a little more privacy to take it awf? For yo-u, I’ll even lower my rates.” 

“No, really. I’m only here to look for someone.” Alex muttered, shaking her head adamantly and successfully pulling her arm free. It felt impolite to try to brush off the sensation of a body pressed up against it with her other hand, but her fingers itched to do so. She tried to disguise it by smoothing the fabric out, but the attempt was clearly poorly concealed, because the entertainer looked offended.

“Well, what's yo-ur type?” She said impatiently, “You need someone to take it haard? Someone you-nger? Ou-lder? You want a big strou-ng man, Mau-ma?” 

“No, no.” Alex shook her head, her brow furrowing with frustration. “Look, just- can you tell me if you've seen this woman?” 

Alex turned her phone back on, displaying the image of Casey, despite immediately feeling a surge of protectiveness, something inside of her wanting to gatekeep the shared image- the image she hadn't even been there for- as her own. She didn't like the way the stripper’s eyes examined it intently. 

“Auuh, Miss Puppydawg! I didn't even recognize her in a getup like that. The hell? What’s she dressed all fancy faur?” 

“Puppydog?” Alex echoed incredulously, beyond uncomfortable. There was no way in hell she'd be divulging any details of Novak’s person to this woman. She felt her spine straighten awkwardly as she swallowed back another wave of nausea. “She- she actually works here?” 

“Works here? Nau.” Alex tried not to let her relief be obvious,  “We call her puppydawg because she’s our favorite re-gular. She’s prou-bably around here somewhe-re, homegirl au-lways is. Why the interest?” 

“Favorite regular?” Alex echoed the dancer’s speech again instead of answering, turning slightly to scan the surrounding area. She couldn't see locks of auburn hair anywhere in the dimly lit room, but with a sinking feeling she realized if Casey had accepted an offer to go somewhere more private, the chance Alex could find her was little. 

“Yeah, she’s soh cute. Eager to please us, even though she's the o-ne who's paying. Just wants to be told she’s good, like a dawg, get it? Miss Puppydawg. Cause she’s cute like a pu-ppy, and acts like a dawg.” The stripper babbled, pulling a cigarette out of apparently thin air- Alex had no clue where she could've been holding a cartridge- and then a lighter from between her breasts to light it with. 

Alex barely contained the will to lash out. She hated the fact the woman was so casually referring to a woman who should've been Alex's esteemed colleague, one who had tried so hard and apparently fallen so far. It felt disgusting, and Alex’s skin crawled, but she bit her tongue.

After taking a long drag of the cigarette, the woman studied Alex and waited for some form of response while Alex continued surveying the room, and eventually, the stripper shrugged idly. 

“If you're looking for her, yo-u won't find her out here. She’ll be in VIP, prou-bably.” 

“How much?” Alex asked distractedly, wrinkling her nose at the stench of the cigarette and already beginning to walk forward a sign that hung above a doorway she assumed must lead to said section, and the exotic dancer fumbled in heels for a second to follow at her heels. 

“It's- Huh?” She tried to explain, but Alex pushed a small stack of hundreds in her hand before she could finish, and with a surprised gasp the woman decided she had bigger concerns than following around a woman so intent on her mission. Alex was allowed into the section exclusively for paying members, and she continued her search inside. 

The first thing she noticed was the very obvious drug usage- in here, people weren't even trying to hide it. A drug bust in a place like this would turn up thousands in supply, and possibly tens of thousands in fines. Elliot was right that attempting to discourage Casey from coming here using any legitimate legal method would likely fall flat, because being involved in a bust like this would be life-ending- assuming Casey wasn't already throwing away her life simply by choosing to be here. 

Vape-smoking strippers were using phone flashlights to illuminate the workspace of clients rolling joints in their lap, and others were encouraging intoxicated people to do lines of cocaine off the glass tables, sneaking crumbled wads of cash from delirious men’s pockets. The tables were cluttered with empty shot glasses and various vessels of liquid, whether it be short tumblers with half-finished dark liquid or mysteriously colored liquid in tall skinny glasses. As Alex watched, a stripper extended her tongue while making eye contact with a client to swirl around the rim of a martini glass, and Alex had to look away, her heart pounding in her chest with the queasiness the sight brought her. She needed to find Casey and get the fuck out before she threw up from the anxiety being here gave her.

There were hallways that seemed the lead to a labyrinth of private rooms. The doors were painted in a way that made it obvious they had been painted and then repainted again and again, perhaps from people slamming against them or scratching at the wood, and as Alex walked through the dingy corridors she could hear moaning through some of them. The doors that held open, waiting for a stripper to lead a guest inside, seemed beyond unsanitary.

But even outside the private rooms, in some corners of the hallways there were chairs in which clientele were led and exotic dancers played up the act, giving a show to any passersby, making the men and handful of women who were being entertained even more rowdy and impatient to claim space for themselves. 

One of those chairs, false affection on full display, was where Alex had inevitably found Casey Novak. 

She had immediately grown wary of the woman entertaining her, of the way when Alex found them she had been in the process of crushing up the crystals with what she assumed was Casey's credit card. The line was formed on her thigh, and as Alex watched, frozen in horror, Casey took it. 

Visiting a strip club wasn't a crime, but doing cocaine definitely was-  Alex already knew, though, that she wouldn't tell a soul about finding the disgraced attorney like this. 

A deep sense of pity overwhelmed her, suddenly, and she let her shoulders drop, because she understood exactly what the previous gogo dancer had been referring to. The way Casey’s legs twitched when the stripper brought her head to her chest in a tight hold, the way her eyes closed with a sickly pleased expression- Casey seemed undeniably like a lost puppy.

She just wanted someone to hold her, it seemed. Alex supposed she just wanted to not feel the surge of emotion that must be overwhelming her, the way Alex assumed she herself would feel if it truly had been her attempting to sacrifice her career for Olivia- and through substances and paying arms to embrace her, she was doing just that. 

Poor Casey. Alex would hold her. Not here, but Alex would. 

Alex forced her petrified muscles to move with a renewed sense of urgency, forcing her way towards the chair Casey was perched aside and ignoring the defensiveness that overtook the dancer’s previously curious posture. 

“Casey, sweetheart, it’s time to go.” Alex whispered fervently in the auburn woman’s ear, bending to place her hands on Casey’s shoulders and watching with resigned horror as the woman could only tilt her head up blearily, beyond intoxicated. 

“Hey,” the dancer bristled, cupping Casey’s skull and bringing the woman closer almost protectively, and Alex wanted to punch her for attempting to exploit the weakness of Alex's saviour like this. “Puppygirl, baby, do you know this bitch? You want to leave with her, honey?”

It didn't feel like a real question aimed at Casey, moreso a veiled declaration of opposition to Alex.

“I don't have time for you,” Alex snapped impatiently, straightening with a cold gleam in her blue eyes, and the sheer intensity of her gaze causing the other woman’s hold on Casey to loosen. “I’m taking her out.” 

“The fuck?” The woman snapped, only to be immediately dissuaded from the argument when Alex thrust a handful of bills into her face haphazardly, seizing the momentary confusion as the dancer attempted to collect and sort out the money to tug Casey into a loose standing position. 

“Take this and get the hell out of my way,” Alex growled in a low, biting tone, dropping her voice and directing it solely at the stripper so Casey wouldn't be able to hear the obvious aggression dripping from it, “and if you ever service this woman again, you’ll live to fucking regret it.”

Casey’s eyes seemed to follow the monetary transaction, and then fix on Alex’s face with a degree of bewildered interest. 

“...Alex?” Casey asked finally, and it was genuinely a question. Casey couldn't recognize her very well, given her brain's addled state, and with a soft sigh Alex nodded, wrapping one arm around the woman’s waist. 

“Yes, Casey, it's me. Come on, I’m taking you to mine, okay?”

Casey seemed to have no argument, not even sparing a glance at the woman who she had been paying to entertain her, allowing Alex to support her fumbled movements as Alex aided her on the way out. 

Deep, darkened green eyes were boring holes in the side of Alex’s face as Casey examined her with an unexplainable intensity, and with a small huff Alex realized with Casey’s heels the other woman was now noticeably taller than her, despite both of them being approximately the same above-average height. It didn't help her lead Casey out, rather with every stumble the other woman had to bend down slightly to find Alex’s support, which wouldn't be as much the case if Casey was currently shorter, or at least on par with Alex's height. 

Regardless, eventually the two did manage to make their way out- but not without a few women calling out in a forlorn or faux enthusiastic voice for ‘puppydog’ to turn and stay a while longer. Alex's jaw clenched and she focused on grinding her teeth together so she wouldn't deck one of them. She had no clue where her sudden protectiveness over Casey was really coming from. Despite craving the satisfaction of forcing some kind of repercussion for the nickname a sober version of Casey would've been enraged by, she knew she couldn't act on it.

Alex helped Casey crawl into the backseat of the car, feeling the absence of the auburn woman’s feverish skin on her side the second she let her go. After paying the meter for parking, Alex climbed into the driver’s seat, turning to ensure Casey had buckled, which she hadn't. Alex had to awkwardly reach across the entire car, kneeling on her seat and pushing her body through the gap between the two front seats, to help Casey force the buckle closed. 

“I brought water and some- some protein bars.” Alex said in a hushed tone, awkward and with little clue on what to say now that she had effectively extradited Casey from the unfavorable situation. Casey hadn't moved to express or say anything, not since questioning Alex’s identity while still within the confines on the stripper’s thighs. 

A woman whose sharp features and eyes that reminded Alex eerily of a hawk, who entertained a strange juxtaposition between almost intimidatingly gorgeous and refined features, and the way she had been grovelling for attention and affection, was now sitting quietly and unarguingly in the backseat of Alex’s car as the blonde began the drive back to her home. 

Although Alex remained aware that eyes were still studying her from an angle of the rear view mirror, nothing was said or exchanged, not other than Alex briefly urging Casey to drink or eat something during a pause at a red light. Casey held one hand briefly over her stomach, which seemed to signal ‘nauseous’- Alex wasn't at all surprised, she too felt sick to her stomach, and she hadn't consumed anything. After a pleading glance exchanged through the mirror, Casey begrudgingly took several small sips of water, which Alex chose to be content with. Forcing Casey to eat wouldn't be worth it if the end resulted only with Alex cleaning vomit from her car. 

“You're beautiful,” Casey said faintly from the backseat, and with a furrowed brow yet a bemused smile Alex glanced back at her. She was leaning contently against the back, head lolled to the side slightly, but she seemed conscious and aware enough to settle a bit of Cabot’s nerves. 

“I could say the same for you,” she responded easily, and Casey’s lips curved up in a small smile.

Alex wished briefly she had thought enough to bring a blanket, or something for Casey to conceal herself with, because it felt awkward for her to be dressed so modestly with Novak in such scandalous attire in her backseat. Casey didn't seem to register the disparity, which made Alex feel worse about it. 

The dialogue, if one could even call it that, stilled after that, although Casey’s obviously delirious smile did not drop for the rest of the car drive. 

When Alex opened the door, Casey was able to get out and stand unassisted, which Alex was relieved by. Casey stepped closer, eyes searching Alex’s face, and the blonde realized faintly Casey was waiting for her to guide her again, to lead her, to place her arm around her waist like she had when tugging her out of the club. Although it felt awkward, Alex obliged. 

The garage beneath the complex had an elevator that went straight into Alex’s penthouse with a special key, so thankfully they didn't have to make it very far. As soon as the elevator doors opened and Alex led the auburn woman out, into the safety of her apartment, she felt tension ease from her shoulders.

That feeling of relief was quickly overshadowed when Casey turned, gently pushing against Alex's body, until the blonde woman was pressed up against the wall with Casey’s currently-taller-due-to-heels frame above her. Blue eyes searched dark green ones with concern and confusion, but Casey seemed not to register the puzzlement. 

Both of Casey’s hands raised to effectively trap Alex’s head between them, and Casey leaned forward, pressing her forearms entirely against the wall as she bent, looking up at Alex with wide, puppydog eyes, and completely blown pupils.

“How do you want me?” Casey asked simply, her voice low and alluring, the sound of the rasp of her tone sending a sudden chill down Alex’s spine. 

“What?” 

Alex’s voice came out like a startled gasp, and she pushed herself against the wall, swallowing in an effort to cover the sudden jolt of discomfort. What did Casey think Alex wanted from her, exactly?

“You paid for something,” Casey murmured, leaning forward until her pink lips were an inch or so away from Alex’s own, auburn hair swaying in an undeniably tantalizing way as she tilted her head curiously. “You were trying to pay for me, weren't you?” 

“Casey, I-” Alex mumbled, feeling the rush of confusion and surprise turn into a harsh flush that covered her face, but Casey hushed her before she could explain the misunderstanding. 

“I’m not an escort,” Casey breathed softly, “but you won't be the first to mistake me for one. And I can play the role.” 

Alex opened her mouth to protest, wriggling just slightly to try to slip to the side so she could back away, but she remained trapped between Casey’s lithe figure and the wall. Her heart pounded uncomfortably quickly in her chest, and she could feel her face heating up against her will.

“Shh, words can wait until I’ve properly satiated you,” Casey rasped, moving her head to the side of Alex’s face, dropping her voice to a low murmur in her ear. Warm breath fanned across the small strip of skin on Alex’s neck just above the turtleneck feature of her shirt as Casey continued, “unless the words are, ‘on your knees’, or something else similarly appropriate.” 

“Casey,” Alex repeated, trying not to physically push the woman away, because she didn't want her behavior to come off as either genuinely interested which she currently wasn't, or harshly rejecting. She focused on not squirming as much as she felt as though she wanted too, mind whirling as she tried to properly deduce what to say to calm the quickly accelerating situation, but nothing came quickly enough.

“I’ll do anything,” Casey promised in a whisper, her voice taking on a slightly higher pitch that brought a pang of pity again to Alex’s heart, “you won't regret me, I promise. I’ll be worth your effort.” 

Her eyes were flicking back and forth over Alex’s face, intently studying, trying to figure out what Alex wanted from her. Casey seemed to realize Alex wasn't responding to her straightforward advancement, and seemed to think that that meant she had somehow done something wrong, played the situation incorrectly. Made Alex lose interest in her, somehow. Alex’s breath caught, and her brow furrowed, still wracking the confines of her mind and cursing them for freezing her, for not allowing her some eloquent phrase to comfort her. 

“I can be what you wanted,” Casey said, her voice taking on a shaky, pitiful note of desperation when all she was faced with was Alex’s lack of reaction, “I’ll be- I’ll be worth it. Let me prove I’m worth it?” 

Casey moved, one hand finding Alex’s, intertwining fingers briefly to bring Alex’s slim fingers to her own hip, while the other hand reached behind her to unfasten the halter formation that kept Casey’s dress together. 

With a rustle of fabric, black polyester fell apart.

That, finally, broke Alex out of the shock-induced freeze, and the blonde woman let out a small strangled sound, squeezing her eyes shut and forcing her head to the side before her eyes could catch sight of anything she’d hate herself for perceiving. 

“Casey, pause.” Alex spit the words out quickly, and despite Casey’s obvious inebriation the auburn-haired woman stilled her movements immediately, dropping Alex’s hand and letting it draw itself away. 

Alex kept her eyes tightly shut as she pulled her turtleneck off in a swift movement, holding it out expectantly and letting out a small approving breath when she felt the weight of it leave her palms. A second rustle of fabric, this time a more hushed, gentle sound of expensive fiber, was perceived, and Alex opened her eyes to see an anxious looking Casey staring at her somberly.

Casey’s eyes didn't stray from Alex’s face in the slightest, which soothed the small part of Alex’s brain that told her standing before the intoxicated woman in a bra wasn't the best idea, but it seemed Casey genuinely had no intent other than a desperation to please Alex, or to play along with what she assumed Alex’s desire was. The cold air of her penthouse caused goosebumps to prickle along Alex’s arms, but she cared more than Casey was finally dressed in something modest- it made her feel less guilty to look at her like this.

“I don't understand,” Casey offered softly, her voice quiet, her hair tousled from pulling the turtleneck over it. She fumbled with her hands now that she wasn't using them provocatively, tugging on the ends of the sleeves, “I- I thought you wanted-?” 

“No,” Alex said hoarsely, crossing her arms over her exposed stomach, “No, Casey, I’m not trying to have sex with you.” 

Casey’s eyebrows tilted, a small anxious crease appearing between them, as the corners of her eyes similarly crumbled with the rejection. “Do you not … - am I not…?” 

Satisfactory, Alex’s mind tried to fill in the word Casey wasn't saying, because it looked like if Casey said it she might burst into tears. Worth it, she might be trying to say. Alex wasn't entirely sure but whatever it was she wouldn't let Casey keep demeaning her value to either financial means or the utility of her body. 

“That's not what this is about, sweetheart.” Alex soothed gently, extending her hands slightly to reassure Casey she wasn't rejecting her entirely, she wasn't pushing her away, she wasn't disgusted. Casey inched forward almost shyly, and Alex took her in her arms without hesitation. 

The press of the turtleneck against Alex’s bare skin, this time the outside of it, was comforting to Alex. She hoped the feeling of the inside of it, the warmth that Alex had previously fostered, was comforting to Casey.

“I’m sorry,” Casey mumbled against Alex’s skin, burying her face in the exposed curve of Alex’s neck, and Alex hummed a rejection to the unnecessary apology. 

“I don't want you to apologize, honey,” Alex murmured, “It's okay, I could've been more clear earlier. Stabler sent me, he wanted me to make sure you were okay.” 

“Elliot?” Casey’s voice cracked, and suddenly she looked very small, and very weak, despite still being taller and less physically vulnerable than Alex was.

“Yes,” Alex hummed, letting her hands drift from Casey’s shoulders to rub what she hoped would be comforting circles on Casey's back. “He wanted to make sure you were okay,” she repeated softly, “Are you?” 

Casey didn't respond, but her shoulders started shaking and with a resigned sigh Alex realized she had begun crying. The intoxication and the overwhelm of emotions were simply too much for the battered woman to handle.

Droplets of warm liquid began to fall on the skin of Alex’s shoulder and she closed her eyes, humming a small note of sympathy, unsure what else she could do to comfort the redhead.

“I thought you wanted me,” Casey sobbed, body wracked with a sudden bout of shivers that left Alex gripping her tight, worried she’d fall without the support. “I thought, I thought-” 

“It's- I don't mean to say I- it's, it's not that I don't think you're attractive, Casey,” Alex tried to plead, “There’s nothing wrong with you, I- I don't know, but I do know it would be beyond wrong for me to let you do anything with me right now. You’re not in a position to consent like this.” 

