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spidehpig · 6 months ago

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the crooks are out, and the streets are grey

aka a prison pen pal au

HUUUUGE fucking thank you to @ceilidho for all of the writing advice and beta reading this and just generally being a big motivation and indulging in all of my random cod thoughts lol

this is incredibly self-indulgent. tags will be updated accordingly with a warning on each chapter when necessary. i'm a big fan of ghoap being perverted violent freaks if you couldn't tell.

thanks for reading besties. sorry there isn't any direct reader x ghost interaction yet. i promise it's coming.

you can also find me on twitter

[cw implied sexual harassment, future dubcon, explicit sexual content] 18+ MDNI

AO3

Part 1

It starts with a little slip of paper shoved under the bars of his shared cell with Soap.

An official notice to inform inmates of the start of a new pen pal program the following week. Some rehabilitative bullshit about encouraging good behavior and rehabilitating prisoners on track to be released within the next few years. Ghost can’t help but roll his eyes as he crumples up the slip of paper and makes his way to the prison yard. Doesn’t give it another thought.

That is until he receives a letter. Packaged in a little envelope with the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen, addressed to the one and only Simon V. Riley: Inmate #634. The envelope had been torn open with a letter opener, read by prison staff, and searched for contraband, of course, before it made its way through the slot of his cell door. It comes in a lilac envelope and it's even adorned with a pretty little heart right next to his name scrawled in cursive.

Ghost shoves the pastry he swiped in the cafeteria from a new inmate into his mouth as he rips open the letter with mild interest. He lets out a snort when he sees that the staple holding the pages of the letter together was ripped out by whatever guard had gotten stuck with mail duty today. He knows that you’ll have already received an angry voicemail from the prison advising you that all mail to inmates must be paperclip and staple free upon arrival.

He glances over the letter with disinterest, a couple paragraphs introducing yourself and one detailing your excitement about joining the program. He only skims his way to the second page where you start to ask him questions about himself before he’s crumpling up the pages to shove under his bunk. He’ll be free of this place in a mere sixteen months; doesn’t need a bloody pen pal to encourage good behavior.

He knows that there is anger and violence rooted deep within him. On a good day, it simmers in his chest, a warm heat that lies dormant. On bad days, it burns so hot that he can feel the angry heat creep up into his throat. It makes the words that spill from his mouth cruel, and his calloused fingers twitch as he stomps his way over to the courtyard to beat the old punching bag until his shirt is soaked through with sweat and his knuckles are raw and bloody.

Not all bad days end with him wrapping his split knuckles with bandages from the infirmary. Sometimes they end with him in solitary and picking another inmate’s dried blood from underneath his fingernails. He hasn’t had a bad day like that in over a year now.

If he’s being honest with himself, it’s only because he doesn’t want to jeopardize his early release. Most of the other inmates know well enough now to leave Ghost be. The last inmate to piss Ghost off ended up in the infirmary with three broken ribs and two of his own teeth spat into his palm.

Poor sod ducks his head like a quivering dog every time he meets Ghost’s gaze now; surely won’t make the mistake of cutting in front of him in line at the cafeteria again. Ghost hasn’t been outside of a prison in the last seventeen years but he can’t imagine a civilian would try to swipe food from his plate or pick a fight with him just to see if they could win it.

So he lies through his teeth at every psych evaluation. Tells the doctors that the exercises they suggested are helping him manage his anger. He has a feeling they don’t quite believe him, but he hasn’t had an episode in over a year to justify their reservations. And since they don’t question his ability to rehabilitate into civilian life, he tells himself that he’ll be fine on the outside. All he has to do is keep to himself until Johnny gets released eight months after him. He just needs to behave for another year and he doesn’t see how writing letters would make any difference.

He had thought that if he just ignored the letters they would eventually stop coming, but despite his obvious reluctance to partake in the program, the letters keep coming. Every last one in a pretty lilac envelope, notably staple free since the first one. He gleans little from her letters. Some young bird that signed up for this pen pal exchange. She’s twenty-one and has an interest in criminology.

Ghost decides that he hates her for it.

Each letter gets shoved under the bunk; most of the time he doesn’t even bother to open and read them. He rolls his eyes when Soap whines and begs to trade pen pals with him. Apparently the poor mutt got stuck with some seventy-four year old retired veteran and he doesn’t think it's fair that Ghost got paired with a young woman.

It isn’t until he receives yet another letter from his unwanted pen pal, this time addressed from another country, that something finally makes him stop in his tracks. The bird is apparently studying abroad and when he opens the envelope, a flimsy polaroid floats down into his lap. He doesn’t bother to read the newest letter and instead snatches the picture up between his thick fingers. He can’t help the groan that escapes his lips the second he flips the polaroid picture over.

Ghost hardly even looks at the sweet smile and bright blue ocean behind her. No, that’s not what catches his attention. His gaze immediately flicks down to the swell of her breasts taking up half of the image. What would be an innocent selfie to most might as well be a page ripped straight from a playboy magazine to Ghost. Clearly taken at the beach after a swim in the ocean, sweat and ocean water glistening on your skin, and Ghost can see the peaks of your nipples poking through your thin bikini top.

And fuck is that enough for him. He hasn’t had a woman in, well, ever, and the guards keep confiscating his playboy magazines, so this will have to do. A low grunt escapes his chest as he reaches down to palm his cock that’s now twitching to attention. He pauses to make sure Soap is still snoring, loudly , in the bunk above him before he reaches down to grope at his stiffening prick. Unzips himself from his prison issued track pants and palms at his stiffening cock over the thin fabric of his briefs.

He hisses between his teeth when he dips his hand under the band of his briefs and the rough skin of his palm tugs against the sensitive skin of his cock. Has to yank his hand back and spit into his palm before wrapping his thick fingers around the base of his cock. His other hand grips the picture of you between his fingertips as he pulls his foreskin back to reveal his swollen tip already leaking precum. It twitches in his hand as another glob of precum leaks down his prick.

He has half a mind to wake Soap up and shove his cock down the boy’s throat. If he fucks his throat deep enough he could pretend it’s the tight heat of your cunt clenching around his cock while he laps at one of the nipples peaking through your bikini.

Ghost’s fantasy is shattered the second the little shit sleeping above him wakes with a loud snort. He watches Soap’s head peek over the side of his bunk, pretty blue eyes clouded with sleep as his disheveled mohawk dangles over the metal bunk.

“Yeh could’ve asked for a helping hand yaknow that, Ghost. Yeh know I’d—” Soap’s voice cuts off abruptly, eyes narrowing on the polaroid clutched in Ghost’s hand and the other wrapped around his prick.

”Whatcha got there, Ghost?” Soap drawls, accent still thick from sleep.

”Fuck off, Johnny,” Ghost grunts as he looks back down at your picture and gives his cock another stroke.

No use in deterring his mutt once his sight is set on a bone though. He feels the bunk shake and squeak as Soap scrambles down the ladder, the pervert already tenting his boxers as he crawls into Ghost’s bed.

”I said fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost grits his teeth and clutches your picture to his chest. Trying desperately to reimagine the swell of your tits pressed against his chest when you finally sink down on his cock. But Soap is relentless. His needy slut straddles Ghost’s thighs with a smirk on his face.

And fuck it, his boy is gagging for it, he might as well. He doesn’t acknowledge Soap’s incessant teasing and instead fists a hand through his soft mohawk before shoving the brat’s head between his legs.

A low growl escapes his chest as the man’s lips wrap around his throbbing cock. And fuck, does his mouth feel good, tight and wet as his soft lips slide down Ghost’s length, throat swallowing around him. He loses himself in the feel of Soap’s practiced mouth, eyes only snapping open when Soap lets out a deep moan. Before he can even think, the palm of his hand is connecting with Soap’s cheek, hard . It draws a low moan from Soap’s throat which only serves to irritate Ghost more.

”Shut up,” Ghost snaps and pushes Soap’s head down on his cock until he feels the man flinch and gag around his prick. Usually he loves to hear the whorish sounds that fall from his boy’s pretty lips but right now, he’s trying to imagine the way you’d cry out and beg as he inches his cock into the tight heat of your cunt. Ghost slaps his boy across the cheek again when Soap lets out a low growl and scrapes his teeth on the underside of his cock.

Soap seems to get the message, his moans and growls slowly quiet, swirling his tongue around Ghost’s swollen glands before sinking down until his nose is buried in Ghost’s pubic hair. Ghost loses himself in the wet heat of Soap’s throat once more, eyes rolling back as his head knocks back against his pillow, your pretty smile contorting itself into a cry as he bullies his cock into your cunt. His hips buck and bruise the back of Soap’s throat with every thrust while he dreams of fucking your pretty cunt full of his cum. He cums with a snarl on his lips and Johnny gagging around him. Holds Soap down on his cock as he reaches down to squeeze at his balls one last time before ripping the boy off his cock with a sputtering gasp.

Soap is immediately scrambling up the bed, grinding his prick against the swell of Ghost’s thigh.

”C’mon, Ghost, lemme see, just a peek I swear that’s all I need,” Soap whines, frantically grinding his cock against Ghost’s leg. Ghost blinks as the bliss from his orgasm melts away, the bunk creaking from the force of Soap’s desperate thrusts, the man panting and grunting above him.

He languidly flips your photo between his fingers, any streak of possessiveness gone now, as long as it’ll get his mutt to stop humping his leg faster so he can get some sleep.

“Ah, fuck , Ghost, looks bonnie, don’t she,” Soap pants as his eyes flit over your bikini photo, the grind of his hips losing their rhythm for a moment.

“Bet ‘er ass hasn’t been fucked yet,” Soap groans.

”Make ‘er take us both.”

”Bet she tastes sweet.”

”Pretty thing.”

Ghost barely registers Soap’s babbling above him, just grabs his ass and guides his hips against his thigh until Soap is cumming in his briefs with a low moan. When the boy finally calms down enough to catch his breath, he pulls the cum soaked briefs off of his boy and tosses them across the cell before pulling the mutt to his chest as they both doze off.

Ghost wakes annoyed, drenched in sweat and cum and Soap snoring loudly against his neck. The little shit has the audacity to grumble and pout when he makes Soap go sleep in his own bunk. When he hears Soap’s start to snore, he sits up, stealing Soap’s pencil and a spare sheet of paper. He starts scribbling words back to you. The first letter he’s responded to. His handwriting is ugly and near illegible, but he thinks you should be able to read most of it. He hangs his arms out of the bars of his cell and whistles at the guard stationed down the hall. Shoves his letter to you in the guard’s hand and grunts at him to send it to his bird.

The guard, Andrews, he thinks, scoffs snatching the letter from Ghost’s fingertips before banging on the cell door.

”MacTavish! You got a letter for your lovebird too?”

Ghost groans, already prepared for the bitchfest that’s about to happen.

Soap awakes with a loud snort, head snapping up over the edge of his bunk and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.”

“Aye fuck off, you limp dick prick,” Soap growls and scrambles down the rickety bunk to press the length of his body against the cell bars as he curses the guard that taunted him. A litany of Scottish curses fall from his lips as Soap presses his forehead to the bars and goads the guard into approaching their shared cell. The little spitfire has himself so worked up he’s pacing the length of their cell and spewing insults at the guards on duty.

“I know yer playing favorites, Andrews. Think yer funny giving me some old bastard, don’t yeh?” Soap hollers into the hallway and slams a fist against the bars of their cell, pressing his forehead against the bars once again, growling and swearing some more when Andrews takes a step back, barking out a harsh laugh. Ghost can practically see the metaphorical fur on Soap’s hind spike up at that, just a moment before he spits at the guard’s feet. Andrews, the scrawny little fucker, lurches forward to swat at Soap’s fists clenched around the bars of their cell with his baton.

“You better back up and watch that mouth of yours Mactavish, or it’ll be another two days in solitary for you,” Andrews snaps at Soap and shoots a knowing directly at Ghost.

And oh does Ghost hate when Soap gets sent to solitary. Can’t use his boy’s holes when he’s locked up on the other side of the prison. The rough drag of his own fist just can’t compete with the tight heat of Johnny’s throat or arse. Especially now that he’s got a bird back home to think about. Ghost grips the back of Soap’s sweat soaked shirt and yanks him back from the cell bars, grunting at him to give it a fuck rest. Ghost retreats to his bunk when Soap finally cools off, watching as Soap flops down onto the chair at their shared desk and starts to angrily scribble in his journal, occasionally grumbling to himself under his breath. He settles back against his pillow, content with thinking about his new bird on the outside until the guards release them for breakfast. He almost feels bad about not writing to you sooner. Poor girl tired of her letters going unanswered, you really were just begging for his attention when you sent a violent inmate a photo of your tits now, weren’t you?

#cod #ghoap drabble #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x you #soap x you #ghoap x you #ghoap #ghost x soap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #my fic

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chion3spid3r · 5 months ago

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who am I talking to ?

pairings : aged!up!e42!miles x fem!reader

warnings : smut, minors dni, oral stimulation, graphic description, dirty talks, intensity, profanity, slang, intense emotional and physical desire, dominant!miles, emotional vulnerability

summary : you fell for the prowler at the first place

a/n : I did a second chapter only to do a smut chapter for those who want to read it and to let the minors see the first place. it’s literally a full smut chapter with a AGED UP MILES.

wc : 0.8k

miles captured your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming hungrily over your body as he walked you backwards towards the bed. you moaned into his mouth, fingers tangling in his thick curls to pull him ever closer as desire coiled hot and tight in your belly.

"wanted this for so damn long," he growled against your lips before trailing scorching open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. "thinkin' 'bout you, dreamin' 'bout you…fuck, y/n."

you arched into him with a whimper as his mouth found that sensitive spot below your ear. "then take whatchu want, baby," you breathed, tugging lightly at his hair. "i'm all yours."

a low, possessive sound rumbled from miles' chest at your words. he pulled back just enough to yank his t-shirt off over his head, revealing that tantalizing expanse of smooth brown skin and rippling muscle that you'd admired from afar for months. your eyes raked shamelessly over him as he surged forward again, pushing you firmly onto the bed and settling between your thighs.

"you have no idea what you do t'me," he growled, grinding his hardened length against your core in a delicious tease that had you arching desperately into him. his mouth was hot and demanding on yours, hands skimming over your curves before impatiently tugging at the hem of your camisole. "off, now."

you complied eagerly, sitting up just long enough to strip the flimsy garment over your head. miles immediately took advantage, his calloused palms sliding up your sides before cupping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in a way that had you moaning into the heated kiss. one thick thigh pressed insistently between your own, the delicious friction making you shudder and roll your hips wantonly against him.

"fuck, you're incredible," miles husked in your ear as you trembled beneath his skilled touch. "so gorgeous, so perfect…gonna make you feel so good, mami."

his teeth grazed along the cord of your neck as his thumb circled one peaked nipple teasingly. you writhed under the sweet torment, fingers scrabbling at the hard planes of his back. "miles, please," you whined. "need you, need t'feel you…"

he pulled away just enough to smirk down at you, heavy-lidded eyes blazing. "yeah? tell me whatchu need, then. don' be shy now."

emboldened by his heated stare, you arched shamelessly against him as you spoke. "need you inside me, baby. wanna feel you stretchin' me so goddamn deep." the words seemed to spur miles on, a low groan tearing from his throat as his cock jerked against your thigh. "been thinkin' 'bout that pretty dick fuckin' me for far too long," you added breathlessly.

"fuuuuck," he groaned, capturing your mouth in another scorching kiss as he fumbled between you to shove his sweats and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing length. you reached between your bodies to wrap your hand around the thick, silky hard heat of him and miles swore again, hips stuttering as you slowly stroked his impressive size.

"gotta get you outta these, baby," he panted, easing back to tug frantically at your shorts and panties until every scrap of clothing was shed. once you were deliciously bare before him, miles drank in the sight with a look of pure, ravenous hunger. "god, i'm the luckiest bastard alive."

then he was on you again, his big body covering yours as you wrapped your legs shamelessly around his waist, allowing him to grind that delicious steel rod against your slick, aching folds. you keened shamelessly at the first tantalizing glide of his cock parting your wetness and miles let out a strangled sound at the hot, snug friction.

"look atchu," he rasped hoarsely, eyes raking over your face, your heaving chest, every inch of you laid bare for his hungry gaze. "so goddamn needy f'me, ain't you princessa?"

you nodded frantically, hands roaming everywhere you could reach, desperate to touch and feel as much of him as possible. when he canted his hips at just the right angle, perfectly aligning that thick head with your dripping entrance, you choked out a garbled plea. "please, miles, need you inside, need you t'—"

he cut you off by surging forward with one powerful stroke, burying himself to the hilt in your scorching wet heat. you cried out at the exquisite stretch, the fullness of him splitting you so deliciously wide, and miles buried his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own guttural groan of pleasure. you clutched at his back, legs and arms wrapping around him vice-like, fingernails biting crescent moons into his sweat-slicked skin.

