#i will draw something better for this but i had to get it out before my brain hated it

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 2 to A New Form of Pleasure

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: There is something that happened between you and your superior, something that unlocked a new side to both of you that neither of you knew about, but Simon may not be as keen to accept it as you are. However, after a bit of silence on his part, a late night visit might just fix everything.

Word Count: 6.4 k

Warnings:

Quiet breathing is the only noise left in the room as both of your bare, glistening bodies lay exhausted in bed, wrapped in a euphoric haze as Simon’s hand draws lazy circles up and down your arm. He continues the pattern for several minutes until that high finally starts to subside and clarity comes rolling back in.

Your eyes scan the small room to find the solitary clock along the wall and seeing how late it is you make the decision that it’s time to head back to your own room. The night is waning faster than you thought and now that the problem has been fixed, you both should really get some sleep.

Without a word you crawl your way out from his side and begin the search for your clothes; you won’t make it far across base naked. Simon props himself up against the wall behind the head of his bed, one arm behind him like a headrest as those dark eyes follow you through the room collecting your clothes to get dressed. Strange thoughts are already swirling around in his mind now that it’s clear of his desire, but he keeps those thoughts locked tight behind his closed lips and just enjoys the sight of your body until those silky curves are once again hidden from his sight. 

Your shirt is put on last and with that he too makes it out of bed and tosses on his sweats to walk with you the short distance to the door. “Till next time, yeah?” you say with a light chuckle, delaying the inevitable for a few seconds more so that the heat in your cheeks can die down.

Pulling you back against his warm chest with a strong arm wrapped around your waist, he places another grateful kiss to your lips and the moment you break apart he places his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he whispers in the space between your raw mouths.

“Anytime,” you say with eyes still closed. “Just say the word and I’m here to do this again.” 

He moves back and you shoot him a bright smile as you reach for the door handle before you can talk yourself out of it and just like that you make your way out into the night. His eyes stay on you until he can’t make out your form in the darkness anymore and only then does he head back inside with a question pressing to the forefront of his thoughts.

What the hell has he gotten himself into now?

Days pass in normal fashion, but Simon doesn’t speak a peep about that night; there’s no requests for more encounters, no mentions of how good it was, nothing. You find it odd after all the intensity you had both shared, after the way he had told you how much he really wanted you to make him beg, that all of a sudden it would just be radio silence from him. Perhaps it would just remain a secret that you would share or maybe… maybe he thinks it was a mistake.

Whatever the case you keep it to yourself and things around the base return to the usual standard of monotony that day to day life brings whenever there are no missions scheduled. The only thing that keeps you from over thinking too much is the fact that Simon addresses you as he always has, but you can feel some space between you that hadn’t been there before and it puts a sour taste in your mouth that you can’t seem to shake.

More days pass in this confusing limbo, more nights spent alone in your bed without that thrill of making your superior cum again and now you’re frustrated. It wasn’t just Simon that got opened to something new, you did too and you liked it. Now it’s just over and tonight you’ve just about had it.

“I guess I better just get used to it,” you mutter to yourself as you roll over to turn out the lamp to at least try and get some rest.

You aren’t certain how long you’ve been asleep, but something suddenly breaks you out of your slumber. In your sleepy haze you aren’t entirely sure it’s actually anything until it happens again. Tap, tap, tap. Someone is knocking at your door and it’s getting louder and more frantic. It’s late, much later than having random company would allow and curiosity has you in its grip as you bound out of bed.

“One second,” you call out as you quickly flick on the lamp and blink a few times to adjust to the light.  

Another round of knocks ring out and you grab a jacket you have lying about close by to cover your tank top and panties well enough to greet whoever it is on the other side as it’s clear you won’t be able to get fully dressed; must be urgent the way the person doesn’t even seem to react to your message. Quickly you grab for the handle and turn the knob, ready to find out what’s so pressing that you would be disturbed this late. 

You open the door barely a crack and there, standing close to the frame, is the hulking form of the lieutenant. His random presence catches you off guard; he is the last person you’d expect to see right now with no previous warning. What the hell is he doing here? Silly question, but you don’t want to assume even though you are quick to pick up on a few signs. 

His attention falls to you as he finishes surveying the area around him and those eyes immediately find yours looking up into his balaclava-masked face. You notice something strange in his gaze… like he’s nervous. The sweats he’s currently wearing look as if they’ve been thrown on in a hurry and he isn’t even wearing a shirt, it’s just his dog tags that are over his bare chest. It’s like he’s bolted all the way over here the way he breathes in laborious, heavy draws. 

“Bit late don’t you think?” you say, trying to ascertain from his demeanor what the agenda for this visit is. “Can I help you lieutenant?”

Simon clears his throat. “We need ta talk,” he says, ignoring the snide way you utter his title as he rushes to finish speaking as if he doesn’t have the time. “Are ya gonna fuckin’ let me in?”

“I don’t know if I should…” you counter, your sleepy state making it hard to hide how annoyed you are at his sudden appearance.

He knows he deserves it, but he is desperate to get in. “Please,” he pushes; it’s not a word he uses often.

You detect that hint of desperation in his tone and unable to stop yourself you silently fling open the door enough that he can pass by you to get in. Without another word shared between you both he quickly steps inside as you poke your head out. The hallway is quiet, everyone else still asleep for the night. No personnel can be seen moving about which leads you to believe this isn’t a business call… at least that’s what you hope. 

You close the door and set the lock out of habit, but as you go to turn around your pithy words about how he better have a good reason to wake you up in the dead of night die on your tongue as you are suddenly forced back first onto the surface of the door and pinned with by two large, rough hands on your hips as bulky muscles press against your stomach. The action is so fast it leaves your mind reeling and grasping for understanding.

“Again,” he growls in a huff, his face inches from yours. “Need it again.”

Simon’s breath is warm as it wafts over your features and you realize his balaclava is already discarded haphazardly on your floor; there is no barrier that now exists between you. The parts of his skin that make contact with your body through your clothing are feverish to the touch; it’s like he’s on fire. 

His hands on your hips grip into the muscle harder as he speaks. “Need ya ta make me come again,” he groans, his lips getting closer as he tries to hold back long enough to have this conversation. “Like ya did last time. Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Can’t get off alone again, so you’ve come crawling back to me? Is that it?” you ask, followed by an irked chuckle as you try to steady your breathing, hoping he can’t tell how flustered that little move just made you. He doesn’t get that luxury, at least not yet.

Simon shakes his head slowly. “I’s not that,” he replies, quieting his voice. 

“Then what?” You stare back, waiting for his reply.

Simon licks at his bottom lip. “I’s not just ‘bout comin’... I want you, the way ya fuckin’ do it and I’ll do anythin’ ya tell me to jus’ ta have it like that again.”

His needy words stir something inside you, making you feel that boldness you did that night this happened the first time. How could you say no to a request like that? But you can’t just let all that silence that built between you both in the days since that night pass without saying something.

“Care to tell me why you’ve been ignoring the subject then? I thought we had something going last time and ever since you’ve acted like nothing happened. You made me think we were actually gonna keep this up.”

He pauses a moment as he thinks about how best to answer. “I… like tha fuckin’ power ya seem ta have over me,” he admits finally. He knows he’s fucked up and if this has any chance of going anywhere tonight he is going to have to be honest. “Not used to enjoyin’ somethin’ like that and once the pleasure subsided I got self-conscious ‘bout it. I shoulda said somethin’ to ya sooner. I’m not exactly tha best at tryin’ new things.”

Dammit, that’s actually a reasonable excuse. And, of course, you’re already forgiving him. Fuck. “I guess I can understand that,” you admit as he ever so subtly brushes his lips over your own, which doesn’t help you in staying mad at him. “But how do I know you’re not gonna just pull this shit again, hmm? That we’re not gonna keep playing this game where I give you what you need and then you just ignore me till you need it again? Cause guess what, I got needs too you know.”

Releasing one of your hips, his rough fingers come up to mess with the zipper on your jacket as he lets his confession linger in the air a moment until he pushes the edges of your open coat back to see the skimpy bits of clothing you have underneath and his breath hitches. Barely anything on; god damn he is starving.

Simon’s dark eyes meet yours one for a split second before he breaks the short distance between your faces to catch your lips in a desperate and heated kiss that you cannot help but reciprocate with the same intensity. It’s not exactly the answer you wanted, but in this moment it isn’t half bad and all that frustration melts away as your mouths dance in feverish bursts until finally Simon breaks the kiss.

He inhales a shuddered breath. “Because ya got me in a fuckin’ chokehold, luv.”

You swallow hard to collect yourself; you have been waiting for this chance to spread your dominant wings again and now is not the time to get swept up in his overwhelming desire, not if you want to do this right; you need to keep your head. 

“Well, then that was a good first start, but I’m gonna need a bit more before I can really forgive you.”

Those coffee eyes drift back up from your flushed lips to your face. “I wanna make this right. I’m at your fuckin’ mercy.”

The dog tags around his neck clank together as he shifts his stance and the sound causes a reaction that makes your hand gravitate to them without even thinking. Your fingers find the chain wrapped around his neck and slip around it, pulling it towards you to grip it tightly in your fist, and tug hard.

The action is unexpected and even though it takes Simon by surprise he cannot help moaning deep and guttural at the feeling of the chain tightening around his throat in such a delicious way. This is why he knew he had to come to you tonight, you are full of surprises and he was doing himself a disservice by staying away.

His reaction is evidence that you’re onto something and you decide to run with it. “Then you best be obedient and get down on your knees,” you whisper into the intimate space between your mouths. 

You wrap the chain around your fingers again to make it tighter around his neck and give the tags another hard jerk downward now. That hulking man doesn’t hesitate to follow your direction, slipping out of his shoes and lowering himself to the ground right at your feet like a dog waiting for a treat.      