Casey could only cry harder, tears of anguish, grief and shame wetting the space between her face and Alex’s skin as Alex tried to console her. 

Alex grimaced with sympathy, closing her eyes and letting the auburn woman nestle as closely as she could, desperate for some kind of support, some kind of reassurance. 

“I want it,” Casey begged, her tone so desperate Alex winced and had to force herself not to flinch away, “I need you, I want to be- I want, please, I thought you wanted me. I wanted you to want me. Just- can you?” 

It was almost impossible for Alex to attribute this behavior with the snarky, stoic yet fiercely protective, loyal woman who had saved her in court. Casey’s skin was fevered and tinted with an obvious lack of care, her nose red and her eyes puffy, her hair having lost some of its shine. Her vocalizations and composure had altered drastically, from sly and composed to rambled, desperate and scratchy, and her attitude had transformed completely. 

She seemed like a shell of her previous self, of the person who had so patiently comforted Alex’s pre-trial nerves. Of the woman who had led her out, who had looked into her eyes, and who Alex had almost kissed while standing at the doorway of the DA’s office- almost. Doomed by circumstance. She wouldn't kiss her own attorney. But she had wanted to. 

And Alex felt unbelievably guilty, because when Casey had been so close to her face seconds ago, with a look so sultry in her eyes, she had wanted to again. Of course she wouldn't have, she would never ever kiss someone under circumstances like these, but it was still making her feel desperate and horrible that she had even for a fraction of a second considered becoming one of the many people who had exploited Casey’s emotional, wrecked state.

“Casey,” Alex breathed quietly, and Casey hushed herself momentarily, holding her breath so she wouldn't keep sobbing so she could hear what the blonde was trying to say. 

“Casey, let me get you in bed, and let me help you get it all together, and next week if you’re sober and if you're feeling alright, then ... we can talk about it then, okay? Because I- I… not like this.” 

The other woman sniffed, straightening to rub the evidence of her crying fit away and leaving trails of mascara across her pale skin, but nodded quietly. 

“On the forehead, though?” She asked, though, in a low croaked voice, and with a mixture of pity and a small hint of amusement Alex smiled sadly and obliged, cradling her face gently with both hands and pressing her lips to the space Casey had requested.

Alex realized she might be the first person in days who had offered Casey any sort of attention she wasn't using her wallet or her body to pay for.

“You don't need to give people incentive to hold you.” Alex murmured quietly, grimacing at the though and then kissing her cheek too for good measure, “I would've, had I known.” 

The look in Casey’s eyes told Alex very clearly that Casey did not believe her, but she didn't attempt to verbally oppose, instead just staring at her blankly, hopelessly. 

They stood there, still and desperate, for a long moment. 

Alex swallowed anxiously at the sound of a low whine in Casey’s throat, and the auburn-haired woman’s hands found her waist, thumbs on the crest of her hips. Casey’s lips parted, eyes flickering from Alex’s eyes to her lips and back up, one last desperate attempt to seduce Alex. A last attempt to reassure herself that she was wanted, that she was worthy of affection. Alex’s heart broke in her chest. 

“Please,” Casey’s voice was so broken it came out like a whimper, “Alex?” 

“You know better, Casey.” Alex breathed, watching sadly as Casey’s eyes welled up with tears for a second time. 

It was surprising to Alex to find how gorgeous Casey was, even in such a visibly wrecked state. Her eyes were blown with substance abuse but a shade of green and rimmed with blue like collector’s prized sea glass, her bottom lip plumped and textured from her chewing on it yet obviously soft and alluring, her eyebrows shaped so elegantly. Her hands were warm and gentle on Alex’s exposed skin, slim long fingers shivering just barely, her arms thin yet simultaneously muscular, lean with the effort of athleticism. She was beautiful, and everything Alex wanted, but just- just not right now, not like this. 

Not even when Casey’s melodious, deep voice seemed so needy, so heady, in a way that stirred Alex’s abdomen in a way that disgusted herself.

Alex enveloped the woman’s body in her arms before Casey had the opportunity to pull away, holding her against her with deep-set sympathy, cupping the base of her head and pressing it against the side of her face so Casey wouldn't be able to see the look in her blue eyes. 

“Let me get you to bed, sweetheart.” Alex repeated quietly, “You must be exhausted.” 

Casey sounded utterly defeated when she muttered a quiet, “Yeah… okay.” 

Alex wondered if she had sounded the same the first time someone had offered her something, the first time someone had approached her in a bar. She didn't let that thought linger for long, though, because she’d either kill someone or throw up if she continued to think about it. 

Casey stood still as Alex crouched to undo the zipper on the side of her high heeled boots, stepping out of them delicately, and the two left them and the crumpled small heap of fabric which was Casey’s dress on the floor as Alex prioritized getting the other woman under a blanket. 

She stumbled as she walked, needing to readapt to balance without the heels she had grown accustomed to moving in, and Alex stayed by her side, hand on her back to support her as she guided her towards the bedroom. Casey sat down on the bed, looking up at Alex who was still standing over her with wet lashes and puppy-like eyes. 

Her pale legs, now exposed entirely without the boots, were so long, toned and exquisite. Alex felt ridiculously guilty for admiring the sight of Casey propped on her mattress. 

Alex ran her tongue along her dry lips, averting her eyes as if the doorway had something that held her interest more than the half-naked woman on her bed.

Biting back the nausea the guilt brought her, Alex rested a hand gently on the side of Casey’s face, a thumb brushing over her cheek, because the woman seemed so appreciative of physical affection. As if to affirm that notion, Casey leaned into the touch.

“Kiss my forehead again,” Casey requested, and again Alex obliged, bending forward to press her lips against the pale skin, her blonde hair brushing across Casey’s face when she moved. 

“Can I bring you something? Would you want anything?” Alex murmured, her tone hushed, “Nightclothes? Water? Something to eat, maybe?”

“I want you,” Casey said drowsily, reaching up with her arms to encircle Alex's waist, pressing her chin and neck against Alex’s exposed stomach as she looked up at her. 

“We already concluded that notion, Casey.” The blonde chided as gently as she could, running her thumbs along the side of Casey’s face, the pads of her fingers submerging in auburn locks to create patterns on the woman’s scalp. She was rewarded for the ministrations with a contented sound from Casey’s throat, her eyelids fluttering.

“Not sex,” Casey clarified in a whisper, “But hold me.” 

After a pause, in which blue eyes studied green intently, Alex sighed softly. “Let me get changed, and let me get you some makeup remover, and water.” 

Casey nodded and relented, lithe arms slipping away from Alex’s middle, and the blonde briefly exited the bedroom to fetch a glass of water, a small stack of wipes to erase the evidence of tear-streaked mascara from Casey’s cheeks, and to swap her jeans out for a college sweatshirt and pajama bottoms. She returned, bringing alongside the aforementioned items a bundle of nightclothes for Casey to change into. 

She looked away awkwardly as Casey slid the sleep shorts she had brought up the expanse of her legs, but in a shorter time than she expected she felt hands tugging gently at her sweatshirt. Alex turned back to see Casey still in the turtleneck she had thrust upon her, although her face was now clean and unmarred by cosmetics. 

“I want to sleep in this, if that's okay,” Casey murmured, tugging again on Alex’s hem, and the blonde tilted her shoulders slightly to indicate her indifference.

Casey wanted Alex to engage with her. Casey wanted Alex to create direction, give her something to respond too, something that would allow her to avoid the feeling of responsibility, of consciousness. She wanted Alex to take away the shame and the guilt, but Alex knew she couldn't do so. She didn't know what to do.

So she just stood there, quietly, observing the details of Casey's face while she waited for something that wasn't coming.

Casey took Alex's lack of motion as a signal of uninterest, her shrug as complete indifference, not just to the notion that Casey would sleep in her sweater but to Casey as a whole.

Her hands curled into balls around the fabric of Alex's sweatshirt as she gazed up at her, willing her to speak, which Alex didn't know how to. 

“What do you want me to do, Casey?” 

Her voice came out a bit flatter than she intended, and Casey’s forlorn exhale told Alex that tone wasn't what the redhead had wanted, but Casey didn't seem deterred enough to send Alex away. Even if she thought it was being fabricated, she wanted the comfort she thought she could find in Alex's form.

Casey paused, blinking once and then twice as a sort of resignation settled over her face, before letting go of Alex’s clothing to motion to the other side of the mattress. Alex agreeingly moved over and laid down on her side, still facing Casey, who wriggled until she was curled beside her, head near the flat of Alex’s chest. 

“Put one hand near my head, and the other on my shoulder.” Casey continued to direct in a hushed, numb tone, which Alex again immediately obliged too. Casey nestled closer, then closer still, before huffing a deep, forced breath. A small wave of anguish washed over Casey's expression, but was quickly replaced as her features went lax, and exhaustion overwhelmed her body.

Casey was asleep almost immediately. 

She must've been beyond drained, Alex thought to herself, sympathy still very evident in her eyes even with no conscious being there to witness it, although Casey hadn't seemed to realize her emotions even when she had been studying her.

Casey had misunderstood her initially, thinking Alex was bringing her back for some form of demented intercourse, and then further misunderstood her brief words now as a lack of enthusiasm, which she supposed in some way it was. It hurt Alex, the realization that Casey had fallen asleep thinking Alex didn't actually want to hold her and was only doing so through direction. She hoped she could fix it when she awoke.

She hoped Casey would remember, but then again, maybe it would be better- simpler, perhaps, if she didn't. 

She realized she had completely forgotten to update Stabler at all, and she’d definitely be receiving an earful about that the next time he saw her, but she couldn't bring herself to move away from Casey’s bundled figure, nor tear her eyes away from the steady rise and fall of the woman’s side as she breathed. Content, finally, and not in any sort of danger. Not overwhelmed, not anything numb, just asleep in Alex’s bed where the blonde could take care of her, at least physically. She could shield her from the dangers her desperation had led her too, at the very least. 

Alex paused, curling her fingers gently through locks of reddish blonde hair almost thoughtfully, before leaning in to press a final lingering kiss on Casey’s forehead. 

“I’m sorry, Casey.” Alex breathed quietly, “I did want you.” 

[multimousenette]

bkdkbk longfic recs

for @miss-multifandom-mess, who wanted fics that are:

Long & completed ☑️

Good balance of genres: angst, comedy, romance, the package deal

Accurate bakudeku (as a pair and individually)

Great dynamic 👍

Izuku is not ‘feminized’ or made uwu

I'll give title (linked to the fic) & author, word count, rating, dynamic if relevant*, content warnings, major tags and a synopsis.

I'll also put them in the following categories:

Canon compliant: this does not disagree with canon in any way (eg. character study of Kacchan during dark hero arc, anything during the 8 year time skip that has Kacchan saving up/Deku teaching)

Canon consistent: yeah that could more or less be canon (eg future pro heroes especially where deku keeps OFA)

Canon divergent: something during canon actively changes, but the world is the same (eg. becoming friends in middle school, one of them is on a different course, pro heroes but my gut says it's too far away to be really canon consistent)

Canon adjacent: feels like canon except for one Major Thing (eg. omegaverse, (non-quirk related) hanahaki but still heroes)

Alternate Universe (AU): completely different universe (eg fantasy, sci-fi, or no quirks)

*it ended up being mostly either bkdkbk (ie switching) or dkbk -- I've highlighted these red just in case, but I've included them cos people tend to use bkdk for the ship generally if they don't have a preference, and I couldn't see anything saying you were fixed bkdk on your acc

... and I'll put them below the cut cos this is already so long oh my god

In order of word count (high -> low):

I Will Find You by Purple_Insomniac (174k, T, canon consistent)

CW: Alt universe character death

Major tags: Parallel universes, angst w a happy ending.

Deku disappears in the middle of a rescue mission. Turns out, thanks to some OFA weirdness, the person who sent Izuku into an alternate universe… doesn’t know which one he’s in. Somehow, Izuku and Katsuki can speak in the OFA Vestige Realm, but it’s still a total nightmare trying to find which universe Izuku’s in — let alone bringing him home.

For it is Something That We Lost by TheGraveyardChild (160k, E, top Deku, canon divergent)

CW: past domestic abuse, past child abuse.

Major tags: Kidfic, angst with a happy ending.

Number four pro hero Dynamight returns to his hometown, but — to (number five pro hero) Deku’s surprise — he’s kind of flaky now. Turns out, this is because he has a daughter, and they’ve only just escaped his abusive ex. Slowly, Katsuki and Deku grow close again, but everything’s complicated when they start work on a child kidnapping/trafficking case — especially when Katsuki’s daughter is caught up in it.

Halfway to the Moon (But the Sun is So Bright) by Catsired (105k, T, canon divergent)

CW: Graphic depictions of abuse and self harm; depressed & suicidal Izuku; physically, financially, emotionally and verbally abusive Hisashi; bullying; mild homophobia.

Major tags: Middle School AU, Slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending.

Izuku has a lot on his plate. It’s his final year of middle school and between his training with All Might, the part time job he’s picked up to help his mum with bills, and Kacchan… being Kacchan, he’s about ready to drop. And then his dad comes home, and his mum is so happy he can’t bear to tell her that Hisashi hits him. Meanwhile, Katsuki notices there’s something up with Shitty Deku and somehow decides it’s his responsibility to fix it. And maybe, as they grow closer, he finds that doesn’t hate Deku so much anymore. Maybe he never really did.

Surprise Reunions and Childhood Rekindlings by ladyofsnails (90k, G, AU)

Major tags: Slice of life, no quirks AU, uni/college AU, mutual pining, FLUFF.

Izuku and Katsuki haven’t seen each other in five years, but it turns out their friends are friends — and incredibly shocked (and concerned) when the first thing Katsuki and Izuku do upon meeting is start roughhousing. The two of them fall straight back into their chaotic childhood dynamic… and in love. Obviously.

After All We’ve Been Through (You get turned into a fucking rabbit) by TigerLilies64 (88k, E, switching, canon consistent).

Major tags: crack treated seriously, fluff, hurt/comfort.

Pro hero Deku gets hit by a quirk that turns him into a rabbit hybrid. To make matters worse, he shapeshifts into an actual rabbit when his heart rate gets too high. Kacchan... helps. 

Tidal Hearts by macksmilesback and SamIsNotLegend (83k, T, AU) 

Major tags: h2o just add water/early 2000s mermaid AU, high school drama, mild angst, fluff.

Izuku and Katsuki were best friends as kids, but that all changes after they nearly drown while swimming in the ocean and Inko moves her and Izuku away. Years later, they reunite, and after Katsuki saves Izuku from a nasty hazing prank, end up… growing a tail any time they get wet. Well, that’s one way to spend their senior year of high school!

The Spell in Her Name by MerryWeatherWeather (62k, E, top Katsuki, canon divergent)

CW: Past OC teacher/student relationship, past minor character death, past child abandonment.

Major tags: kidfic, domestic fluff, mutual pining, angst. 

Pro hero Katsuki returns from working in the US and due to some complications, has nowhere to live, so pitches up at Deku’s house — and is shocked to discover that Deku has a child. Turns out, she was abandoned on his doorstep as a baby, and he took her in. When her mother initiates a public custody battle, Deku will do anything to keep his daughter — and Kacchan will do anything to help.

just for your love (I’ll give you the world) by thwnderpoint (52k, E, top deku, canon consistent)

Major tags: idiots to lovers, (light) angst with a happy ending, mutual pining.

Katsuki confesses to Izuku, and Izuku doesn’t want Kacchan to suffer or feel like he has to hold back his feelings. So he tells him not to. Kacchan takes this offer and runs with it. Izuku quickly realises that while he hadn’t considered Kacchan as a romantic option, he is in fact absolutely in love with him… but Kacchan thinks Izuku deserves better than him. Izuku, of course, can’t let that stand. And now they’re engaged in some sort of psychological flirt-off, much to the dismay of everyone around them.

Photo Op by whitetail (50k, M, top deku, canon adjacent)

CW: transphobia, gender dysphoria

Note: I LOVE the characterisation of Deku, he’s an absolute disaster, but I can see that it might be love it or hate it as the author does exaggerate his social issues a lot. This Deku is explicitly, intentionally autistic and it's a close third person POV so we're very much in his head... which is kind of a mess.

Major tags: trans izuku, autistic izuku, massive simp kacchan, comedy of errors, miscommunication, light angst.

Pro hero Deku has PR crisis after PR crisis and now the whole world knows about his Dynamight thirst blog and he’s newly insecure about his bottom surgery. And for some reason, Kacchan won’t stop asking him (him!!) to join him for a photoshoot, as if Deku’s stupid ugly face won’t ruin everything again. Still, he can’t say no to Kacchan… 

In Another Life by hollyandvice (44k, M, canon consistent)

Major tags: Parallel universes, grief/mourning, angst with a happy ending.

While fighting a villain, Kacchan disappears. Turns out, the villain has a parallel universe swapping quirk, and he was aiming to swap number one hero Deku for a quirkless civilian. Except, the only world the villain could find where Deku isn’t a hero is one where Kacchan is dead — so when Katsuki took the blow, no one swapped with him, and now no one knows how to get him back. Meanwhile, Katsuki discovers a dystopian world where half his friends are dead or injured — not to mention this world’s Deku, who is all sorts of broken up over meeting an adult Kacchan. Will he be able to fix the problems with this world before he gets home? And which world will he choose to stay in?

last days of war by antisora (44k, M, AU)

Major tags: Pacific Rim AU, Sci-Fi/Dystopian, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings.

Note: I've never watched pacific rim and had no issues with understanding what was going on. Author said there were lots of references, but you don't need existing knowledge to enjoy this.

All Izuku’s ever wanted is to save the world with his best friend… but his life doesn’t seem to be headed in that direction, especially when he doesn’t make it through the physical entrance exam for the best Jaeger pilot training school, UA. But after seeing him ace a Kaiju simulation, the world’s greatest ranger, All Might, intervenes, and Izuku is able to enrol at UA after all. Unsurprisingly, Kacchan’s there too — and their drift compatibility is through the roof. Much to Izuku’s dismay, even piloting a Jaeger together isn’t enough to regain their close friendship as children. Will almost dying (twice) be enough for them to finally be truly honest with each other?

The Time Between Our Lives by Fitzrovia (36k (56k inc. sequels), E, switching, canon divergent and AU)

Major tags: Hurt/comfort, angst w a happy ending.

Deku and Kacchan are sent back in time by a villain’s quirk and end up in an abandoned temple, quirkless. In order to escape — and return to their old lives — they must rake the gravel in the garden into a design that shows the beauty of all life. It takes a very, very long time.