"holy shit, ma," miles' voice was rough and wrecked as he panted harshly against your shoulder. "so goddamn tight, ungh…wrappin' so perfectly 'round my cock…"

as if to emphasize his words, he drew his hips back slowly before snapping forward again, the lewd sound of skin-on-skin making you whine. his pace quickly built into a feverish, relentless rhythm that left you clinging to him, utterly undone.

"that's right," he growled in your ear as he slammed into you again and again. "take it, baby, take every inch…been waitin' too damn long f'this pussy."

the deliciously filthy words combined with the exquisite pistoning of his thick cock drilling into your dripping, greedy depths quickly had you hovering on the razor's edge. miles seemed t'sense it somehow, his lips crushing against yours hungrily t'swallow your desperate cries, his big hand roughly palming your breast as his sweat-slick body slid against yours.

"c'mon, mami," he ordered, his tone low and commanding, eyes molten as they bored into you. "wanna feel you squeezin' my dick so fuckin' hard."

then, almost cruelly, he shifted his angle so that the thick, blunt head of his cock slammed perfectly into your swollen, oversensitized front wall. the burst of electric sensation that jolted through you was enough to shatter the last threads of your control. you went taut as a bowstring beneath him, back bowing as your orgasm ripped through you in exquisite, devastatin'ly intense waves.

"miles!" you cried out, voice breaking as the pleasure seemed to fracture into a thousand different points, unbearably bright behind your tightly clenched eyelids. you convulsed around the driving length of him, velvet walls quivering and fluttering as you rode out every last shocking burst of release.

through the blinding haze of euphoria, you vaguely registered miles' harsh groan of gratification mingling with your own, his hips jackhammering into you with wild abandon as he ruthlessly chased his own climax.

"fuck, yes, take it, take it all," he rasped, face contorting with pleasure when you instinctively clenched 'round him again. "mierda, y/n, your pussy…so goddamn perfect…"

his rhythm soon grew erratic, sloppy, his abs flexing with the effort as he drove into your shuddering, over-sensitized body. then, with one final punishing thrust, miles slammed to the hilt and let out a guttural roar, his release tearing through him in hot, pulsing bursts. you whimpered at the incredible sensation of being filled so completely, running your nails down his straining back as he emptied himself inside you with a string of breathless spanish curses.

after several long, trembling moments, miles finally slumped over you, pressing you into the mattress beneath his solid weight.

as you both collapsed into a heap of sweaty, shuddering limbs, breathless and spent, you couldn't help but revel in the afterglow of the most intense, carnal experience of your life. his heart pounded against your back, and his gasps turned into soft, reassuring whispers.

"i'm so glad we finally—uh, i mean, i've been wantin' to do that for a long time," miles managed to squeeze out, a shy smile playing on his lips.

you traced the lines of his sweat-dampened features with your fingertips, the weight of his body feeling like a comforting blanket wrapped around you both. "i know, mi amor. it's been too long, but it was worth the wait. and now we can—we can do this again."

a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. "damn, y/n. we're gonna do this a whole lot more." he whispered before leaning in for another searing kiss, the taste of sweat, passion, and desire lacing their mouths as they savored the moment. you chuckled “wow relax, amor, you’re not even officialy my boyfriend”

Miles' eyes widened at your words, but then he grinned widely. "That's just it, mami," he said, stroking your cheek gently. "Why wait for what's already here, huh?"

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a new lightness in your heart. "I guess you're right, you’re mine from now on" you murmured, wrapping your legs around him once more.

With that, you kissed him deeply, your lips fused together in a passionate embrace that spoke volumes. As the world around you seemed to fade away, you knew one thing was certain: with Miles by your side, life would never be boring or predictable again.

#ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤chione’s delivery #miles morales fanfiction #earth 42 prowler #earth 42 miles morales smut #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales smut #smut #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv miles morales #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #atsv smut

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ohbo-ohno · 1 year ago

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don't leave me locked in your heart (chap 1) - ghost x soap x reader

summary: Soap sees you dancing at a bar and decides you'd make the perfect anniversary present for Ghost, so he tempts you into going home with him one night and simply… doesn't let you leave in the morning.

word count: 11.9k

cw: NONCON!!!! dark!!! noncon somnophilia, kidnapping, noncon gags and bondage, rough sex, oral sex, the sex goes from consensual to dubcon to noncon, first chapter is almost entirely soap/reader

chapter 2/2 here, read on ao3, see the pinterest board

You've been dancing with the same man for the last three drinks. You haven't seen his face yet - you're a bit scared to turn around at this point, having built him up in your head so much that you're expecting no less than a modern Adonis - but his hands are rough and confident, and he certainly knows how to move his hips against yours. He's got some sort of sixth sense for how to drive you the most insane to the beat of every song, and you can only hope you have the same effect on him (which if the hardness against the small of your back is anything to go by, you do).

Every time you dip off the dance floor for another drink, he's right there waiting when you get back. You never see him, can't figure out which of the writhing bodies he must be, but within less than a minute of being back with your refill his hands are running up your hips again.

You might not know it was the same man if he didn't have the most distinct scent you've ever smelt on someone. Cigarette smoke, and a clashing air of what has got to be two separate colognes - wood and pine but also lemon and... you want to say basil. Regardless, it's distinct and strong, even in the packed crowd. All he has to do is tuck you into him long enough for you to inhale once and you know your partner's back.

You figure you'll see if he wants to go home with you. In a few more songs.

For now, you keep dancing. Hips grinding into his along with the heavy bass of the music, free hand following both of his as they track up your stomach, rolling your face into his cheek where his chin is hooked over your shoulder, eyes shut as you lose yourself in the movement and the music.

At the end of the song you quickly down the rest of your drink, eager to have both hands free, and pass it off onto the tray of some poor waiter who's decided to cut through the crowd instead of going around.

The man behind you straightens again as the song changes, his movements slowing to match the new tempo, chin grazing the back of your head now (and oh the idea of how big he must be sends a shiver up your spine).

You place your hands on the outside of his thighs, feel the rough denim tight around his muscular legs and dig your nails in. His chest rumbles against your back and his next grind is harsher, so you drag your nails up, up, up, stroking his sides, his shoulders, and finally wrapping your hands around the back of his neck.

He bends down a bit, for your sake, and tucks his face into your neck. You feel lips moving over the column of your throat, tongue and teeth skimming the sensitive skin for just a second.

You hum, the buzz settled over your brain making everything feel so lush and good and explore with your hands for a bit. You don't have much range of motion, but through just a bit of searching you figure out he's got a mohawk, one just grown out enough for you to wrap your fingers in and pull. Which, of course, you do.

Your mystery man lets out a groan, one that you can't hear but can feel as he bites down and shakes his head, just a bit. The animalistic movement tugs a high whine out of your chest, and the whole process repeats again - each tug harsher, each bite stronger. You worry you'll soak right through your panties at the rate the two of you are going.

Two songs later, your partner growing increasingly touchy as you stroke his hair and neck, you're spun around suddenly. You stumble a bit, teetering on your sky high heels, but his arms grip just beneath your ribs to steady you. You glance up sharply, eyes narrowing.

The first thing you see is a smirk.

He's handsome, your partner. Certainly no Adonis - he's far too... rough around the edges for that - but an undeniably good looking man. His mohawk is a deep brown, matching scruff on his cheeks (not enough to be a beard but enough to scratch against your skin), dark blue eyes that crinkle at the edges, thick and dark eyebrows, a strong jaw and a strong nose. All handsome pieces that fit into a puzzle just slightly off on this man, like a grid moved one unit to the left. His nose has a bump on it that you can only assume is from being broken one too many times, a scar bisects the edge of his left eyebrow and stretches almost to his eye, and his eyes are dark with an unmistakable hunger where they bore into yours.

He's just your type.

You let yourself go a little loose, lean more of your weight into his hands and rest yours against his pecs. Your nails dig in just a bit, to see if there's any give. There isn't much - he must be muscular under the tight black shirt he's wearing. You glance down quickly, to see if maybe you can get a peek at his physique, and sure enough his shirt rides up just enough that you can see a sliver of taut muscle. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you drag your eyes back to his.

"Hi, lovie," the man says, cocky grin on his lips as he strokes up to your ribs and down again. A little girlish giggle bubbles in your throat, and you tell yourself it's the alcohol that makes the cheesy nickname work.

"Hey yourself," you murmur back, equally cheesy. It must work for him as well as it did for you, considering how much his smile grows.

He has fucking dimples. Dear lord.

He dips his head down to you, tugging your body further into his and moving his hips to the faster beat of the new song. You're almost resting against him, his thick thigh squeezed between your legs and your weight pressed against his chest. Still, you do your best to gyrate along with him.

"'M Johnny," he says, forehead pressed against yours, eye contact still unbroken.

You breathe out your name in return, hips jutting against the thickness of his thigh where it rests against your aching core. He repeats your name, then pushes his leg up just a bit more with a smirk on his lips. You tip forward a bit, biting his chest through his shirt in response.

He only groans, one hand dropping to the small of your back to force you into a deeper arch.

"Want you to come home with me tonight, lass. You wan' that too?" His accent - Scottish, it's like some angel shaped him perfectly for you - has thickened as your dance continued. His head dips to your throat again, mouthing at the think skin just below your ear. He keeps speaking before you can answer his question, almost muttering to himself at this point. "Promise I'll take good care of you, give you the best night of your life, give you everythin' you've ever wanted. That sound good, baby?"

"Jo-Johnny," you gasp out, hand weakly patting at his chest as your grinding hips bring you closer and closer to a peak you're not sure you want to reach in the middle of the dance floor. "Please, please take me home with you?"

His breath hitches right beneath your ear, then you feel his lips stretch into a smile, feel teeth pressed against you. "Yeah? Want me to take you and fuck you good, huh, lovie?"

You let out a little whine, tugging at his hair as you continue to rut against him, becoming more and more uncoordinated as his hand presses harder against your spine to encourage you.

"Hm, how about you go ahead and come for me now, lass? A little warm up, to show you how good tonight'll be." You keen plaintively at the words, tucking your head into his neck to hide your face, and he rumbles against you. "Yeah, just like that. C'mon, come for me pretty girl."

He slips a hand up your dress, the one not keeping you in an arch, and his finger dips confidently past your panties to tweak your swollen clit. His breathing grows heavier against you, but his fingers don't falter, strumming at you over and over until you go stiff with a full body shudder. You bite down onto his neck to keep from crying out, but he doesn't bother to smother the deep groan from his chest.

Before you've fully recovered, Johnny's pulling you off the dance floor, hand locked around your elbow to keep you from falling. Your knees nearly knock together as you try to keep up with him, still more than a little dazed.

This isn't like you. You've always been hyper selective with the men you take home, never gone out without telling someone, certainly never let anyone get you off in public. But as you follow this Scot out of the bar, vision hazy from the alcohol and the orgasm, you can't find a single piece of you that worries this might not be the right choice. Every part of you clambers for more of him, and you're not in any mood to deny yourself. Surely you've earned a bit of reckless fun.

Johnny glances over his shoulder, his dopey smile breaking you out of your thoughts. You can't help but smile back, snuggling into him when he tucks you under his arm as you finally step into the cool night air.

-----

You thrash your head against the door, eyes rolled back in ecstasy and mouth dropped open as Johnny licks desperately at your cunt, lacy black panties left loose around one ankle.

He's almost nasty about it, hand gripping your thigh so tightly you know there'll be pretty finger-shaped bruises come morning, slobbering so much that you can't tell how much of the wetness between your legs is your slick and how much is his spit. His head is ducked beneath your dress so you can't see his expression, but you can feel his moans and groans against your core. He's got to be just as into it as you are, if the thrusting motion of his hips is anything to go by.

He's driving you insane. Two fingers buried deep inside you, thrusting as quickly as his tongue flicks over your clit, leaving you panting and quivering. Every few moments he wraps his teeth very lightly around your clit, gives the bud a quick but soft squeeze and rumbles deep in his throat, and every time you shout with pleasure. He moans along with you, pulling his fingers out fully to bury his tongue in your hole, groaning again as he sucks down as much of your taste as he can. When you give a sharp yank of his hair in response he's quick to stuff you again - three fingers this time - and go back to sucking on your clit like it's his favorite candy.

It doesn't take long for him to get you off. His clever tongue, the punishing pace of his fingers, and the evidence of his own desperation have you coming less than five minutes into the whole ordeal, loud moans spilling through slack lips, uncaring of thin walls or anyone unfortunate enough to be in the hallway.

Once he deems you finished he leans back on his heels, grinning up at you with a mixed expression of pride and smugness, jaw and lips absolutely soaked from his ministrations.

"You taste delicious, lass. Can't wait to do that again, but I need my cock in you soon or I might fuckin' die," he chuckles. You can't believe he's capable of being so nonchalant when you're not sure you could form a full sentence in your current state, especially considering the very obvious bulge in the front of his jeans, the one he finally grinds his hand on when he catches you looking.

You hum a bit, running a hand through his mohawk and scratching your nails lightly across his scalp. His eyes drift shut and he leans into the touch, hips rutting into his own hand, the big scary Scotsman made soft by a few pets. You don't feel so thrown off by your inability to speak anymore.

He stands after a few moments, and you're reminded of how big he is. Without your heels you just come up to his shoulders, and his shoulders themselves are wider than your body. You could hide behind this man, completely invisible, and it makes you wetter than you would've ever imagined.

"C'mon, darling," he grunts, locking his hands beneath your thighs and confidently lifting you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, luxuriating in his warmth as he presumably moves the two of you to his room. You kiss up his throat, sucking little love bites into his tanned flesh and smirking at the responding squeeze of his hands against you.

Johnny drops you rather unceremoniously onto his bed, and you can't help but laugh a bit as you bounce. He steps away for just a moment to turn a lamp resting on the bedside table on, then goes to turn off the overhead light so you're both bathed in a warm glow. You watch the way his jeans hug his ass as he moves, then can't move your eyes back to his in time as he moves around.

He smiles at you, the arrogant man. "Likin' the view, hen?"

You just leans back on your elbows, humming a note in your throat as you try and lay as seductively as possible in your rucked up dress.

His smile is one of pure sin as he steps back to the edge of the bed and tugs his shirt off before reaching down to undo his belt. You stare for a moment before wiggling out of the tight dress you'd worn, blindly throwing it across the room.

His eyes light up when he sees you weren't wearing a bra, a groan bubbling out of his chest as he reaches to paw at your tit with one hand and continues to undo his belt with the other. He hardly gives you a chance to look at him (more accurately, the show he's giving with that fucking belt) as he crawls on top of you, fingers twisting harshly at the nipple he's already got a hold of.

He dips his head down to yours for a kiss, and you gladly give it to him. You feel your slight nervousness disappear as he reciprocates your desperation through he kiss, lips eager and tongue searching. He's drooling against you, spit dribbling into your mouth as he grinds against your stomach and plucks at your nipple.

You whine high in your throat, writhing beneath him. The tug at your breast begins to hurt as he pinches and pulls, but you grow all the more slick between your thighs.

After what feels like an eternity of the most erotic make-out session you've ever experienced, you clumsily drag a hand up to push at his forehead so you can get a deep breath in.

Before you can really even pull away, his free hand shoots up to pin your wrist beside your head, fingers tight around the delicate bones as he nips punishingly at your lips.

There's a part of you - buried beneath the lust-driven haze, probably - that gets a little freaked out over his tight hold. But the part of you in control, the horny part, loves being pinned and moans high in your throat.

A moment later Johnny pulls away from your lips, staring deep into your eyes. He seems to be looking for something, but you can't do much more than blink up at him in the state he's left you. After he's found whatever it is he wanted, he smiles down at you and dips quickly to land kisses all over your face.

You giggle again, body cooling just enough for you to feel more in control as his hands move to rest beside your head. "Johnny," you laugh as he nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

"Yeah, lovie?" he murmurs, smile audible in his voice.

You hiccup a bit when his hands come to rest on your breasts, cupping them and running his thumbs across the undersides. "Johnny, need you," you hum.

"Hm?" He murmurs, shifting so he's kneeling above your torso, focused on your tits now instead of your face. "Whatcha need from me? Huh? Need me to play with these pretty nipples some more?" He leans down, nipping playfully at your hard peaks as you beging to squirm. He moves from one to the other, driving you mad with the sharp clip of his teeth and the warm wetness of his tongue.

"No-ooo," you gasp out at a particularly hard bite. "Need- need your- " You're cut off when he pinches both of nipples at once, twisting them and pulling up until the spark of pain pushes just past pleasurable. "Ah!"

"What was that, lassie?" With tears blurring your vision, you swear his smirk is mean this time. "I can't give you what you want if I don't know what it is." He lets go of your left breast, reaching up to give you a few little taps on your cheek, enough to rattle your brain. "So, what'll it be, lovie? What do you need from me?"

"C-cock, Johnny, need your cock," you groan, knees hitching around his hips and torso writhing as you try to free your throbbing nipple from his captive hold.