God, it already feels good to be back in this headspace again, he thinks and your thoughts match the same without either of you knowing.

With your free hand, you wiggle your arm until the sleeve of your jacket slips down and you can pull your arm out of it before you switch the chain to the other hand and do the same to the other side. The clothing falls around your feet and there you stand in almost nothing. 

Simon’s eyes are immediately drawn to your clothed pussy, but you need him to pay attention and so you jerk the chain. “Eh, eyes up on me. I need you to look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Dark eyes snap back to your face and you smirk. “There you go,” you praise him before issuing your first of many demands. “Now, I want you to listen carefully. You are going to take off my panties… with your teeth.” 

Again he immediately follows your order, holding his hands together behind his back to prevent them from getting involved and he leans in to place his lips against your lower abdomen as his teeth latch onto the waistband of your panties. Simon looks up just for a second to see how you tower over him with his makeshift leash wrapped around your delicate fingers. 

God, you look so fucking good.

It makes him feel small for the first time since he was a kid. His body feels like it is vibrating at a new frequency now as he drags that small piece of fabric off your hips and down the length of your legs, excitement and ecstasy flooding through him at a rapid pace so that his heartbeat is pounding dangerously fast.

“That tongue of yours is going to have to do a little more forgiving,” you say as he reaches your ankles, his mouth still clinging to that delicate bit of fabric, his face in the floor as he waits for you to step out of them so that he can sit back upright with his prize between his lips. 

That’s all the context he needs to know what’s coming and his heartbeat leaps excitedly in his chest at the prospect of having his face buried between your legs. You can see the look in his eyes as he drops the undergarment from his mouth and lets it fall down to the floor between his knees; so eager to please in that aspect, but this isn’t for him, it’s for you. 

You chuckle at his electric enthusiasm that you can feel coursing from him as you place your hand at the back of his head. “Don’t get too excited now, you better be sure I can feel just how sorry you are,” you say as you push his head in towards your body, struggling to hide the way your breathing hitches as he gets in close and his balmy lips make contact with the skin on your abdomen.

His lips are already on the move the moment they touch down and he trails them to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. 

Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and in a flash he is smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier, adjusting the chain in your hand so you don’t lose it. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had from the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft gasp as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up for air. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, he writes his apology all over your cunt until the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured washes away the rest of your annoyance at him.

He is relentless in his endeavor, putting his all into eating you out like a goddess deserves. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you can barely contain yourself, but you continue to hang on. There is still more work to be done to him and as good as this feels you cannot let it derail your objective.

You raise your hand to the top of his head. “Who do you belong to Simon?” you ask through a moan as you pet over his scalp and through his short hair. “I’m going to need you to say it, out loud, so that I know you aren’t going to stray away from me again. Say it, say you’re mine.”

Simon pulls away from you swiftly. “I’m yours,” he says against your pussy.

You can feel his warm breath on your lips. “Again,” you push for another answer.

His fingers dig into your thighs. “I am yours, sweetheart.”

“Good boy,” you praise and you can feel him shiver against the palm of your hand still resting over the crown of his head. 

That military officer eats you out as if he is a man starved, his aggression in taking all he can from you making you lose it fast and you scramble as he goes to come up with what comes next. You hadn’t forgotten his words from the last encounter, how he wanted you to make him beg, and you know that this isn’t the way to make that happen; he would clearly love to drown in you forever and be happy to do it.

The more that pressure that builds at the base of your spine, the less time you have to claw through the haze to create a plan, but as you look up from the top of his head bobbing between your legs your sight lands on your bed and like being struck with lightning, your mind materializes a single image of him tied down, arms outstretched with you on top of him and you know what you want to do.

Calmly you try to pull him from you. “That’s enough,” you coax, but he digs his fingers in harder to your hips.

“Wanna make ya cum,” he groans into your body, but you pull him from you by contorting the chain and taking a step back to get out of his immediate way.

“I’m not done with you yet,” you say with a smirk as you look down into his face to see the lower half glimmering with your slick and his saliva. “It’s time to move on to the next part. Go get on the bed and lay down on your back up by the head… and don’t make me tell you again.”

Wiping the wet mixture from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, he gets to his feet and heads to the bed just as you directed. You have to do this on the fly since you haven’t had any time to prepare, but thankfully your pack of gear isn’t far and making your way to it, you dive into one of your duffel bags. It takes you a minute, but finally your hand makes purchase with what you are searching for and you pull out a bundle of military issue rope. 

“Arms out,” you direct him as you make your way back over to the bed. “I know someone likes to get handsy, so we’re gonna take care of that.”

His eyes stay glued to your movements as you bind his wrists and strap them down to the legs under your bed. It’s a good thing you did because as soon as you finish you stand at the foot and remove your tank top agonizingly slowly, letting your breasts bounce as they fall out and you can see the way his pupils dilate; you know he is itching to get his hands on you again. His sweats start to tent even more than they had from the pleasure of being face-deep in your pussy as you stand there completely naked like the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen.

Are you a devil, an angel? Whatever you are, he cannot get enough.

Like a lioness stalking through the grass, you slink onto the bed on all fours, moving until you are over top of his legs where you finally stop and your fingers brush across his stomach as you grab at the waistband of his pants. “Lift your hips,” you command and he does.

You pull them down and off his legs and you can see his cock is already pulsing at attention as it springs free from its cage. Fuck, he’s so hard already he can barely see straight and he has to clench his fists tight and take a few deep breaths to calm himself as he waits for further instruction.

Using the pad of your pointer finger, you lightly brush it over his tip and watch as he almost levitates off the bed as he groans. You wait until he has settled back down before you decide to speak, the smile on your face unable to be contained; oh, he is going to be begging alright, once you’re done with him.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do… we are going to play a little game. I want just the tip inside me, that’s it. And you’re going to lay there and let me warm it for a bit. If you can last till I say then I’ll let you fuck me however you want.” 

You lean over him to grab his chin firmly in your hand. “Do you understand?”

Simon struggles to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head as your skin brushes against him. Fuck, why did he wait so long for this? “Yes,” he says.

That drugged look in his eyes, you can’t get enough of it. “Yes, what?”

Crap, what should he say? You are waiting for his reply, but his mind is already gone. Luckily the soldier in him takes over. “Yes, sergeant, understood.”

That’ll do. “You’re even better at this than you were last time,” you praise, releasing his chin to position your body over top of him, using his chest as leverage, and you can tell he is holding his breath as you grab his cock to place the head right at your entrance.

“Aww, baby, you better breathe cause we’re going to be here a while,” you say and lower your hips to take the tip inside the threshold of your wet cunt.

Simon is now in a battle with internal demons as he fights himself not to cum from this small bit of insertion, his cock is throbbing something fierce as your body puts the tip in a chokehold. You aren’t faring any better as he stretches you out; all you want is to lower yourself on it all the way, but you push that feeling down and incline yourself forward so you won’t be tempted.

The heartbeat coming up through your palms pressed into his chest is thunderous and you can’t help but smile as you count the strikes to calm down. “There we go,” you say after a moment. “See, you’re already doing so well Si. If you keep this up you’re gonna get what you want, to fuck the shit out of me.”

Minutes pass, but the time passes so incredibly slowly that it feels like hours to the lieutenant. He’d been in all types of high stress situations in his career, but nothing had ever been more overwhelming than having to rest just barely inside you without letting that animalistic part of himself take over to thrust up into you until you both cum.

Sweat starts to gather on his bare chest the longer this goes, a product of the conflict raging inside, and it rolls down in shimmering beads over the curves of his muscles, through the hair covering his chest and abdomen, all the way past his belly button. 

You can tell Simon is losing the war with himself to stay still as he unintentionally tries to buck his hips up into you, but he can’t get any purchase as you raise yourself up off him. “Ah, ah, ah, the more you struggle, the less you get,” you tease. “I said just the tip and I meant it. Now, be a good boy and stay still; we’re almost done. You don’t want to lose it right at the end, do you?”

The need is killing him and he can hardly see straight anymore. He wants, no he needs to be deep inside you, but he can’t. You won’t let him. Instead his eyes fixate on something else, anything to give him the strength to survive. 

“See something you like?” you ask with a coy smile spread across your lips. “I can see how hard you’re focusing on my nipples.”

“Need ‘em… in my mouth…” he stammers out. 

“Then stay still and maybe I’ll let you suck them.”

Forcing himself not to move an inch, he becomes like stone even as his muscles twitch and you move your upper body towards him just enough so that he can lean his head in and capture one of your breasts in his hot mouth. 

The moan he lets out in relief is intoxicating, matching the way you feel in between his lips. His suction is strong, pulling as much of the soft, supple tissue into his mouth that he can until breathing becomes nearly impossible. 

“You like that?” you ask in a groan of pleasure and he nods enthusiastically. 

There’s a light pop as he unsuctions his lips from around the first breast to get at the other one, pulling it into his mouth with just as much enthusiasm as the first one. Your distraction is working a little too well, but on you now and it isn’t long before it’s going to make you break.  

You need to end this soon.

“How bad do you want to fuck me now?” you ask, grinding on his tip as you push on his chin to remove him from your nipple so he can at least try and answer.  

There is a hazy quality to his eyes now that reminds you of someone after a night out of heavy drinking. He can barely speak as he feels your slick start to drip down his shaft, but he swallows to gather the strength to create a simple sentence. “So fuckin’ bad.” The words feel too cumbersome in his mouth.

“You want me to untie you so you can take me?” you ask, your tone still cocky even as you yourself are falling apart.

“Please,” he grunts.

“Yeah, you gonna ruin this tight pussy? You gonna rail me so hard I can’t walk after?”

You risk lowering down a bit more onto his shaft and he has to bite the inside of his lip in order to answer. “Gonna ruin you.”