Spacewalk by SamIsNotLegend (35k, M, AU)

CW: Major character death

Major tags: Sci-Fi/Horror, angst w a happy ending, grief/mourning.

Astronauts Izuku and Katsuki are set to co-lead the first manned mission to Jupiter… but a year and a half before launch, Izuku is hit by a car and dies. Katsuki has to lead the mission — their mission — alone, and sure enough, everything goes wrong. And keeps going wrong… until it starts going right. 

and a bonus totally-not-a-longfic-but-it-slaps:

Vertigo by Cyhyr (15k, T, canon adjacent)

Major tags: hanahaki, angst with a happy ending.

Pro hero Deku has hanahaki. He makes a plan to run away and just... die (when it gets too severe to keep working), but he didn’t account for Kacchan. 

[itsjustrosee]

Part 2 for stranded please😔 that call made me lose my mind tbh😔😔thx<3

yes of course I will make a part two!! I really just wanted to say thank you for all of the support on the first part, I'm really happy that you guys liked it <3

I've never written anything as um- graphic- as this before, so if it's bad I'm sorry

But since yall asked, here it is

Stranded pt.2 (Minho x fem!reader)

Pt.1, Pt.2

Context: Go read the first part, that will explain everything (u could read this as a one shot tho I guess)

Warnings: cursing and lots of smut 😖

Word count: 2.8k

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

As Minho hung up the phone you couldn't wait to pull his lips back on to yours. Once he did so, he quickly put his phone back in his pocket and turned all of his attention back to you. You drew towards him again, putting your chest right up against his, eliminating any previous space you had from each other.

Your lips merged onto each others again and it resulted in a long, hungry and desperate kiss. You felt heat radiating off of Minho's body as you continued to put your hands all over him. He did the same as he kept his left hand on your ass to keep you propped up on the wall as he continued to kiss you. His other hand found it's way up your thigh, inching higher and higher up. You could feel yourself throbbing between your legs, and eventually you started to become more and more desperate for Minho.

You moved one of your hands to the back of his neck and the other traced down Minho's defined chest and eventually to his lower mid drift, and you gently slipped your fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants. You could feel him grow even harder between your legs because of the sudden contact.

The tension in the room was thick and heavy and you could sense that you were both longing for even more of each other.

"Wow someone's a little eager, huh?" Minho said breathlessly while pulling away from the kiss. The deep rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine and you couldn't help but feel even more turned on by him.

"Oh shut up Minho." You say while panting. I mean, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't eager, and you'd also be lying if you said you hadn't woken up after dreaming about moments like these with Minho for months.

However, you had always chided yourself for thinking about him in such a way. But why would you even want to admit that you had a crush on the guy who enjoyed making fun of you?

Still no matter how wrong you thought it was, you knew deep down that he was the only boy at your school that you had ever felt any sort of attraction towards. Something drew you to him and you were just so used to denying it and how you felt about him. But now, after admitting out loud that you liked him, it felt as if a pressure in you that was building up by the day had finally disappeared. You didn't even know how long you had been waiting to say it but when you did, it just felt right.

Minho on the other hand didn't have to try and convince himself otherwise. He knew that he liked you, but he could never find the right way to tell you. He was always worried of how you would react if he did. If you would laugh at him or tease him, or if you wouldn't even take him seriously, if you would just think he was joking with you. The thought of ruining any chance of talking to you again, even though the only talking you guys did included insults and teasing the other person, scared him regardless. But he could only avoid telling you for so long. He knew he would end up breaking and saying something to you one day.

After sharing another brief kiss you pulled away from Minho again, "Come on, let's go up to my room." You said while unwrapping your legs from his waist and putting your feet back on the floor, holding his hand in yours as you led him upstairs and into your room. You entered your room and Minho walked in after you, closing the door behind him.

You took off your tights and Minho stepped forward, helping you take off your shirt. He crashed his lips onto yours once more and you had one hand on his chest while the other was futzing with your skirt, desperate to get it off.

Once you had stripped off your remaining pieces of clothing, you remained only in your bra and underwear. Once of your hands traveled lower again and you began to pull down on the waist band of Minho's sweatpants once more. He soon got the hint and pulled down his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers. Articles of clothing were scattered around the floor as you and Minho stood close to the edge of your bed. He continued to kiss you as you palmed him through his underwear, causing him to exhale a soft moan as you did so.

You drew away from Minho, one hand lingering on his chest as you dropped down to your knees. You used your other hand to pull down Minho's boxers and they loosely fell to his ankles as his cock sprung out, hitting his stomach. Beads of precum glittered his cock as you took his length in your hands, steadying yourself by removing you hand from his chest and placing it on his upper thigh.

Very quickly, you had to mentally prepare yourself for what you were getting yourself into because Jesus, he was big to say the least.

You could hear Minho's breathing hitch as you slowly began rubbing him up and down, thumb gliding over his tip softly as you looked up at him. "Who's eager now, hm?" You say in a seductive tone that makes Minho's mind spin. You hear him let out a scoff in response.

You let out a giggle as you bring your head closer, littering kissing on Minho's cock as you licked him up and down. He groaned quietly and flung his head back, taking one of his hands and putting it on the back of your head. He tugged at your hair as you kept kissing and rubbing his length up and down, changing your pace from fast to slow in order to tease him slightly.

He moaned once more, "You're really never going to stop teasing me, huh?" He said with a soft chuckle while pulling his head back up, allowing himself to look at you. He was making a joke but it was obvious that he was desperately waiting for you to give him more.

"I'm not teasing you Minho." You said in an innocent voice before pausing, "Just tell me what you want me to do."

"Oh- come on. You know what I want you to do." He says while continuing to let out soft moans due to you to licking him up and down, taking his tip in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it before pulling away once more.

"Maybe I do. But I want to hear you say it." You say while grinning up at him. You knew you were being a bit unfair to him but you just loved seeing him act like this, the way he turned into putty at your touch. I guess you could say you finally liked having some power over him, after he was the one teasing you for so many years.

You could hear in his voice how impatient he was getting, "I want my dick down your throat," he said while beginning to grip your hair harder. "Is that clear enough for you Princess?" He said. His tone more desperate and pleading this time.

"Your not even going to ask me politely?" you questioned, knowing that you were definitely pushing your luck, but you wanted to see how far he'd be willing to let you tease him.

Minho sighed before he continued, "Please." And that was all you needed to hear.

You took Minho's cock in your mouth all at once, choking on his length as the head of his dick hit the back of your throat. He let out a groan and threw his head back once more. You pulled your mouth away and then kept sucking him off. The way you swirled your tongue around his dick warranted whimpers and moans from Minho that he was clearly trying to hold in.

Minho was a popular guy and he had been with girls previously. Maybe he had gotten drunk at a party or two and gotten lucky with some random girl, but nothing compared to how you took him. You were gentle yet so passionate with him and he was absolutely losing his mind. He was sure he would never be able to feel this good from anyone else's doing but yours.

He mumbled words of praise to you as you continued to quite literally, suck the life out of him, and you enjoyed seeing how pleasured he felt by your touch.

Minho used the hand he had on your head to guide your movements as you continued to move your mouth up and down his cock. And sooner then even Minho imagined, he was almost over the edge.

"Oh- fuck- I'm close." Minho said breathlessly, yet despite his warnings you kept your movements the same. And when he finally came in your mouth, you swallowed every last bit of him up.

"You did so well for me baby." Minho said while helping you back up, bringing you in and kissing you again. He took a handful of your ass in his large hands, making you moan into his mouth at the sudden contact. Then suddenly, he picked you up and tossed you onto the bed and he began to climb on top of you.

"What are you doing?" You asked with a mix of confusion and excitement in your voice.

"What do you mean? Did you really think that I'd be done with you already?" He questioned again as he looked down at you with a grin that you couldn't help but to reciprocate. "It's your turn now princess." He said while sliding off your panties.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't been soaking wet this entire time. The ache between your legs was prominent as Minho slid his fingers into you, making you moan loudly.

"Wow looks like someone's already excited, huh?" Minho said, teasing you slightly as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. He was being agonizingly slow and you cursed at yourself mentally for teasing him earlier because now he planned on doing the exact same to you.

"Well your one to talk." You said with a bit of an attitude, but in actuality you were just trying to pull yourself together. You couldn't help but moan as Minho used his free hand to squeeze your breast and used his mouth to kiss the skin along your bra line.

"So you're giving me attitude now, hm?" He said softly as he brought his mouth up to your ear and whispered.

"N-no I'm sorry, just please-" You said, voice breaking because of how Minho's thumb began circling your cunt.

"Please what? Use your words sweetheart." He said against your ear as he began kissing you down your neck.

"Please Minho you know what I want you to do." you say before continuing, "please don't make me say it." you said, basically begging him. I mean, it was bad enough how eager you were to let his hands explore all over your body, you weren't trying to loose the last ounce of pride and dignity you had left.

"Fine. I'll let you off easy just this once princess. But next time I'm making you beg for it." Minho said slowly and you could tell he wasn't lying.

He took his fingers out of you and moved his way down your body, his head stopping at your thighs as he used his hands to spread them apart. He kissed the skin on the inside of your thighs before turning his attention to your throbbing pussy.

He licked a strip through your folds and then his mouth began to attack your heat. You moan and throw your head back as he continues to devour you. Each lick sending shivers down your spine, making your back arch, further incasing his head between your thighs. He kept both of his hands at your hips firmly to keep you from squirming out of your grip. And as he continued to go down on you, he worked magic with his tongue and you could soon feel heat rising to your core as he did so. He ate you out as if he were a starved man who hadn't eaten in days, and you couldn't help but continuously moan his name while he did so. You kept your hand on his head, ruining his perfectly styled hair while doing so, while your other hand on your mouth, trying so desperately to silence your loud moans.

You feel yourself on the brink of an orgasm as you gasped out, "Minho I'm- I'm really close." But before you could cum, Minho pulled his face away from your pussy making you whimper, "What? why- why'd you stop?" you said while panting.

"Sorry baby, but if your going to come, then it'll be around my cock." Minho says with a smirk as finds his way back on top of you, legs between yours and his hands resting on either side of you. He was already rock solid again as he lined the tip of his dick up with your entrance.

He began pushing in his head slowly and you let out a sharp gasp. You hadn't actually processed how big Minho was, not until he was about to go inside you. "Your too big." You could barley mumble out.

"You're alright baby. I know you'll be able to take it, right?" He asks, waiting for you to give him an actual confermation. He wasn't going to ever force you into something you didn't want to do.

You let out a nod but Minho just looked at you once more, "Words sweetheart." Minho reminded you as a soft smile tugged on the edge of his lips.

"I-I will be." You say before gulping, "I'll be okay." He brushed his hand against your cheek and moved a piece of your hair behind your ear as you said this.

"Good girl. That's what I thought." Minho cooed, and with one swift push he entered you fully, allowing his thick cock to stretch out your walls. You moaned loudly and the quick pain you felt turned into pleasure as you enjoyed the feeling of being filled up by him.

"Fuck- your so tight." Minho said as he let out a groan, slowly pulling himself back out of you and then in again.

You had been with only one other boy before and though you had thought of it as a good experience, comparing it to the one you were having with Minho right now, it was nothing. Minho knew exactly what he was doing and he was great at doing it. He knew just the right ways to make you squirm and moan his name, and it was safe to say he definitely knew how to get the right reaction out of you. You could do nothing but savor the feeling of him in you, he made you feel whole.

Your moans only got louder as Minho continued to pump deeply in and out of you. Again, you felt yourself growing closer and closer to an orgasm and Minho could feel this by the way your walls began to tighten even more around his cock. He slowed his thrusts down and would then speed up again, edging on your orgasm.

"Minho please.” you said desperately as he continued to pound into you.

"please what baby?" Minho said while panting. You had to give it to him, he had the stamina of a god. I mean shocker he's on the track team, so that's to be expected.

"Please just let me come- I'm so close." You said, your tone even more desperate then before as you basically begin to beg him.

"Alright princess, since you asked nicely." Minho said with a chuckle. God he still managed to be cocky even in situations like these. You could tell that he was close by the way his thrusts ended up become harder yet more and more sloppy. You felt waves of euphoria coming over you as one last thrust on Minho’s end was able to tip you over the edge. You finally unwound under him, moaning and overstimulated as he finished in you with one last thrust. “You’re so good for me.” Minho said while he kept his cock in your pussy for a moment longer. He gently kissed you as he pulled out and laid down next to you on the bed, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “You did so well baby, you know that right?” He said breathlessly as you both lied there panting. It definitely sounded like you had just ran a marathon now.

You looked at him and smiled as turned to your side and rested your hand on his chest.

“come on princess let’s take a shower and get you cleaned up,” Minho said while kissing you once more on the forehead before getting up and offering his hand to help you up from your bed.

God, you loved this man.

@minminho0 (Im proud of myself for not forgetting to tag u lol)

okay yall this is it and I really hope you guys liked it. It took me a while to finish this because Ive never rlly written anything like this but uh theres a first time for everything right?

Also I have seen ur guys requests and I'm going to start working on them now but I will be doing a kind of first come first serve typa thing.

anyways I just wanted to say thank you again for all of the support that you guys have been giving me, it really means so much ❤️

[moonbiscuitsims]

SIMDEW VALLEY SET 🍄👩🏿‍🌾🐷🐴🐄🧙🏿‍♂️🌻🌽

Stardew Valley Pixel Art Floors/Walls/Deco (TS4) Download Below

Aside from a couple most of these pics are just the demo pics showing what's included, more CC in game pics can be seen here

🍄Misc Large Decals

In order: Junimo huts + large Junimos, Holdiay Decor and "sky decor", furniture items, rarecrows, plants.

🍄Wall Decals Paintings and Banners:

🍄Wall Decals Misc small:

Adventure stuff and boots, small junimos, random furniture items slime monsters different expressions

🍄Wall decals Gems and Minerals:

I didn't do them all, just some that I liked.

🍄Wall decals farm animals

🍄Wall decals Fishing

Again just the fish I wanted to do, not all:

🍄Wall decals Harvestables, Crops, Products:

Here's a random in game pic (see more in links provided at top or bottom of post), all decals show through glass too!

🍄Stardew Valley Villagers (yes the bear is a villager I refuse to accept otherwise) portraits

The portraits are the only item with actual dimension, I recoloured a base game framed painting, so these are not flat like the rest of decals. (they look a bit orange but that's just my mood lighting)

🍄Walls and Flooring (indoor and outdoor flooring)

I did all the ones you see here:

For the floors I made a large and small version of all:

🍄You can see more CC in game pics in my wip post here

Are you sick and tired of those smooth graphics from Sims 4? Do you wish you could replace those pesky curves and detailed HQ textures with nothing but square pixel heaven and flat colours? To be finally rid of all those 3D bump/light effects and replace them with volume-less cardboard cut-out illusion and imagination? Do you want your build/game to look just like Stardew Valley? Or do you simply think that if the sims team are gonna give us low poly and low quality meshes and textures might as well do it properly? Fear not! The solution is here! I made a new Stardew Valley save (why I need yet another save that I'll never have time to complete I don't know) and tried my first build, the recreation of my current (and only) farm. It was ok but I got frustrated at how "Sims 4" everything looked, and checked for stardew valley cc conversions, art, decor but only find people making it using sims 4 stuff, which is probably the most logical thing but not for me! So I made this as there are plenty of game assets from Stardew Valley available online and however tedious and time-consuming resizing the tiniest of pixel art images is to fit Sims 4, it is fairly easy and doable, so I did it. I did skip some items in each category as there are way too many and just did the ones I like, sorry if there was one I didn't include. Also there are some floors in the game or icons that I couldn't find. Some Junimos were taken from the internet but most are individually resized game assets. INFO: all decals in wall deco, all are zero simoleons, and the portraits are 10. You can find my stuff typing "moonbiscuitsims" or "stardew". All have correct colour filter tags and removed "talk to object (insane)" and "can be struck by lightning" (these things annoy me or could cause more distractions for my sims, sorry if you like this though I'm sure there are plenty of objects to talk to/ lightning strikable objects). I don't know if this has an effect. All the portraits are just tagged as brown. All are resizable to your liking. Forgot to mention the floors i think are in wood flooring and outdoor flooring; and I think the walls in panelling. REQUIREMENTS: Nada, nothing. Just base game. (though I did accidentally make one item from a get to work decal by mistake, I remade it to fix it and I've play tested everything, but let me know if something doesn't show up.

PLEASE READ AND RESPECT MY TOU AND DO NOT ❌❌❌: - ❌ Reupload - ❌ Include in sim downloads - ❌ Put behind paywall of any kind no matter what. - ❌ Claim as yours. If you wanna use the texture files to make other different original content that is fine as long as it is different from mine and NO PAYWALLS and no reuploading my stuff. The images are from Stardew Valley, but I spent ages editing every single one to fit the sims, and this took me days to do. All my stuff is free. I don't care about conversions to ts2 or ts3 but NO PAYWALLS and please tag and credit me. If used for screenshots please tag me too, I'd love to see <3 🍄DOWNLOAD (including a pick and choose or a merged file with everything, don't get both) 🍄ALT DOWNLOAD PATREON Enjoy! Happy Simming/Farming

🌵🥥🌴NEW!! Calico Desert Addon🌴🥥🌵

Stardew Valley fav music playlist 🎵🎵🎵

[streets-in-paradise]

Salut! I hope my request is not too strange !

Can you write a Achilles x reader where the reader is a minor godess send by Thetis to protect Achilles ? And maybe calm him ? And she start having feelings for him but denied them because she is a godess and he is a mortal ? (Don't write it if it's too weird, and good luck ! Juste wanted to say that i loved your Briseis fic )

Hi!!!

Thank you so much! Your request is perfectly good and something I can definitely write.

Partícularly for me, i feel Troy (2004) often replicates the Lord of the Rings films atmosphere of a mythical age that has perished, but is not completely extinguished. I see that in the way the characters speak of the gods or even in the political conflicts. When Agamemnon says " Achilles is the past" what it really feels for me he is saying is " Achilles is the Age of Heroes, and I am the start of recorded history."

For so, I am up to include the mythical elements in my fics. With the exception of Achilles' mom, since we do see her, the greek gods in Troy are kinda like the Valar in LOTR. Not present in sight, but felt in the narrative through actions of the mortal characters if you dig deep enough.

That being said, and forgive me for rambling, this concept is perfect to write a fic about :)

Beyond Duty, Beyond Limits - Achilles x Goddess!Reader

Warnings: Forbidden mortal x inmortal where the inmortal denies herself because she behaves like a guardian. Reader replaces Athena talking on his mind lotr elf-style so he won't kill Agamemnon.