He grins down at you, loosens his fingers and strokes over the painful bud at your long whine. "There we go, sweetheart. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Johnny shifts his grip to your armpits, and all you can do is blink a bit in shock as he hauls you up and puts you where he wants you. Which is, evidently, leaning against the few flat pillows he's got at the top of his bed. He mutters to himself as he lays you out, calloused hands spreading your knees and pushing your ankles up, up, up, only stopping when you whine at the stretch.

"Wanna watch your face the first time - can't wait to get in that tight pussy, love. Can see you clenching on air from here, you poor thing. Just need something to stuff you, yeah? Need a thick cock for that pretty little cunt to squirt on? Hm? You gonna be be good and let me give you what you need, baby?"

His slew of filthy words drag you deeper and deeper under. By the time you'd made the walk to his place the buzz you'd gotten at the bar had almost entirely worn off (enough for you to even seriously question your choice for a moment), but you feel drunker now than you have all night.

Johnny reaches over once you're settled where he wants you, tugging the bedside table's drawer open and pulling out a small silver packet. You're momentarily stunned as he pulls the condom on, unable to believe that you were about to let this man - this stranger - fuck you without protection.

The thought flies out of your head when he leans back over you, hands stroking tenderly up the outside of your thighs and to your ribs, then back down again, a slow tease you only manage to handle a few seconds of.

"Johnny," you whine, reaching up to tug his face closer to you. He indulges you with a smile, hands stroking your inner thighs as he teases you with chaste kisses across your lips.

"You ready for me, baby?" He breathes against you, forehead against yours and eyes as intense as they've been all night.

You keen high in your throat, arching your back to thrust your pussy just that much more forward as the head of his cock brushes your clit. "Johnny," you repeat. "Need you. Please."

His smile only grows. "Anything for you, lovie."

You hadn't gotten a good look at it, but you can tell now that Johnny's cock is thick. You gasp and moan in tandem with him as the head spears you open, the burn of the stretch spurring you into humping what little he's got stuffed into you.

Johnny grunts, one hand smacking against the headboard and he other squeezing your thigh as he pushes his way inside, not giving you any time to adjust to the monstrosity his cock seems to be.

When his balls finally meet the backs of your thighs just moments later, you both let out loud groans. His head falls back and through the haze of your lust you admire his naked chest, leaning forward as much as you can to rake your hands through the small amount of hair there. A pair of dog tags rest high up, just below the hollow of his throat, and you give the necklace a little tug, trying to get him to move.

He hisses through his teeth, suddenly yanking himself almost entirely out of you. He stays there for a moment, just the tip of the tip still buried in your heat, and looks into your eyes. Again, like he's looking for something, but you have no idea what. If you did you'd show him immediately, you'd do whatever you needed to get him to fuck you in this moment.

And again, a moment later he seems to have found whatever he wanted. His lips twitch up and he hunches over you a bit, the hand not on the headboard moving up to the crease of your thigh.

"Ready?" He whispers, eyes darkened with the same lust you feel overtaking you.

All you can do is nod.

Your head barely makes the movement back up before he's slamming into you, knocking the breath out of you and your whole body back into the pillows. He's immediately relentless, animalistic thrusts that pound at your most sensitive spots.

You let out a wail, admittedly a little loud for an apartment, and the hand that was resting on the headboard snaps down to cover your mouth. His wild eyes meet yours, and Johnny growls low in his throat, baring his teeth as he pace quickens even more.

"God, wish I could hear you scream, love. Wish it more than anythin'. But we can't be gettin' a noise complaint, huh?" he says between huffs of breath. It gratifies you to know he's just as affected by this as you are. Your mouth opens beneath his palm and you lave your tongue out, stroking across the lines and callouses.

The action draws a deep groan from his chest and he straightens up, hand still over your mouth and pace not slowing a bit. His eyes are transfixed on where he's plowing into you, and after a moment of staring he ducks his head a bit and spits where the two of you meet, making the whole ordeal even messier.

The visual makes you moan against his hands, your own fingers squeezes desperately around his wrist as your singular hold on reality.

Johnny smiles at you, a cocky man who knows exactly how good he's fucking you. "Yeah, love? That feel good?" All you can do is nod, hardly able to hear him past the blood rushing in your ears and the squelching sound of your fucking. "Gonna come for me, then? Show me how good I make ya feel?"

You whine a desperate sound in your throat and tap your fingers urgently against his wrist, well aware of the fact that you very rarely come without at least some stimulation on your clit. Johnny's hand shifts to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your lips.

"P-please, Johnny," you gasp out, eyes wet and wide. "Need- need you to touch my clit, please?"

Johnny's head drops to your shoulder as he moans low and loud. His lips shift to that sensitive spot below your ear as his hand moves to slide the heel of his hand over your clit. "Fuckin' love to hear you beg, lovie. Can't get enough o' it."

The added stimulation of his rough grinds against your bud combined with the continued pace of his thrusts has you coming in what must be record time, every muscle tensing and a sharp "Ah!" tearing out of your throat as Johnny fucks you through it.

He doesn't cover your mouth this time, just leans his cheek heavily against yours and breaths in all the noises you can't trap. His free hand forces your knee down to the bed when you start to almost fight the strength of your climax. Your walls squeeze him so tightly he'd have been forced out of you had he not already been forcing himself in.

"God fucking damn it, lass, you're choking my cock," he groans, accent growing thicker the more he sinks into his own pleasure. "Such a good fuckin' girl, fuck."

"Yes, yes, feels so good, Johnny, so good," you babble thoughtlessly, feeling out of your mind with pleasure as the relentless pressure against your clit continues even after your orgasm.

"Yeah?" His voice is unsteady now, thrusts a little bit sloppy as he nears his own peak and you go limp beneath him. "You goin' cock drunk on me, lass? Huh? Yer losin' yer goddamn head on my dick, fuck, I'm not gonna last, love."

His hands move to your hips, thrusting you down at the same time he thrusts up, and you cry out in ecstasy, overstimulated and losing all ability to think past the massive cock bruising your pussy.

"Jo-Johnny!" you cry out, reaching another peak just on the tail of the last one, shocked by your own body. You jerk underneath him, nails leaving bright red lines down his pecs when you drag them violently down his torso.

His last few thrusts are the harshest yet, prolonging your sudden orgasm and bringing him to his own as he finally stills balls-deep inside you, letting out a deep groan into the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck.

The two of you lay there for a moment, slick with sweat and panting against each other as he slowly goes soft inside you. Johnny's nearly gone limp, and his weight is heavy in a comforting way against you, even if his hips spread yours just enough to strain your muscles.

He starts to move again after a moment, little aborted thrusts accompanied by whines and groans from him as he overstimulates the both of you. You reach a hand up to push at his forehead when it all verges on too much for you, but he's too out of it to realize and just keeps moving his hips, bumping your clit with each halting thrust and seemingly driving himself insane.

After a few moments of this you start to squirm, ready to pass out after a satisfying fuck. You whine his name, moving your hand from his face to the bottom of his mohawk. When he still doesn't stop, you wrap your fingers in his hair and tug, a sharp noise all you're capable of to communicate what you need.

He stills suddenly, then makes a sound you can only call a snarl, teeth latching onto the meat of your shoulder and digging in. The sudden and sharp pain draws a high pitched noise from your throat, and he jerks his head back and forth a bit as his hips punish you with a few sharp thrusts.

"Johnny!"

He pulls his head back, eyes locking with yours. Despite seeming more in control than you for most of the act, you can see now just how far gone he is. Johnny's mouth hangs open, drool dripping past his lips from his work against your skin, his eyes dark and hazy as he stares into yours. A few moments later he stills then then pulls out, drawing twin moans from the both of you.

Before you even know what's happening, you're flipped onto your stomach. You blink blearily at the wood in front of you, trying to push up on your hands and shifting your legs closed.

"No," Johnny growls from behind you. His right hand goes to your left shoulder, pulling you tight against his body where he grinds his dick and up down your soaked slit. His left hand clumsily forces your legs apart, just shoving your thighs open until you lose your balance and are forced to your elbows.

He thrusts there for a few moments, and to your surprise his cock gradually thickens, then grows hard in your slick. You've still hardly realized what's going on when he pulls his hips back, lines up his cock, and pushes back into you.

The two of you let out twin noises of pleasure - his tinged with desperation and yours with that spike of pain that comes from overstimulation.

Johnny fucks you just as hard this time as he did the first, but the position manes he's nearly fucking your cervix. Each thrust forces a sharp noise out of your throat, and this time he doesn't silence you. He uses his hold on your shoulder to really fuck you, so rough you're nearly sure his hips are leaving bruises against the back of your thighs.

Despite the undeniable pleasure coursing through you, the little sparks of pain from your clit bring you out of your daze a bit. Your hands fumble in front of you, jerking back and forth and back and forth along with the rest of your body as Johnny's pace stays strong. After a few moments of desperate searching you finally manage to grip what must be a slat in the headboard.

Feeling a little feral, you grab it tightly and tug yourself forward, away from the brutal cock trying rearrange your insides.

It's not the right choice. The slight resistance against Johnny's grip on you rips an angry noise from him. He slams a hand down on the back of your neck and wraps his fingers in your hair, forcing your face into the mattress and dragging you back by his relentless grip. You keen, high and pathetic, and his only response is a rumble deep in his throat.

He stills for a moment, buried deep inside you still, and you can feel him shifting around behind you. You blink the tears from your eyes and stare dazedly at the dark gray of his walls, feeling like one big throbbing ache. A moment later you see his foot land on the bed at the bottom of your vision, and the hand not holding you down forces you into an arch that borders on painful.

Face smushed into the mattress, chest and stomach nearly flat to the bed and hips canted high in the air, pussy swollen and leaking - you can't even image how much of a whore you must look like.

Johnny doesn't seem to care too much. He leans his weight against you, leveraging his body weight into his thrusts as he starts his violent movements again. His teeth lock onto your shoulder blade, pressure strong and sucking. Every thrust forces a little uh from your lips, and every noise from you just pushes him further.

He moves his bites every few thrusts, and you know your back will be decorated in bruises come morning. When he starts to really lose his mind, when the span of your shoulders is aching and wet from his spit, he leans his forehead into the center of your spine and adds more weight behind his thrusts, slowing down but forcing what feels like the entirety of his strength behind each one.

With his hips tilted slightly more downward he absolutely plows into the sensitive spot against your inner walls. The first time he hits it, you cry out a noise of pure pleasure and another "Johnny!". He pauses for a moment, then lets out a moan of his own at the tight grip of your cock and sets out to hit that spot on every thrust. You start to sob a bit, high pitched little wails coming from your lips as the pleasure becomes overwhelming while still not being enough for you to finish.

He seems to realize you're not coming anytime soon only a few thrusts later, and somewhere deep in your mind you wonder if the multiple shifts in angle are meant to be for your benefit. He growls again and you feel the hand on your back creep around to your stomach then down to your clit, where two of his fingers begin to stroke and pluck at your most sensitive area.

The sudden onslaught at where you're most sensitive combined with the merciless attack on your g-spot had you rearing up, wild shouts coming without your consent. A snarl tears from his throat as the hand at the base of your skull muscles you down again, his body fighting yours as you instinctively look for a reprieve from the stimulation.

"Fucking-" he growls. "Fucking take it, goddamnit."

It only takes a few moments with the stimulation on your clit for you to come. The feeling grows from deep inside you, and for a moment you fear you recognize the sensation - it's one that certainly does not belong in this bed.

Before your brain fully connects the dots of what's happening you're swept beneath a tidal wave of sensation, fight leaving your body and leaving you limp as you do your best to squeeze the life out of Johnny's cock. You hear his groan from behind you, loud and uninhibited as he buries himself completely inside you to ride the wave of his own orgasm as you milk him.

"Knew you'd be perfect for us, lass. Look at ya - squirtin' all over me and makin' a mess, fuck. Gonna sleep in it tonight, soak in your scent. Can't fuckin'- can't fuckin' believe my luck- goddamn-"

His body finally falls against yours, cock slipping out of you (to your immense relief) and the left half of his body laid over the right half of yours. For a moment, the two of you pant in sync.

Then he's twisting both of you, rolling onto his right side and pulling you into his chest, tucking your face into his neck as he reaches down to pull the condom off his cock. There's a voice, somewhere deep in your head, that worries about the fact that he used the same condom for two rounds, but the heat of Johnny against you and the soothing pet of his hand through your hair empties your head too quickly for you to focus it.

You glance up at him once he finally settles. The smile on his face now is nothing by dopey and joyous, and you can't help but mirror it even as the ache settles in your core.

He makes short order of getting the two of you ready to sleep with just a bit of wiggling. You've had one night stands before where your partner (or yourself, on occasion) wanted to leave immediately, have even grown to expect it from most men, but there's a spark of warmth in your chest when Johnny tightens his arms around you, your chest against his, his chin hooked over your shoulder and using your head as a pillow, one arm wrapped tight behind your back and the other underneath your head. It feels like there isn't an inch of space between the two of you, and you've never been more comfortable.

You hum happily, still a little drunk from the pleasure, and snuggle your face back into his warm throat. The last thing you feel before falling asleep is a kiss against your shoulder and a hand stroking up and down your spine.

-----

It feels like hours later when you wake up, the room still painted in a soft yellow light but not yet harsh beams of sunlight.

It takes a moment for you to understand what's happening, breath bouncing back onto your lips where you're panting into a man's - Johnny, you remember - neck. You register the fact that your hands are curled between the two of you, your feet tucked between his calves, and finally the feeling of something poking and prodding at your very sensitive cunt.

It still takes another moment for your brain to understand that Johnny must be trying to start another round.

You whine a little in protest, one hand creeping up to wrap around his neck and the other pushing flat against his chest.

"Shhh," he soothes, breath puffing onto your forehead. "I just need you one more time, lovie. You can go back to sleep, promise I won't be rough this time, just need to feel you wrapped around me again, hm? Please, lassie, promise I'll be quick."

He sounds so desperate, a little out of control compared to how he sounded earlier, you're almost tempted to spread your legs and let him have whatever he wants. But then the tip of his cock puts just the tiniest bit of pressure at your hole and your hips instinctively jerk back at the sting, so you whine, "Johnny," mouthing at his chest. "'M sore. You fucked me too good earlier."

The noise that rips from his throat is almost begging, you feel it beneath your lips. His breathing grows heavier "Fuck, 'm sorry baby, so sorry. I'll just- I'll just fuck your thighs, yeah? Yeah, yeah, paint your pretty pussy with me, fuck, leave you soaked like you soaked me-"

"Johnny..."

"I know, I know, lovie, I'll just..." he shifts a bit, leaning his chin onto your forehead and anchoring a hand around your hip to keep you from squirming as his hips begin to jerk without rhythm. His cock is thick where you're most sensitive and you can't keep the high noises and quiet sniffles in as the sensation shoots both pleasure and pain up your spine.

”Hush, lass, 'm almost there, just need you to keep that pussy right there for me, so fuckin' close, just... just keep soakin' me..." he murmurs nearly incoherently against your forehead before his hips jerk to a still. You feel his come paint your thighs and you keen, part of you heartbroken he didn't paint your insides despite the pain.

"Ah, I know, I know, lassie. Here - I'll, I'll get you off too... 'm not selfish, hen, won't leave you wanting. Not like-" he cuts himself off, leaning his head down a bit and honest to god taking your cheek in his mouth, teething lightly at the fat there and soaking your face with slobber. You don't even think about the odd end of his sentence, you just arch into him and moan as his hand slips down to play with your clit.

His legs squeeze yours between them as you start to wiggle, hips thrusting away from the sharp sparks of pain your poor overstimulated clit is feeling.

"Hush, hush, baby just gonna... just gotta get you off real quick, ok? You can go back to sleep after, promise, just gotta make sure... gotta..." his voice trails off into a groan as your cunt twitches and flutters. He takes your lips in a sloppy kiss, more an exchange of spit and rubbing of tongues than anything.

Just as you're about to come he slips a thick finger into your overused cunt, drawing a sharp yelp from your throat, which he immediately sets to settle by licking across and around your slack mouth. "It's okay, it's okay, lovie, just giving you somethin' to clench on, yeah? Givin' your poor cunt somethin' to squeeze on, c'mon, you're alright." His finger begins to move around inside you, crooking, feeling for something until he presses right against your g-spot and you arch deeply into his body, a long moan falling from your lips. "Just gotta... yeah, that it? Tha' what feels good? Hng, you sound so pretty, baby, love your fuckin' noises, christ-"

You come with quiet gasps, the air pouring directly into his mouth just like his words had poured into yours. He works you through it, fingers slowly gentling on your clit and lessening the pressure on your g-spot as your jerking slows before you still and he finally pulls fully away from your core.

"Johnny," you mewl, hand gripping tight on the nape of his neck as you press as much of you to him as you can, slick skin sliding against slick skin. "Not-not again tonight, please, won't-won't be able to walk tomorrow if we keep going.