“Then you know what you have to do, Simon. You said it yourself last time and I am going to hold you to it.”

You rotate your hips as you squeeze so that your walls clamp down on him and he chokes on his own saliva as he strains to stay still. His cock is so sensitive he’s sure by now that a little breeze would make him blow his load, but that’s not how he wants it to happen. He’s come this far, the only way he wants to go out is from fucking you.

One more rotation and you stay still to give him a moment to recover; you need his fervent participation for this next part. “ Simon,” you say his name to make him focus on your face again, “beg.”

You’re not gonna go easy on him; that’s just what he wants. “Please,” he says in a whimper, his voice the most meek you’ve ever heard it. It surprises even him that he can sound so pathetic after all the years he’s been the dominant one. “Please, luv, I need ta fuck ya. I’m beggin’ ya luv, please. I’ll… I’ll… I’ll be your good boy. Whateva ya want me ta say, I’ll fuckin’ say it; whateva ya want me ta do, I’ll fuckin’ do it. Jus’ want ta be good for ya so we both can fuckin’ cum.”

“And you’re not gonna pull away from me again?” you ask. “Not gonna deny yourself this type of pleasure from now on?”

“I swear it,” he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m yours, I belong to ya.”

A smile spreads across your lips and fills the features of your face. “Good boy,” you praise as you raise yourself off his body amongst his agonized grunts of displeasure. You move closer to the first wrist to undo the restraint. “That was better than I could have imagined, Simon. I think you’ve more than earned your turn now.”

The tie on his second wrist hasn’t even slipped off the bed before you are forcefully grabbed by the waist and flung onto your back as Simon rips your legs apart and clambers his hulking body in between your thighs. He looks down and sees the effect your teasing has had on you too as the lips of your pussy are covered with your arousal. 

What a pretty fucking sight.

But there’s something he’s been thinking of since you grabbed his dog tags back at the start of all this, one last thing he wants you to do as he pounds you into the mattress. Grabbing both of your arms by the wrists he wrenches them up so that your hands are near his neck. He releases them from his grasp and uses his own hands to encircle yours around his throat.

“Squeeze, hard,” he growls as he leans in to capture your lips and you apply ample pressure to the sides of his neck.

It’s like flicking on a switch and his kisses turn rough and intense in a second so that he is devouring your mouth with everything he has, shoving his tongue to the back of your mouth until you are so full of him just as you will be down below in only a few more seconds time. A low groan vibrates in his throat against your palms before spilling onto your tongue. 

“Mmm, gonna fuck the shit outta ya now, luv,” he gasps between the embraces of your mouths. 

God, yes, please. “Then give it to me, baby,” you purr as you keep your hands firmly around his neck. “That’s it, get your prize.”

Simon pushes your thighs back towards your chest as he aligns the head of his throbbing cock with your moist entrance and you can no longer hold back how much you need him in you, inching your hips forward as you try to force him inside. Is it desperate? Yes. Is it needy? Yes. Do you fucking care? Not even in the slightest.

He’s the one to chuckle now. “Christ, you’re gonna be tha death ‘a me and I’m gonna die fuckin’ happy as hell.” With that he pushes through the threshold and down the length of his thick shaft, bottoming out all the way inside.

After all that stimulation, being smothered in your tight, wet cunt is almost too much for his sanity to handle. Just entering you he is already seeing stars. What’s going to happen when he actually comes?  

The first of his movements comes swift and hard; there is no more time for being gentle, not with the way both of your bodies are in agony for release. Your poor, government issued mattress can hardly withstand the power of his desperate thrusts as he slams them forcefully into you, each one causing the springs to creak and groan loudly until it is echoing off the walls.   

You open your mouth, pushing yourself to keep in control even as he is shoving his cock so far into you, you swear you can feel it in your stomach. “That’s it, give it to me Simon. Fuck, I love the way you stretch me out.”

The sloppy sounds of your drenched pussy being penetrated so aggressively grow louder and louder the more he ruts into you at that relentless pace. He pushes your legs back farther against your chest to open you up even more, needing to get as deep as humanly possible. There is only one thing left in his feeble mind now: to make you both cum and cum hard.

You let out a moan as your body shakes up and down with each thrust and squeeze so that you tighten around him and it makes his thrusting falter, breaking his rhythm for a moment.

“Bloody hell, jus’ like that… fuck…”

His words fuel you to do it again and he groans. “Yeah? You like that?” you ask breathlessly and he nods.

“That’s what you do to me Simon,” you continue. “No one makes me feel like you do.”

You compress around him again and his body jolts. “God, you’re gonna make me cum. It feels so good, sweetheart. Don’t stop.” 

“I want you to cum, Si. Cum for me. I need it so fucking bad; I’ve been waiting so long to make it happen again.”

Just the thought of making him fall apart again is a stimulant in itself and all that pressure that had been previously built is quickly coming to a head, that warmth in your belly glowing through you with more intensity now. That look of euphoria must be plastered all over your face for him to see because he is focused in on you even harder at making sure his strokes are more even.

“You first,” Simon grunts. “And don’t fuckin’ hold back.”

He is fighting tooth and nail to hold on for just a little bit longer; he knows you can’t be far off. Then he sees your toes curling into the air at his sides and he instinctively knows that each thrust is hitting its mark precisely as it’s meant to, your body giving in to all the pleasure it needs to be satisfied. A few more pumps and there it is, just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as your core flutters around his cock.

You place your hand over his gripped around your thigh and he laces his fingers in between the spaces in your own, holding onto you for dear life as you coax him with shaky words. “Let go, baby. That’s it.”

He isn’t far behind and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been tirelessly overwhelming his body all night finally shoots through his body while he releases a loud moan, the euphoria coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out and you reach between your legs to take it in your free hand to stroke it over your stomach. His warm load shoots out in short bursts, coating the skin on your abdomen in his cum.

“You did so good for me, Simon,” you sweetly praise in repeat as you work his cock until he has to tap your hand to get you to stop.

His limbs are shaking from the comedown as he breathes in deep, his body spent, his mind completely blank in his state of ecstasy, and he releases your legs to tumble down beside you exhausted. A few minutes pass silently in that high until he can collect himself enough to speak again.   

With his palm against your cheek, he turns your head to face him. “If I ever do somethin’ as stupid as tryin’ to stay away from ya again, ya ‘ave my permission to fuckin’ deck me,” he says with a laugh before scooching in closer to your face to place a kiss to your lips.

“That’s not gonna happen,” you say against his mouth, “ cause you said it yourself Si, you’re mine now. And you would never deny me what’s mine, would you?”

Another kiss placed to your lips, this one lingering a bit. “Never,” he says finally.

Good, you think, cause I will fucking deck you.

[cheer-nympho]

Steve had been conned into chaperoning the kids to a ren faire.

Admittedly with very little resistance, but he was keeping that to himself. Once there and with their bags packed away into some apparently theme appropriate tents he had shrugged on some medieval casual clothes and…immediately lost track of all of them,

But a figure he did spot was a long haired Jester entertaining a small entourage with juggling,

Steve finds himself laughing slightly condescendingly at the jingling man. Why do people find juggling so impressive?

He picked it up straight away with some hackey sacks while bored between practices. He’s just good with his hands.

When he looks back up to get another glance in however, the jester isn’t perched on top of his little rock anymore and the crowd has merged with the other dweebs.

Steve stares at the empty space for a moment before a jingle right by his ear spooks him into turning around.

“Art thou not impressed by my amazing skills, your lordship?” The jester asks, swaying on his feet and causing the bells all over him to ping, grin wide and mocking.

And up close Steve notices one very important, very dangerous thing.

This court jester is really fucking hot.

He looks like an idiot, a nerd, a dweeb. Its hard not to in a pointy hat. But he also wore it too well, looked too perfect like that.

Steve notices the…is that..? Yes, the corset wrapping tightly around the mans waist, red and black diamonds decorating the sides and leading to small puffy shorts. His legs are covered in tight black leggings which should look ridiculous. It should.

An obnoxious cough and head tilt-jingle make Steve aware that he has been staring at the mans waist for way longer than was ‘bro code permitted’

He looks up with a wince, expecting a look of disgust ranging from mild embarrassment to punch-your-lights-out.

He was, instead, greeted by a smug and knowing smile. The red and black triangles painted over the mans eyes warped where the grin reached them. “Or maybe thou art impressed, but skills are not what draw thine eyes.”

Shit. Fuck. The stupid hot nerd is using stupid nerd speak on him. And Steves stupid nerd, apparently ‘very accurate’ pants are getting tighter. He needs to say something. Anything.

“You’ve got…bells.” Okay, maybe not anything. He used to be better at this shit.

He is rewarded with a wild, joyous laugh as the jester throws his head from side to side. “I do! Isn’t it amazing?The staff insisted on it so they could hear me coming.”

“It certainly makes an impression-“

“Eddie, names Eddie. And what does my lordship go by?”

“Steve is fine.”

“That he is…” The comment was punctuated by a less than subtle glance, almost a leer. “However, Fine Steve seems unimpressed with my merrymaking. As the official court jester, I cannot let that stand.” He stamps his foot, causing another cacophony of jingles.” “Therefore…”

“…Pick a card any card!” A pack of standard cards was presented to him with a flourish, but all he could do was roll his eyes.

“Come on, really? This shit is basic. All I have to do it watch your hands. You’ll swipe my card out and put it back in later, or mark it somehow.”

“Ooo his highness has it all figured out doesn’t he. Well then, princess, you have nothing to lose by picking a card, do you?” And that was…true. Plus he could maybe try to fix his previous fumble and try to claw a number out of this disaster.

So with another bitchy roll of his eyes, Steve plucks a card from the deck and hides it behind his palm. Two of Hearts.