Summary: Enraged by the insults of Agamemnon, Achilles hides in his tent after your divine intervention stopped him from taking a more dangerous course of action. You attempt to bring him calm and an explanation, but he reads in you more than what you can admit.

Note: Dividers by @saradika-graphics

He could have killed the King, but the soft whisper of your voice in his mind stopped the blade. Achilles didn't have much respect for any other inmortal that wasn't his mother, but he learned to recognize you always came to him in behalf of her.

A rankless sea deity under the Nereids had more influence on him than the Olympians themselves. It could be said that them probably shared the impression of Agamemnon seeing a mere slave girl finding the obbedience they couldn't. What they wouldn't consider, imposible for beings of rank as high as them, is that you got results because you came to him as a friend.

His guardian, a friendly voice he could trust what he wouldn't share to his mortal friends and relatives. Someone apart from his mother knowing the deepness of his being. Aware of the fate cornering him, your task was the one of a companion for a hero already sentenced to a brief life. From all of his friends, you were to onlyone who knew his death was near.

Falling for him was the worst possible outcome for you, but fitting curse given Aphrodite played in the trojan side. The damage she couldn't inflict on Athena or Hera, she had unleashed in a lesser deity with no power to face her. At that point you were way beyond duty, beyond limits. Noticing his interest on the priestess have made you jealous of a mortal as you ate your love for the blond-haired hero. Imposible passion for you, destructive if consummated.

Achilles returned to his tent to find you already waiting for him, sitting on his spot on the bed directing him a calm smile. As soon as he got inside, you stood up offering wine you served from his own crater.

" I guessed you would need a drink. "

It landed like a mock and he wasn't in the mood for that.

" It's not wise to seek my company right now."

It made you chuckle, but you insisted taking the drink to his hand.

" I have never been wise, and you are the one finding yourself in need of mine."

He accepted the vase, slightly surprised of the servile attitude you adopted with the gesture. Despite lower in rank than his mother, you were still a deity, and pouring was usually a submissive act of service from the minor gods to the greater ones.

" Must I guess that following your advice was a mistake? ... Maybe I should have killed Agamemnon."

Trying to pretend solemnity, you evoked his greatest goals in hopes of helping him get a glimpse of the bigger scale in the situation.

" And how would history have remembered you then? 'Achilles, the usurper' the man that killed his leader for a woman. "

Only a shade of jealousy escaped from the intentionality of your speech, but it was easy to hide. If you mentioned the woman as a lesser cause, that made sense with your divine nature.

" I would have ended with a tyrant." He replicated and collapsed on his bed after finishing the liquid with one big sip and throwing away the vase, careless for the smashing. " I would have freed us all, greeks and trojans, a savior taken in geat reverence by both."

" You would have been marked as a traitor, you would have lost your honor and everything you fought for." You corrected in return as you paced closer. " Does the niece of Priam justify such great loss? She may be beautifull, but she could be your downfall if you don't proceed with care."

His glance, lost somewhere else untill that comment, got suddenly fixated on you. Anger dissipated for merely an instant, and he smirked with seductive self satisfaction.

" Are you jealous of her? Did you talk to me because you needed to prove you too can stop my blade? "

You endured the accusation with stoic dignity, giving a few steps back with a deadly serious expression.

" You may be beautifull beyond the limits of this Age of Heroes in decline, son of Peleus, but you aren't worth my downfall."

It made him chuckle, shades of skepticism in his semblance to matter he could see you wouldn't discuss.

" I won't fight for Agamemnon: I am going to sit back and watch his downfall. There is a spot reserved for you, If you want to, ... right next to me."

He tapped the side of the surface that served him as bed, playfully indicating you could lay with him if you wanted to do so.

" I thought you would wish to ask me how your mortal is doing, and If I can keep an eye on her for you." You carried on with the formal topic, refusing to follow his game. " Agamemnon is terrified of the effect she had on you: he may try to use her for bargain, but I doubt he would dare to hurt her by himself."

Your words have tranquilized at least the most inminent of his concerns. If the wound in his pride was his greatest pain, fear to feel like he was powerlessly abandoning that girl to be raped by the commander in chief was the actual sensitive aspect troubling him.

" Briseis prays more than me, she genuinely believes your kind would help her. I think right now she probably deserves your help more than I do. "

That selflessness, so rare to find in him, was melting your heart.

" I will not leave untill we have found your calm, then I will see what I can do without overstepping the territory of Apollo ... Who, by the way, must be very furious after you challenged him at the gates of his temple. "

Remembrance of his biggest act of hubris to the date got from him a taunting, purposedly innocent-looking smile.

" Being my inmortal guardian must be a terrible task, like the ironic punishment through a service impossible to achieve one gets in the Underworld after failing in life. "

The tease was about how very much exasperating he could get to be from your point of view as someone in charge of protecting him from the consecuencies of his misguided actions. Although sometimes it could be hard, that wasn't precisely the biggest challenge for you.

You smirked in return, ready to release a properly delivered sample of your denied affections.

" I accomplish it with patience, ... and love."

[silentghosttimez]

Since everyone's reading comprehension clearly just went out the window when the person in the Epstein documents asked about Michael Jackson. The girl literally said nothing happened. And to go into more detail, this was before anything about Epstein came to light and when Epstein was still fronting as one of those financial businessmen. MJ was LITERALLY THOROUGHLY investigated and HEAVILY survellienced by the government/FBI for over 2 decades BEFORE and AFTER meeting Epstein, the FBI REALLY wanted MJ gone from the public eye, they even tried to use his childhood photos and some playboy magazines to prove he was guilty. In the 2000s MJ was in conflict with Sony and was going broke, some people(we dont know who they were yet) recommended he go to Epstein to solve financial issues. MJ dipped out and Epstein never got his number, his name literally was not in that black book. Y'all keep bringing up those false accusations with the boys when if you actually look up anything on it, the boys came forward and said their parents lied, and the bed thing was false because MJ's room was huge and had two beds, he had the PARENTS AND THEIR KIDS sleeping in the beds in his room while HE slept in his own GUEST ROOM.

Stop making shit up when the people who wanted so badly for him to do something criminal literally couldn't find anything at all in all those years that he was looked at so closely to the point he was literally having mental breakdowns from being watched every where he went, during every call, and so on.

(edit: To add to this, people constantly lie about his skin and how he felt about himself and his body too. When for one, his autopsy was right there and literally says he suffered from lupus and Vitilogo and his hair was literally the way it was due to it being set on fire in that one Pepsi commercial, there are literally graphic images of just how badly his scalp had been damaged. He never hated himself or his blackness, infact he actively tried to hide his white splotches for as long as he could. He used makeup and skincare stuff that he was unaware had any bleaching affects in the ingredients. He was very open and loud about being proud of his African heritage, he even was crowned in an African village.

I made this post cause I started tweaking because the singular black breadtuber I was watching was reading the Epstein documents and when he got to Michael being mentioned he and everyone in chat suddenly became illiterate and he was talking some shit like "it would seem he really was that guy if those documentaries, court stuff and articles didn't already convince you" like WHAT??? And chat was agreeing and someone was like "the Twitter stans are still gonna find a way to defend him after this" mind you, if you weren't bread dead and believed all that slander, all the court stuff declared and pretty much proved his innocence and later one people including his own friends and family came forward saying they were forced and coerced into lying. Those documentaries that came out and so many of those articles were straight up slanderous because they were damn tabloids, I don't get why people are still trying to use tabloids as proof when they were known for spreading rumors that often were not true in the slightest. This shit actually has me genuinely heated. Like, the breadtuber didn't bother reading the rest and was just like "well that proves it" even though it was stated right below that Epstein did not have his contact. Then there's the dumbasses on Twitter too making this shit worse. You'd think that most people at some point would bother to actually use their brains and seek out as much info as possible instead of taking lies and running with it, especially if they have a platform where they literally should be doing such a thing but nope. The guy was iffy about the star wars guy and whether or not he was actually a contact in Epstein's list but that same grace was not afforded to MJ.

Another edit:Oh and also it's wild MJ's false accusations are always brought and people say Elvis and Prince are better than him meanwhile Elvis and Prince were known pedos and abusers. Like are you fucking kidding me!!!)

[theresourcedhunt]

INDIE ROLEPLAY SET UP :

You must give credit if you take some or all of my set-up pieces as your own. This doesn't include the templates that I didn't make. But if you use the same templates, tagging, format, etc as me or some of the mixed bags (not just templates alone) then crediting me is mandatory as you didn't come up with the mixed bag.

some of the templates I used in my set up are NOT made by me. There is credit linked for everyone to grab them if you want.

if you have any questions please feel free to message me

PINNED POST

URL HERE a BLANK TYPE OF BLOG written by ALLIAS ( PRONOUNS / PRONOUNS, +AGE, TIMEZONE ). All triggers are tagged extensively. All muses are canon divergent, influenced by their source material. this blog doesn't adhere to strict canon. STARTED ON 00 / 00 / 0000.

guidelines . . . muse list . . . navigation . . . meme tag . . . writing sample . . . interaction call . . . promo . . . blogroll . . . credits . . . spotify . . . pinterest . . . sideblog

used this header psd by carestuff but edited ● font I used was Blackadder ITC for the top, Forte for the bottom

used this website for a fancy font ( I used the font called "BOLD FONT" )

Casual reminder that if you link a Google doc or to Spotify, that it will show your name, so make sure you are using a roleplay / burner based account so no one has access to your personal information, such as your real name.

TAGGING SYSTEM

I created this section in Google Docs for every single one of my muses. Below is a link to the symbols I used.

❥ . . . ( tester | tester )

ARC VS VERSE : every single character gets both an arc and a verse that is undecided. Since you can search by both ARC and VERSE, I felt this would make the most sense. A verse is the overreaching section, so for example, SUPERNATURAL is a show, so it gets its own verse. Now for an ARC, I would be putting different sections in for, say, I want Hope to have a soulless arc, then that would be where that would go. Or say I want Hope to have an arc that she has her humanity off, it would fall under the arc section. It's not a big enough theme for me to make it a whole verse.

I can use the tag of no humanity in an arc repeatedly. Combined with, say, searching my Queen of Nola verse and the arc of no humanity, it should give you all of the information written about her no humanity time in said verse. Above picture shows you how I format my verse posts.

CHARACTER ID: This is an overreaching tag that covers pretty much anything written by me for that character, so answered asks, interactions, headcanons, drabbles, etc. all fall in line with this. You could also add it to your visage and musing tags, but I personally don't find that helpful.

This is an example of my tags underneath a reply of mine. More will be explained soon about what everything else means.

This is what I used to tag all the different types of calls I make. So someone can click on, say my meme call, and get to like a call for them to be sent memes.

Any reblogged content went here minus the ask memes, but you could very well put ask memes there as well.

This section is anything related to my set up. Now, I have two different blogs (more to come on why I do that later). This kind of shows you how I break things up.

The extra section is really anything that I couldn't figure out where it might go. So promos, scheduled posts, dash games, etc.

This one feels very self-explanatory. Anything that I personally want saved goes here

This section is anything created by me or something I agree with strongly. Graphics are different than my adventures in ps. The first for me is like character edits, while the second one is maybe asking for opinions or showing people what I am excited for.

I'm not a huge talker in the tags person. However, I do find a few things helpful to point out like when something might be triggering, if one should look at a link I put in my replies, making sure that people know to send the whole prompt not just the symbol (in case it takes me a moment to get it done and I need to know what the instructions for the meme was to prevent deleting a meme because all I see is a symbol or word and therefore have no idea which meme it is attached to. Sending the whole sentence is helpful and doesn't require a two-step process like asking for the meme and the link simultaneously. It is also beneficial to tell people to tell me what muse things are for as well, so that way I am not playing a guessing game.

The potentially triggering topic for me is an overall tag for triggers. I do also break it down into say " clowns tw " as well just for blacklisting purposes. However, the blanket tag covers so that say I forget someone is triggered by something and I forgot to tag it, there is a possibility that this might save it a little bit.

This section of tagging is where I get an overview of things. So, say you aren't looking for any muse's writing in particular that you want to see, but you want to see if we are a good fit to write together. Then you might want to see all my writing, which has answered asks, headcanons, drabbles, and interactions in it. Or maybe you only want to see thread interactions, so you'd go to all replies.

Since there might be a lot of tags (depending on if you are a multiuse or not), I recommend using a Google Docs or a draft post to hold all of your tags for easy keeping.

FORMATTING

The two dividers are from two different sources. The thin one was made by theresourcedhunted, and the thick one was made by dividing by underesources. However, I edited it to remove many of the fancy pieces as I wanted something a tad simpler.

To make my gifs centered without editing them, I use THIS blank space / image.

❝ ❞ is what I use for my dialogue around spoken words. ● A tutorial on making adding coloring to your replies faster without going into the HTML, but a single time. You could always use the few colors tumblr has built in for simplicity.

There are about 4 to 5 spaces between my dialogue and the rest of my text. I'm still trying to figure out what I like personally in that department.

To simplify things, if you use a Windows computer to hotkey and streamline some things, I use aText, a Microsoft Store application. All I have to do is enter a specific combo of letters and words to get a unique key or spacing that I set up myself.

【 ✉️ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 】 : this is for any sent messages by my muse. Again, the fancy font is the same one I used in my pinned post. You could use fancy emojis and things. I colored the text of the name and bold it. The actual text is in a small-sized font along with regular normal Tumblr font.

【 📩 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 】 : this is what I tend to use for messages that my message receives. So, if I am writing a reply that my muse is talking to their friend, but my muse's mother texts them, and I want to show it, that is how I do it.

I personally like to link in headcanons in my replies and things for others to read if needed, share links to songs that might be heard in a reply, or pinterest links to images of maybe the muse's style that is relevant to a reply. I mentioned this in my rules so others know that there will never me links to malware or anything else and is always in good faith.

My formatting doesn't really change for headcanons. I use bolded fonts for the header of each headcanon. Then, bullet points might make it easier for others to find information and read.

every post that I make that isn't a starter tends to follow the same spacing that I mentioned being between my dialogue and using the same bolded font that I always use and was linked above.

Now onto another important thing being what all do I make headers for?

photoshop adventures

liveblogging tv shows

out of character posts

biography post

links section

arcs section

lore post

headcanon post

locations post ● pretty much anything that I think of that could use a title gets a header

You can find my stats template HERE

To show dead pets, siblings, parents, etc. I tend to use ✞ for deceased family and pets

the icon template that I made (without the fade to black)

fade to black ( photoshop action ).

This is what I am currently working on icons for my blog.

gif made by me. could use any template from HERE

my dash icon is currently from HERE, but you could use anything from HERE

MUSE LIST

This is what my muse list looks like. All of my stats go to my sideblog. My sideblog's pinned post looks like my pinned post on my main blog. For the title of all fandoms, they are in the same bold heading that I have done thus far.

OPEN . . . means accepting memes & starters without plotting SEMI SELECTIVE . . . means accepting memes & starters without plotting but will be slower to respond SELECTIVE . . . means accepting memes & starters but would prefer plotting with this muse and I will be slower to respond PLOT BASED . . . means that I don't accept memes & starters for this muse without plotting first. If you ignore this, then your request / meme will be denied. EXCLUSIVE . . . means that this muse is for only a certain number of people. click the link on their name to figure out who this meme is for.

These few things explain what my muse list is like regarding organization.

RULES

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐍 . . .

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 . . .

𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 . . .

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 . . .

𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 . . .

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 . . .

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 ≠ 𝐌𝐔𝐍 . . .

𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 . . .

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 + 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 . . .

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃 . . .

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇 + 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 . . .

𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 . . .

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 . . .

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 . . .

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 . . .

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌. . .

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 & 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 . . .

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 . . .

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐒 . . .

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒 . . .

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 . . .

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 & 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 . . .

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 . . .

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐍𝐎'𝐒. . .

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 . . .

𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 . . .

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐀 . . .

𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 . . .

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 . . .

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 . . .

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 . . . ● I used the same unique font and bolding/coloring as usual for everything. Then, I did everything else in the regular Tumblr font. ● Some of these sections might not be needed in your case, or you might find you need to add more sections. Do whatever works for you.

Alright, here is a tip. If you have several tags and want to narrow down, say, a certain verse that has headcanons about it, as long as you know what the tag names are, you could enter both tags separated by a + in the middle to get all the posts between two tags (and possibly more, but I have not checked that out). So, if you are really organized tag-wise, then you can easily filter things out.

[ktdragonborn]

Another Spencer. (Chapter 2)

Carlton Lassiter X Female Reader (Shawn's Sister)

Summary: You finally moved back to California after almost 15 years away. When your mom and dad separated, your dad got Shawn and your mom took you. (Don't ask me why it's just what they agreed on). But now you're back! And you never expected to meet such a dashing Detective that would sweep you off your feet.

Characters: You, Carlton, Shawn and Gus, Juilet, Henry Spencer (dad), Madeleine Spencer (mom), Chief Karan Vick, mention of many other characters.

Warnings: Some bar tension, some dude tries to hit on you for approximately three seconds, so nothing bad. There will be smut and other graphic scenes as the story progresses.

~This story follows the show Psych. Plots from episodes are mentioned and some chapters will have you added to them. I do not own any characters from the TV Psych, just a big fan of the show and a bigger fan of our boy Lassie. I couldn't ever find something that hit my craving for Lassiter so here I am. This will also be a very long story. Very long. I'm starting it towards the end of Season 2 and plan on writing it throughout the whole show, skipping some episodes but in the end, it'll be very long.~

I forgot to add this to the first chapter, but let me know in the comments if you wanna be added to the tag list! Thank you everyone for the support so far on this story!

Chapter 1.

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

You walked into your office bright and early in the morning. It was only your second week in California, let alone in this office, and you were still getting used to traffic and the city's layout. So much had changed since you last visited Santa Barbara, and it was a tad overwhelming at times. 

You turned on the overhead lights and started to prep your office for the day. Small lamps where you conducted your sessions and plenty of green plants around your office. It wasn't a huge area. There was a small lobby entrance for a waiting room-type thing. You had filled the room with a couch and a couple of chairs with a coffee table. Magazines and books for people to read as well as a water cooler. A small desk sat next to the door that led to the larger part of your office. There was a computer and phone set up. No one used it except for you, you weren't busy enough to justify hiring a receptionist- although you have thought about reaching out to Shawn since you know he's bored when he doesn't have a case to work. 