He laughs deeply against the top of your head. "Not as much of a deterrent as you might think, lassie." His arm wraps around the base of your spine, hand reaching around to rest on your stomach and his other arm wrapping around your neck in what almost feels like a choke hold. He throws his leg over your hip, leaning his body weight onto you and almost crushing you into the bed. "Won't touch you again tonight, promise, okay sweetheart? We'll go again in the morning, but just rest until then."

You choose to believe him and cuddle more deeply into his hold, a deep sigh leaving you as you finally pass out, boneless, against him.

-----

Johnny regrets his promise. He regrets it immensely.

You're so fuckin' pretty beneath him, your hair like a halo around your head, eyes shut and unmoving in sleep, lips parted just a bit to let you breathe comfortably. There's a pinkness on the cheek he'd gotten a hold of earlier (a light outline of his teeth marks that makes his cock ache even after three orgasms), and your lips are still swollen from the work he'd done on them. Christ, you look more fuckable now than you had with your hips rucked in the air, pussy drooling and begging for his cock, squirming before he got a good hold on you and kept you still.

He's not sure he'll be keeping his promise.

He wants to. You're gonna be right pissed at him come morning, he knows it, and the temptation to have you pliant and begging for it one last time is almost more than he can handle.

But no. He made you a promise, and even if he'll betray you in another way come sunrise, he won't betray you in the one promise he's actually made. If Ghost were here, he'd lock a warm hand around the back of Soap's neck, rumble something about "bein' good, Johnny" and take complete control of the situation. It'd feel good, the way it always does when Simon takes over, and Soap wouldn't have to worry about fucking any of this up cause Ghost would set him right back on track if he did.

Of course if Ghost were here, he'd never have met you.

Simon had left their shared flat only three days ago, sent on a mission the PMC they'd both signed with had requested him for. Usually the two of them worked together, neither willing to be separated from the other for long, but apparently this mission just had to be completed by one agent. Soap had pouted about it all morning, until Ghost had forced him to his knees and fucked his throat so good he'd been hoarse the rest of the day.

The first day after Ghost left he'd been... okay on his own. Ghost's mission - simple fuckin' reconnaissance, no good reason Soap couldn't have gone with him - took him far out to the country, so no texts or calls could be received. Johnny settled for spamming him a bit anyway, smiling at the thought of Ghost's inevitable annoyance when he regained an internet connection and felt his phone start buzzing endlessly. Other than that, Johnny spent most of the day cleaning. He's slow at it, but all the better to take up time in the day. He did a little shopping too, filled the flat up so it didn't feel so empty. It was a bit nice to go out in public and not part the damn Red Sea with Ghost at his side. People aren't scared of Johnny in the same way - they see his cheerful smile and laid-back posture and assume he's mostly harmless. He rarely needs to correct them.

Still. Would've been nicer with Simon.

The second day he realized their home felt empty because of the lack of one giant, brooding lieutenant, not the lack of throw pillows (which he didn't even bother to make match, for fuck's sake). This set him off a bit, left him pacing angrily around the apartment and muttering to the walls. Simon didn't have to take the fucking mission, and now he's left Johnny here - all alone! - in the home they bought for themselves to finally find a bit of fuckin' peace. It's not fair.

He'd been unable to take the absolute silence of the flat any longer on the third day, determined to surround himself with distractions. Granted, it's not like the flat is much less quiet with Ghost around, but the man has a presence that fills a room up. Leaves the room desolate and empty when he goes, though, and Soap is quite pissed about it. He'll make sure to let Simon know when he comes back, starts planning his revenge at night when he jacks off to relieve the tension in his spine.

He heads to a bar he knows is always packed that third night, feeling more and more pathetic as he rots away in bed.

It's there that he sees you.

You're on the dance floor alone, hips moving in a way that's got his and every single man's eyes glued to you. You're fucking stunning, sunk into a world of your own as you hit every beat of the music. Johnny can't help himself from moving toward you, shouldering past the writhing mass of people to get to you.

The moment he gets his hands wrapped around your hips he knows. You're perfect in hid hold, his hands fit around you like you were carved by fuckin' God Himself for Johnny. His head drops back as he tugs your hips into his, too caught up in his own head to think about what a scare he must've given you.

You still for a moment, stiff, but when Soap moves his hips away from yours and keeps his movements largely nonsexual (for now), more just swaying with you in his arms, you begin to relax and move with him.

You must feel it too then, right? Surely a young woman, one all by herself, wouldn't be so comfortable with a man she can't even see if she didn't feel the same spark up her spine he did.

The more you let him lead, the more sexual the dancing becomes, the more convinced Soap is that you're simply a gift for him. Placed right where he would see you when he needed you most.

There's a moment you scurry off to get another drink. Soap's eyes remain trained on your ass as you strut and it occurs to him that his and Ghosts' moving-in-together anniversary will be tomorrow - the same day he's set to come back from his assignment.

What better gift could he get than a pretty girl in his bed to welcome him home?

The plan maps itself out in his head as he continues to dance with you, time slipping by as song after song plays, his cock aching in his jeans and begging for release. He figures he'll get in a few rounds of fun with you to knock you out properly. Not a hardship for him - if you fuck as well as you dance it'll be a challenge for him to stay awake.

Once you're well and truly fucked unconscious, he'll begin the process of tying you up all pretty for Simon.

He gets you to their flat, still shocked you let him get you off on the dance floor, and he hardly waits for the front door to close before he's on his knees, nose and tongue buried in your center, feeling near feral with the need to get you off again. He's already fuckin' addicted to you and he hasn't even gotten his cock in yet.

You taste as good as Simon does - just more proof he was meant to find you. Ambrosia and nectar, the two of you.

He feels a little bad, in the afterglow of the second round. He thinks through his second orgasm and sees the way you'd fought against it. He worries, for a moment, that your want to get away was real, not just your body's instinctual reaction. But then you curl further into him, breath warm against his pulse point, and he remembers how clingy you were post-orgasm. All's well that ends well, right?

It's now, post third round, that Johnny watches you. His original movements of rolling you to your back and propping himself above you are meant to make sure you're not waking up any time soon, and he's definitely assured of that.

Still, he can't resist another little test. He prods his pointer and middle finger at the small space between your lips, applying just the slightest pressure. You don't even twitch, breathing steady, but your lips open just a centimeter or so more and he grins at the invitation. He slips the fingers in, carefully pushing further and further into your mouth until you let out a cute little gagging noise, brows furrowing lightly.

He stops there, waiting to see if he's passed your gag reflex without noticing. When you remain still, he lets out a breath of relief.

He pushes his fingers down on your tongue, applying pressure slowly so your brain doesn't suspect anything. In just a moment he's got your mouth fully open, and he can't resist anymore.

He groans a bit, hips thrusting into the bed as he leans in and licks at your mouth. His fingers slip down to hook over your bottom teeth so he can get another taste of your tongue, exploring every nook and cranny of your mouth that he was too worked up to find earlier.

He continues to make out with you until his hips jerk to a still, cum sticky between his abs and the bedsheet.

Then he really gets to work.

Johnny pulls himself away from you, leaving one last kiss on the hickey he'd sucked onto your neck. He moves around the dim room with military stealth, absolutely silent as he collects what he needs.

He's very, very slow as he ties you up. He lifts your body from where you were relaxed, propping you up just slightly against the headboard. He takes your right wrist first, lifting it to to one of the slats and tying the rough rope around and around until you're secured. He does the same with your other wrist, leaving your hands spread wide above you. He knows from experience that the rope is rough, that it'll leave wicked burns on your skin if you're left with any room to wiggle around. So he ties the knots real tight, leaving only room for circulation and absolutely none for movement.

Next he ties your ankles. Again he starts with the right first, lifting and slowly shifting your knee with it at the same time so you don't jerk suddenly and wake yourself. He's glad to see you're decently limber, because he knows you won't feel too sore later as he ties your left ankle to your left wrist. He repeats the process with your right ankle.

Feeling quite proud of himself, Johnny kneels back on his heels to admire his work. The position he's got you in leaves you completely spread, cunt and ass both open and accessible for him. He knows that he'll be able to bend down and reach both your tits and your face while he's fucking you, but you won't be able to do much more than writhe in place. You might manage a few thrusts if you get particularly worked up.

It's the same position that drives him the most insane when Ghost ties him up in it. It's also his favorite.

He grabs the last item after a moment of stroking his mostly soft cock and admiring you. The ring gag is decently large, made for someone with a mouth his size, not yours. It'll leave your jaw sore once he takes it out and the thought makes him frown - it's far too rough for his baby. Unfortunately, Ghost only buys rough toys for Soap, so Soap only has rough toys to use with you.

He hooks the ring beneath your bottom row of teeth then sets out to very slowly ease it fully in to hold your mouth in an o shape, buckling it around your head once he's confident you're as comfortable as he can make you. All the while he fantasizes about all the soft things he'll by you once you've settled in.

Silk rope, of course, and a much more comfortable gag to wear. Maybe one you can chew on a bit - Soap gnaws endless at any gag Simon stuffs in his mouth, but he doesn't want your soft mouth chewing at the hard plastics he prefers. He'll get you all the blankets and pillows you could ever want, too. Lay you in the center of the bed and build a little nest around you, the best things for his best girl, fuck you deep in the silk and fur, sandwiching you between himself and Ghost, the two of them fucking you til you're crying and begging for a break, pretty little pillow held to your chest for comfort while they stretch you to your limit, hiccuping and sniffling into a blanket he bought you -

A noise of discomfort breaks him out of his fantasy. Johnny jerks forward, petting your face and making the most soothing noises he can to keep you from waking up. He gives you his weight, remembering how well you reacted to it earlier, and after a few moments of his attention you go limp again. He licks long and languid into your mouth again, taking a moment to suck on your tongue for own comfort before pulling away.

He strokes his hands up and down the soft skin of your inner thighs as he decides what to do with you now. He hadn't had the forethought to promise not to fuck you, no, he'd been a bleedin' idiot and you said he wouldn't fuckin' touch you until sunrise. He fights to keep his fingers from tightening around the meat of your thighs as he scolds himself, frustrated.

Well... it's not like you would know, is it?

Maybe... maybe he can just eat you out a bit. Yeah, yeah he can go real slow so you don't wake up, bury his face in your cunt til sunrise then wake you up with his tongue. Maybe an orgasm will calm a bit of your inevitable panic?

He smirks and lowers himself to his stomach between your thighs, hands pulling the sticky, swollen lips of your cunt apart so he can lick one thick, broad stripe from asshole to clit. He clenches his jaw tightly, locking a loud groan behind his teeth at the unique mix of your cum and his on his tongue.

A few deep breaths to calm himself down, and Johnny dives into your pussy.

-----

The first thing you feel when you wake up is pleasure.

You know what a tongue on your core feels like. It takes you a moment or two to remember, in the dark of sleep still, that you went home with a man last night. With Johnny, who'd promised not to touch you again until morning.

Well. The quick swipes against your clit tell you he's either a liar, or it's time for you to get up and out.

That's when you realize that something must be wrong. Because there's an ache in your hips, and your arms don't move when you try to reach down and push Johnny's face further into you so you can finish.

Your eyes blink open blearily, confusion creasing your expression.

Your feet are in the air above you. More accurately, your feet are tied in the air above you.

What the fuck?

A cautious noise of confusion tears from your throat as you begin to twist and yank at your apparent bindings in earnest, panic and pleasure making your heart pound against your ribcage.

As you discover the lack of leeway your movements become more and more frantic, uncontrollable noises of pure animal distress coming from you.

Which is when you realize that you're making those noises because you can't speak. There's something locked behind your teeth, tied around your head just tight enough that you can't force the thing out with your tongue. Your breathing isn't restricted at all, and you realize it's because your mouth is gaping open, able to suck in any oxygen you need. As you become more aware of the intrusion, an ace in the hinges of your jaw makes itself known.

Your panic spikes in earnest now, noises becoming just sharp sounds of fear from your throat as you start to squirm away from the invading sensation at you most private area.

Then Johnny lifts himself into your eyeline.

He looks- he looks fine, which just freaks you out more because for some godforsaken reason you'd trusted this man, and now the only conclusion you can come to is that he's got you bound and gagged to his headboard.

What the fuck?

Tears begin to stream from your eyes, first one then more than you can hope to keep track of.

"Oh, lass," Johnny coos, genuine fucking concern carved into the lines of his face. He leans forward and cups both hands around your cheeks, thumbs swiping beneath your eyes to clear away the wetness. His warmth is a shock against the chilled skin of your face, bringing everything into even sharper focus as your head clears more and more. "Hush, don't cry. It's okay, it's okay, 'm gonna take care of you, yeah? Just had to tie you up all pretty for Simon, you wanna look good for him when he comes home, don't you?"

You finally go still at that, desperate movements jerking to a sudden stop. Simon...?

Surely he wouldn't... surely he doesn't mean to share you?

Knew you'd be perfect for us.

I'll get you off too... 'm not selfish, hen, won't leave you wanting. Not like-

Oh god. Oh god, he means to share you. With another man.

"You're gonna love him, baby," Johnny continues above you, either unaware or uncaring of the wave of terror beginning to overtake you. "He seems real mean and scary at first, but I promise he'll be so nice after. I'll make sure he's nice, ok? Won't let him be too mean to my baby. Whatever he'll do, you'll like," he smirks down at you, like you're both in on some joke. "I always do."

He shifts his hands down your cheeks and your neck, landing firmly over your breasts and giving them a tight squeeze. "For now..." he dips his head to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking so softly for a man doing all of this without your permission. "I'll take care of you, yeah? I'll loosen you up so good for him, lovie."

He plays with your breasts for several minutes, drool sliding across your chest when he can't decide which tit to focus on. You begin to shift out of your frozen state of shock, his words slowly registering in your head while he plays with you.

You jerk again, wrists twisting desperately to try and find any sort of weak spot to tug against, air puffing harshly through the gag. Johnny frowns up at you from where he's sucking at your nipple, brows furrowing as he glances between your hands. He pulls himself reluctantly away from you, pushing up and gripping just below the ties with a stern look on his face. "No, lassie. These ropes are rough, I don't want you to hurt yourself just because you're tryin' to get away from a good thing. Stop tryin' to break yer damn wrists, yeah?"

You glare at him furiously, absolutely astounded by the man's audacity. His frown morphs into a smirk verging on mean as he leans closer to your face. "You gon' listen for me, huh? Gonna be a good girl for me so I can finish eating out your pretty cunt?" You let out a sharp noise of anger, lurching forward to try and slam your forehead into his.

He jerks back before you can make contact, shock flashing briefly across his features before a laugh bursts from his lips while you're forced back by the restraints, huffing and puffing angrily. "Easy, lovie. Try somethin' like that with Simon and he won't be so nice as I am."

With that he gives your forearms a little squeeze and a rub, then lowers himself between your thighs to apparently get right back to work. You jerk as his tongue pokes out to prod at your clit, hips thrusting as much as they can in your tight bindings and noises falling past your lips without your control.

Johnny lets out a loud groan at his first taste of you. He scoops his arms under your thighs, hands landing at the base of your spine and your thighs in the crease of his elbows, holding his own face as deep in your cunt as he can and gets to work.

If his work last night was nasty, this is animalistic. He's not doing this for your pleasure, he's doing it for his. His tongue doesn't stay on your clit, it doesn't even stay on your cunt itself - he licks all around your core, the creases of your thighs where sweat begins to drip, even down to your sensitive asshole (you jerk and yelp at the sensation, and you feel the rumble of his laughter as he pushes his tongue in there, thrusting a few times before moving to stuff as much as he could into your pussy).

You fight against it, cunt pulsing and trying to force out the invasion when it ventures there, hips writhing desperately - towards and away, but you don't think about it, you don't want more of this, you want to get away from him and from the pleasure he gives - and your head rolling back and forth on the pillow.

The worst part, probably, is the fact that you can't hide your noises. The gag in your mouth doesn't let you keep anything to yourself, even the tiniest whine or sigh is clear as day with the way your lips are forced open.

You're discovering that grunts and moans of anger, of fear, sound very similar to grunts and moans of pleasure. It makes your eyes well up with tears all over again, which just pisses you off even more.

Johnny's apparently unaware of your tumultuous mental state, eating at your cunt like a fucking Christmas feast.

He seems to decide you should come a few moments later, focusing his attention onto your clit and slipping two fingers inside of where you're neediest and adding a solid pressure against your g-spot. The sudden stretch, the slight sting from last night, draws a high noise from you and your hips jut sharply into the air. Johnny's response is to lightly wrap his teeth around your clit, slowly biting down and gradually applying pressure - tongue still flicking away - until you come.

This orgasm, forced from your body, drives you insane. You shout from behind the gag and slam your head forward rather than back, desperate for the freedom of any movement you can get. Your hips grind as much as they can between the ropes and Johnny's hand, trying to work through the overwhelming sensations for you.