Then out of nowhere… “You know, Stevie, if you think I’m pretty you can just tell me. I know the kingdom would approve not of a noble like yourself marrying a commoner like me, but they need know little of how we…” He begins to reshuffle the cards, motioning for Steve to place his chosen one back in before making some very obvious, very crude movements with his fingers. “…get to know each other in the meantime.”

He was going to die. In the middle of a nerd fest.

“Well, my lord…” Eddie continues, circling him while dragging a finger across his arms and shoulder blades before coming to a stop in front of him. A very bold hand takes Steves jaw and forces his head up, pretending to inspect something on his costume for any bystanders.

“If you would like some more…close up demonstrations…” He leans in tightly, still holding Steve’s jaw in a tight grip. “You can pay me a visit in staff cabin 23 tonight.” He strokes a piece of hair gently behind Steve’s ear before pulling out a card, as if from said ear.

Steve was glad that Eddie took the initiative to carefully pull his hand up and place the card into his palm, because currently Steve was too preoccupied with staring like a fish out of water into Eddies eyes. Everything about him was just so captivating, so alive.

Maybe that’s why he did little more than step forward aimlessly, with small grabby hands when Eddie pulled away. Before Steve could even process it, the bells and jingles had mingled back into the crowd. But that was…that was okay. Cause he could go to the…cabin?

But how was he supposed to- Oh. He looks down. On the card was a loosely clipped room key with a ‘23’ crudely engraved into the edge as if by a pocket knife.

The card itself, to his horror, was the Two of Hearts.

Shit.

He forgot to watch the fucking hands.

[nucleos]

Lucanis post locking in the romance quest/date idea

I really liked lucanis as a romantic character who isn't particularly good at romantic gestures but is way better when he just follows his instincts anyway sooo heres my idea for a post locking in the romance quest for Lucanis before his final act quest that would improve the romance a lot, bioware steal this idea for a dlc or update you have my permission.

----

Lucanis finds Rook in the kitchen as they come in, strides up to them very proud talking about a date. He's planned a date! Well, Bellara planned a date, he apprehensively admits, but he's excited and he's sure it'll be perfect and he'll meet Rook at the restaurant in Treviso whenever they are ready. He's got that cool confidence you see him with all the time.

When you get to the date, the camera pans you into the scene from above, and you are in the most gaudy romantic restaurant imaginable, I'm talking candles all around the area, rose petals on the floor and bouquets littering the room, it's A LOT. Rook and Lucanis are sat across from each other but between them is a massive food center piece that completely blocks them from seeing each other. Next to the table is a loud obnoxious music troupe serenading the couple before them much to both their dismay. Rook is befuddled trying to make small talk but can't see or hear past the things around them, whilst Lucanis is rubbing his brow frustrated and embarrassed. Amidst the madness, their entrees arrive and they look awful, they question what it is for a second, before Lucanis lets out a long sad sigh, Rook asks if he's okay and he waves his hand before looking down, making a comment to himself about how he really just wanted this date to be special. Rook hears this even though they aren't meant to, and tries to reassure him but alternatively decided to take initiative and suggest they ditch, making up an excuse, and exiting this wild scene and go for a walk around Treviso. He quickly agrees and they run out of the resteraunt ducking away from the loudness. The energy outside the restaurant is immediately less tense if still a bit awkward at first. They just small talk, laughing about it being Bellara's idea, talking about Lucanis's previous underwhelming attempts at romance he's had with others. He brings up the story about giving a knife to a person he tried to romance prior and being rejected, not really trusting his sense of romance. Rook reassures him and they both begin to ease. They go through the market, commenting on the things around them, Lucanis talking about his childhood in Treviso, Rook commenting similarly about her upbringing (faction/race character dialogue). They get to the flower stand and Lucanis picks one out after asking what Rook's favorite is. As they continue to get more invested in conversation, talking about his previous attempts at romancing Rook, mentioning his locking in scene being told it was underwhelming by the other teammates, what it's like dealing with Spite, maybe Spite throwing some insults at Lucanis for how terribly the date went at the beginning, commenting on what Rook smells like or something similar. As they begin to get past the market, the conversation begins to almost draw to an end, mentioning how late it is, with Rook looking up, saying how they think the skyline in Treviso is so beautiful. Lucanis clearly thinks to himself for a moment and then says he knows all the best viewing spots if they want to see? offering his hand and Rook agrees. He leads them to the spot, up spiral staircases across flat roofs, small moments of tripping and giggling, mentioning Rooks surprising lack of dexterity, until they end up in a secluded rooftop balcony area, with little flowers hang down from the tiles above it, dimly lit against the glittering Treviso skyline. Rook is taken aback, amazed by what they see before them, Lucanis starts pointing out some of the things he mentioned earlier in the market. This moment lingers until they realize they haven't stopped holding hands, a little stuttering, an awkward shuffle between the two until the moment silence is broken by a violin and guitar player playing on the street below. Lucanis asks if Rook would like to dance, they accept. It's a bit clumsy at first, little chuckles and misstep but they steady into it, a steady swaying (big ol obvious metaphor for the date). Lucanis mentions learning to dance for seduction and assassin reasons, Rook asking if that's what he'd been doing all evening (sarcastic mask dialogue). Moment is rosie, warm, and Lucanis asks if he could be honest for a moment.

He begins to talk about how since he was young he wasn't the charmer like his cousin, he was only ever sure of the dagger in his hand, the hand of someone else feeling too delicate, and it being proven to him time and time again as something he could break, that feeling intensifying even more so since acquiring Spite, with these moments being too fragile and too beautiful for him to be allowed to hold. So, afraid to break them, he denied them, drowned them, thought that after the ossuary he would remain sunk under the ocean, that he would go down with these burdens, and let himself be enveloped by the water. But in these moments in front of Rook, someone who actively is striving to make the world around them better, faces the world every day, unafraid to find the good in it whilst against all the bad, he wonders... what it would feel like. Wonders what? Rook asks. To just... give in, he replies in whispers. He is inches away from their face at this point in time, his forehead against theirs. Rook makes a close whispered remark, like an I'm here. You're safe. I've got you, type line (I'm not a writer). He moves forward, leans into a soft but long kiss between them. The warmth of the moment swelling as the music plays around them. He pulls away slowly, his eyes meeting theirs, hazy and full of warmth. Rook smiles at him coyly, ''and how does it feel?", they ask. Lucanis releases a deep breath smiling back at Rook.

"Like coming up for air".

The camera floats up towards the skyline as the couple continues to dance and the scene fades to black.

---

yeah. im not a writer idk how to fancy this up at all, or make it less cheesy but thats my idea

[scudismystud]

You’re on the right track but I think there’s more to it than that though. Spoilers under the cut.

Gale was told from a very young age that he would be a great wizard so he has to shoulder the expectation that he has to become one again after his falling out with Mystra (which I am of the opinion they were both wrong it wasn’t him just messing up with her- she was also using him but that’s a whole other conversation). Gale believes his only worth is if he is a great wizard and that is so heartbreaking. This is why he is so willing to sacrifice himself at the drop of a hat. He believes that if he can’t be as powerful as he was with Mystra and heralded as a great wizard instead of a great disappointment that he might as well give his life in a heroic way. He desperately wants to be great - like he views Mystra to be.

The reason he talks about her so often is because he wants to be her. This is clear when you reach Act 3 and he starts talking about the idea of becoming a god himself. Gale has megalomaniacal tendencies and will either pursue them if left to his own devices by the player because he just wants to be great. It isn’t until the player chooses options to tell him that he isn’t defined by his magic or grand power that Gale starts to realize he has worth just being himself outside of magic and Mystra. Yes he will always love magic but he becomes aware that it’s something he can enjoy without having to idolize Mystra in the unhealthy way he does through the first act of the game.

Relating back to your analogy, I think this is more of a case where Disney had all of the legal software to draw and you show talent from a very young age and everyone says you’re going to be the next great artist so Disney CEO hires and then starts sleeping with you when you’re of age. As you get older and your relationship is getting closer (at least on your end you believe the relationship is equal) you start asking for better software you know the ceo is using but they keep telling you that you aren’t good enough.

You then find out there’s a hidden software online that you’ve been told is an altered version of Disney software. You download it in the hopes of bringing it to Disney ceo thinking they’d be happy you found upgraded software for them but then they’re mad at you. They cast you out of their circle.

You then get a virus from that program that is going to slowly kill your computer if you don’t keep letting it eat your files and even though you can still use your other programs from Disney they don’t work like they used to so you can’t make art as great as you once did. You then are told by that ceo that they can stabilize the computer temporarily but you should get rid of your computer which would also kill you in the process.

On top of that you also find out the software you had downloaded never belonged to Disney to begin with. You find out other software has always existed but the public cannot be trusted with it according to Disney CEO. You find out you’ve been misled by the CEO for years and there’s so much more out there you could sharing with the world. You then start to pursue making yourself a CEO convincing yourself you’ll be different than Disney CEO.

I do think comparing Mystra to a CEO is very fitting because she does have a horrible power imbalance to the relationship she has with Gale so he sees her in a good light despite all the things she does wrong for way too long. I don’t think Mystra is evil but I do think that what she did to Gale was wrong and warped him into the man who thinks he needs to be a god to be worthy of being alive. To reiterate again this is why he is constantly talking about her. He wants to be her. He wants infinite knowledge and magic.

At least that’s what he wants if left to his own pursuits. If you romance him, he then starts to think of a future with you. He still talks about Mystra but it isn’t in the idolizing way it was before (“you make me forget my goddess” line my beloved). He comes into his own as a character who could see himself being happy as Gale Dekarios the man instead of Gale of Waterdeep the great wizard.

I feel like people don't grasp that Gale keeps talking about Mystra because (among other things) he's obssessed with magic.