You set your bag down and grabbed everything you needed for the day from your desk. Thankfully, you had two new clients today. Your full schedule included four patients, two new ones, and two “regulars”. They were the first two to join your clinic and have been coming to you ever since. You were thankful for their “business”, and they had been spreading the word about you to their friends, promising every time they see you that they’ve got friends trying to find time to come see you. You set up in the larger room, sitting in your “therapist chair” as Shawn so lovingly described it. You read over the file of the first patient today. They wanted a check-up/check-in with their mental health. In the file they described what they had been feeling, they had been anxious in the workplace and began to realize that their friends were quite toxic. You began to formulate some reasonings and diagnoses for their ailment, just preparing yourself for the appointment but you knew you would keep an open mind throughout the appointment. You looked at the time and realized your patient would be here soon. You got yourself and your patient some water and sat down in your chair awaiting their arrival. 

~I know, You know~

You breathed deeply, leaning back in your desk chair. You moved your hands up to your eyes, giving them a good rub before sitting back up and packing up all your belongings. Today had been a long day. Simple enough, however, one of your returning patients came in with some new drama as she loved to describe it. You probably knew more about this girl's life than her parents at this point and you were happy about it. You were glad you could be the safety net that she needed. However, you knew now that you needed a drink. You shut off the lights and locked the door behind you, heading to your car and going to the closest bar you knew of. 

~They just don’t have any proof~

The problem about being a girl in California in a bar all by yourself is being a girl in a bar all by yourself. Unfortunately, the state you're in doesn't change much of anything. You sat alone at the bar, you took an end seat, and the only seat open next to you would cram someone up against the wall. You thought that might keep people away but unfortunately, it didn't. Fortunately, however, today was Friday, which meant you could relax and decompress from the week you just had. 

Another man tried to move into the seat next to you. You had been observing him across the bar and knew he'd try something. About 4-5 drinks in and his buddies kept pointing at you too. You looked at him and gave him a small smile. “Sorry pal, seats taken,” that's been your excuse most of the night, playing up that you're waiting for a friend or a date to stop by. 

“We've been here the whole time you have, and no one's shown up yet,” the man slurred through his words and started to get close to you. You reached for your drink and covered the top of it, not risking anything. 

“I might've gotten stood up but I'm willing to wait. Again, seats taken sir, please go back to your friends.” 

“Ah come on, I bet I can show you a better time than the chump you were meeting,” his hand started to caress the back of your arm. You frowned and looked at his hand. 

“If you don't stop touching me right now you will regret it.” Your tone was strict and your glare was firm. He took a step closer to you and his breath reeked of alcohol. 

“Oh yeah? How am I gonna regret it?”

“I suggest you leave her alone right now pal,” a very authoritarian voice echoed in your ears and you looked behind the man to see a taller man, with salt and pepper short hair and piercing blue eyes. He took your breath away but you stayed focused on the interaction. The man turned around and his whole body language changed when he had to look up to see your savior (hopefully). 

“What's it to you, buddy?" The drunk man tried to sound tough, but it didn't work out. 

“The fact that she's so uncomfortable with you around that she has to cover her drink. Leave her alone before I get the cops involved. I have ties to the SBPD.” The drunk man nodded and walked away quickly, seemingly spooked by something the man showed him. 

“Thank you for that, it's been happening all night but he's definitely been the most persistent one.”

“It's not a problem,” the man said, his blue eyes sparked when he saw you fully for the first time and he smiled at you. You smiled back and offered him the seat next to you. 

“I've been saving this for someone, at least that's what I've been telling everyone else. It's yours since you saved me.”

“Well thank you,” the man started and you signaled for him to stop for a second.

“I'll fit better over there since it's so close to the wall. Plus I think I'll be leaving soon so might as well give you the good seat,” you got up and switched and he sat down next to you. 

“Well thank you for the seat,” he smiled and waved the bartender down for a drink. You nodded and smiled and continued to sip on your drink. You spun around in your chair to face the crowd around you, watching everyone as they interacted. “Do you just come here to people-watch?” Your savior asked as he turned to watch you. 

“I'm a sense,” you laughed a little and turned more toward him. “My dad actually is a retired detective for the SBPD, and he was crazy about making sure my brother and I were super observant. Like crazy observant. My brother is definitely better at it than I am though.”

“Interesting,” the man hummed and looked out to the crowd with you. 

“I am also a licensed psychiatrist, so noticing things about people is kind of my job,” you laughed and the man chuckled next to you. 

“It's kind of my job too,” he said quietly and you turned to him, taking in his appearance. Suit pants, suit jacket, long sleeve button-up shirt. You noticed his shirt was unbuttoned a little bit, showing off some of his chest hair. You could tell he was wearing a tie all day, there was slight redness to his neck from the pressure of it. 

“You're a cop, aren't you?” You said quietly and he looked at you, kind of surprised. “No offense officer, but you're still dressed like a cop, and you have a certain tension to you that cops carry. I saw it all the time with my dad.” He looked down at himself and smirked at you. 

“I can tell you're pretty good at what you do,” he smiled and reached his hand out to you. “Carlton Lassiter, I'm the head detective with SBPD,” you took his hand and shook it. 

“Ooo a head detective, now that's impressive. I'm (Y/n) (L/n),” you took your mom's maiden name after the separation, although she remained a Spencer. Not sure why, but you two never really talked about it. A part of you knew too, that you'd come back to Santa Barbara, and you wanted to make sure to make a name for yourself without Spencer being attached to it.

“A lovely name,” you noticed Carlton swallowed hard, his eyes shifting as if gauging the situation and conversation.

“You're too kind, detective,” you winked and he smiled a little. “Listen, Carlton, I've gotta be honest with you,” you paused and his eyes changed, showing uncertainty, “I just feel like I need to tell you that I'm not a one night stand kind of gal, so I really don't wanna get your hopes up.” Carlton seemed to sign, or let out a breath he was holding.

“I'm fine with that, more than fine with that actually,” he almost said too excitedly.

“That’s a relief,” you laughed and relaxed a little with Carlton. “So, had any good cases lately?”

“I have,” he smiled and adjusted himself slightly, “We just had a case where the victim was murdered with the smallest dose of snake venom from Brazil, some crazy doctor was stealing money from the charity organization they were a part of.”

“Oh, you know what, I think my dad told me about that! Was it at that weird secret society lodge?”

“Yeah! Wait how’d your dad know?”

“He may be retired from the SBPD but that does not stop him from following cases very closely,” you laughed and Carlton nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll probably be that way too someday.”

“It’s not a bad thing by any means, at least you can still be in on the action without the risk of serious injury, which is good in old age.” 

“I suppose it is. I’m not sure if I’ll ever retire peacefully” Carlton confessed and you laughed. 

“Sounds an awful lot like my dad. There’s certainly a time and place for it, depends on what position you’re in too. Like if you were the Chief you could work for God knows how long, not a whole lot of field work with that position.”

“The field work is the best part though,” Carlton countered and you shrugged and nodded.

“I don’t disagree, but you gotta choose the lesser of the two evils. Fieldwork that can result in not-so-pleasant outcomes may get injured and have to retire early, or, the position of Chief where you can hide away from the outside evil.”

“You make a good point, I’m not sure if I can ever get Chief. Chief Vick is by far one of the most outstanding Chiefs the SBPD has had in recent years.”

“I’m glad to hear it, a good boss means good work.”

“What about you? How’s your job situation?”

“It's great. But that’s because I’m my own boss,” you added with a smile and Carlton gave you a small smile with an eyebrow raise. “I have my own office where I take clients almost every day. I’m working on getting my clientele back up to where it was back home- I just recently moved back to California from Colorado.”

“What brought you to Colorado?” Carlton inquired.

“My mom primarily. She divorced my dad when I was 13. My older brother was 17 and was being impacted the most by their failing relationship, as my mom so nicely explained to me one day. For some reason they just agreed to split us kids, so my brother stayed here with my dad and I went with my mom,” you sighed and Carlton looked at you with soft eyes. 

“I’m sorry. That doesn’t sound easy.”

“It wasn’t, but looking back on it, it was unfortunately the best option for everyone. My brother was basically an adult so my mom thought he would handle the divorce well. He blamed our dad for the divorce. It was my mom's idea though, she never told my brother that so he just assumed it was my dad.”

“Why haven’t you told your brother?”

“It's a conversation I know him and my mom need to have ya know? If I was the one to tell him, he could lash out and not believe me. I know one day he’ll express to our mom how he resents our dad for it, but that’s for the future,” you sipped your drink and took in Carlton fully. The way he carried himself was attractive. He was very confident and calm throughout your conversation with him and there was slight tension building up between the two of you. You thought back to the conversation and realized the trauma dump you just performed. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Carlton asked, surprised at your sudden change of tone. 

“For the trauma dump, I just gave you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I appreciate it,” Carlton said with a small smile. “It shows you’re comfortable around me already.”

“I guess you’re right. You’re easy to relax around.”

“I guess I should repay the favor?”

“Of trauma dumping?” You laughed and he smiled and shook his head. 

“Not so much of dumping as just sharing more about myself with you.”

“Only if you’re comfortable, Carlton,” you smiled. His eyes lit up and he had a big smile on his face. 

“Surprisingly…I am comfortable. There’s not too much to tell. I became Head Detective of the SBPD in 1996, I’m very good at what I do. I was married, but we’ve been separated for about two years now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Carlton,” you said with a small frown. You reached your arm out and gently squeezed his arm.

“There are times when it sucks more than others. Right now, however, I’m not too upset about it,” Carlton smirked at you and you felt your cheeks heat up at the blatant flirting. You giggled slightly and let go of his arm, turning back to your drink. Carlton was really having an effect on you. You couldn’t remember the last time a grown man made you giggle because he was flirting with you. Carlton watched your cheeks turn bright red and continued to stare as the redness traveled up to the tops of your ears. He was mesmerized by you. A cute, amazingly single woman who was honest and attracted to him. You were young, he could tell. It made him a little nervous, himself being 40. He was nervous because of his age but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you, in case it scared you off. It wasn’t fair to you, he realized that, but he couldn’t help it. Your phone ringing pulled Carlton out of his trance and he watched as you quickly answered the call, muttering an apology to him. 

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked quickly. Carlton attempted to distract himself with patrons around the bar so he didn’t listen in to your conversation. “Really? Oh gosh okay. Yeah of course. I’ll be on my way,” you said with panic in your voice. Carlton immediately felt disappointed when you said you would be on your way. He turned back to you, and you were looking in his eyes immediately. He stopped breathing for a second, taking in your eyes and how vibrantly your emotions showed through them. 

“Everything ok?” “I’m so sorry Carlton, I have to leave. My brother just called and said something happened to his best friend, who in turn is also like a brother to me.”

“It's not a problem, this is obviously very important.”

“Here,” you said rifling your bag and digging out a piece of paper. You scribbled down your phone number and gave it to Carlton, making sure he had a good grip on the paper. “Call me tomorrow. Or- well, whenever you’re free, call me. I know a detective's schedule can be hard to work with. I’d love to see you again,” you smiled and tipped the bartender, grabbing your belongings and standing up. You looked at Carlton and could see the sadness on his face. You hopped a little in your place before quickly pressing a kiss to Carlton’s cheek. His face flushed red and you smiled. “Please, call me,” you said and started to head for the door. 

“I will,” Carlton called out to you as you turned around and gave him a big smile, before waving and walking out the door. Carlton wasted no time in adding your number to his contacts on his phone. He was absolutely going to call you. 

Chapter 3.

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

Taglist:

@capitanostella

[yanderes-galore]

HELLOOOO looks at your top five fandoms and blinks my big eyes. could you write something up for helob (cotl) w a darling he had captured and was at first intending to eat/sell off?

Sure! It may not be long but... I can throw out some ideas for you :)?

Yandere! Helob with a Captured! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Consumption, Biting, Blood, Violence, Gore mentioned, Possessive behavior, Dark themes, Mentions of selling people (?), GRAPHIC descriptions, Forced "relationship".

This is yet another situation where, no matter what happens, the obsession doesn't win.

The moment you were plucked from your home, your fate was sealed.

Your meeting with the spider isn't amicable.

You're left alone in your realm, be that Darkwood, Anura, Anchordeep, or Silk Cradle...

However, there's always threats with wandering alone.

Monsters of all kinds roam the realms of The Old Faith.

Be that mindless creatures... foxes... or spiders...

The moment you take a misstep, you're caught in a web.

One of the many webs Helob has set up.

Helob's original thoughts about you are as you think.

A pathetic little creature who wandered too far from home...

Cute weak little prey.

The moment you were caught in his web, Helob couldn't help but feel hungry.

He could sell you... or he could eat you outright.

The taste of your flesh was so tempting.

Although... Helob may even have other plans for you.

Maybe you catch his eye, or maybe he just ate?

Either way, your life gets to be "spared" for a little while.

"This one's so cute... I want to save them for later...!"

The entire obsession places you on borrowed time.

Helob's simply keeping you around because you entertain him.

Perhaps he won't get rid of you, no, he wants to keep you in his home.

You look so adorable covered in his webs.

Helob often talks to you after he has his meals, the spider chatting away with his new prisoner companion.

He really shouldn't play with his food, but with you he can't help himself.

You're so cute he could just eat you up... yet he won't... for now.

He'll have restraint because you interest him so much.

The food you're given is usually stuff you can stomach.

Helob knows you can't eat what he eats... so he finds berries and other foods you can.

After all, he can't have you looking all skinny and gaunt....

Helob wants you to have some meat on your bones... delicious meat that he just wants to taste.

Helob's "romantic" feelings and the craving he has for your flesh is a very blurred line.

He feels maybe he loves you, a cute little partner he took in for himself.

At the same time... he wants to dig his fangs into your flesh.

You're his prey... he makes such a thing obvious when he tells other paying customers you're not for sale.

Even that Lamb that keeps showing up is turned down, Helob can't bear the idea of parting with you.

Eventually, perhaps weeks or months into your capture, Helob can't help but give in.

He's hungry... he desires you... he just wants a little taste.

The moment he sinks his fangs into your flesh... The taste is euphoric.

Your blood spills into his mouth and he can't help but think he's the only one who deserves such a taste.

You're all his... all of you... including your delicious taste.

Helob knows he should savor you, keep you around as a little treat, but once he starts...

Ohhh... He doesn't want to stop.

You cry and scream into the silk gag he made for you as he digs into your taste.

He chews bits of flesh, tears through flesh, and drinks your blood like it's ambrosia.

By the time he's done, there's barely any left.

Your cries stopped a long time ago, the taste of you still on his tongue.

He's upset afterwards... He had really enjoyed you, really loved you...

But now you sat heavily in his stomach, the feeling sickeningly pleasant.

Helob wishes he could experience such a thing again and again... He desires it!

Yet now, no one else can have you...

You know what they say about spiders...

They have a tendency to eat their mates.

[nekoannie-chan]

Confession

Title: Confession.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 385 words.

Square: 1 “Admitting a crush”.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve confesses his feelings.

Major Tags: Fluff.

Additional tags: My entry for the @fandom-free-bingo Maritime May Edition.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish, so I wanna improve my writing skills in English. Please let me know if you notice any mistakes, and I will correct them.

I don’t grant permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or in other languages (I translate my work) or for the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this). I created them exclusively for my fics; please respect my work and refrain from stealing it. Some people here make dividers that anyone can use; mine is not this type, so please look for the other people's dividers. The only exceptions are those I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber

Brooklyn, 1942

The tinkling of store bells opening and closing their doors and the unmistakable aroma of freshly baked bread escaping from the corner bakery. It was a quiet afternoon, and you were walking alongside Steve Rogers.

He was walking a little slower than you, as usual. Not because he couldn't keep up with you, but because he seemed to be deep in his thoughts. Steve had always been quiet, but today, you noticed him differently. More nervous.

“Steve? “you called out to him, tilting your head to get a better look at him.

He blinked as if he had just come out of a trance and looked at you with a shy smile.

“Hmm?”

“You're distracted. Something on your mind?”

Steve cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. His posture was always a little hunched over, as if he was trying to take up less space.

“No...well, yes," he finally said, averting his eyes to the ground as they walked.

“Come on, Rogers. Let it go," you said with a smile, trying to lighten the tension.

He let out a nervous laugh and looked straight ahead as if summoning all the courage in the world to speak.

“It's just that..." he paused, took a breath and then shook his head. “Forget it, it's nothing.”

Oh, no. Now you really needed to know what was wrong.

You stopped dead in your tracks, grabbing his wrist to force him to do the same. Steve stood still, startled by the sudden closeness, and his eyes met yours.

“Steve," you said, but without letting go. “If it were 'nothing', you wouldn't be this nervous.”

He swallowed.

“I just... I don't want to ruin anything.”

You frowned.

“Ruin what?”

Steve sighed deeply, and instead of answering immediately, he looked away toward the street, as if looking for a way out. But there wasn't one.

Finally, after a long silence, he muttered so low you almost didn't hear him:

“I have a...”

“A what?”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment as if he wanted the earth to swallow him up. Then, with a resigned sigh, he dared to look at you again.

“I like you," he confessed, this time more firmly. “I’m in love with you for a long time.”

The world seemed to stop for a moment.

[redpanda5442]

Mega Man franchise (near) complete anniversary calendar

Since I couldn't find this anywhere else online (Seriously! Why doesn't this exist!), here's a mostly complete collection of the release dates of every single megaman franchise game and some extras. I've tried to keep it to one line per game where feasible but this has led to some abbreviations such as "PS1" instead of "Playstation".

This calendar will always count the earliest release region and platform and for dual release games I've not included the subtitles as some of the listings would get very long.

Mega Man Battle network legacy collections 1&2 both released for PS4 but since they are digital only, this effectively acts as being released for both PS4 AND 5 so I listed 5 as I feel it's the more relevant choice.

If I've missed any games please comment to let me know :D (or if I've made any mistakes! I've already fixed some things based on feedback!), I was going to include all the manga series too as those particularly interested me but it was too difficult to track them all down with dates so I haven't bothered but I can always come back in future to edit this, if anyone knows about them: please send me a DM!. I may also add the Mega Man complete works artbooks at some point too, but I can't be bothered researching that rn. If you REALLY want them on the timeline, comment or DM.

If any wiki resource or anything wants to use this feel free but please for the love of god fact check it please, as I write this sentence it is 1am and I very may well have written something wrong or used a source that has incorrect information.

If anyone wants this formatted like a regular hangup calendar, let me know and I'll consult the graphic design department (Don't worry @faustisgettingviolent I'm not talking about you)

*I speculate this one was released around October 21st 1994 due to the fact that it came very near the release of Mega Man The Wily Wars. As both games acted as a sort of campaign to introduce sega players to Mega Man it's likely they were intended to release around the same time, however the wily wars never saw a physical American release. If anyone has a source for the game gear games original release date please do let me know.