When you're finished, body gone limp in acceptance your brain hasn't caught up with, he doesn't move. His face remains planted in your pussy, breath warm and wet against your sensitive flesh, but his fingers slip from your tender passage. A moment later, once you've calmed down a bit and can't do anything but stare wide-eyed at the ceiling, he heaves himself up to his knees and stares down at your body.

His face is soaked, your slick nearly dripping from his chin. There's a shine on his fucking throat.

Not entirely conscious of your movements, you try to get the gag out of your mouth again. You wiggle your tongue around it, trying to force under the ring so you can... you're not even really sure. Suck it into your mouth and spit it out? That might work if it wasn't tied around your fucking head. Regardless, you can't even get the tip of your tongue beneath the metal, top or bottom, so -

Johnny's loud groan interrupts your thoughts, freezing your movements. He's staring at your lips, pupils blown and chest rising and falling dramatically with his breaths. "Fuck, lovie, keep- keep movin' your tongue like that."

You don't listen but he crawls up your body anyway. You have a moment of panic, worried about this massive man dropping his body weight onto your thighs when he sits his ass down on them and rests his knees right by your ears, but he locks a hand around the headboard and holds up most of his own weight.

Small mercies, you think, then immediately curse yourself for even thinking anything positive towards this asshole.

If you thought you were immobile before, you're really learning the meaning of it now. With his weight resting on you - even just the little bit he allows - you can't move any part of yourself other than your fingers and toes.

"Yer fuckin' mouths so pretty, baby. Just gonna... just gonna fuck it a little, yeah?" Your eyes go wide at his murmured words and he's quick to stroke a hand down the side of your head, thumb tracing the forced shape of your lips. "I'll be gentle, promise, just need to be inside you. Won't even choke you on it, just need..." he trails off as his hips shift forward, tip just barely squeezing past the gag and into your mouth. You let out a high keen, and even the little vibrations make him throw his head back with closed eyes and groan.

He's true to his word, the bastard, only thrusting shallowly in and out as his free hand massages his own balls. You can only sit there, desperately trying to clamp your jaw down until that sends a sharp spike of pain up your skull and drags a high yelp from your throat. Johnny's eyelids briefly lift to check on you but quickly slip closed again.

This feels far more like a violation than his finger had. You're helpless to his movements even more now, simply forced to sit there and keep your tongue as still as possible in an attempt to steal even a modicum of his pleasure.

You don't know how long Johnny plays with your mouth. All you can do is lay there and wait.

Your noises are muffled by the cock in your mouth, and the slow pace seems to be the secret to keeping him relatively quiet. So when there's a loud slam outside of the bedroom, followed by what sound like heavy footsteps, you both take instant notice.

There's a moment where you think, delusionally, that someone must be here to help you. But then your see the rapidly growing elation on Johnny's face as he pulls himself free of your mouth, and you remember.

Just had to tie you up all pretty for Simon.

You're gonna love him, baby.

You can't help but let out a low cry at the realization, tears falling yet again.

Johnny doesn't even comfort you this time, just extracts himself from you and leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead before nearly trotting out of the bedroom, cock swinging proudly between his legs.

-----

Ghost's back. Finally, finally, Simon is fucking back. Soap's so excited by the knowledge that he's able to completely forget about his dick for the few steps it takes him to reach his partner.

Ghost's wearing a hoodie that's tight around his torso (one of Johnny's, he recognizes, knows that means he did miss Johnny, the pain at their separation wasn't just in his head) and low hanging sweatpants with his skull balaclava covering the bottom half of his face, black makeup smeared around his eye sockets from sweat. If Soap weren't hard as a rock already he'd certainly be by now.

He throws himself into his lieutenant's arms with a grin, leaning forward and leaving a loud, wet kiss on the covering over his face. Soap leans back to run a hand through the blonde hair, sees the heat in Simon's eyes and throbs.

Ghost cranes his head down and gives a perfunctory look over his unabashedly naked body and leaking cock. "That needy already, Johnny?"

"Yeah, L.t.," Soap replies, breath still coming out in pants from his grinning lips. "Been playin' with your anniversary present all morning."

Just on cue, there's a sound distinctly like a wail from behind the cracked open bedroom door. Johnny can't help but grin at the sound of your desperation, cock twitching between their bodies.

Ghost's eyes flick over to the door, then an eyebrow cocks above blue eyes. "Anniversary?"

Johnny can't help but roll his eyes, grasping Ghost's wrist and tugging him in the direction of their bedroom. He follows easily. "Don' play dumb, Si. Doesn't suit you."

Ghost doesn't get a chance to respond as Johnny swings their door open, pulling him into the room with the excitement of an overeager pup. "Ta-da," he beams, free hand gesturing to you. "Found her in a club. She's perfect. Feels like heaven around your cock, and fights when you fuck her through an orgasm." He can't help but chuckle, eyes drawn back to your form.

Your own eyes are wide with panic and locked on Ghost. Johnny feels a little bad for you, squirming little pathetic thing you've become, knowing how scary the man must seem to you. Johnny only comes up to Ghost's nose, and he has to suppress a groan at the thought of how wide Simon is compared to him, how the older man is going to absolutely crush you.

A rough and hot hand clamps on the nape of Johnny's neck, and he instinctively tears his eyes from you to Ghost. The man's thumb plucks at the chain his dog tags hang from, leaning just a bit toward his face. "This your gift?"

All Johnny can do is nod, a soft whine creeping out of his throat at the familiar representation of Ghost's control over him.

Simon's eyes crinkle and Soap knows there's a smile hidden under the mask. He leans forward and presses his covered lips to Johnny's forehead. "Good fuckin' boy, MacTavish."

#john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #bo writes #dark fic #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #Johnny soap mactavish x you #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare fanfic

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mynameisnotthepoint · 1 month ago

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So yesterday, I binged Love in the big city. I had read the book, and as I am wont to do, i skimmed through to get back to the episodes and really sit down and watch them later (hopefully in small increments over the next two weeks).

I have been scrolling around on twitter since then (as one does, I am sick in bed with nothing to do but an assignment I don't have the brain power for right now) and really made me think.

First, I looked at international fans' reactions in English e.g. a gay guy I follow who parties a lot and talks openly about his sex life said it felt real, another guy kept complaining about Go Young's taste in men but also the people who watched it for the romance and only focused on that (and the sex scenes, which have racked up 100.000s of views). Some excitedly writing about how handsome the actors were, how they wanted to see a second season, a shame about this or that plot point (the "endgame" not being there). And as @lurkingshan said, it is NOT a romance drama or even a BL drama. This is a chronicle of one's man's life and his trauma, his relationships and his triumphs.

A lot of English-writing commentors praise the actors for their bravery. And that is always the debate, isn't it? Without them taking the role, this thing might not have been made. But the people behind it, who wrote, filmed, assisted, the writer who is a gay man himself, they all had such high stakes too, even higher (the author kept urging people on twitter to give the drama high views, one of the actors offered free hugs and an eating live stream if they managed to trend at no. 1). The drama is a depiction of a queer person's life as it could happen. Taking on this role, playing the part and then leaving it behind, is that as brave as people who live this life every day? Not to say that none of the actors in this production could be queer, bc some probably are.

One of the people i follow on twitter pointed out this feels like the drama shows queer sex, not sensationalised sex, just, that sex is a part of life so it is depicted in a series that is about life. With reading that, I began to wonder what queer koreans were saying about the series. Thanking the fact that google translate has not yet dropped their support of X, formerly twitter, I began by searching up Nam Yoon Su's name in Korean. A lot of people were calling him handsome, saying they cried about his performance. And then I stumbled upon several things:

1. The club scenes/music they used seems outdated to some Korean queers. They wrote that this feels more like a man in his 30s reminiscing his 20s than someone actually in their 20s, which, fair, the drama is told over the span of like 10 years I believe. Also the commentors thought the dancing was bad. But they said, even if some of it felt not true to gay life/the actors couldn't completely sell it as believable, that the drama was important and shouldn't be criticised too harshly.

2. They were having a linguistic debate about the usage of Korean gay slang (i think it was the word 기갈, but I could be wrong bc my Korean vocabulary is like 30 words) and that it has come into vogue with straight girls who go to gay bars, as Mi Ae does in the drama. In a way, it is a risk bringing a subculture that is/was quite closed to the mainstream (I think similar critiques have been made about drag race).

3. That the drama was not reaching its intended audience (queers) and was instead something for straight BL fans to screech over. It does feel kind of weird that something that veers more into raw territory (if you disregard the casting of Nam Yoon Su, who is super pretty and not at all like Young was described in the book), is treated the same as the stylised/trope-ified human experiences we see in some BLs (nothing wrong with those! Media is in its essence always a distillation of an experience),

I think that there is always a risk of depicting something that is close to the way actual individuals experience it and running into voyeuristic territory, on display for millions of people. Is it weird to want people to take this more seriously? To look at it in depth, treat the characters like humans that could actually be living out there and not Ken dolls you can mash together? Or is that too reductive of me, dictating what other people's experience with media should look like?

These are just my initial thoughts, I need to ruminate on them more, and I could be completely wrong about all of this.

I myself rarely go outside and have not had many queer IRL friends, which is why I am drawn to these series. To be honest, I don't even know the local queer slang bc I have been to the queer bar here once before it closed down due to internal disputes. Reading Love in the big city made me feel like i was hit with a sledgehammer, the series makes me want to go out and live again (once I am feeling up to it).

#love in the big city #i have not completely felt like myself in while #but i had to type this out as it was bouncing around my head #i always said i hated google translate bc i studied to be a translator #i think maybe this whole endevour can give me the push i need to actually learn korean #bc what is media criticism/literacy if you never look at the original sources #and i do know i can't trust google translate 100% and have to read through a lot of different comments saying similar things #before i can start concluding things #i know this is also a kind of voyeurism in and of itself

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oops-prow-did-it-again · 2 years ago

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New Phyrexia disturbed me - and not how it should have

This is going to be a VERY opinion-heavy post. Before I say anything, I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not condemning the entirety of the New Phyrexia arc, nor am I saying that the people who wrote these stories meant for them to be taken this way. This is just a post getting into why the New Phyrexia arc rubbed me the wrong way again and again, and why it's... kind of ruined my love for Magic, if I'm completely honest.

Also, yes, I understand that New Phyrexia was meant to horrify and unsettle people - but I feel like it unsettled me in ways that they kind of weren't going for. I expect horror to unsettle me and show me some fucked up shit, for lack of a better terminology - but I also was expecting, in the fantasy/scifi horror shit, I'd get some stuff that didn't feel like it hit so close to home.

More under the cut.

First of all, it has always felt as if Magic can never quite decide if Phyrexians are people or monsters. This is worsened in New Phyrexia, where time and time again, we are given reason to think that New Phyrexians are people that are simply heavily indoctrinated from birth. Yes, the glistening oil works in strange ways, and they have somewhat of shared knowledge amongst their entire network, but by and large, you see time and time again, that Phyrexians have individuality. This seems intentional - you are shown from the start that Elesh Norn is an egomaniac, a fool, and that her plans of grandeur are insane. But her insanity shapes this world.

In that way, everyone in this world are... mostly actually victims of her insanity. Ixhel and Urabrask on New Capenna stand out as examples of times where Phyrexians show that they are not the heartless monsters they are made out to be. In Urabrask's first cards, he claims that he wishes the Mirrans to be left alone.

Yet, in ONE, we see time and time again that red Phyrexians and Mirrans are fighting still, Urabrask doesn't seem to be paying that much attention to the Phyrexians, and... frankly, I don't know what the Halo subplot was supposed to be about (forgive me, if this was addressed in passing, I only skimmed the latter half of MOM to see what big things happened, because i was so upset with it at that point I didn't really WANT to read it anymore). Yes, I have read the creators saying time and time again that just because Urabrask doesn't say outright he wants the multiverse compleated, it doesn't mean it's not what he wants, deep down. However... this still harks back onto one idea.

Sapient creatures being born evil.

This is a trope that I LOATHE in fantasy/scifi to my core. I understand that Phyrexians, for all intents and purposes, are created in a monstrous fashion. They are not created in a similar way to people. However, in the end, they still ACT LIKE PEOPLE. They have individuality, free will (yes, even if it is limited by the strict theocratic control of Norn, they still have it - how did Ixhel create, otherwise? How did Sheoldred rebel? Why did Nahiri snap at Nissa to show the skyclaves? Why did Tamiyo freeze upon seeing children?), and whether you like it or not, this makes them people. They are extremely different people, and yes, their existence does present conflict - but they. are. still. people.

I understand how it may feel offensive to real people to call the (rightful) fear and concern towards Phyrexians to be racism, as I feel like that waters down the term. However... again, knowing that Phyrexians are largely a cult that has been severely indoctrinated by Elesh Norn... it becomes difficult not to feel bad for them, and as if they have all been written off simply because they have a terrible leader. It comes across, to me, as another case of fantasy racism; similar to orcs being portrayed as idiot, warmongering beasts in some settings, or goblins being portrayed as stupid people little better respected than animals (and full of antisemitic stereotypes), just with less baggage attached.

It comes across as them having wanted to create a sapient race of people that was okay to bash and throw under the bus, so to speak. And yes, they gave plenty of reasons for why these people needed to go... but ultimately, it still feels like people went out of their way to create a civilization of people and show us justification for exterminating them.

I'm not trying to water down the term racism, but like... maybe I don't know the right words, but you understand why that might be uncomfortable, right?

Furthermore, at the start, I thought the transformative nature of Phyrexians was cool. Hot, even, as plenty others here on Tumblr think. Yes, I always sort of knew it was meant to be horrifying, too... but I also thought that the creators also were making them semi-alluring on purpose. (Look at Elesh Norn in promotional art. Look at her in the ONE trailer!! Look at the email they sent out for Arena on Valentine's Day, for god's sake!) But as time goes on... I start to get this uncomfortable feeling that this borderline sensual, sexual tension the Phyrexians produce is supposed to be PART of the horror.

And that's where things start getting uncomfortable for me. I am a transgender man. I don't know if I like sexualized, different people that transform themselves... being treated as horrible monsters that can't be coexisted with. I know plenty of trans people felt otherwise about Phyrexians; I understand this likely wasn't even the intention. BUT it still felt that way to me, for someone living in a country where trans people are getting more and more hunted on the daily.

Suddenly, it wasn't so fun anymore, to look at Elesh Norn and see her as heehoo sexy dommy mommy everyone joked at her being. It felt, to me at least, like she was a caricature of what I was. Of what people like me are. Monstrous. Out to destroy the world. Egomaniacs who want to force others down our same "lifestyle."

This is not helped by how Strixhaven, despite being an obvious play on Hogwarts & Harry Potter, came back into importance in MOM. They made a new Planeswalker from that plane, even! I loathe Strixhaven, and I was not at all pleased to learn that they have made it more important. The stories from the original Strixhaven set make me uncomfortable, too; Lukka arrives at a tavern and is asking for food, as he is not doing so well, and people comment on how he dresses strange, and when he (not rudely!) tells them they wouldn't know where he's from even if he told them, they react by SHOOTING FIREBALLS AT HIM.

These people saw a stranger. And decided the appropriate reaction was to shoot fireballs. (More on Lukka later, as I'm not done with him yet) but you understand how that might have also been deeply uncomfortable, right? Like yes, it did seem very intentional, to show how unkind the general populace of Arcavios can be... but there never seemed to be any point to that?? So it just came across as people hating a guy for dressing unconventionally for ""flavor"" to the very-obviously-based-on-TERF-school set. Which. WHY?

I also was not blind to how most of the compleated Planeswalkers were the nonhuman ones. Barring Lukka and Jace, every compleated Planeswalker was nonhuman, which I think... was done purposefully, because nonhumans are viewed as inherently more "monstrous" to our primal little monkey brains. (I don't think it was coincidence; there are PLENTY of human planeswalkers, to the point the majority could have easily not been human.) But this makes me uncomfortable too, because it feels like it, again, not only implies that Phyrexians are not people and are monsters (even though they had been given traits again and again that very firmly confirmed them as people), but that these nonhuman planeswalkers are inherently more monstrous, too.

Ajani - leonin. Tamiyo - moonfolk. Tibalt - (half) devil. Nissa - elf. Vraska - gorgon. Nahiri - kor.

And of the human Planeswalkers compleated, they chose Lukka and Jace. Jace, who has had a steep history of being viewed as less than human and little more than a tool (even sometimes by himself, as much as he hates it), and Lukka, who was also viewed as less than human by the society he came from, and was essentially labeled a sick dog to be shot on sight by his home city. (But more on him and why I particularly hate what was done with him later.)

And like... I'm not saying that corruption arcs or that transformation horror can't be done in a tasteful way!! It just started to feel like, as time went on, that this stuff was... malicious. I already was uncomfortable with how Phyrexians were seemingly being set up to be offed or taken out the picture completely (for there being no feasible way for them to coexist in the multiverse), so maybe I was looking for flaws, even where most wouldn't see them. But, I mean.. it just... Idk man. That part, too, gets under my skin.