I think it's hard to understand because in our world, any skill is an existence in and of itself but for a rough example,

Imagine if Disney had a monopoly on drawing. They were in charge of all of the drawing softwares, they own all of the art supply companies and hell, maybe they even own paper.

Now imagine you royally mess it up with the CEO of Disney. You love to draw but anytime you draw, it's ultimately seen or controlled by Disney. It must be rough. I feel for him, I really do.

Mystra isn't just some goddess connected to magic. Since most people can only safely access through the weave and Mystra manages the weave, as far as Gale is concerned, Mystra IS magic.

[vladdyissues]

so i keep thinking about just how thoroughly knocking vlad up would fix a lot of his issues (or it does in the series as my ass would write it). i also keep thinking the timing is SO bad on giving him any in the canon

SO

TIME TRAVEL

-Danny (late teens) is given a chance to change the past

-he decides to go and antagonize Vlad a few years before canon to distract him from murder attempts on Jack. draw his wrath onto himself and displace his previous rage target. that's a nice safe range of time travel right? how badly could he possibly throw things off when he already exists and is most of the way to who he was when he was starting out?

-small side effect--he catches Vlad's full attention. he hadn't planned to go after Jack and Maddie for a few years yet, when everything was lined up, meaning Danny is the ONLY one he has eyes for right now. it's a level of intensity he was not ready for

-Vlad, meanwhile, is unprepared for how he feels to see another half-ghost. he had been ready to go those whole 20 years totally alone, preparing for that perfect moment of sweeping Maddie off her feet. now it's a little difficult to focus on the big picture. he needs to figure out EVERYTHING about this stranger

-over a course of about three months, shit gets romantic. and physical. not necessarily in that order

-Danny realizes he's THOROUGHLY fucked the timeline as WELL as his archnemesis, so actually tells Vlad the whole story--he can't stay in the past forever, but his memories of being here and doing this will sort of... snap into place when this timeline's danny reaches the right age. Here's events between then and now, here's things he would like to still happen, here's things he never wants to happen

-he does NOT expect Vlad to wait and they're still in that spicy in-between part of enemies-to-lovers so Vlad sure as fuck isn't promising that, but he's certain he isn't obsessing on taking Maddie from Jack anymore, so looks forward to the option of picking up where they left off

-(dick so good it can fix homicidal rage)

-Danny goes back to the new future at the end of those three months since much longer and he'd start forgetting relevant details in living a day to day life and ohhhhh fuck, fuck, FUCK WHAT DID HE DO

-meanwhile in the past Bitter Reunions happens and Vlad has no desire to do anything to Jack or Maddie besides introduce them to his adorable tiny four, soon to be five year old daughter Danielle, with whom he plans to move to Amity Park soon when she starts kindergarten. openly offers to train Danny with no strings attached, he's just invested in making sure he survives for at least a few more years

-(jailbait wait, but make it sci-fi)

-Vlad is much more chill about things with an attainable goal and a small child that needs him at his best

-he doesn't see his Danny in this newbie, but now he knows the future, knows that if he's just patient and helps Danny out now, HIS Danny will come back to him

-when the timelines eventually sync, THERE'S THAT FULL, INTENSE, ATTENTION AGAIN

-as well as several years of memories of becoming intensely attached to Dani and Vlad being an infuriating jackass without being an antagonizing one, keeping some of that hateful spice without actively committing crimes against everything Danny values. in fact, his help was still instrumental in pulling things off

-Vlad has been waiting for this Danny for some time now, full-on obsession building up steam, so if Danny wants it to not happen, he had better say something about it

-he does not. he kinda dreaded losing it on snapping forward, actually. and Vlad managed to thread the needle of training him and building a bond with Dani without totally shifting their relationship's tone

Time Travel makes me cry because my stupid ogre brain is not good at parsing temporal phenomena but the parts I understood were excellent and make perfect sense. And the thought of Jack and Maddie being surprised (and maybe relieved, because 20 years without a peep from Vlad and suddenly a party invite? Kinda unnerving. Is he still mad?) to find their old college friend is a happy single father to an adorable little girl who—wow, Jack, doesn't she look so much like Danny when he was that age?—is just 💯💯💯

And Vlad knowing that there's something wonderful (a relationship, family, love, connection and understanding like he's never felt before) waiting for him at the end of this journey if he can just be patient would, I think, do a lot to tone down his villainous proclivities.

Vlad's essential problem is that he's so desperately lonely and impatient that he can't see beyond his immediate need to satisfy himself. He can formulate elaborate plans, yes, but he doesn't really plan for the future beyond those plans. He's totally still living in the past (at least until this AU happens), metaphorically driving a car with the pedal to the metal but looking nowhere except the rear view mirror. And this AU totally breaks that and gets him looking ahead, invested in the present again. I love it.

[raveninfog]

Secrecy.

Authors note- hi everyone! I’m pretty new to all this and this is my first shot at writing. I’ve always been a spectator, just waiting on amazing authors to update their fics to reading one shots in the middle of the night cause I can’t sleep. I’ve always had ideas in my head about how I’d write and I decided to finally give it a try. Hopefully you’d all enjoy it. Also with that being said, please don’t be afraid to give me some advice on how I can get better as time goes on. 🫶🏼

Enjoy my loves!

Warnings- flirting, light swearing, nicknames, based in the late 40s. Kissing. Sneaking around, Best friend’s older brother. Sergeant James Barnes. Reader is 20 while Bucky is 24.

Genre- Oneshot! Fluff! Best Friends Brother.

You were sitting there at the dining table with your best friend Rebecca. Working on a school project you had to finish with her for your history class. Books laid out in front of you, papers, pencils. The sound of the front door opening was heard since the dining room was right by the front door of the small home. It was him, Rebecca’s older brother bucky. He was home from the base quite early today.

You’ve had a crush on him for a while, how couldn’t you? He was a sergeant, in the military, about to go fight in the war in a couple months. That crush reciprocated from Bucky, it had seemed like he felt the same way about you too. Which later came out to be very true. So you two had a little secret, a little secret relationship..no one knew about.

Not even Rebecca.

As you saw Rebecca get up and go to the kitchen to grab some snacks, Bucky came up behind you. He knew this was the perfect time too. The kitchen wall blocked off the area of the living room you were in. Your head turning to the side to where he was as you heard him, before he leaned in and kissed your lips passionately. His lips met in a fiery clash, soft yet insistent, moving with a rhythm that spoke of longing and urgency with yours. The warmth of his touch was intoxicating, every brush sending shivers down your spine. It was the way your lips fit perfectly within his, moving in sync, that made everything else fade into the background—a perfect balance of softness and intensity, leaving you two breathless and wanting more.

His lips were pliant and eager, parting slightly to deepen the connection, to draw the you closer. There was a slight pressure, firm and deliberate, as if to imprint the moment into a memory. The sensation was both tender and consuming, each movement speaking of unspoken words, of desire that couldn't be contained.

You were caught off guard of course, especially when you had turned your head and there was your boyfriend. You felt his lips on yours, before closing your eyes and kissing him back. The way he had bent down and had his hand on the back of your head, tilted upwards to get a good angle of your perfect lips on his . The warmth of your own breath and his mingled, and the world around you two faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your hearts and lips together.

“Is this how you say hello?...” you whispered to him in between kisses, when you pulled away just slightly for him to capture your lips again in a split second for a moment.

You could feel him pull away, to see if Rebecca was still in the kitchen. Hell, he could hear Rebecca going through the cabinets to find snacks or something.

To his luck, she was still in the kitchen. You had felt his lips right back on yours once again without even saying a single thing to you until he had finally pulled away to speak. He rested his forehead against yours, his thumb moving onto your cheek bone and caressing it gently before his thumb slid down to your bottom lip doing the same.

His lips curled into a soft smirk, his perfect little doll he absolutely adored with all his god damn being. It was almost surprisingly how Rebecca didn’t notice her big brother look at her own best friend with love in his eyes for you.

“What else do you want? A little love tap?” He teased you as he ran his thumb against your chin now.

You finally felt him pull his hands away from you, standing up straight as he fixed his uniform and took a shuffle back just in time as Rebecca had made her way back with some tea she had made. God, Rebecca was so oblivious to the point where it felt too easy. Too easy to the point it felt god damn suspicious.

“Let’s get this project over with so we can go to bed, unless you want Bucky to drive you home Y/N.” Becca said, setting the mug of tea in front you before taking a seat in the chair. Her face having a clear look of annoyance at the papers in front of her.

Bucky turned his head, looking at his little sister because he took a glance at you and cleared his throat a little.

“Why not tell dad to drop her off?” He spoke up. It felt like torture to say that, but he knew he had to play the game of keeping the relationship a secret.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and looked at her older brother before snickering at him.

“Well hello to you too, Why wouldn’t you wanna drop your girlfriend off?”

“WHAT?!” You and Bucky say in sync, shock spreading on his face while your cheeks turned completely red.

“What do you mean wha- oh come on, did you guys REALLY think I was that stupid..you guys aren’t exactly the best at hiding things. Especially since you two are always making out somewhere in the damn house.”

Buckys cheeks turned red as he rubbed the back of his neck, he honestly didn’t know what the hell to say to his little sisters revelation about her knowing everything. Clearly you were embarrassed, not to mention shocked about your best friend knowing. God you knew you and Bucky weren’t ever gonna hear the end of this. Not in a bad way really, more in an annoying way where she’d bring it up at every occasion she sees.

“Uh well…I-If that’s the case then yeah..I’ll drop Y/N off��unless she’s sleeping over.” Bucky said, before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Ugh pervert..” Becca muttered in disgusted.

[secretlyobito]

Second skin

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

Who knew the fearsome Uchiha Sasuke was........clingy?

Post war Sasuke x reader

Lots of things had changed about Sasuke since the war ended. He had a rinnegan now in his left eye, he was much taller, calmer and....touchy?