Comment if you share a birthday with a piece of Mega Man media.

January

10th - Mega Man X Collection (NA/2006/GameCube, Playstation 2)

15th - Wily & Right no RockBoard: That's Paradise (Japan/1993/Famicom)

February

17th - Mega Man Soccer (Japan/1994/SNES)

25th - Mega Man Zero/ZX Legacy Collection (EU, NA/2020/Switch, PS4, Xbox 1, Windows)

March

1st - Mega Man 10 (NA/2010/Wii)

2nd - Mega Man Powered Up (Japan/2006/PSP)

6th - Mega Man Network Transmission (Japan/2003/GameCube)

20th - Mega Man Battle & Chase (Japan/1997/Playstation)

21st - Mega Man Battle Network (Japan/2001/GBA)

23rd - Mega Man Zero: The Animation [Promotional short film] (Japan/2005/DVD)

24th - Mega Man 7 (Japan/1995/SNES)

April

14th - Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection (WW/2023/Switch, PS5, Windows)

14th - Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection 2 (WW/2023/Switch, PS5, Windows)

20th - Mega Man Legends 2 (Japan/2000/PS1)

21st - Mega Man Zero 4 (Japan/2005/GBA)

23rd - Mega Man Zero 3 (Japan/2004/GBA)

24th - Mega Man & Bass (Japan/1998/SNES)

26th - Mega Man Zero (Japan/2002/GBA)

May

2nd - Mega Man Zero 2 (Japan/2003/GBA)

June

22nd - Mega Man Anniversary collection (NA/2004/GameCube, Playstation 2)

25th - Super Adventure Rockman (Japan/1998/Playstation, Sega Saturn)

July

6th - Mega Man ZX (Japan/2006/DS)

10th - Mega Man 2: The Power Fighters (Japan/1996/Arcade)

12th - Mega Man ZX Advent (Japan/2007/DS)

17th - Mega Man X7 (Japan/2003/Playstation 2)

19th - Mega Man Xtreme 2 (Japan/2001/GBC)

22nd - Mega Man V (Japan/1994/Gameboy)

22nd -The Misadventures of Tron Bonne (Japan/1999/PlayStation)

24th - Mega Man X Legacy Collection (EU, NA/2018/Switch, PS4, Xbox 1, Windows)

24th - Mega Man X Legacy Collection 2 (EU, NA/2018/Switch, PS4, Xbox 1, Windows)

26th - Mega Man: Dr. Wily's Revenge (Japan/1991/Gameboy)

29th - Mega Man X: Command Mission (Japan/2004/Playstation 2, GameCube)

August

1st - Mega Man X4 (Japan/1997/PS1, Sega Saturn)

5th - Rockman & Forte: Mirai Kara no Chōsensha (Japan/1999/Wonderswan)

5th - Mega Man: Fully Charged [Animated Series] (NA/2018/TV)

8th - Mega Man Legacy Collection 2 (WW/2017/Switch, PS4, Xbox one, Windows)

8th - Mega Man Battle Chip Challenge (Japan/2003/GBA, Wonderswan colour)

25th - Mega Man Legacy Collection (WW/2015/Xbox one, PS4, Windows)

September

15th - Mega Man [Animated series] (NA/1994/TV)

22nd - Mega Man 9 (NA/2008/Wii)

27th - Mega Man: The Animated Series [Animated series] (NA/1997/TV)

28th - Mega Man 3 (Japan/1990/NES)

October

2nd - Mega Man 11 (All/2018/PC,PS4,XBX1,NS)

7th - Rockman EXE Legend of Network (Japan/2006/Mobile)

20th - Mega Man Xtreme (Japan/2000/GBC)

21st - Mega Man: The Wily Wars (Japan/1994/Megadrive)

29th - Mega Man IV (Japan/1993/Gameboy)

November

5th - Mega Man 6 (Japan/1993/NES)

12th - Rockman EXE Operate Shooting Star (Japan/2009/DS)

13th - Mega Man Star Force 3 (Japan/2008/DS)

22nd - Mega Man Star Force 2 (Japan/2007/DS)

23rd - Mega Man Battle Network 6 (Japan/2005/GBA)

25th - Mega Man: The Power Battle (Japan/1995/Arcade)

29th - Mega Man X6 (Japan/2001/Playstation)

30th - Mega Man X5 (Japan/2000/Playstation)

December

1st - Mega Man X3 (Japan/1995/SNES)

4th - Mega Man 5 (Japan/1992/NES)

6th - Mega Man 4 (Japan/1991/NES)

6th - Mega Man Battle Network 3 (Japan/2002/GBA)

7th - Mega Man X8 (NA/2004/Playstation 2)

9th - Mega Man Battle Network 5 (Japan/2004/GBA)

11th - Mega Man III (Japan/1992/Gameboy)

12th - Mega Man Battle Network 4 (Japan/2003/GBA)

14th - Mega Man Battle Network 2 (Japan/2001/GBA)

14th - Mega Man Star Force (Japan/2006/DS)

15th - Mega Man Maverick Hunter X (Japan/2005/PSP)

16th - Mega Man X2 (Japan/1994/SNES)

17th - Mega Man (Japan/1987/NES)

17th - Mega Man X (Japan/1993/SNES)

17th - Mega Man 8 (Japan/1996/PS1, Sega Saturn)

18th - Mega Man Legends (Japan/1997/PS1)

20th - Mega Man II (Japan/1991/Gameboy)

24th - Mega Man 2 (Japan/1988/NES)

Exact date unknown (I couldn't find it 💀)

Mega Man (NA/1990/DOS)

Mega Man 3: The Robots Are Revolting (NA/1993/DOS)

Mega Man [Animated Film] (Japan/1999/Direct to video)

October - Mega Man (NA/1994 OR 1995, sources vary/Game Gear)*

Panic Shot! Rockman (Japan/1992/Pinball machine)

[ellieluvr420]

Eye for an Eye Pt.6

MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!

SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.

MDNI smut!!!!

I want to quickly stress that this is a darker fic and there will be a lot of darker, possibly triggering themes to do with mental health throughout so take that as a warning. I likely won't do warnings for each part because part of this fic for me is that you don't know what's going to happen until you read it so please do not read if you find graphic descriptions of mental illness and topics surrounding that triggering (this includes suicide, be warned). But if you do read, thank you so much, this story is really important to me and I appreciate any interaction whatsoever!

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧    

The only sound you could hear on your walk back to the stadium from the theatre was your heartbeat thumping in your ears, your entire body was throbbing and tingling, you had just told Ellie everything, the sense of doom slowly caging you in like dark clouds do to signal a storm is on its way. You should be grateful really, no screams and moans of infected, no humvees coming to search for the missing traitor, but you’d take anything over this mind-bending silence. There’s nothing to ground you, nothing to keep you in reality. You try and keep yourself calm but you’re on your own, there was no one keeping you in check, no one to remind that you exist and that you’re alive, just you and the Seattle roads that rain was bouncing off the surface of. 

When did it start to rain? 

You hadn’t noticed the torrential onslaught, soaking you to the bone, sending painful chills through your body, you hadn’t noticed the way it dropped off your eyelashes and ran down your cheeks, maybe that same path had been numbed from all the tears you had shed. 

I don’t remember turning down here. Why did I turn down here? Fuck. 

Alarm bells sounded in your mind as you backtracked to the main road, you just needed to make it to the stadium, you tried to breathe, shaky inhales and exhales racking your body, inflating and deflating your chest. Your thoughts swam and collided together, shrieking and crying, you just needed to get back to the stadium. 

Five things I can see 

Rain, an overturned car, a tree, my hands, the stadium. Okay not long now. 

Four things I can hear 

My heartbeat, my breathing, the rain, a runner crying. Oh that’s... comforting. 

Three things I can touch 

My jeans, my hair, the ground. I don’t remember falling over, fuck my knee hurts. Focus. 

Two things I can smell 

Blood, and the rain. I think I’ve said the rain too much. 

One thing I can taste 

Abby’s lips. Fuck, when the fuck did I get back here? I’m kissing her. 

Your eyes snapped open as you jumped away from Abby’s sleeping form, you had pecked her but you had no idea how long you’ve been here, you’re in pyjamas and there’s no blood on you so you must’ve showered but the last thing you remember is smelling the rain mixing with the moss and grass that had overtaken the city and now you were laying in Abby’s bed, kissing her sweet lips that had tormented you with their silence for all too long. You forced yourself back into the bed and pressed your hands over your lips to muffle the sobs that you could no longer control. You could barely breathe, panic taking you in its grasp and caressing your skin, setting it on fire as you tried desperately not to wake your sleeping girlfriend. 

You had no idea how long you’ve cried but when you finally work up the courage to spare a glance over your shoulder, Abby is sleeping peacefully beside you, you brush a stray hair from her face and will yourself to go to sleep, to forget for just awhile the nightmare that encompasses you in consciousness. 

The exhaustion took over and eventually you succumbed to a restless sleep, only then did Abby crack her eyes open and peer over at you with a confused look. She had stirred as you entered the room but she was still too tired to move, she felt your lips press to hers and as soon as they were there, they were gone as you ripped yourself away, gasping and sobbing until you slept. She had woken up once before and noted your absence from the room but that had to have been hours ago so hearing you come back only confused her more, she was going to ask but the way you had reacted to kissing her stopped her dead in her tracks and now she lay awake contemplating whether she should ask or if she’d just end up pushing you further away. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧    

Abby sat with Manny in the canteen, she had left you asleep in the room in need of some space to clear her head, she had been so in her head recently with the deaths of her friends that she was starting to wonder if she had imagined you going back to normal around her, that she had dreamt it up to provide some solace but that didn’t feel right. She needed reassurance and she felt wrong asking for it from you. 

“Manny, does she seem okay to you?” 

“Hm? Oh, well you two seem fine, you know she isn’t really talking to the group again yet but from what I’ve seen you look the gross lovebirds you were before. Why do you ask?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just been a lot and I think I said something the other day when she was comforting me about... you know.” Neither of them could bare to say their late friends' names. “I’m scared she’s gonna pull away from me again.” Manny opened his mouth to reply but a shadow looming over the table stopping him. 

“Hey Melon, you okay?” Manny greeted her with a smile that she was yet to return. There were bags under her eyes and a permanent frown etched into her features. Her eyes were glassy and bloodshot and only made Abby’s nerves spike. 

“I need you guys to follow me.” She doesn’t wait, she just starts walking, leaving Abby and Manny to share dumbfounded looks as they followed in silence. “I’m not supposed to be showing you this so you cannot tell anyone.” Her voice was foreboding as she led them down to the morgue, rows upon rows of body bags, the stench was suffocating as they all coughed into their arms. 

“Why are we down here Mel?” Abby said still covering her mouth and nose with her sleeve. 

“I’m really sorry guys.” She unzipped the bag to show them Nora’s mangled corpse, it was hard to even tell it was a person at first, but the look in Mel’s eyes left no room for denial. 

“Oh my god.” Manny breathed as he gagged. 

Abby could barely feel her feet on the ground, her vision blurred and her ears rang, she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs as the world span and she stumbled out of the room that felt like it was collapsing in on her. She just kept walking and walking until she had no idea what quiet corridor she had stumbled into and collapsed against the wall, the tears fell and fell, waves cascading from her eyes, swelling her lips and making it hard to breathe, she felt sick as she clutched onto her stomach and tried to force her brain to calm before she had a full blown panic attack. She tried to focus on anything other than Nora’s lifeless body, her patrol schedules, the routes, you, your strange behaviour last night... Where had you gone last night? Something twisted in her gut and she was moving quicker and quicker towards Rocky’s office. She needed to see the patrol assignments. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧  

“Hey babe!” Your voice called throughout Abby’s room as you heard the door open and close. She watched as you emerged from the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around you, slinking over to her with a dark look in your eyes. “You weren’t here when I woke up, was gonna come look for you in a second.” Abby went to speak but she was frozen as you looped your arms around her neck and pulled her into an earth-shattering kiss. All her focus went to your lips caressing hers, the feel of your tongue lapping at hers, the way your body pressed itself into every ounce of space between you until there was none left. Her arms hooked round your waist as she sighed into the kiss, completely transfixed by you. 

Her brows furrowed as one of your hands left its place around her neck and shuffled between your bodies but her eyes snapped open at the sound of your towel dropping, leaving you completely bare in front of her hungry eyes that devoured you more with every second.  

“Strip.” Your voice was sultry, dark, it only drew her in further as she complied with your command, each step she took closer to you as she tried to rid herself of her clothing, you took a step back with a giggle. She frowned and rushed more, almost tripping over as she kicked her cargos off. She lunged at you and you let her sweep you off your feet, wrapping your legs round her waist and squeezing. She caught your lips in a fiery kiss once again, a hand coming to rest on the back of your head as she walked you down the steps of her room towards her bed, she felt your fingers snake around her neck and squeeze enough to make blood rush in her head, eliciting a guttural groan from deep inside her. 

It was a mess of breathy moans into each other’s lips, the clashing of teeth and tongue, the grabbing and clawing, the marking of soft skin, it was all the pent-up emotions releasing and floating into the space around you. For Abby, this was comfort, this was a reconciliation, one that she desperately needed. For you, it was a distraction, from Ellie, from all that you had done, for you, it was a goodbye.  

She lowered you down onto her bed, immediately climbing on top of you and pressing a thigh to your cunt as you lifted yours that was sandwiched between her thighs to press against her core. A symphony of gasps and groans filled the room as you each felt the friction igniting sparks within you. Abby bit down on your bottom lip as you gripped her hair at her scalp and yanked.  

“Fuck I needed this so bad, I love you babe, I’ve missed you.” Abby’s voice was a distant echo in the furthest corner of your brain as you chased your high, each grinding in motion with each other as your body’s tangled closer and closer together. You caught her lips in a fiery kiss so you didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to tell her you loved her back, that lie might break your subconscious altogether. You moaned into her mouth letting her muffle your sounds as you both inched towards your release. 

Your bodies tensed and spasmed as all your nerves felt like they were on fire and with a couple harsh thrusts of your clit against her toned thigh, the muscles rippling under the skin, you came undone, arching your back and clawing at hers as a string of profanities fell from your lips. Abby followed almost immediately after with a whimper before her body relaxed and she collapsed all of her weight on you. 

It had been rushed and passionate but all it did was confirm the loss of your feelings for her. Her fingers squeezing at your waist felt like knives, her breath on your chest felt ice cold and her weight on your body could have been a boulder crushing and suffocating you. All of the things you had loved about sex with her, loved about after sex with her, only made you hate her more. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧    

The day was quiet, you and Abby lounging together as Abby reads while you listen to endless records, music had always grounded you, given you something to focus on. 

“What are you reading?” You pressed. It was getting easier to act normal around her, it was easier to pretend when you knew it would be over soon. Good memories, that’s all you wanted to think about until you both laid to rest. 

“Medea, it’s a Greek tragedy. This wife goes kinda crazy because her husband ditched her for a younger woman. It’s a lot but it’s really good.” 

“You’re such a nerd.” She gasps and clutches her chest in feigned hurt. “Hey I never said it was a bad thing.” You both laughed and though there was a sadness in her eyes though she seemed normal with you, everything was going to plan. 

The day went on like this until you both turned in for the night as you and Abby both had patrol the next morning. You fell asleep with Abby’s arm over your waist as her back was pressed to your front. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧    

You were in the theatre, standing on the stage, silence enveloping the large room until hands came to wrap around your waist and a sharp chin found its place on your shoulder as the figure swayed you while pressing soft kisses to your neck. 

“I missed you.” They hummed into your skin. 

“I missed you too Ellie.” She spun you to face her and the smile creeping across her features was ethereal, a smile you wished you could see more of. Her lips were soft and warm as you each lowered yourselves to the ground, her pressing her weight into you as you wrapped your legs around her waist. The kiss was slow and sweet, an exploration, until she pulled away and it was no longer Ellie gazing down at you lovingly, it was Abby glaring at you with a fire in your eyes. 

“How could you do this to me?” She growled and you were frozen, completely paralysed with fear. “I fucking loved you, you traitorous bitch, I’ll kill you for what you’ve done.” Her voice was now a scream as her hands wrapped around your throat and squeezed. She looked into your eyes and smiled as you felt her adjust her grip and within seconds you felt your neck shatter to pieces as she broke it like she would a twig, your body went numb and your surroundings faded to nothing. 

“Babe, wake up! You’re having a nightmare.” You could hear screaming, distant and quiet as hands shook you until your eyes flew open. “Hey it wasn’t real, it was a dream, you’re okay, you’re safe.” Abby’s calm voice sounded above you as you felt her arms wrap you in their grip, tears beginning to fall as what you had dreamt of dawned on you. 

I just need this feeling to end. 

“What happened babe?” Her sweet voice tickled your forehead where her lips rested. 

“I can’t even remember, fuck, thanks for waking me up.” The lie slipped out so easily, it was getting too easy to lie. You sniffled and cuddled into her desperately trying to push the dream out of your mind and make your lie the truth.  

a/n: Hi sorry for the hiatus but I am back and friends never pt23 is on its way also, I kinda hate this chapter and I'm sorry it's shorter but it's a bit of a filler chapter to move the story along so I apologise, hope you enjoyed anyway and see you in the next one!

tags: @emiliabby @liasxeatt @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @tphmnv @a-little-bit-of-everybody @chrry1ovr @bready101 @euphternal @elliestwofingers @angelsrotation @drippyop

[my-name-is-apollo]

Hello :3

I'm working in a little proyect… A comic (more like a graphic novel) of Artemis and Apollo stories, but i'm struggling with Apollo's lovers chronology 🫠

I will discard Daphne… I know if we took Ovid, she was his first love crush, but 1) She wasn't a lover, so… not a first love of Apollo :P And i want a romantic first love u.u 2) She is overrated, i want to give some credit to the underrated ones.

Then whe have Admetus, if we took the punishment for killing Python, but according to that, the Apollo's lover was Hymenaeus/Thessalian Hyacinthus… And i prefer the Spartan Hyacinthus and the version of Admetus servitude after killing the Cyclops.

There is Cyrene too… Apollo talking to Chiron about Cyrene was like a teenager falling in love, and could be his first enamourment. Also because he goes to Chiron to some advices. He wasn't sure about how to talk with Cyrene… Could be a first love.