And Lukka. LUKKA. I loathe what has been done to his character like none other. It is frequent fan interpretation that Lukka is stupid, Lukka deserves everything that has happened to him, and that it's a good thing he is gone. However, having read everything he has ever appeared in, I am so infuriated that even the creators THEMSELVES seemed to have bought into this idea.

For those that don't know, Lukka first appeared in Ikoria: Lair of Behemoths - Sundered Bond, a digital novella. He was born and raised in Drannith, a heavily militarized city, one of three so-called "sanctuaries" that have actually managed to stay around on Ikoria. Ikoria is a world of kaiju-esque mutated, crazy monster animals, and he was raised in propaganda by Drannith's military, the Coppercoats. He is 40+ years old when we meet him; he has served the Coppercoats for half of that, and then another 2 years or so as Captain of a Specials force team. You see, through him, that he's actually a very caring leader and a rather simple guy: he is betrothed to Jirina Kudro, the daughter of General Kudro, leader of the Coppercoats, and his concerns seem to only be getting his team back home in one piece and getting quality time with his wife. He's not perfect, he's rough around the edges, would probably be an asshole to hang out with in real life, but it FITS for the world he comes from.

And then, he accidentally bonds with a winged cat that slaughters 3/4 of his team in front of him, within minutes of each other. General Kudro has kept the bonding magic Lukka experienced a secret from Drannith populace. He believes it makes Lukka "sick." (Need I explain why a leader referring to a group of people as inherently 'sick' is bad??) Even Jirina, for as much as she apparently loves her father, so emphatically believes her father will kill Lukka for this that she helps him escape! the city!!!

To recap, Lukka has his entire world upended from beneath his feet in the course of like, a day. He becomes the public enemy of the city he has defended with his life for years. In his eyes, it is us (the humans of Ikoria) versus them (the monsters of the plane). This is how he has been raised and trained; he did not choose the bonding and is (rightfully!) upset and horrified at it (ONE was incorrect when it said he "always knew he was different;" lukka made no such acknowledgments in Sundered Bond, that was an invention of ONE). He later then meets Vivien, who tells him how her home plane was DESTROYED (um??? Vivien? Why would you tell a man whose life is going to shit about that??) which makes Lukka vow to himself that he will not lose his home.

Later in the story, Lukka learns of a presence in a particular crystal called the Ozolith, and he goes to it. There, for reasons that would take too long to explain, a three-way battle ensues, and an unknown Planeswalker reaches out to Lukka through the Ozolith. The Planeswalker shows Lukka one of the bonders he has met along the way getting killed by a skysail's bolt meant to kill monsters and it is only then that Lukka accepts the power of the Ozolith.

Anyway, saying all this to say... Lukka is a villain, yes. But contrary to popular belief, he is NOT stupid. He is just as smart as anyone would be in the situation he was put into, coming from the world he comes from. He wanted, again and again and again, nothing more than to just go home. He even tried to spin his bonding into a way that Drannith could defend itself, by telling Kudro they should use monsters instead of peoples' lives (but Kudro wasn't hearing it; and the kicker? Drannith would go on to use bonders & monsters to protect the city anyway, after Lukka had been run off the world).

Lukka had a SHIT deck of cards handed to him in Ikoria, and he - REASONABLY - lashed out. It was just that when he lashed out, he had the power of a Planeswalker manipulating him, whispering in his ear, and the power to actually make people listen. He believed his choices were come home and die like a good soldier, or force them to let him come home. Maybe other people fault him for that, but I don't fault him for choosing to live, even if doing so caused much violence and bloodshed.

But yes, he was still a villain, and in Strixhaven, he was relegated to villain again, when people once again presume him to be an Oriq - which he doesn't even know what that is - and finally, he simply decides that if everyone keeps calling him one, he might as well be one. This comes after nearly starving to death and having his new bond, Mila, save his life. Had someone from Strixhaven maybe, I don't know, taken pity on this very clearly struggling guy.... I don't know! I feel like his role in Strixhaven really never would have happened. THE GUY LITERALLY JUST WANTED FOOD AND WATER. I cannot emphasize that enough

Anyway, saying this all to say, Lukka's arc felt like it was headed toward a redemption of some kind. He had been given a raw deal, reacted very humanly but very poorly, and now, the only way he had to go was up.

Instead, we got Vivien shooting him dead. Calling him "lukka-thing." We got Vivien saying nothing as she faces down the man she called a friend and seemingly felt bad for by the end of Sundered Bond and killing him.

As someone from a country that is VERY obviously careening toward more VERY conservative bullshit... THAT PLOT DID NOT SIT WELL WITH ME. It felt VERY MUCH like I was being told "if you are born into shit circumstances or bad things are done to you, and you don't sit there and take it, you will be punished for not simply taking it. And that punishment may very well be death."

I especially did not care for how Jirina seemed to be veering into her father's mindset in the story in MOM. And yes, she was called out for this, but the story also seemed to be trying to lean into this "survival, no matter the cost" vibe, which seemed like it was subtly justifying what she did, since it DID technically work in the end. Vivien's emo ass "but survival is the only law out here now" or w/e it was she said to herself as she killed Lukka definitely didn't help that feeling, either.

It upset me very much to see a character born into a shitty society, given raw deal after raw deal, and then be told that he deserved to die instead of get help. Or worse, that dying WAS getting help. It was "putting him out of his misery." He was "irreversibly changed," and "didn't know better anymore," he "couldn't be helped." That, combined with how compleation started to feel like a very negative allegory for transgender people after a point to me (see near the beginning of this), made Lukka's death feel like rapidfire punch after rapidfire punch to the gut.

AND NOT IN THE WAY THAT IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN! I would have loved to see Vivien upset that she can't get to apologize. I would have loved to see Vivien agonizing over the decision to kill him. I would have loved her maybe showing some more REMORSE over having to do it, even if she did feel it was the only way forward. We have seen that New Phyrexians, especially compleated Planeswalkers, are still themselves, even while compleated, so the fact Lukka had nothing to say to her either felt hollow, too. He thought she was his friend and she turned on him; why didn't he have anything to say about that?

Urabrask being pulled apart at the limbs, then, felt like the final message to me: New Phyrexians are not people, they are monsters, end of discussion. They are not making it out of this. Stop asking/talking about it.

Suffice to say, by the time I got to the story of Elspeth becoming an archangel, everything felt hollow and gross for me. I've seen the promo art of Aftermath showing Nahiri and Nissa at least recovered; I get the feeling most of them, bar Tamiyo, Tibalt, and Lukka, probably have recovered or will recover.

But, frankly, I don't think I'm very invested anymore. New Phyrexia felt like it crossed a lot of lines, and not in the way that I would have appreciated horror to do so. It hit on a lot of sensitive subjects that made it rather difficult to enjoy as mere entertainment. Maybe I am just oversensitive, due to the day and age I am living in, due to the fact I am deeply unhappy with the fact I am forced to live closeted irl and feel hypervigilant of all slights, but it felt very gross to me.

Lukka's death in particular just... sealed the deal for me. I know he wasn't a big deal. Maybe he was always intended to just be a villain that gets killed off. But it's not even necessarily about him, in particular, it was about what his death represented. It was about how he was a product of propaganda and hatred, and how he was never given a chance to be better. it's about how I was told that death was the only way forward for him.

Maybe when I was 12 I would have liked that, but I'm over my obsession with the 'death is the only salvation.' SO MUCH MEDIA uses this trope, and frankly, I'm fucking sick of it.

I want to see people, even some of the most depraved fucking people you can imagine, getting better. I want to see that people can change and recognize the error in their ways. I'm tired of being told to look and see "us vs. them."

I'm not saying that you can't have conflict. But I am saying that if you're going to have conflict of this scale, I would prefer it to be solved in ways that don't essentially boil down to "kill/put away the Them."

Because that fucking blows.

If you've made it this far, I am grateful, but again, please keep in mind that this is the ramblings of a deeply mentally unwell ADHD-addled 22 year old (who is not on and cannot get Adderall right now). Emotional dysregulation IS a big problem I deal with, and the world I live in right now fucking sucks. If you're reading this going "oh my godd, let people enjoy things, you crybaby" then please just... move on? Because I'm not trying to tell people not to enjoy it, quite the contrary I WISH these things didn't bother me so much because I JUST got into Magic, and I would love to keep enjoying it! And Im happy for you if you have tolerance/could enjoy it through these things!

I'm just... sad. I'm very, very disappointed in this story. It was pretty, it was flashy, people clearly put in effort, but it felt like a low blow, all things considered, and worse, it touches literally all aspects of canon and cannot be safely disregarded. Much like War of the Spark, it affects almost everything, and will for a while yet.

#mtg #magic the gathering #magic: the gathering #mtg march of the machine #mtg phyrexia all will be one #march of the machine #phyrexia: all will be one #rambles #long post

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ihatehugo · 10 months ago

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hey!!! if you enjoy varian and the seven kingdoms please stop scrolling for just a moment!!!!

so i know there are multiple fanfiction creators who have written their own versions of vat7k and i love and have read each and every one of them

i decided i wanted to join in on the fun and so i’ve been working on my own version of vat7k for over a year now

i’ve split it into three books plus a prequel and a sequel. each book (minus the prequel & sequal) have 22 chapters each. the prequel & sequel will have around 1-10 chapters (it depends on how long the written portion is)

i wanted to make my series have a similar vibe to an actual tv show so the chapters will be posted as if they are episodes. for example, one chapter will be lore based and another will be similar to a filler episode.

sadly, i’m still working on it and it probably won’t be done anytime soon but i do have a decent portion of it created. i have an idea for what to put into each chapter and am working on the details of each chapter. i’ve also written a few snippets here and there and here’s one from the prequel, After Ever After:

Varian’s pacing. He knows he’s pacing but by the Sun, he’s angry. For years, he’s wanted to know more about his mother. For years, he’s begged to hear stories about her. For years, he’s lived off of the small scraps that his father gave to him, only to learn that he has been keeping a key component about his mother from him.

His mother’s journal sits before him on Xavier’s table, a deep forest green with a symbol engraved upon it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it's mocking him. Just when he made peace with the fact that nothing will ever change in Corona, this journal pops into existence as a big “fuck you!” to Varian’s mental wellbeing.

Xavier has been watching him patiently, having already picked his way through the journal. Varian stubbornly refuses to be the one to speak first but Xavier is just staring at him, his eyes following the path Varian is making into his floor.

Varian doesn’t speak for several more seconds before he demands: “So? What does it mean? What are the Seven Trials and why was my mom so obsessed with it?”

“Ah, yes, the Seven Trials,” Xavier enunciates. He rubs his chin as a faraway look passes over his face. “It is an old tale but one worth revisiting.”

“Oh, would you quit it?” Varian snaps. He stops pacing and stands across from Xavier, arms crossed and his foot tapping the ground repeatedly. “I really don’t want a long winded explanation right now.”

Xavier chuckles. “Very well. I will keep my story short. The Seven Trials were a test made long ago by Demanitus himself.”

Varian’s foot falls with a final thump. “Demanitus? My mom followed his studies too?”

“It would seem so.” Xavier gently picks up the journal and flicks through the pages. He stops about midway through the book and turns it for Varian to see. “And it also seems like she got very close to her goal.”

The entry on the page is annoyingly vague. The main phrases he gets from it are words he’s already read when he skimmed through it earlier. “The Eternal Library” particularly stands out to him. He could have sworn he heard it somewhere before.

When he rereads the paragraph, though, he puts together pieces that he had taken for granted before. Most of it doesn’t make any sense because she’s using key words only she obviously knows but Varian gets the gist of it. She completed all of the trials and found the location of the Eternal Library.

that’s all i have for that right now

if you have any questions, feel free to ask

and if you have suggestions, i’d be happy to hear them! i can’t promise any of them will make the cut but if they do, i’ll make sure to credit whoever’s idea it originally was

thank you for reading! if any of you are interested i might be able to post more snippets of it

#varian and the 7 kingdoms #varian and the seven kingdoms #vat7k #varian tts #varian #varigo #hugo vat7k #nuru vat7k #yong vat7k

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lundenloves · 1 year ago

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that’ll do, johnny

This was a request, put in via submission. “Soap x soulmate au? Any au” I ran with my words a little here, I find it easy to write for Soap as he’s dead fun. Hope I proved this man worthy of the hype he deserves. Happy reading, kids.

↳ no warnings | gn!reader | 1.1k

good ‘ol johnny boy. apologise in advance for the scots words, they’re pretty self explanatory if you read between the lines. wain is a child.

At the end of the day.

You and Soap, or Johnny rather, were joined at the fucking hip. That duo who always showed up together, never apart for as long as they could help. It’d been that way since childhood, rainy days in Paisley after his parents had moved back down to the central belt. Pushing and chasing one another around the dull streets, name calling and loud laughs all the way through till late adolescence. Absolutely fuck-all came between you aside from his burning love for Rangers and yours for Celtic.

Match days were a fight, no doubt.

When he joined the Army it pissed you off. You’d known he was going to, christ, it’s all he’d yapped on about till he was old enough. But saying that last goodbye to him selfishly kicked up a storm in your stomach, willingly forgetting to recognise it was all he’d ever wanted. His dream, if you will.

But he wrote you letters, regardless of your sour faced send-off. Letters you’d dampened with tears, allowing the ink to run free across the page, now barely legible. His handwriting was barely legible anyway, but the tears certainly didn’t help.

Didn’t stop you from stashing them into a box under your bed though. An Adidas shoe box titled: ‘Fucker.’ You never were one for warmth.

And over time that box filled with all sorts of shite. His letters, patches, some photos — fuck even a few sticks and random fabrics he’d sent in envelopes with loads of ‘ha ha ha’s’ written on the back. When he got home you’d showed him said box and he still laughed with himself at the sticks.

“Got that in Azerbaijan, I mind picking them up.” His voice would rise in pitch, defending his past self.

Not that he had anything to defend. You’re the one that kept them.

Different story when he’d found the letters. Fuck, that was a day and a half. “You kept these aye?” He’d skimmed through the crumpled paper, “Greetin’ on them too.” A nudge of your shoulder

And that right there was the hour your friendship had transcended into something more. The whole hour actually, feelings were shared and truths came out. Johnny knew. Of course he knew. But you confirming his thoughts felt like getting into bed after a long day. Banging.

After that his deployments were all a routine. You’d cry, hate him for a maximum of a week for leaving you behind in the shithole that was Glasgow, receive a letter and then miss him. Repeat.

Above all else though, you were soulmates and that was absolutely undeniable. Finishing one another’s sentences, laughing until your sides hurt, speaking in silence by exchanging looks across rooms and dining tables. You’d even share your work gossip with him any chance you got, and he’d match your drama with his own, forever the menace even in such a serious profession. Additionally, letting you test your chances against wrestling him from time to time. Never did let you win though.

“That’d be you cheating.” He’d say as his arms pinned you down, “You’re no even tryin’ are you?”

Windup. Merchant.

“How’d they even let you in, you’re a big wain.” You’d frown at him, attempting to kick his stomach only resulting in a grapple to the floor.

“They let me in ‘cos i’m class.”

There wasn’t anything specific about Johnny that made you love him. It was a mix of everything, time included as you’d convinced yourself it was love from the ripe old age of thirteen. And actually, so did he. Whether it was a platonic love he’d recognised or something more — he told you all the time. Forever the emotional soul, Johnny. “I love you, y’know, kid.” Even though you were the same age. “You’re the one darlin’, marriage!” All slurred whenever you’d picked him up from a drunken night out, allowing him to crash in your bed.

He was a softy, really.

Again. Not that it was a secret.

You loved the way his eyes turned soft whenever listening to you, always finding yours in a room full of people. The hand he instinctively placed on your lower back when walking you through a crowd. His dirty cackle. The smile he produced enough to cover for both of you, the story-teller in him and the proud compliments he gracefully gave you in public.

But Johnny loved even more about yourself.

He loved your attitude and the way you stood up for yourself. ‘Bite n Fight’ as he liked to call it. He loved your eyes and how expressive they were, your brows that never failed to host a frown you weren’t even aware of. Each and every one of your habits, ones he’d always take for granted before leaving for months at a time. Your gorgeous smile and that dip on your bottom lip that was only reserved for his. Your roaming hands, the way they wandered up toward his hair whenever you’d kiss him deeply, pulling at the roots lightly but still tight enough to provoke a growl from him.

He just loved you.

So that night last Summer when he’d finally got down on one knee and fumbled his way through a speech, making himself (and you) laugh in the process. It was fucking emotional. “I ‘adn’t prepared one.” He’d smile with his teeth together, lifting his shoulders up toward his neck in laughter. “Yes or no. Christ, my knee can’t handle this.”