It freaked you out the first time it happened because before his defection and the war, you were used to zero physical affection from Sasuke. Sure there was the occasional hand holding or forehead tap but hugging? Caressing? Cuddling? Sasuke was uncomfortable with that, with letting people in that close. It wasn't a big deal to you, you knew your lover and accepted him for who was, quirks and boundaries included.

So it came as a shock to you when he showed up at your doorstep a few days after the war had ended and he had been pardoned for his crimes against Konoha. Sasuke never came to you first, it was always you putting in most of the heavy load in the relationship. You were already poised to ask him if everything was alright when he suddenly pulled you into a hug. What the hell, who's this and what did he do with Sasuke?

It startled you, you almost didn't recognize it was a hug. It was obvious he didn't give many hugs, he was stiff, akward and wasn't even fully touching you. After a few moments of you standing there and blinking in shock, he eventually grunts and shoves you away (lightly) in embarrassment from your lack of reciprocation. His cheeks are red as he huffs and turns around ready to leave. He summoned up all that courage to finally hold you and this is what he gets?

"wait! wait!" you giggle gripping his cloak to prevent him from leaving as he grumbles and tries to hide his flushed face. "Was that a hug??" you howl with laughter as he yanks his cloak out of your grasp and glares at you. "I was just...nevermind" He figures explaining would make everything worse. He was just going to leave and pretend this never happened, and if you tried to bring it up? He would just gaslight you into thinking you were crazy. Yep, sounds like the perfect plan.

You decide you've laughed at him enough, after all he's making an effort. You smile up at him before gently grabbing his hand and tugging him closer. "Thank you Sasuke, that meant a lot to me" You hope your words of praise would encourage him to take more baby steps. "But I didn't even do it right..." He huffs looking away, yet his thumb draws circles on your hand that grabbed his. "Its the thought that counts anyways" you shrug.

Sasuke always loved that aspect of you even though it felt like he was taking advantage of you. You were always so kind and caring and so understanding as a partner, even when he failed to be affectionate like other guys were to their girlfriends. Well no more, all that was going to change starting from today.

Ever since that day, true to his words he was more affectionate. He was basically attached to you by the hip now. He had gotten better at hugs too, they went from stiff and weird to warm and loving. He was also much bolder, these days you would find Sasuke absent mindedly caressing your thigh or sweeping you off your feet(quite literally) when he felt you were walking too slow, his new favourite hobby was lounging with his head in your lap and you playing with his hair. He would never admit that though.

He hadn't quite gotten to the level of cuddles and kisses yet. Whenever you brought it up while suggestively wiggling your eyebrows, he would blush and stutter calling you a little pervert before abruptly walking away to go and fantasize about how it would feel to have your lips on his.

Even though it seemed like Sasuke being clingy and affectionate was something he picked up out of the blue after the war, the truth was that Sasuke had always been an affectionate person by heart. Only his parents and Itachi knew just what a loving and tender boy he was. Much to his delight, Itachi was often the subject of Sasuke's cuddles when they were younger but the sheer gravity of the trauma of what he had been through made him into the damaged and withdrawn person he became before the war. Now he's slowly healing and learning to love again and you couldn't be more glad he chose you to take on that journey with him.

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

Guess who's back from the dead? meee. Jk I've actually been busy with uni applications, your girl's getting ready to move halfway across the world for school, pray for me ya'll 😭😭😭 also if anybody knows any good scholarships for international students aside from the mainstream ones like commonwealth, chevening, mastercard etc, please recommend them to me ☹.

Thank you for reading, hugs and kisses. 😙

[nebulamorada]

please sit with me and listen to me talk about a B-Rabbit x reader where I develop their roles as Lily's caretakers

• You had first met Rabbit in high school, both of you being friends for a while before you started dating.

• You swear it was a casual thing, but Future still claims the $50 he lost to Sol in the typical "how long will it take them to date" bet.

• His little sister is an important part of his life and he wants to take care of her childhood as much as he can, once you understand that, she stopped being a reason to cancel dates or postpone them and start organizing something she can be in too.

• In that way, Lily was never an outsider to the two of you. Because of how little she was when you started dating and the distrust Rabbit had to leave her in the care of his mother from Thursday to Sunday, she was there on the afternoons that 313 wasn't doing anything crazy or on the dates you had with him.

• It's not that Stephanie is completely oblivious to her life, but being unstable, I have this hc where Lily was slower to start talking than the average kid, though when she did, you and Rabbit were what she called the most, both of you having to correct her sometimes and repeat your names or nicknames because she called you mom or dad on occasion when she was a toddler.

• As soon as you two moved in together at a more advanced point in the relationship, either to a trailer or a small apartment, she was more regularly with you. The two-room space was used in a way that she had a place of her own with you, being filled little by little with the basics before being able to give her more things due to the little money that was circulating, at least at the beginning.

• During her kindergarten years, her drawings were mostly of you and Rabbit, of outings you had, of weekend mornings where her brother got a free shift and the three of you ate breakfast with messy blankets on the couch watching cartoons, etc.

• Even though she has her own space in your home, it's not unusual for her to appear in the room you share with Rabbit at night, especially if it's raining or something stressful happened for her. You never noticed that, while asleep, you and Rabbit place your hands on her tummy, something you remember doing when she was a baby to make sure she was breathing properly at night.

• On days when he doesn't work, you're quiet if you wake up first, and sometimes because she's used to the school routine, Lily wakes up early too, the two of you slowly getting out of bed to make a quick breakfast in the kitchen, quietly listening to some pop songs that the little girl enjoys. Rabbit is genuinely happy when he wakes up then and sees the two of you dancing around the kitchen goofily, Lily being the one who almost always ends up covered in flour or pancake mix.

• Rabbit takes double shifts at certain times of the year so he can afford a better Christmas or Halloween costume or school event Lily has, which you both always try to go to, when he can't because of work, you record it for him to watch with Lily at the end of the day, the girl commenting on each part adding details from her own memories.

• Lily sort of ends up coming with you; it had started gradually with visits in the afternoons or sleepovers at night, then, she would stay from Thursday to Sunday, when Stephanie was more absent due to bingo nights or drinking, finally, most of her stuff ends up at the home you have with Rabbit and although she still goes to her mother's house, it's clear that it's not the place she considers home.

• Rabbit will never let you tell anyone about the way he cried the night Lily brought you two as her Family Day drawing.

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 53

Alright so I’m gonna level with you. 

I REALLY wanted to do a V3 based pic for this day. However at the time I couldn’t for the life of me come up with an actual idea for it.

I think it’s because I was very tunnel visioned on specifically trying to do something with Junko Enoshima the 53rd, for very obvious reasons. This was back before I really had any opinions on Tsumugi, at that point the space she held in my brain was “Unique Antagonist that shows up semi-often in Junkan Fics.”

Which isn’t like, the best way one could view the character I can imagine. Though she had it better than Yasuke at least I didn’t even know who he was outside of occasionally appearing in these fics until like, somewhere in the first month of Project Production. I’ve never read DR0, someday though. someday. 

Anyway back to Tsumugi, mostly thanks to the local bandit, I’ve come to appreciate the character a lot more. I’m not like, an expert on the character. I'm still kind of feeling things out purely through osmosis, i’m not really an expert on nothing. However I like her a lot more than I used to, which means I have hindsight.

If I was making Day 53 right now I would probably just make some kind of art about Tsumugi being a Junkan Shipper. We’ve all given characters headcanon based on ourselves before, gender, sexuality, personal experiences, that weird clicking thing you can do with your thumb (or is that just me?), we love to impart aspects of ourselves onto these characters. 

And when the hell else am I going to headcanon such a specific fuckin’ aspect of myself such as “I ship Junkan” onto a character? It’s Tsumugi or nothing.

Honestly I’m not gonna guarantee but I might actually just make a pic based on what I’m currently thinking for a Tsumugi Themed Junkan art, and just, posted the same day as this one? If I do i’ll schedule it in advance to post like, an hour or two after this one. Enjoy the suspense of whether I actually did that or not! 

Oh, and I actually edited this image a bit. Both because I thought Junko's face just looked, bad in this. But also for reasons I'm not gonna bother getting into right now. However as a result we got this funny bit during the editing process

What if Junko was creepypasta lol . . . . . . . oh

oh god DAMMIT WAIT I LIKE THIS. Now I can't draw it until this Day gets released! DAMMIT!

[novankenn]

Small Packages (2)

Less than a minute later, a young rabbit faunus was helping Jaune from the floor. Her nose was scrunched up, and Jaune was pretty sure it was from his smell. Not bathing for a week, while sleeping in alleys, and scrounging for food in trash piles, would do that. Or at least he hoped that was the reason. He was pretty sure if she was against him because of his heritage he would finally snap.

"Let's get you in the back so you can get cleaned up, okay?" she commented, giving a warm smile, that look cute even with her nose scrunched up. "I'm velvet by the way. And you?"

"Jaune. Jaune Arc." he replied.

"Looks like you've been having a rough time." Velvet chit-chatted as she guided him past the reception desk into the back rooms. Rooms that Jaune was positive were only for staff, which seemed odd.

"Yeah."

"You can talk to me or any of the other staff about it if you want. It's part of our job here to be a sympathetic ear when needed." she offered as she opened a rather sturdy door. Inside which was a good sized room, with a large bronze wash tub in the center. "This is the bathing room. The privy is the last door at the end of the hallway."

"Thank you?"

"Do you have any clean clothes to change into?" Velvet asked, still giving him her soft smile. "If you don't I can see about get you an shirt, until your clothes can be cleaned."

"I don't have anything clean." Jaune embarrassedly admitted. "A shirt would be nice."

"Okay. There's a draw curtain for privacy, so wash up. I'll put a nightshirt out here for you."