And Branchus! I did read that Apollo saw him after coming from Delos riding a dolphin and… He was leaving Delos, his birth land, so could be a possibility of Branchus being the first love of Apollo. And Apollo was so smitten in this myth… He was so in love that got distracted and milk a billy goat LMAO That was a teenager in love! This also make me consider the idea of Branchus being his first love and boyfriend <3

I personally like him, but i also would consider Cyrene… And not having a chronology is makes the things hard. I need help… Please be my wise Chiron and give me your advices 🫡🙏

Oooh this one is a tough one!

About Daphne : understandable lol though yeah, I don't think you can exclude her entirely because the laurel tree was very sacred to Apollo and his cults.

Admetus is a bit tricky. On one hand, he is one of the argonauts, and their journey happens nearer to the Trojan war I believe, since Admetus' son participates in the trojan war. Adding to that, Asclepius' sons were also amongst suitors of Helen, and they participated in the war as well. So Apollo's servitude under Admetus for killing the Cyclopes also didn't happen early on in Apollo's life. But on the other hand, there is a version where Apollo had to serve for the act of killing the Python - which in most versions happens when he was a child - so he'd have been a pretty young god when he met Admetus. Adding to that, Hesoid has written the tale of Hermes stealing Apollo's cows when the latter was serving Admetus. The birth of Hermes and the cattle theft couldn't have happened just a few decades before the trojan war imo. So again, although in Hesoid's version Apollo falls in love with Hymenaeus, this version places the servitude fairly early on in Apollo's life. I used to hc is that since Admetus and Alcestis cheated death, they were allowed to live a very long life - this way I don't have to exclude any of the events that include him but happen at different times - but even that doesn't work because you need to fit Pelias (Alcestis' father and Jason's uncle) in the earlier part of the timeline and it just doesn't make sense :') so yeah, Admetus isn't the best choice either imo

Now onto Hymenaeus. I know theoi.com says that he is Thessalian Hyacinthus, but like. That's one interpretation. It's up to you to decide if they were the same person or not. Personally, I don't find the explanation given by theoi.com satisfactory and consider Hymenaeus and Hyacinthus different people. Hymenaeus would be a good choice. Not only is he mentioned by Hesoid, one of the oldest poets, this version also seems to place the event early on in Apollo's life like I've already said.

You can go for Hyacinthus too, especially if you want to ignore Hymenaeus. According to Callimachus, Apollo laid the foundation for Sparta. Given that Hyacinthus belongs to the first few generations of the Spartan royal family (2nd or 3rd) - it's possible that he was Apollo's first lover. Another detail is that, in the Homeric hymn to Demeter, Persephone is said to have been gathering flowers and one of them was hyacinth flowers! According to this, Hyacinthus' death happened even before Persephone married Hades.

Now Cyrene. I don't think she was his first lover. I've always imagined her to be one of the first few loves of Apollo...but if you look at the myths, the ones about their son Aristaeus seems to be set in a time closer to when Dionysus was born/lived on the earth. He is Dionysus' mentor/father figure in one version. He is also, in one version, responsible for the death of Eurydice (and Orpheus was a follower of Dionysus at that point). Aristaeus' son Actaeon is Dionysus' cousin, who was killed for peeping at Artemis. Also when Aristaeus was born, Hermes parades him around so...Cyrene must have happened after Admetus and Hymenaeus at least.

I've never given too much thought on where Branchus would fit tbh. But I looked up a bit more on him and - according to Strabo, Achilles' son Neoptolemus was killed by Machaereus, and Branchus was a descendant of Machaereus. But other than this, the myths I'd read on him don't involve any prominent mythical figures or events. If you wanna ignore Strabo's account, you can make him Apollo's first lover.

Of the lovers that you've mentioned, i think it'd be either Hyacinthus or Hymenaeus. Personally though, I've always imagined one of the Muses (or all of them at the same time? Haha) to be his first lover. It makes sense to me because he was trained under them.

All that said, I cannot pin point who his first lover was. Because we have contradicting versions, some of which you'll probably have to ignore if you want a coherent story. So which ones you want to ignore, I'll leave it up to you. I hope this helps you a bit!

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Would you write a smut fic with ghost x dom reader x soap??(reader can be fem or gn and make both boys submissive maybe a moment where they fuck each other and the reader watches them and controls them).IDK WRITE IT HOWEVER YOU IMAGINE IT. I just dont have the skill to write so i am requesting it here.I hope its not weird.

I got you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Ghost x Dom!Reader x Soap

Ghost and Soap find themselves crushing on the same woman on their team, a friendly bout between two comrades to see who you'll choose, only your answer's not one they'd expected to hear.

NSFW 18+, Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, very little plot, MMF, P in V sex, Tons of Teasing, Steamy Makeouts, Groping, Grinding, Double-Penetration, Anal, Ceampie, Explicit Description, Graphic Language, Dom!Reader, Sub!Soap, Sub!Ghost, Sexual Tension, Some Ghostsoap moments as well, Playful Banter, Bickering, Flirting, Build-Up, Jealousy, Soap and Ghost are fighting over the same girl, but it's friendly competition, ends in a three way too so, will do more proofreading I promise!

WC: 7k ~

Author's Note: This took me way longer to type than it probably should have. I hope it makes for a good read. It's total nonsense, and probably not very realistic (though I do try). It's not exactly like the anon, I'm sorry! But hopefully, it's still good. Please, please, please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading my things!

Masterlist

The front door shut close, leaving the living room just a bit more silent now that its previous company had just departed. You look back towards your remaining two house guests, the smile already unable to stop from forming on your face. You'd been hoping for some alone time with both Ghost and Soap, and it seems fate would smile on you tonight, for now, you had both of them here.

You invited the whole team back over to your place for the weekend, after having just come back from an op with both Price and Gaz, which lasted damn near over a month. The whole thing had been rather uneventful, to say the least; some reconnaissance and leads which went mostly nowhere (well, nowhere for your team; Laswell definitely had a heyday from the sound of things).

With how mind-numbingly dull the whole assignment turned out to be, everyone couldn't be happier to finally sit back and relax with some drinks and good company once back home. All night you spent recapping the events of the mission, including all the monotony which had conspired.

At one point, the most entertainment you could find out there had been both you and Gaz slowly "misplacing" Price's things -- unimportant items that wouldn't do any harm if left unnoticed. You had bets on how long it'd take for him to notice things slowly going missing everyday.

Surprisingly, you nearly got away with it for a whole week, until one morning when he finally questioned the funny look you two had on your faces when he'd been scratching his head, completely perplexed by the absence of his things. Price was in a better mood retelling the story than he had been in the moment.

Eventually, everyone started to disperse as the night went on -- Price got tired and left first, maybe an hour after that Gaz called it a night as well. Once they'd left, you found yourself in your living room with the only two mates you'd been thinking about all day, Ghost and Soap.

Only unbeknownst to both you and each other, both men had deliberately been trying to stick around, having shared the sentiment in wanting some long-awaited alone time with you... except the night keeps getting later, and they both keep giving each other increasingly odd looks, impatiently waiting for the other to leave so they could finally make a move on you.

Both Ghost and Soap have wanted you for a long time now, longer than either men cared to admit. Funnily enough, it was Ghost who'd caught feelings first.

It came to him as randomly as a Tuesday morning. You were just doing what you normally do. However, it had been your mundane actions that somehow drew him in initially. How you go about life with a smile and good attitude, the way you look at him when you found something funny, and the slight lilt to your voice when you talk and get excited. He would feel a lucky man indeed to be yours.

However, Soap had been the one to be more upfront about his interest in you, after developing feelings of his own. The Sergeant's likings to you came suddenly and without warning, but once they'd developed, it couldn't be more obvious that he was down BAD.

More often than not was he finding little excuses to touch you, whether it be a passing hand on the small of your back when squeezing by, or a congratulatory hug after a successful mission. Soap's suave charisma made it easy to do. And with the touching, it was always followed by some sly little line that would have you blushing and pulling at the fabric of your sleeve all shy-like.

He's slowly ramped the flirting up the more time passes, and Ghost knows if he doesn't at least say something now, then it won't be long before Soap takes the chance himself. Tonight had felt a perfect enough opportunity to finally make some waves, though, Soap was fast proving to be a formidable opponent.

"Jeez!" You stretch your hands over your head and yawn dramatically, both men's eyes luring a bit longer than they should have on you as you did so. "I didn't realize how late it was getting."

"Aye, same," Soap lets out a little yawn as well, making himself more comfy on your couch. "You don't mind though, no?"

"Not at all," you say. If only they knew how many nights you've spent letting one of the two men be your idle bedtime fancies into slumber. Wondering what it was they could be doing at that moment in time, and if they'd been thinking of you too. "I missed you guys."

"Aw, we missed you too, lass," Soap smiles at you, before his gaze drops over to Ghost's, who'd begun to glare.

He often forgoes the mask in more domestic environments like this with the team, the others having already seen him before. Though it didn't stop the man from forgetting not to wear his emotions on his face like he still had one on. You thought his eyes were expressive, but little had you all known it was only the tip of the iceberg.

Keeping calm and remaining stoic in combat is one thing, however, anger and disapproval came easy to him, in which case he rivaled for having the worst poker face you'd ever seen.

The Sergeant had taken this fouled expression for disagreement in his statement, even as the look had been for an entirely different reason altogether. Soap merely goes on, "Or, I missed you at least. Ghost might feel differently."

Bastard. Putting him on the spot like this; Ghost almost chuckles, the cheeky fuck. He knew what Soap was trying to do: subtly make himself look better in your eyes so that you choose him over the other.

Had he known better, Ghost would think Soap might actually be aware of the lieutenant's crush on you, by the way he smirked in his direction after saying it. He admits he hadn't expected Soap to partake in such petty games either; then again, this was a first, the two of them liking the same woman like this.

If this is how he plays, then Ghost thought only one thing -- Game on.

"Oh I'm sure you missed me too," you stand up from the couch now, twirling over to face him. "Right, Si'?"

"And then some, love," Ghost says.

Your smile brightens, and the man is ashamed to say that it gives him the warm fuzzies in these late hours. The way the living room lighting curved over your neck had also been a sight worth eliciting something deep within him.

Ghost takes a quick glance over at Soap, catching his less-than-excited reaction to the lieutenant's successful line. He has to remember not to grow too expressive at that moment. Not with you here at least.

You excuse yourself to the restroom shortly after, having paid no mind to the growing tension between your comrades. You'd all but taken the soothing atmosphere with you, leaving instead an awkward aura Ghost and Soap willfully drowned themselves in.

It's Ghost who speaks first, his dark eyes having watched your backside make its way down the hall and round the corner. The more drink he had in him, the less subtle his staring grew. Soap has noticed as much tonight especially.

"It's gettin' rather late." Ghost straightens up in his seat before finishing off his Bourbon and placing it back down on the coffee table. "Damn near one in the a.m. Yet you look proper cozy, mate."

"Aye, I am," Soap says rather proudly, further making his point by getting comfortable on the couch and taking another swig of his tequila. "Been too long since I been 'ere. Was startin' to miss layin' on the ol' thing," he rubs the cushion as though he were petting an old dog.

Ghost leans back in his seat now. "You stay over this late often, then?"

Soap pauses, having to double take that question, until his blue eyes fell on Ghost's brown ones, and he saw clearly what he was asking him.

He asks the man right back, "Do you, mate?"

A cocky little grin forms on the Scotsman's face. Had Ghost not been so wrapped up in you, it might have brought him to a pause there. Soap always did have a nice smile.

Soap didn't have to be a genius to know Ghost liked you though; he goes all but slack-jaw anytime you walk by him. Not to mention it wasn't a common thing for Ghost to be the one sticking around late during a get-together. He's normally the first to call it a night, in fact.

Only tonight, that hadn't been the case for him at all. No, Ghost was as planted in his chair as Soap was; they both might as well have sprouted roots. And they both had enough drink to muster up the right amount of bravado needed to keep this sudden, little interrogation going.

"I asked you first, Johnny," Ghost says, his deep voice laced with something more playfully cunning.

"And I answered you," Soap teases back.

"With a question."

"It's still an answer, no?"

Now Soap was just being deliberately obtuse. Ever since he knew he could do it, Soap's enjoyed pushing the lieutenant's buttons and getting a rile out of him. It's only increased tenfold over the last year, not that Ghost has tried to stop him.

Ghost leans forward now, resting his arms on his knees and furrowing his brow. "A'right, out with it, then," he says. "What's your game 'ere?"

Soap's brow furrows rather facetiously. '"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Don’t play dumb Johnny." The playful tone Ghost once used before has now since cooled, growing darker. "You know wha' I'm askin'."

Soap merely smirks, resting his arm back against the couch. "The same game you're playing, yeah?"

"And what game is that, Johnny?"

Soap can't help but laugh now, growing more and more cocky with each loaded exchange. On a normal day, Ghost might manage to intimidate the Sergeant every so often with his sheer presence, let alone his words. However, when it comes to women, Soap couldn't feel more in his element, especially up against his superior.

"One I'll beat you in."

Now it's Ghost's turn to have a laugh. A subtle thing, trapped beneath the burliness of his chest, though its deep rumble is audible enough, having warmed the Scotsman's cheeks at the sound.

"I doubt that," Ghost says.

"You underestimate my charm L.T."

Soap puckers his lips and kisses the air between the two men mockingly. As much as Ghost tried to hide it, the sight had made the air catch in his throat for a second. It's that usual, competitive nature about the Sergeant that really gets Ghost's blood pumping during these mutual bouts of bickering.

"My last statement still stands," Ghost chuckles. "So what? You thought I'd leave and you two would just go at it then?"

"I wouldn't say it like that," Soap says. "...But I was hoping to have some alone time with her, yes."

"And you figured on waitin' for the rest of us to vacate before making a move..." Ghost shrugs with affirmation. "...Clever man."

"Yeah, well, what about you?" Soap asks. "Clearly we're both still here for the same reason. What's your "game", L.T.?"

"It's not your concern."

Soap groans, sinking back in his seat, though he hadn't been surprised by his response. "Suppose it isn't, then," he says. "It's hers."

"That's right," Ghost agrees. "We can't both have her."

"Can't we?"

Ghost brings his eyes forward to Soap's, having thought his comment been a mere joke. However, once their gazes matched, Ghost could see that his Sergeant was dead serious.

Personally, Soap's never been opposed to the idea of a threesome. He'd even be lying if he said he hadn't fantasized about it from time to time, as boyish as it sounds. Adding Ghost into that equation hadn't tripped him up much in the slightest either; Lord knows the lieutenant would be next on Soap's list if you weren't at the top of it already.

Still, Ghost had a hard time even picturing a scenario where something like that could happen, let alone with all three of you. No doubt the man had been interested in you, and for a while, he'd even felt something for Soap as well, feelings that haven't necessarily gone away.

Something with all three of you would no doubt be perfect, however, it just seemed...

"Let's be real here, Johnny." Ghost leaves it at that.

"Suit yourself," Soap merely shrugs, before a light bulb moment suddenly lets off in his eyes. "How about we bring this to the source then? Hey Y/N!"

"Soap-"

"Oi, calm down, mate," he smiles at him. "No point in beatin' 'round the bush, aye?"

You reemerge from around the corner, having heard their voices vaguely through your door this entire time, but not being able to put full words together. Not without having your ear pressed to the wall. From the "uh-oh" look you had on your face, though, something told the two men you were already preparing for them to say something crazy.

"What's up?"

Soap gives Ghost a final look, waiting to see if the man will protest. However, when he sees that he doesn't speak, Soap grins, turning back to you.

"If you had to pick between Ghost and I, who're you choosin'?"

"Pick for what?" you ask, certainly needing clarification. "For battle?"

Soap bursts out laughing, just now feeling how awkward it was going to be explaining this to you. "No," he says. "Like if you had to pick one of us to... I don't know, go out on a date with, who would you pick?"

You keep smiling at Soap like he's joking, waiting to hear him laugh, but once you see he hasn't budged, you feel your heart begin to race.

Your eyes grow wide, now suddenly embarrassed to have the spotlight on you. "You're seriously asking?"

Soap nods. "I am."

You look over at Ghost now. Surely this was just another one of Soap's antics. "You too?"

Ghost shrugs. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."

You were hoping he wouldn't say that. But, if they were asking, then may God be your witness as you answer them.

Placing a hand to your chin, you pout to yourself and look back and forth between your teammates, sizing both men up for every physical feature they had to offer.

Your mind immediately goes to the gutter, not being able to help it. You've found them both distractingly good-looking ever since you joined the team, and you've more than thought about this before. Just never in comparison. Or out loud.

Soap looks like he'd be fun to play with -- he's eager, energetic, and even better, open-minded. Not to mention he was cocky too; you always liked a man who could talk his shit and back it up. With those big arms of his, he could just box you in against the bed and pin you down good and firm, as he drills into you, cooing that sweet little accent of his in your ear like he would. It made your body tingle just thinking about it.

And then there was Ghost; if there was any voice you wouldn't mind having growled in your ear while being fucked senseless, it was his. Unlike Soap, you just knew you wouldn't get it rough like you would from Ghost. You've lost count of how many times you've caught yourself gawking at him during sparring sessions or while out in the field, watching that bulking mass of muscle of his he called a body, manhandle any and everything in his way. Having him do the same to you in a more intimate sense never failed to make the lower parts of yourself start to throb at the thought.

After giving both men a good, long look, you sigh, letting your arms fall back to your sides.

"I can't choose."

"Ah, don't be shy now, lass," Soap says. "If you're worried about hurtin' our feelings-"

"No it's not that," you cut in. "It's just not an easy choice, you know?"

Ghost raises an eyebrow now. "Oh?"

"Oh, don't act all surprised, Simon."

"You like us both then?" Soap asks cautiously.

"I'd say so." You begin to smirk. "Why? What's going on here?"

The two give each other a look, before Ghost goes to explain things to you.

"We're just trying to figure out which one of us has a shot."

"Figures you should be the deciding vote, seeing as you're the subject of interest, lass."

You imagine you look pretty stupid standing at the center of your living room all wide-eyed like you do, but frankly, this just feels too good to be true. It hadn't been one of them that was supposedly into you, but both of them. If you could do a backflip, you'd do twelve right now, no questions asked.

But before you get head over heels about this, "So you're saying you both want me then?"

"In more ways than one, darlin'," Soap teases.

You glance over at Ghost this time, having taken note of his sudden silence. "You too, Simon?"

He hadn't necessarily been prepared to confess his feelings to you, not like this, and much less in front of an opposing audience. Still, Ghost wouldn't have his own Sergeant show him up so easily. Plus, the way your eyes lured at him this whole time had a chill running down his spine, making it hard to concentrate. So he nods, "That's right."