“Yeah. Yes, obviously yes.” You waved your hands in a gesture for him to stand up, laughing loudly into the night sky when he had lifted you up and kissed all over your neck.

Soulmates were an odd concept.

You never thought you’d meet yours, not until Johnny had stuck around and practically taught you the definition of the word over years. Landing the MacTavish name and unlocking endless boring stories about his family history and the clan.

Although, you’d be lying to say you didn’t enjoy the way his face lit up when telling you about it all. As if you weren’t Scottish yourself, and hadn’t heard his stories over a hundred times.

“You’re no even listening, mate.” He’d quirk a brow, stretching over the table to bosh your flat palms with his own.

“Don’t fuckin’ mate me. And I do listen, thanks. All Highland and…” You’d drag out the last letter before a long pause. “Stuff.”

“Yer a minx.” He’d push a hand through your hair to purposely mess it and wind you up, receiving a smack to his still outstretched palm. Loud laugh filling the room as well as your heart.

taglist? fill out this form.

#soap modern warfare #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod mwii #cod mw soap #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw fanfiction #soap fanfic #soap mactavish

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thebawdybaldurian · 9 months ago

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BG3FicFeb Day 18

SFW: Angst with a happy ending

Background: Tav, Astarion, and Halsin are in a poly amorous relationship. Tav and Astarion had planned to remain child-free, but when Tav accidentally becomes pregnant, she decides to carry the child so that her lover, Halsin, can have a child of his own.

NSFW: Illithids/Any Monster

I'm not really into monster fucking, so I'm just going to do a little what if drawing of Illithid Tav and Astarion that I'll post of my Twitter and Tumblr.

Tav was near the end of her pregnancy by the time a bout of severe anxiety hit. She was also constantly exhausted, her belly enormous, which she scowled at Halsin for. She fully expected their child to come out half-grown and nearly as big as he was. She stayed in bed most of the time, waddling around the cottage if she needed to use the toilet, which was frequent, or when both her husbands had gone out to get her things. They were both doting on her with all the care they could muster, trying to alleviate her anxiety, but it usually ended in her screaming at them to get out.

She feared she had made a mistake in keeping the child, that she would either hate it or never be able to let it go and become as controlling and emotionally abusive as her own parents had been. She worried the child would tear her body in two coming out or leave her unable to continue her life as a performer. She stressed about her husbands leaving her, raising a child all alone or if the child became very ill. She had made her husbands promise that her parents could never know about the child, because if they learned they had blood kin, they’d do everything they could to take it from her.

She slept fitfully in bed, Halsin and Astarion out dealing with the final preparations for the baby’s arrival. She’d been restless the entire day, trying to rearrange furniture and organize the kitchen despite her awkward size. The men had just been in the way, so she’d shooed them out with a few choice words. She finally awoke in terrible pain, her lower back aching and radiating around her to hips. She thought at first she’d just strained it pushing the couches around, but when she pulled back the covers, she saw both her chemise and the mattress underneath her was wet. “Great, I’ve pissed myself,” she sighed, rocking herself like an upside-down turtle to get out of bed with her enormous belly.

She groaned loudly as she got to her feet, the pain even worse. She immediately felt the urge to use the bathroom again and wondered if the baby was just squeezing her bladder for fun now. She waddled to the bathroom, pulling at the neck of her chemise so she could take it off and put on something dry. As she sat on the toilet with another loud groan, she could see her thighs tinged with blood-streaked mucus. “Oh…” She looked at it, feeling the anxious knot in her stomach squeeze tighter. “Shit, shit, shit, what does this mean?”

She waddled naked into the living room, in search of one of the midwives guides Halsin and Astarion had gotten her, but had only skimmed over because they were either boring or made her more anxious. Both her husbands had read them cover to cover, but neither of them were here now. She found one and began flipping through it before she became overwhelmed by a terrible cramp that doubled her over in pain. “Ahhh, what are you doing? Are you coming out?” She cried. She flipped through it again as the pain subsided and she found a section about preparing for labor. “Bloody mucus…yes…intense cramping…yes…” she continued down to checklist of signs of impending labor. “Shit! You asshole, your fathers aren’t even here to help!” She swore at her unborn child, looking down at her belly.

The bulk of her weight had shifted further down and she knew the baby would be coming anytime now. “Can I delay it in any way?” She looked through the book again before being overwhelmed by another cramp. “Gods! Please!” She yelled, barely able to stay on her feet. She was tempted to slip off the ring that allowed Astarion to walk in the sun, just for a moment, to alert them that something was wrong, but she worried about breaking the blood bond spell completely. It also meant that she couldn’t go for help, as it was still the middle of the day, and his sun affliction had been transferred to her. Halsin had at least coached her on their birth plan, utilizing her enormous bathtub for a water birth.

She waddled back to the bathroom and turned the faucet on the tub on, overcome by another cramp that brought her to her knees this time. By chance, or perhaps husband’s intuition, Halsin and Astarion returned at that moment, hearing her cries from the bathroom as they entered the cottage. “Clataedre!” Halsin tossed everything in his arms onto the kitchen table and ran to the bathroom. He found her leaned up against the tub sobbing. “My heart, what happened?” He helped her up.

“The baby…is…ahhhh coming…right now!” She moaned as the cramping subsided for a moment. “I thought I was going to have to do it alone.”

“I’m here, my queen, my beauty,” he wiped her tears away and kissed her cheeks.

He adjusted the water and helped her into the tub as Astarion came in. “Is it time?” Astarion looked at them.

“We believe so,” Halsin nodded as Tav groaned from another cramp.

“How far apart have the contractions been?” Astarion asked.

“I don’t know!” She yelled, as this one was the most painful yet. “I can barely think. I hate you both.”

“It sounds like she is very close,” Halsin tried to hide a grin.

He stayed at her side, prepared to assist in the delivery, as he’d done with several others both as First Druid and at the commune. Astarion knelt behind her to offer to moral support and a hand to squeeze. “Breath, Clataedre, it will be time to push soon,” Halsin checked her cervix.

“Fuck you!” She growled. “You both did this to me. I going to…argggggghhh…rip your cocks off!”

She squeezed so tightly on Astarion’s hand that he cried out. “Tav, you are hurting me!”

“You think this doesn’t hurt?!” She screamed. “Why are you smiling!?” She turned her attentions back to Halsin, who was grinning widely at her rage.

“I’ve witnessed she-bears give birth with less fury,” he blushed, gently stroking her stomach. He had to admit he was a little turned on by her ferocity.

“Well, if you don’t get this cub out of me, I’m going to feed you to one,” she scowled, having a brief respite from her contractions.

They came again soon enough and then it was time for her to push. She had let go of Astarion’s hand, for fear of breaking it, and gripped the edges of the tub as she growled. “That’s it, my love, I see the head. One or two big pushes and you will be done,” Halsin trembled with excitement, his first and only child nearly here.

She was exhausted and breathing heavy, her rage sapping all her strength. “It hurts so much, I can’t,” she cried as Astarion rubbed her shoulders.

“I know you can do it, my love,” he nuzzled against her neck, wrapping an arm around her chest. “We’ve gotten through worse, yes?”

“Yes,” she cried, preparing to bear down and push again.

She strained her throat as she pushed, groaning loudly as she felt the baby slip free of her hips, a sharp cry filling the bathroom. “It’s here!” Halsin said with more joy in his voice than could ever be contained. He cradled the baby in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. “It’s a boy, a beautiful, perfect boy.”

Tav opened her eyes, utterly exhausted and sunk back onto the tub. Halsin was beaming, his cheeks wet from tears, holding an enormous infant with a head of downy silver curls. “His…he has silver hair…just like,” she looked back at Astarion, who was crying as well.

“Silver hair is rare among the Silverboughs,” Halsin smiled. “So we will truly never know who the father is.”

Tav sunk back onto the tub, grasping Astarion’s arm, until she was once again overwhelmed by a terrible contraction. “Agggh, I thought it was over!” She cried, gripping Astarion’s arm tightly.

“It should just be the afterbirth,” Halsin looked her over, handing the boy to Astarion for a moment. He had no idea what to do with his son, having never held an infant before, so he just held him as tightly as Halsin had. Halsin saw movement around her still swollen belly and his heart skipped a beat. He’d listened and sang to her stomach almost nightly for the past few months and once or twice thought he’d heard a second heartbeat, but it had always synced back up to one. “My heart,” he looked in her eyes, his hands still on her stomach. “There is another coming.”

“Another!” Tav and Astarion said at the same time, their son crying out a little as they shouted.

“Another contraction? Another…ahhhhh,” she twisted in pain again, feeling the urge to push.

“I thought I heard a second heartbeat once or twice, but his must have been much louder than this one’s.”

“Twins?” Astarion’s eyes widened.

“They are a little less rare in the Silverboughs. I suppose I should have mentioned that,” Halsin blushed, moving to deliver their second and wholly unexpected child.

“Yes, you should…ahhhh,” Tav panted, barely able to keep her head up.

“This one should be much easier,” Halsin smiled, rubbing her belly. “This child appears much smaller.”

“Than the giant I just squeezed out?” She slumped a little. “I can’t…I’m so tired…”

“I know, my heart. Just a few more pushes…You have now given me the greatest gift in the world twice over…I will carry you everywhere…for the rest of your days.”

“You better,” she scowled, summoning the last of her energy to push.

Her cries were more subdued and she struggled a bit less, finally pushing free their second child, a petite and beautiful girl with the same downy silver curls as her brother. “A girl,” Halsin sobbed, as his daughter looked up at him quietly with the same amethyst eyes as her mother.

“Is she alright?” Tav slumped against the tub again, completely weak and exhausted. “She’s not crying.”

The baby cooed slightly, seemingly content to come into the world with much less bluster than her brother had been. “See for yourself,” he handed her their daughter so he could attend to her afterbirth and heal her. “I think she will be quiet and contemplative like her mother.”

“She has my eyes,” Tav smiled, as the tiny girl cooed softly again.

“He does as well,” Astarion beamed, still holding his son and looking down at his new daughter.

“This won’t be too much for you?” Tav asked sleepily as Halsin healed the tears to her pubic region. “Two infants at once…and all the other children at the commune.”

“I was given two arms for a reason,” his face hurt from smiling so much. He took the child back from Tav and motioned for Astarion to do the same, instructing him to always cradle the boy’s enormous head. “I will get the cubs put in their crib…we will need another at some point. Astarion can get you put into bed to rest,” He leaned in to nuzzle his head against hers and then planted a kiss on Astarion’s cheek. “I love you both more than anything.”

Halsin took the two drowsy infants to the bedroom and got them cleaned up and swaddled, before placing them in their cramped crib. He’d carved it by hand, but he would not have time to make another one. With her brother being much larger, his daughter would need her own as soon as possible. Astarion helped Tav up after kissing her deeply, showering her with affection. He guided her slowly to the bedroom, easing her down into one of the well-stuffed reading chairs they’d brought down from the loft when she’d gotten too big to climb up. He changed the soiled bedding quickly and brought her a clean chemise to wear that tied at the neck so she could nurse.

Their daughter finally began to fuss a little, so Halsin brought her over to nurse for a moment. “I think her brother was hiding her as a surprise,” Halsin smiled, helping Tav ensure she got a good latch. He stroked the infant’s head softly, her downy curls now dry and perfect just like Astarion’s.

“Quite a surprise,” Tav smiled, her eyelids fluttering from exhaustion.

Their daughter drifted off to sleep after a brief suckle, Halsin taking her back so Tav could rest. Astarion helped her into bed and tucked her in with another long kiss. Halsin had taken Tav’s chair, staring down at his daughter as she slept. He already knew she would consume his entire world. Astarion peeked at his son, dozing in his crib and then went to Halsin, planting a kiss on his forehead and stroking his daughter’s curls. “Thank you for doing this for me…both of you. I know neither of you ever expected to be parents…but you can have as much influence in their lives as you wish,” Halsin looked up at him.

“I can’t speak for Tav, since she was the one who actually had to carry them, but your smile made it all worth it,” Astarion grinned, leaning down to kiss him on the lips. “And they both have my amazing hair.”

Halsin laughed quietly, hoping not to disturb his sleeping daughter.

“I’ll head back out and look for another crib. We will need double the supplies now,” Astarion beamed, placing a gentle kiss on his daughter’s soft head.

He floated back down to the market like he was on air. How had his life changed so dramatically in only a few years? He was free of Cazador, in love with two people who adored and doted on him, and now he had two beautiful children he could watch grow up under the care of the most kind and gentle man that he’d ever met. He didn’t care how near impossible it was that they were actually of his seed, despite their hair. Whether or not the tadpole had changed it so he could bear children or that they just shared some of his traits by coincidence, he didn’t care. They were the fruit of a love he could never have imagined.

He found his way to one of the nicest furniture shops in the city, passerbys stopping to comment on his warm smile and glow, and he would announce that he’d just had twins. They’d offer congratulations and some of the other elves, who knew how rare such a birth was, offered gifts. By the time Astarion left the shop, a crib to be delivered to their cottage as soon as possible, he already had an armful of gifts for the infants. It was a good thing, as he’d left most of his coin purse for the crib, the fanciest and most beautiful one they had. Nothing would be good enough for his little princess.

He returned to find both Tav and Halsin sleeping in the bed, the girl still in Halsin’s arms and his son nestled against Tav as he’d nursed and fallen back asleep. He climbed in next to Tav, snuggling against her and taking his son in his arms, so he wouldn’t roll away. The five elves had an hour or two of uninterrupted rest, before everything began at once again. The crib was delivered with a loud knock, which woke everyone, two who needed to be changed right away and one that was so tired, she barely even opened her eyes.

Halsin attended to the crying infants’ diapers while Astarion brought the crib in. The bedroom was cramped now with the two cribs and the changing table and wash basin. They bumped into one another and carefully wound their way around all the furniture trying to attend to everything. This would be the chaos of the next month of their lives. Tav peeked an eye open, taking one glance at the extravagant crib Astarion had purchased, smiled, shook her head, and closed her eyes again.

#astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #astarion ancunin #bg3ficfeb #halsin x tav #daddy astarion #daddy halsin #halsin #halsin silverbough

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alexissara · 1 year ago

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Upcoming Sapphic Games Goddess List

Hey, well to my check in with upcoming sapphic games, this list cover every single game I saw in my research that is in active development that showed signs of sapphic content. This list because of time of writing potentially may contain a game or two that was released or just by the time of you reading this later but I am doing my best while looking at everything I can to figure out where gay may be. Games on this list are filled with my opinions and don't represent the companies opinions and I wasn't paid or anything to put any games on this list. This post is split into 5 categories Non Visual Novel, Narrative Games, Make Your Own Gay, A Gay Exists and Potentially Gay. So feel free to skim across sections.

Non VN

These are games that are not visual novels that are centered on an explicitly sapphic character. This character's sole romantic interest does not need to be sapphic but the sapphic desires have to be seen as a core part of the character or game.

Cycle

All Lana wants is to figure out the mystery behind her mother’s death. She embarks in a Megaman Zero inspired journey into a strange tower to get her answers. Lana has a girlfriend who is a core part of the story and is prominently shown in the trailers, art and stuff. I believe I even saw her fighting side by side with her girlfriend in a boss battle in the latest trailer.

Contains: Sapphic Lead, Her Girlfriend

Thirsty Suitors

Enter the world of a Southeast Asian bisexual disatar Jala in one of the most stylish games I’ve ever played [the demo of]. It blends some fun skateboarding, with a really neat turned based RPG, and apparently even a cooking mini game into one complete package. The RPG combat is fun, funny and delightful. The story hinges on two romantic relationships that have broken down for Jala, both of whom are women, one she recently broke up with that leads her to go back to her home town and the relationship she fucked up big time in her home down with her former best friend. She battles against her not so evil exes in these RPG style mind palace fights where they resolve their feelings current and former and come to some kind of resolution.

Contains: Bisexual Lead, at least two ex girlfriends

Boss Game [PC Release]

This game is already out but it has a PC release coming up and that’s amazing and great and opens the game up to more people. A pair of Girlfriends need cash and so they take gig work hunting demons but as they take the jobs they start to figure out what’s really going on and to do the right thing.

Contains: Cis Lesbian [lead], Trans Lesbian [lead], A non binary character, a bisexual character

Kitsune Tail

A mario inspired adventure about a little gay fox girl trying to save her crush from also a cute villain she might be into. It’s a super adorable platformer with a very light hearted tone invoking classic games with a modern queer twist.

Contains: Sapphic Lead, Sapphic VIllain, Sapphic Damsel

Love’s Crescendo

This is a Rhythm game visual novel hybrid about a couple of lesbians who are both doing music in their lives at this pivotal point. Valerie and Cadence complete each other, musically. This romantic musical adventure gives a lot of sweet and cute moment for these two and nice musical gameplay.

Contains: Two Lesbian of color Leads

Narrative Games

These are Visual Novels and similar games where the gameplay is mostly reading a story, maybe making choices along the way or playing a few mini games but the mini games do not comprise the core gameplay loop of the story.