"Thank you... um..."

"Yes, Jaune?"

"Why?"

"I don't follow. Why what?"

"Why are you being so civil with me? I'm a Kit! Worse than just that, I'm a MALE Kit! I don't understand?"

"What you are, makes no difference to me Jaune." Velvet replied. "I was raised better than that, and Matron Goodwitch does not tolerate the miss treatment of others, when she sees it."

"But..."

"Jaune. Have a bath, get cleaned up, and then I'll take you to the Matron." Velvet gave him an even warmer smile. "You obviously came here looking for work, so we'll find you some."

"Thank you." Jaune responded weakly, tears starting to form in his eyes. "Thank you."

An hour later, Jaune found himself seated in the Matron's office. The night shirt Velvet had gotten him was made of plain linen, but do to his size if covered him from his neck to just above his ankles. Do it not being meant to be worn by someone of his stature and ethnicity he was forced to keep his tail curled about his waist, held in place by one of his hands under the shirt.

"Firstly Mr Arc I wish to apologize for how you were treated by members of this Association." Glynda spoke, her eyes staying on Jaune, without the slightest hint of judgement. "Be assured that Mr Winchester and his house are being reprimanded, and in addition I have rescinded their recent skill rank advancement."

"House? Skill rank?" Jaune asked, never having heard those terms used before.

"A house is what we call an organized collective of huntresses and huntsmen." Glynda informed him, "And skill rank is a metric we use to determine a house's potential for succeeding in a task. Higher skill ranks can accept more risky assignments."

"I don't get it." Jaune replied. "How do you figure that type of thing out? I mean do they take a test or something?"

"How it is done, I would say is not of current concern for you." Glynda commented. "I believe employment is. Am I correct?"

"Yes." Jaune replied, adding, "I can't sleep on the streets anymore, and the shops don't want... you know. So this is my last chance to find something."

"I see, and I'm rather upset that you are being forced in this line of work, bigoted fools." Glynda responded. "So in order to help place you, I need to ask some questions. Is that acceptable?"

"Place me?"

"Yes to find houses that could use someone of your abilities."

"I'm not an adventurer, I'm just... just me. Can't I just get hired out by whomever needs and extra set of hands?"

"You could, but doing such without being part of a registered house, means the Association can not be involved when there are contract disputes."

"So if I don't join a house you can't keep fucking huntresses from cheating me."

"While I don't appreciate the language, that is correct." Glynda took a moment before continuing to speak. "I can tell you are not... fond of huntresses, and I assume it's because of situations similar to what you mentioned?"

"Similar?" Jaune scoffed, "If you call getting beaten, used as bait, cheated, robbed, and molested... similar, then yeah I guess."

"I see." Jaune could easily tell Glynda was very close to loosing her temper. "Joining a house will give you recourse against such... incidents, that you bring to our attention."

"And if it's the... house that is the culprits?"

"Then they will inspected, audited, and if the allegations are true they will be disbanded, and punished as appropriate under civil law." Glynda answered. "Now will you answer my questions?"

"Okay."

"Do you have any special skills, or abilities?"

"I'm faunus, so I have night vision, improved senses of hearing and smell."

"Of course. Anything additional?"

"I'm good with locks, can carry about three times my weight in gear, and do it for extended period of time."

"Combat skills? Magic?"

"None." Jaune replied. "I'm a supporter. A pack mule, that's all I've been good for."

"I see." Glynda clasped her hands before her. "I'll be honest with you Mr Arc. With you limited skill set, I will be difficult to find you a house..."

"Figures." Jaune grumbled.

"But not impossible." Glynda continued ignoring Jaune's interruption. "I will have my staff make inquiries, and until such time as we find you a house, or exhaust all options I am granting you temporary lodging here at Beacon."

"What?"

"I will also arrange for a small daily wage for you, if you can assist my staff during the day."

"You're fucking with me!" Jaune snapped. "I'm a Kit and you're acting this nice? You're up to something! Fucking Huntresses, can't fucking..."

"Enough!" Glynda raised her voice ending Jaune's rant. "I am the Matron of this Association. I do not play games, not do I tolerate what you are insinuating!"

Jaune's ears pressed flat against his freshly cleaned hair.

"Now it would behoove you to accept this offer." Glynda spoke her voice once again calm. "But in the end the choice is ultimately yours."

(Part One)

[the-hinky-panda]

War of the Roses: Part IV

Warning: Mention of miscarriages

It’s three in the afternoon when Bill’s phone rings with a number he doesn’t recognize. He’s in the middle of cleaning the pistols he recently shot, an effort to get you out of his system. He had taken care of himself in the shower last night, kicking himself for stopping you from unbuckling his belt in the barn. He let his imagination run wild later that night, picturing your legs wrapped around his hips, his cock slowly sinking into your tight, wet heat. It took less than fifteen seconds before he came. 

The morning was just as bad, waking up with a raging hard on and the vestiges of a dream where you were in the bed beside him. It took him thirty seconds to relieve himself that time. So he did the only thing that he could and that was throwing himself into farm work. He unloaded a truck bed full of hay bales, picked up the feed store order and stacked it in the feed room. And when his muscles started getting sore, he chopped wood for two hours. By midafternoon, his energy was beginning to flag and he started cleaning guns to keep his mind and hands busy. But when the phone rang, he took a shot and answered it anyway. 

“Yeah.” 

There is silence on the other end and he reaches for the end button. But before his finger lands on it, a voice comes through. 

“Bill?” 

He doesn’t recognize your voice at first. You’ve always been soft spoken, but this is different. You’ve been crying and something twists in his chest. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

“He kicked me out,” you tell him with no warble in your voice. But the next statement is more difficult for you to get out. “The horses…I don’t know…” 

“What did he do to the fucking horses?” 

“Nothing, yet.” 

That “yet” makes him just as concerned as you are right now. You getting tossed out is bad enough to make him see red but to put animals into the mix of a human dispute, that’s just unconscionable. “Where are you right now? You safe?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. But I only have three days to find someone to take the horses. Bill, he’s going to send them to the knacker.” 

“Fucking hell.” He sits back in his chair. “How many do you have? Four, right?” 

You sniff and clear your throat. “Yeah, there’s four of them. There’s a stable in Tulsa that can take two of them because they’re therapy horses but they don’t have space for the other two.” 

“Don’t you worry about splitting them up. I’ll have a rig down there first thing in the morning to pick up all four of them. Now,” he stands up and starts putting away the cleaning kit, “what hotel are you staying in?” 

You tell him where you are and thank him in between sobs. He immediately calls his barn manager and tells him to drive the rig down to Thresher’s first thing tomorrow morning. He also tells them to throw a couple shovels and burlap bags in the back too. If he has to dig the rose bushes out himself, he will. He knows this may end the business relationship he has with Cal, but in all honesty, he doesn’t give one flying fuck. He has other weed farms; he doesn’t need one in Oklahoma. Thresher is already rich off oil and doesn’t need it either. And it’s better to end this before it even begins. 

He packs an overnight bag, locks up the house and climbs into his car. It’s a four hour drive back down to Tulsa, to the hotel name that you gave him. He spends those four hours asking himself why he’s doing this. He’s had plenty of business partners before and never paid their wives any mind. A couple of them tried to get into his bed but he never cared for the mess that it creates being involved with a married woman. But there’s something about you, something that draws him to you. 

The hotel he pulls up to is actually a motel right off the interstate. It’s in a dangerous area and the building is falling apart. This is absolutely not going to happen and he’s glad he made the trip down here tonight. The thought of you spending the night in this hellhole makes him just as angry as the horses going to the knacker. He leaves his bag in the car because he is not going to stay here tonight and neither are you. When he knocks on the door, you open it almost immediately. 

You’re still crying, eyes puffy and red. You’re in jeans and sweatshirt, no make up, and your hair is pulled back in a messy bun. You’re still the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. You immediately embrace him, pressing your face against his chest and holding on to him in a tight grip. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“I am.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll always come when you need me.” 

It’s then that he realizes, standing in the doorway of a cheap motel off the interstate in Tulsa, that he can live without seeing Cal Thresher again but he can’t live without you.

***

You’re numb. That’s the only way you can describe the feeling of walking into a suite at the Mayo with Bill. You spent the day going through the suitcases that Cal packed for you and found he had included all your clothes, the jewelry that you arrived with from your parents, and fifteen thousand dollars cash. Those were all your belongings in the world. Your credit cards and checkbook were taken. Your phone lost cell service about an hour ago. All the vehicles you drove the last six years had been part of Cal’s fleet. 

The world seems so big because you realize just how small you are. 

“Here.” Bill takes your bag out of your hand and replaces it with a glass. “Drink that.” 

You stare down into the amber liquid. Whiskey, of course. You drink it like a shot, throwing it down your throat and relishing in the burning sensation it leaves. It’s good to feel something right now. You look around the hotel room and realize it’s a suite, complete with a kitchenette, living room area, and what you assume is the bedroom further back in the space. It’s definitely a step up from where you had landed at the Oil City Motel. 

“Thank you.” You know you should expand on that simple statement. Bill needs to know the depth of the gratitude you feel for him right now. He saved your horses. He picked you up from a dangerous part of town and brought you here. You remember that moment in his car on the drive over here, when he took hold of your hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“We’re getting the rose bushes too. You, the horses, the roses, all of you are coming to KC until we figure out what to do next.” 

You play those words back in your head and the big, intimidating world gets a little smaller, a little more comforting. 

Bill brings a half-empty whiskey bottle over to you and adds more to the glass. “I told you to call me if you ever needed anything. You promised me would and you did. You kept your promise and I kept mine.” He takes a shot of whiskey straight from the bottle. “You go get a shower, watch Golden Girls or 90 Day Fiance, and get some sleep. I’ll pick you up after we get the horses.” 