A devilish smile slowly creeps over your lips.

"Well, can't I just have you both?"

"Aye, that's what I'm sayin'!"

"Problem solved then, right?" You laugh.

"If only," Soap says. "Ghost didn't seem up for it when I brought it up earlier-"

"You puttin' words in my mouth now, Johnny." Ghost cuts in.

"Oh, don't switch up now L.T.-"

"Boys," you cut in before they've started going back in forth again, a playful smile still painting your lips. You were eating this up, if you were being honest. "Relax," you say. "We can... get to the bottom of this, yeah?"

Both your eyes shift over to Ghost, who now sits awkwardly to himself on the couch, hands resting motionless on his large lap.

"Well Simon?" You ask him. "Are you down?"

"I'm not one for sharing, love," Ghost coos at you.

You slowly make your way over to the lieutenant, your eyes looming over him like a panther that's just found its next meal. Ghost feels himself hold his breath, watching as you've paused just in front of him, your back now facing Soap, though you can feel his eyes on your backside, taking in the nice view of you, and feeling himself grow harder in his pants.

This close, having smelt your scent on the way over, and felt the remnants of your breath in the air between you two, Ghost could feel his mind beginning to slip out from itself, heading into dangerous territories.

He could see in your eyes you knew exactly what you were doing too. Exactly what you wanted to do. The ball was in your park, and that made you in charge from this point on. The only thing they needed to do now was listen. And Ghost was sitting at the edge of his seat, waiting to hear you.

"Come on, Si'," you say so playfully. "Don't be greedy."

Ghost merely scoffs, an awkward smile forming. "How can I not?"

As though to then challenge the man, you step even closer, placing yourself right at the brink between his legs, having now rested your dainty hands over his muscular thighs like a ledge to lean on. The man can't even stop himself from letting his hands rest on your hips, your body naturally shifting just a little closer as he's done it. Every little thing you did had him ready to tear you out of your clothes and devour you whole.

No, the man knows he's too greedy for his own good. If he had even the smallest taste of you, he wouldn't want your attention on no one other than him. Howbeit, looking back over towards the Sergeant only made him want to throw that caution out the window.

Soap doesn't see the man staring daggers into him at first; his blue eyes have been glued to your ass since you turned your back to him. For the short second he does glance up at the lieutenant, he grins daringly. Taunting him to go home and tuck tail so he could have you all to himself instead. Make this easier for him tonight.

That's just what Soap wants, Ghost thought. Here the opportunity was now to have you, and he's fumbling it away all because he feels he can't share with Soap. Saying it again in his head like that gets him thinking though. If that's the only hurdle between him and you fucking, then it seemed easy enough to step over.

He won't back down that easily, even if he has to "share" you. If you want him like he wants you, then you'll have him, however way you like, just as he'll have you.

Ghost brings his hands down and lets his fingers graze your ass just enough for the Sergeant to see since he couldn't keep his eyes off you. Sickly enough, he hopes the sight is driving the Scot mad. God knows Ghost feels mad enough himself.

The minute you've felt his touch on you, you hum pleasantly, stepping even closer, so that he could take better hold of your bottom and have your small body caged between his large arms and legs like walls, his face only inches or so from yours.

Ghost could feel himself getting more comfortable with the idea of sharing. At least when he had you to himself like this. Especially with how your hands have begun to leisurely rest over his shoulders now, keeping the man just as close.

"I knew you'd come around," you praise, your words now having the man feeling giddy, ready to take them to further levels.

"Just takes the right convincing," he hums.

"I'm feelin' awfully lonely back 'ere," Soap chimes in, doing the best he could not to sink so low as to start touching himself before being given the OK by you first, wanting to hear the words leave your pretty, little mouth. Even as his cock was already throbbing in his pants for some relief.

You merely chuckle, cocking your head back to look at the Sergeant. "I haven't forgotten about you, don't worry," you coo. "You just be a good little lad and wait a moment, yeah?"

Though he wanted to protest, step over, and take you all for himself, Soap did as you told him to and stayed put, continuing to let his eyes have their way with the parts of your body he's all but only been able to steal quick glances at before. He could only hope his patience would be rewarded; and so long as you keep talking to him like you are now, he'll wait until the sun rises if he has to.

You turn your attention back to Ghost, not having forgotten about his hands which oh so nonchalantly groped the cheeks of your ass, kneading and massaging his fingers into the backs of your thighs. He wanted nothing more than to keep letting his hands roam until they've found the center of you, his mind already playing the short gasps and moans you'd make with his fingers knuckle deep in you.

He knew you'd only make him regret it if he so much as did anything without your say-so first.

You reveled at seeing both men so eager and receptive to listen, given how fast this all went down. Frankly, it's got your head spinning so fast that you feel like you've just been drugged. However, rather than let that adrenaline crumble you down, you instead use it as chaotic fuel to your lustful actions.

You climb onto Ghost's lap like a backward chair, straddling him down with your thighs and rocking yourself against him. As he's felt you grind generously so, a tattered breath escapes his lips. Broken and faint. His expression does all it can do to remain as still as possible, only to fail, as his gaze lowers, bouncing between your eyes and lips.

Having his hands grow a mind of their own, Ghost lets them slide to your back, encouraging you to keep moving against him, which you do gladly, the lust bubbling down your lower half like a chemical reaction.

"Fuck, love," Ghost huffs out. "You're really takin' me for a ride right now, aren't you?"

"Hope you're buckled in," you tease, following it with another smooth sway of your hips, giving the man a deep grind hard enough to leave him breathing heavy.

Just when he's about ready to kiss you, you look back over at Soap, smiling. Your index finger lifts innocently, beckoning the man. "Come along now, big boy," you say.

You don't have to tell him twice.

In a matter of seconds, the man is behind you, towering over you and keeping you now sandwiched between both him and Ghost.

When you see they're both waiting on your next word, you chuckle to yourself, the power now starting to go to your head. To think, you had two of the deadliest men on your team damn near drooling, ready to fuck you. How could you not let it get to your head?

"Well," you give both men a final lurid, look, and say, "I'm waiting."

Soap and Ghost exchange wary looks, suddenly unsure of what to do with themselves now that they had you like this. Evidently, despite you already sitting on the lieutenant's lap, it's Soap who swoops in for the kiss first.

You feel his large hand push past your hair and curve around your jaw, his fingers grazing your neck before he's cocked your head back to give you a proper eye-fucking, before he's leaned down and smacked his mouth against yours, Ghost be damned.

You wiggle on Ghost's lap, your legs tightening over his thighs in an attempt to keep balance as the Sergeant all but swallowed you whole, his hands cupping around your face, keeping you from escaping.

Using the Sergeant as further support, you stretch your arms over your head and let them rest against Soap's shoulders like a warm wall, your hands cupping his face and keeping him just as pulled in, your tongues trading the taste of each other and your body unconsciously rocking over Ghost's crotch, feeling two sets of arousal brim in you from top to bottom.

Having you bouncing over his cock like this was driving Ghost feral, getting off on just the sight of you. Of course, watching you make precise work with Soap's mouth soon had the lieutenant wanting more, growing impatient waiting for the Sergeant to let up.

Ghost instead lets his hands cup over your breast, groping and massaging them generously through your shirt. His mouth finds your neck bare for his teeth, sinking them in lightly each time before he's left a heated kiss in its place, letting his lips travel down your neck until he's felt his tongue graze your collarbone, complimenting the kissing Soap gave you above.

Your mouth may be occupied by the Sergeant's, but your body belonged to the lieutenant, so long as you continued to bounce on top of him like you were.

He lets one hand leave your breast, sliding his fingers and letting them dig against your clothed skin, until it's ducked between your legs, beginning to fumble with the buttons of your pants.

It's here you've parted your mouth from Soap's, the man looking down at your doe-eyed expression, hungering for more. You see the tinge of excitement that lights up in the sky-blue of his eyes as he watches your hands make their way toward his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it from his waist. If Ghost would have his way with you, then you would have yours with Soap.

Ghost has slipped his hand into your pants just as you've sprung Soap's cock free of its trouser, his large member sitting in your palm like a heavy, third limb. Soap can barely enjoy the sight of you holding him so close before you've let your tongue tease over the head of him, sucking lightly at the tip and tasting the remnants of his precum on your tongue.

Soap lets his head cock back pleasurably, groaning out to himself with a smile. "Ah," he groans, "You're too good to me, Bonnie."

Soap lets his hands rest at the side of your head rather brutishly, lightly nudging your mouth further down onto his cock, his abs tensing as he listened to the light gags you let out. Despite his persistence, you kept control of yourself, making sure that your movements had the man locked into your touch. It hadn't helped that your mind was caught in two places right now.

Ghost let his two fingers massage against your clit as though he were tasked with his life to see the job done properly. The tips of his fingers dip between your folds and tease your hole, before letting your slick lubricate him, soon to return rubbing against your bud in ways that made the entire lower half of your body feel sore with lust.

And it hadn't been enough to have his hand down your pants making a ruined mess of you. Ghost's other hand very much continued to pluck and roll at your nipple, having slipped beneath your shirt at some point during the interaction, holding against you as you rocked yourself against his hand, your moans humming over the Sergeant's cock and sending a wave of euphoria down him as well.

With one hand still free, you decide it's time that Ghost enjoys himself as well. He watches your single hand with hungry eyes, slightly shaken and erratic from both his fingering and Soap's cock a mere inch away from hitting the back of your throat, the man's groans of approval like music to your ears. Your hand travels down to his belt and undoes it with ease before you've slipped him free of his jeans as well, your fingers taking in the very shape of him.

Your thumb grazes his dripping tip, letting it slick down his shaft before you've begun to pump at him, feeling the man's body tense at your touch. It makes his fingers against your clit lose their rhythm, but only momentarily.

"Fuckin' hell," he breathes out. "Just like tha', love."

The Sergeant glances down at the lieutenant, catching his dazed eyes locked on your bobbing mouth, taking in a full review of your work on the Sergeant's cock.

He could see it in the man's eyes, he was jealous, envious that he had your mouth all to himself while he had to settle for your hand. Granted your fingers danced about his shaft like an angel in her craft, though even he couldn't resist the allure that was watching your saliva dribble down his subordinate's cock, imagining the warmth of your throat struggling to take his entire length. You've felt his cock throb in your hands just at the thought, his hips faintly chasing your purposefully coy grip on him.

Soap chuckles, not being used to seeing his superior so awestruck and drunk with lust, hearing all sorts of noises and groans from the man he could never have imagined.

"Enjoyin' the show there, L.T.?" Soap teases, quickly following it by readjusting his hand on the side of your face, taking light hold of you to help further steady your already perfect rhythm.

In response, Ghost slips a third finger in you, listening to the carnal noises your cunt made at each thrust of his fingers, watching your mouth twitch over the Sergeant, momentarily struggling to suck him off through the moans that clawed out of you. That gets you to put more attention back on Ghost, your hand taking better hold of his cock and dancing over the large girth of him, keeping a steady motion until you've seen the wave-like rising and falling of his chest.

Through his light panting, Ghost taunts, "Got the best seat in the house, Johnny."

"Oh, is tha' righ', mate?" Soap licks his lips, and lets his eyes drop noticeably down to the lieutenant's cock, watching your single hand continue to pump at him, barely able to hold it all in one hand. It makes the Sergeant let out a teasing groan. "Shall we put it to the test then, L.T.?"

Ghost stares at the Sergeant, hungry for the man just as much as he starved for you.

"Be my guest, Johnny."

Hearing the two go back and forth had you giddy to see what both men had in store for each other. However, it had you just as eager to join in on the fray yourself.

After what felt like an eternity of having your drool dribble itself over the Sergeant's cock, you let your lips part from him, and with your other hand, remove yourself from Ghost as well, giggling at their kicked-puppy-dog expressions.

"I have a better idea," you say. You reach for the bottom of your shirt before pulling it over your head and discarding it at the edge of the couch. Once removed, both men fell on the same page rather quickly.

Soap's hands hastily fumbled at the clasp of your bra, before the fabric has fallen loose and your chest now lay bare for Ghost's full perusal. He hardly any time to truly enjoy it before you've momentarily climbed from him to rid yourself of the rest of your clothing, now standing a dripping, naked beauty of a woman.

Both men could do nothing more but stare, hands subconsciously stroking oneselves at the sight of you.

"Now," you say. "I can't have you both feeling so left out while the other fucks me."

"It would be cruel," Ghost quips gruffly, his eyes having been glued to your chest since he's seen your breast bounce so freely before him.

You step back over to Ghost, retaking your place over his lap and letting his cock rest thick beneath you, your sopping folds hugging warmly over him, sending a shiver down his entire body. You grind slowly, letting your fluids paint him, and wetting yourself good for what you were dying to have.

Ghost leans in, letting his hand rest on the small of your back and his lips caress the shell of your ear. "This is much crueler," he whispers. His hands immediately cupped over your breast again, recapturing the feeling of you and letting his hips lightly rock, chasing every part of you he could.

You lean forward until you've felt his nose brush the tip of yours and his breath tickle your lips.

"Don't get pouty now, Si'," you coo.

"Aye," Soap chimes in. "You're the one goin' first."

You look over at Soap playfully, leaning forward to pull him back in close by the hem of his shirt.

"I already told you two not to be greedy," you let your hand retake hold of him, your fingers curving over his girthy length gently. It shuts him up quickly, coming back in so closely to you both. "You two can share."

"What's your plan then, love?" Ghost asks, already having let his hand dive back down between your legs, gripping over his cock so the tip of his head could tease at your hole, wetness and slick coating you both.

You take your hand and you rub it against yourself, making sure every bit of your parts below had been lubed. You bring that same, dripping hand back up to Soap, before dressing his cock with your warm fluids, massaging the man, and feeling the grooves of his veins against your fingers throb.

"Now be a good little spotter and watch my back," you say playfully, before letting your eyes dip back down to Ghost. "I think the lieutenant's got the front covered."

Soap chuckles to himself, before you've felt his large hands rest gently against your bare shoulders, his callous fingers running down slowly to take a hefty handful of your ass, gripping the cheek tightly. He spreads you roughly, his eyes growing large at the sight of you, already knowing his cock would be more than a tight fit for you and devilishly longing for it.

As you've felt Soap rub his cock between your ass, letting your cheeks hug him, his hand digging possessively into your skin, you feel Ghost's hand lock over your neck, holding you there gently in front of him. That way your eyes could stay on him as his cock continued to gently nudge at your hole, only a single thrust away from finally entering you.

"You sure you can take us both?" Ghost asks.

"Wouldn't want to hurt you, lass," Soap adds in.

You position yourself better over Ghost, ready to retake your seat.

"I can handle myself, boys," you say. "Now, show me who wants it more."

You lower yourself on Ghost's cocks, feeling your folds begin to stretch and the grooves of your walls run by every vein and shape of him. It's too much at first, and he can see it in your wincing face, however, you keep lowering yourself, powering through that initial pain and instead letting that pressure boil in you like nothing you've ever felt before. It was overwhelming, and it had your lips quivering with silent moans already.

Just as you've felt your pussy start to take the full length of him, you've felt Soap tease at your second hole, his cock rubbing playfully at you, the tip dipping in ever so slightly, giving you a completely new feeling altogether. His cock stretches you just as much as Ghost's, both men easing your body to the shape of them all at once, and both waves of pleasure complimenting each other in ways that had your body shaking over them, unable to string words together.

"Fuckin' Christ, you're tight, Bonnie," Soap groans.

"Don't... stop...," you say desperately, wanting to squash any reluctance they may feel. The pleasure your body ached for was just now beginning to reach its peak. "...I can take it."

Once your body adjusted, it hadn't grown long before this slow easing had turned into an organized attack, both men pounding savagely into you.

You sat, nearly sandwiched between two men, your chest pressed against Ghost's as he hugged you to him, his cock bullying into you powerfully, the base of himself smacking against your pussy at each thrust.

In rhythm, Soap rests his chest against your back, planting kisses at your spine each time he's let himself thrust just a bit deeper inside your ass. Your hole gripped his cock so tightly it nearly pulled at him each time he came out, only to crash another orgasm-inducing thrust into you, both him and Ghost going back in forth like well-trained machines.

"That's right lovey, there you go," Ghost praises you, his breath fanning your ear. "You're takin' us so well."

In the midst of both men's vicious pounding, it felt as though every bit of you all had been entangled in some way. Hands clumsily felt, hugged, and tugged at one another, chests heaving and moans forming an opera within your living room.

When your tongue wasn't dipping itself into Ghost's mouth, then you're head was cocked back, having a few more kisses be stolen from you by Soap. At some points even, when you're face was buried in Ghost's chest attempting to muffle your moans, you've felt both men lean in to keep each other company in the meantime, rough lips pressed harshly to one another in a passionate kiss you only wished to mirror once they've parted.

Mouths part just enough to concentrate on breathing, each gasp of air being halted by yet another thrust from both ends of you.

Both men have felt an animal-like fury come out of them at each orgasm they've pulled, feeling your body tighten over their cocks and your limbs shake with pleasure, drool, and tears leaking from you, your mind completely scrambled after eleven straight minutes of this.

It isn't until Ghost has opened his eyes again, finding your face twisted with pleasure, and seeing the Sergeant's love-drunk expression -- eyes half-lidded with lust, biting his lip -- that Ghost feels himself finally at his end.

His fingers claw harshly into your skin, his pace growing punishable. Seeing the lieutenant move so carnally clicked in the sergeant's mind quickly what that had meant, already being at the brink of a climax himself.

You hug yourself over Ghost's shoulders, your body so exhausted you could pass out right now before they've even finished. Even so, you couldn't get enough of this sensation; this could go on for another hour if they wanted it to.

"...I'm ready for it," you moan. "Give it to me..."

Both men's cocks pulsate in you, your holes being filled to the brim with their cum, as it drips from you sloppily once they've pulled themselves out.

With heavy huffs, everyone in the room falls back onto the couch, taking a moment to themselves to regain their air. You still couldn't believe that just happened... that any of this had happened.

"So," Soap pants out, about ready to crash on your couch again. "Which one of us did'ye think wanted you more?"

You give Soap a sly look, baffled he would even ask you that right now. "I don't know."

Author's Note: The behemoth has been slain! I'm NEVER typing a request that is longer than 3k words ever again (this took me almost a month and a half to type due to my schedule). However, I am open to any requests for prompts with the CoD boys, though preferably none that are straight smut (I'm kind of burnt out on it atm :/).

I do hope you enjoyed this, however, and please feel free to leave a comment or any feedback! Thank you again!

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