Now you understand why he left his bag by the door. “You’re not staying here?” 

He gives you a slightly regretful look. “Not tonight. I’m staying down the hall.” 

“What if I want you to stay?” 

He cups your face, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone, and kisses you gently on the lips. “I would love nothing more than that, but I’m not going to have our first night together be under these circumstances.” 

The circumstance is you thinking you owe him something and you realize, he’s not exactly wrong. “Cal knows we fucked in the barn.” 

“Cal doesn’t know shit.” Bill gives you the most sinful smile. “Besides, that wasn’t fucking.” 

You give him a slightly surprised look. “It wasn’t?” 

He laughs. “No. That was just a warm-up.” He kisses you again, this time with more pressure, more want. Once again you can taste the whiskey he just drank, the smokey notes. He steps back and releases a shaky breath. “The fact you don’t know what a proper fucking feels like with a goddamn crime. One I’m going to fix. But not tonight, sweetheart.” 

You watch him leave, the door closing very quietly behind him. Your face is still warm from the whiskey and the kiss but you find yourself smiling for the first time today. How ironic it took a divorce to provide you with an example of what genuine love looks like. 

[star-farer]

well met

Summary: Connections and clones; it takes only one to be family. AU: Imperial Taglist: @kybercrystals94 @fionas-frenzy @padawancat97 @margindoodles2407 @dreamsight73 @groguandthebadbatch @comfy-vember

Comfy-vember 2024, Day 19: Thick blankets — Sunset

“Hello.”

The voice, young and gentle, draws his eyes up away from the tiles beneath his feet. He looks over his shoulder to see a girl, bathed in the warm colors of the dying day, smiling at him kindly.

His brow quirks in question, but he finds it in himself to tilt the line of his lips. A spark brightens in her face, like a heating unit switching on. She steps forward, holding out something dusty blue and folded.

“It’s going to get pretty cold soon.”

He turns, reaching one trembling hand to feel the thick blanket, coarse against his fingers. The muscles on his face stretch awkwardly around his grin. “Thanks, kid.”

And her smile explodes like a star going supernova, full-fledged and shining bright with teeth. By the Ka’ra, he knows her cheeks must ache. He’s had the pleasure of grinning like that too.

With his vode. Who are all—

He breathes in. He breathes out.

There’s something heavy making itself known in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t dare give it a name.

A warmth envelopes him, welcome as a hug. He raises his head with some surprise to see the girl slowly smoothing the blanket around his shoulders, a quiet look that makes her look too old for one so little.

When she catches him gazing at her, her lips turn crookedly in a manner too familiar to ignore. “I don’t like the cold either,” she tells him softly.

He can’t help the huff of laughter. Here he sits, a Clone Commander, exploited as a soldier, tortured as an experiment, rescued by his brothers and safe on some tropical haven of a planet, freshly de-chipped when he didn't even know about them a day ago.

And a kid is trying to make him feel better.

His heart warms to see the concern in her brown eyes, though. It's been far too long since he's been shown such kindness

“Don’t worry about me,” he reassures, careful to balance his best Commander-voice with his ori'vod-voice. He’s a little out of practice, but he thinks he does a good job of it.

She snorts — and a bolt strikes through him at how familiar it is. He racks his mind, even as she slings her legs over the ledge and sits down beside him, but comes up short of any explanation.

Crossing her arms, she mutters, not low enough to keep out of his hearing because she wants him to hear it, “That’s what you all say.”

He…honestly doesn’t know how to respond to that. He chews on words, responses, anything his mind could give him. The fact that she reminds him of…someone, doesn’t really help him either. So he turns back to the view in front of him.

Confusion keeps him silent as he watches the sun rest distorted on the horizon. The girl doesn’t speak either, her hands clasped together on her lap and her head tilted towards the crimson-gold swathing the sky and shimmering over the sea. From the corner of his eye, he sees her blond curls tumble down to hide her eyes along her temples.

Who is she?

A breeze brushes past, playing the leaves strewn on the grounds up into a rampant dance. She shifts, and—

He can’t believe he never saw this before. She’s wearing the same uniform as he does.

The uniform of a prisoner of Tantiss.

Who is she?

“You cold?”

He nearly smacks himself in the face for asking the very wrong question. He isn’t even the sort to go about questioning in circles — when he wants an answer, he gets straight to the point.

As he reprimands himself for it, the girl looks up at him with careful, considering eyes. There’s a deep complexity behind them, a hundred thoughts whirring.

He’s faced such similar scrutiny before, he’s seen eyes look at him like—

Eyes.

More specifically, a sniper’s eyes.

She smiles up at him, wide and warm, her head listing against one shoulder. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He blinks, once, twice, and pauses to really, really, look at her.

Blonde curls, brown skin, a perpetually smiling face.

He’s probably the biggest di’kut alive.

Some thought must show on his face, because her smile grows confused, her brows draw together, her nose wrinkles up, just like, well — how the kark had he missed it? — like that kriffing 99 kid he’d been stuck with on Barton IV.

“…Omega?”

She reels back with a sharp inhale, eyes wide like twinkling stars. “How do you know my name?”

And he laughs, a proper laugh from the depths of his heart, warm and full. He hasn’t laughed like this in a very long time. He's missed laughing as heartily as this.

“A certain buir of yours told me all about you,” he tells her, affection seeping into his tone with the knowledge that he’s looking at a vod’ika, strange though she seems.

“My—” she stares up at him with a flickering expression— “My buir?”

“Yeah,” he lilts, grinning wide, “’S name starts with a cresh, resh, osk…”

He nearly jolts for her dropping jaw out of fear it might fall right off her skull. “You know Crosshair?”

“I should. He saved my life.”

There’s that perplexed look again, scrunching up her nose in a way he dares to label adorable. “He never told me about anything like that.”

Honestly, he isn’t surprised. A little hurt, maybe. The way it hurts when a vod steals the last chocolate pudding cup. But he isn’t surprised

I’m gonna have to have a word with that boy, he thinks absentmindedly, scratching his beard, though a part of him is glad that he survived.

“Really?” he hums. “The audacity.”

The girl, Omega, giggles like a tiny cadet. “He is pretty audacious.”

He shrugs, draping the blanket around her shoulders with the movement. “Figured as much.”

Her laughter rings a little while longer when he grumbles out tales of being subject to the boy’s acerbic nature, making a point to keep it light and humorous for her sake. He’s always been good at regaling stories, old and new ones. He’d had to find a way to keep the spirits up in that desolate outpost after all.

When at last a lull falls between them, the sun only a sliver of gold as if the water kisses the air, she turns to him with a fond smile on her face.

“You never told me your name.”

Her tone is teasing, almost accusatory, and it feels like they’ve been old friends since time immemorial.

He chuckles as he ruffles her curls.

“Mayday, kid. The name’s Mayday.”

[aeskairo]

This scene in the anime adds a lot of interesting stuff that wasn't in the manga.....

Ogata and Yuusaku goes to a brothel.

Ogata brings up the superstition in the army that virgins cannot be hit by bullets that Yuusaku is a virgin.

Yuusaku looks uncomfortable...

Ogata then points out that Flag Bearers have the highest death rate in the army, even more than regular soldiers, and that Yuusaku's job is to run to the enemy side totally unarmed and be the first to breach their ranks.

Yuusaku looks uncomfortable and sad....

He refuses to fuck the prostitutes and leaves.

Tsurumi comes in, and he plants the idea that this must be due to Yuusaku's virtue.

It must be because his highborn-legitimate-heir blood is so much better yours, Ogata. That's why he rejected you. He's just so much better. Pure Saint Yuusaku is made of different stuff, he's got virtue flowing through his veins.... unlike you, Ogata.

So this makes Ogata determine to prove him wrong....

And of course he does....

But the thing is, we don't know Yuusaku's actual reason.

Virtue is just speculation on Tsurumi's part as a means to manipulate Ogata......

But like..... When he's not being used to manipulate Ogata, Yuusaku is a person.

Like I actually wonder if his actual reason was self-preservation or fear instead.

Yuusaku has to lead the charge while being shot at. He can't show any signs of fear and need to motivate the men. He needs to keep running forward as the men right next to him are torn to shreds by artillery fire, and he has to stay cheerful and confident.

Ogata has become good at suppressing his guilt, but Yuusaku is just as good at suppressing his emotions if not more so.

He suppresses fear.....

(When not actively charging at the enemy, he has to remain cheerful confident and enthusiastic at all times. He's the mascot and he needs to motivate the men. So even when he's just chilling out at the military base, he still needs to be enthusiastic, happy about the war.

Yuusaku himself is probably a mess under his cheerful mask, in the same way that Ogata is a mess under his emotionless mask. BTW)

Like guys.......

Do you ever think about this 21-year-old kid trying to psych himself up and take deep breaths in his tent before picking up the flag and putting on his cheerful face?

He is the obligatory product of an arranged marriage.... trapped by the weight of expectations from a long line of military commanders.

Every week he has to charge head on into gunfire, cheerfully motivating others, while the men right next to him are getting blown up into meat bits.

I wonder if he's on drugs. Takes something to calm down before picking up the flag.

He has no armor, no bulletproof vest and no gun. He's not even allowed to draw his sword to defend himself. He can't stop being the flag bearer because of his father.

The only thing keeping him safe is the idea that virgins are immune to gunfire..... he literally doesn't have anything else.

So....I wonder if he refused to lose his virginity because it was the only thing he had.

Even if it was obviously bullshit superstition, he might have wanted it to be true.....at least a little...

I wonder if anyone has explored the idea that Yuusaku might feel as cursed with his birth as Ogata does.

[bobzora]

clock strike 12

[ra-vio]

I miss nier. I have to watch the automata anime

[deoidesign]

.