Love In A Bottle

Ankora is a lesbian love demon looking for love, in a visual novel point in click adventure she can choose to go after four different ladies. This game boasts a bit of dress up on on Ankora you can unlock while playing the game. It’s a rare dating sim where everyone is a clear adult and everyone is another kind of fantastic creature.

Contains: Let’s Go Lesbians, Let’s Go

Pen Pal Princess: A Queer Romcom Visual Novel

You play as a queer princess looking to make her own love story. This is a game about online dating in a modern fantasy setting, it’s a cute and sweet concept and feels so relevant in a world where so many queer people date long distance.

Contains: Sapphic Lead, some amount of sapphic romance options

Flower Knight Hú Dié

A solar punk RPG with a lesbian main character, Hú Dié. After the Flower Knights failed her most important friend she wanted nothing to do with them but she finds herself thrown into a situation dealing with the monsters and more that infest the world.

Contains: Lesbian Lead, Sapphic Romantic Interest

High Elo GIrls

You play as a black college dropout who gets drafted into an all women esports team. You can choose if she is Top, Jungle, Mid, DPS, or Support and the kind of relationship she has with each woman. I am not currently aware if polyamory is an option but there is some degree of customization to the relationships.

Contains: Sapphic Lead, 5 women to romance including at least 1 trans woman.

Hardcoded

You're a sexy trans girl android and you are gonna have sex with some people. There is mysterious in this cyberpunk world you gotta solve and the best solution for a service android like you is fucking your way to the top. You explore, make out with hot women, and do your thing.

Contains: Lesbian lead, Big old lesbian cast [maybe they have some other sexualities and genders]

Make Your Own Gay

This category goes over games that queerness is an option but I believe it is possible for a heterosexual who doesn’t like gay people to play the game and just kinda, miss the queerness. This is typically games where you choose to ship characters together, normally your avatar character. This places games under a pretty high bar because straight people are not very smart on the whole and are really bad at reading media critically or engaging it. For me a lot of these games are obviously queer in some way and also these games are not out, so I have no way of knowing for sure. This placement is not an insult and I actually expect several of the games in this part of the list to be some of my favorite games.

Fields Of Mistria

In this game, you start a farm in a new town, connect with local villagers learning their stories and potentially even romancing some of them, your gender does not matter. Enjoy a cozy environment of lovely people and enjoy a wonderful farming adventure. Explore dungeons, fight monsters, and more. Customize your character with a selection of appearances and customize your home and make it feel like it’s truly your own.

The games special thing is an amazing 90s anime aesthetic. It’s magic for farming system also seems particularly streamlined.

Contains: Women, Men and Non Binary characters you can romance. Customizable character.

Moonstone Island

This games special thing that it has monster tamer with a really fun deck building element for your attacks.

Contains: Women, Men and Non Binary characters you can romance. Character who you can just assume is whatever gender, they are never gendered.

OVA Magica

This games special thing is that it’s kinda like pokemon and has cute little slimes.

Contains: Some women you can romance Customizable characters.

Story Of Seasons: A Wonderful Life

In this game, you start a farm in a new town, connect with local villagers learning their stories and potentially even romancing some of them, your gender does not matter. Enjoy a cozy environment of lovely people and enjoy a wonderful farming adventure. Customize your character with a selection of pronouns and appearances [She/He/They] and customize your home and make it feel like it’s truly your own.

This games special thing is that you grow old and die and get to see your kid grow up.

Contains: Women and men you can romance. Customizable character including three sets of pronouns.

Fae Farm

In this game, you start a farm in a new town, connect with local villagers learning their stories and potentially even romancing some of them, your gender does not matter. Enjoy a cozy environment of lovely people and enjoy a wonderful farming adventure. Explore dungeons, fight monsters, and more. Customize your character with a selection of pronouns and appearances [She/He/They] and customize your home and make it feel like it’s truly your own.

This games special thing is that is has online multiplayer and fairy shit.

Contains: Some Women you can romance. Customizable character including three sets of pronouns.

Lakeburg Legacies

A city, kingdom, town, world building type game where the game centers around pairing the people you put into your town, having them work jobs and create resources and them creating babies. You can decide what characters you want to move into your town and pair them with your gender of choice so you can filter out men totally if you don’t wanna see them [except you can’t pick babies genders]. It doesn't’ appear to have any trans stuff going on and the characters are like randomly generated silly things with a few traits. Still it’s a fun type of this game and I could see myself enjoying a few loops of it.

Contains: The ability to pair people up with the gender of your choice. You can’t control the gender of their babies.

Our Life: Now and Forever

This is a truly deeply in depth life sim that trades the depth of romantic options opting for two to give you a truly ridiculous amount of customization about yourself from growing up and transitioning changing your pronouns to altering all sorts of things about yourself and relationships. This is a game about living your life from childhood to adulthood together with someone.

Contains: Genderfluid and Lady Romantic lead, your able to pick your characters pronouns, transition them during the course of the story, and more. Customizable kind of relationship dynamic from love at first sight to slow burn.

The Office Type

What if office stuff was hot, you can date that hot office stuff. It’s a dating sim where you can pick your pronouns and stuff and date all sorts of office themed hotties.

Contains: Choose your own romances and choose the genders of all the options in the game between Lady, Guy and non binary.

Imperial Grace

A diplomacy and romance visual novel where you make choices for your kingdom and choose who you would like to smooch.

Contains: Contains Customizable Queen, 1 lady you can romance, has a detailed list of triggers for players to be aware of what their getting into.

Solace State

A cyberpunk story about building a revolutionary movement as Chole. YOu build relationships with people and communities. Chole can hack people’s brains and get information on their thoughts. A moral system that seems to be based around your choices in not a binary way but a, how do you evaluate the ethics of doing the actions your doing to make the world better. You can make the world worse or better in the game.

Contains: 1 Lady you can romance

Call Me Under

An Eldritch Horror romance where you can pick between three sets of pronouns He/She/They and romance a collection of hotties in this 50s inspired horror world while trying to figure out about the missing people in town and the other horrors brimming of late. You can be half siren or a human depending on that things in the story will change.

Contains: Several Women and Non Binary romantic options, a Sapphic Polyamarous route, character who can pick between human and half siren and She/he/they pronouns.

Stray Gods: The Roleplaying Musical

A muse has died and your character got her power, now the worlds a musical and you gotta solve her murder otherwise you're gonna be the one who pays for her getting killed. It’s a unique musical visual novel with a big cast of big names.

Contains: Woman Lead, two romacable women [? not confirmed], main character is probably canon bisexual but couldn't confirm in demo so here for now [but probably actually a narrative game].

Spirit Swap

Spirits are all around us and matching 3 pops them. In this match three game you play as Samara and look for love while trying to fix the issue with the spirits in town to utterly amazing low-fi tracks. For people looking to take a break from the story of the game you can also enjoy several other mods including playing against other players.

Contains: Multiple Romantic options of varying gender including sapphic ones. Main character is probably canon bisexual but in the demo her attraction to men was a lot clearer to me then her attraction to women and I think a straight person might not catch she is gay.

Love Shore

A true cyberpunk adventure where you pick between one of two protagonists. For our purposes your Farah. This game is probably not properly a make your own gay but your not gonna get any sapphic content in one route and I think you can technically avoid it. Regardless, this game boasts a really awesome weaving plot and some sexy horric monsters you might be able to kiss too. There is some hidden stat elements which is a neat part of the game and it overall seems really cool.

Contains: Your selection of one of two protagonists, one of whom is a woman and queer. You got to choose her to get to the sapphic stuff with at least three romance options that are ladies.

Gales of Nayeli

This game is still really early in development as far as I know so it’s hard to say how much will remain consistent but I was told directly that Nayeli and Keri could have a romance and Nayeli is the title character of the game so the main character of the story is sapphic to some extent [they also assured me it wouldn’t be the only sapphic pairing in the game]. I simply cannot judge if that is something we see in the story because we’ve not got that kind of trailer yet. There is also an avatar, one we can assume can have romances, you can pick their pronouns but not edit their appearance. This looks like a really fun strategy RPG in the vein of Fire Emblem, with grid based tactics and if your into that and want some sapphic stuff, this is one to keep an eye on.

Contains: Sapphic pairings between party members, self insert character who you can choose the pronouns of but not edit the appearances.

A Gay Exists

This Category is for games with ensemble casts, in which a sapphic character might exist in the game, be playable, be unavoidable but they are also not the focal point of the story but instead just a small part of the story. A gay does exist in this game they in theory could even be in the lead but you might not know it like a game starring Wonder Woman or Harley Quinn where in canon they might be bisexual but the game simply might avoid ever stating it.

Granblue Fantasy Relink

Set sails through the sky in a high flying action RPG with a wide cast of characters from the popular gacha series Granblue Fantasy. It features the canon bisexual icon Rossetta as a playable party member seemingly from the start of the game.

Contains: At least one playable canon bisexual. Player insert who can change genders on the fly. One playable subtextual sapphic knight.

Granblue Fantasy Versus Rising

Bullshit could or could not be blazing in this Arcsystem Works fighting game follow up expanding the cast of Granblue Fantasy Versus and the general contents of the game. We don’t know the full roster but the roster of all the last game is included giving us for sure several pieces of representation.

Contains: Two Trans women, one canon lesbian, several more subtext sapphics.

Potentially Gay

These are upcoming games I think probably will be sapphic to at least some extent in any of the above categories. Simply put, unlike the one’s above, I Am not confident enough to include them in the lists above because we simply haven’t seen any evidence to show that sapphic stuff exists. At least not in any trailer, demo, interview, or whatever that I researched when putting together this already very long list, so please be easy on me.

The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood

The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood is a card creating, fortune telling, narrative game about revenge, isolation, and more. You play as Fortuna, a witch who has been put into isolation without her magic or the ability to see anyone else by her Coven’s leader. She calls on a mystical being and makes a pact so she can get her revenge. During the game you can express romantic, sexual, etc desires and it seems like you’ll be able to craft some relationships as well as the cards.

Rune Factory 6 and Rune Factory Dragon

In these games you’ll probably be able to pick your pronouns, romance people regardless of gender, and use magic to enhance your farming. Both will likely contain dungeons with simple combat and a light action RPG story to play. You probably can get married and have kids, you maybe won’t be able to customize your character beyond picking gender but you probably will be able to customize your house.

Fantasy Life I: The Girl Who Steals Time

The first fantasy life made it where you could only be straight but at this point, Fantasy Life would be the last remaining life sim series to not let you be gay unless they totally cut out romance. I think literally the last life sim with romance to not let you be gay was like Rune Factory 4, a 3DS game. This game isn’t a farming game but it stands out next to the sims and other similar games as well.

Hades 2

The first one had a bi guy lead, I assume this time you’ll be a bi girl.

Dark Deity 2

The first one had an gays, I assume this one will have an gays as well, hopefully more, I wasn’t totally in love with how they did supports in Dark Deity 1.

Beastieball

Really this one is just vibes based, the art style says “queer” to me. Also your little beasties can start romances with each other and tehy don’t have genders but I bet you could do some making your own gay shipping with your little pokemon.

En Garde!

The vibe of the main protagonist is serving lesbian. Please Devs at Fireplace games, tell me she kisses a woman, even in private, I won’t tell anyone if I am not allowed too, the game looks fun and I just want her to kiss a girl.

--- That is all for now but if you enjoyed me doing all this research and putting it together in a really nice place for y’all then consider backing me on Patreon or Ko-fi or recommending me for work,I got my card on my page with professional contact info. Other than that you can always just follow me, reblog, share on whatever other social media sites are your poison. If you know any other sapphic games that are not yet released PLEASE let me know, want to know them all and I’m going to keep a new list after this article goes up for a few months from now when a lot more of these games are out or maybe next year around not E3 time again.

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 7 months ago

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Hell Hath No Fury (19/?)

Thank you to everyone for reading and for all of those who left comments on the last chapter! I really appreciate it, and I’m so glad you’re enjoying a lighter and happy Kate Beckett. I always enjoyed how light and free she was once she got together with Castle. I love exploring the difference between Kate the woman and Beckett the detective.

This is another chapter dealing with the July 4 holiday.

I still don’t own Castle...

xxxxx

“You okay?” Castle asked her, his fingers running through her hair and lightly skimming over her bare shoulder.

Kate breathed deeply, contently, snuggled into his side with her head on his shoulder, her fingers drawing gentle lines down his bare chest before her hand flattened against his skin and skated across his stomach below his navel. “Mmm…I’m okay…” she murmured softly. “Just thinking.”

He smiled slightly. He’d come to love moments like this where they were still naked in each other’s arms, tangled in each other and the sheets after making love. She was more open in these moments with him, more vulnerable in the quiet of the dark in the shared bed after moments of passion between them. She told him a lot about herself and her feelings in these moments; it was as though it were easier to bare her soul to him with words after doing so physically. He also knew her well enough not to push her. If she wanted to open up and tell him what was on her mind, she would…and she usually did in these moments…but if she didn’t, he was okay with that too.

Her leg was thrown over his, her foot between his shins running slowly up and down his calf muscle even as their feet stuck out from the bottom of the sheet that was bunched up near their waists. “Something my dad and I talked about yesterday.”

“You’re thinking about your dad when we’re in bed together?” Castle made a face.

“What?” she picked her head up to look at him. “Ew! No, Castle. Definitely not,” she wrinkled her nose at the thought. “I told him I wished my mom could have met you,” she told him softly.

“Really?” he smiled, his fingers lightly gliding down her back.

“She would have loved you, Castle,” she smiled slightly. “She loved your books. She’s the reason I even read your books to begin with.”

His smile grew. “Your mom was a fan?”

Kate chuckled softly, resting her head back on his shoulder. “Mom was a big fan. She had your books…kept trying to convince me to read them, talking you up to me as the next Patterson,” she told him with a small smile as she remembered. Her smile faded slightly then. “One of the last Christmas presents she gave me was In a Hail of Bullets. Even though you had several books published by then, she insisted I start at the beginning,” she explained. “She was determined this ‘cute mystery novelist with a gift for words would bring some fun into my life.’” She lifted her hand from his stomach to wipe a stray tear from her cheek before it could hit his skin.

He tightened his hold on her and he listened patiently, as he always did when she revealed pieces of herself to him, especially pieces as vulnerable as information about her mother. He didn’t ask questions or probe her for any more information. He’d let her go at her pace and stop when she was ready.

“I didn’t have time to start reading it at Christmas, and after her death, I didn’t…couldn’t…touch anything for a few weeks. But then I saw it one afternoon…still in the box with the tag that had my mom’s handwriting. And I remembered how much she loved your books. So I grabbed her favorite blanket that still smelled like her from the couch, wrapped myself up in it, and read the entire book in one sitting. For those few hours, it was like she was still there…I could feel her with me.”

She shifted so that she could look up at him again while still keeping her head on his shoulder. “She was right; you do have a gift for words. After I finished In a Hail of Bullets I went to her bookshelf and found your other books. I read them all, wrapped in my mom’s blanket. From that point forward, I pre-ordered every new release. And while I waited for the book to come out, I would reread some of your older books.” She was quiet for a moment, giving him a shy smile.

“Kate…” he started, but she placed a finger on his lips to interrupt him.

“Wait, I’m not quite done,” she told him. “So what I was thinking was that the last Christmas present my mom gave me was the best one of all.” Seeing the questioning look on his face, she smiled a little more. “You. She gave me the gift of you. And she was right…that ‘cute mystery novelist with a gift for words’ brought fun into my life again, first with your words, and then as...well, you. It’s like she knew something I didn’t…it’s like she somehow knew that I would need you in my life. And I did…your books got me through some of the hardest times after her death, you’ve been by my side through some of the most difficult moments solving her murder, and you’ll be by my side when I find whoever is behind it. My mom’s last gift to me was to bring us together…” she trailed off, wiping away a few more tears. “And if she were here right now, she’d be saying, ‘I told you so, Katie,’” she gave an amused laugh. “So…now you know my fan story.”

Castle silently shifted so that he was hovering over her slightly, leaning down to catch her tears

with soft kisses to her cheeks. This was one of the few times in his life he was actually speechless; he had no words, couldn’t come up with any words significant enough to respond to what she had just confessed to him, what it meant to him. Even telling her he loved her didn’t seem to do justice to the piece of herself she’d just revealed to him. He did all he could think to do in that moment, which was kiss her deeply and hope it conveyed his feelings.

She responded, her hand curling at his hip and slowly sliding up his chest, her leg wrapping around his thigh to draw him closer as she deepened the kiss. And even though they had spent a good portion of the night exploring their passion for and with each other, and not even an hour ago she had awakened him for a round 3, she was pressing her body against his again. “Make love to me, Castle…” she breathed in his ear, her mouth trailing along the column of his throat before she laid back against the pillows and looked up at him.

Looking into her eyes, he saw the raging storm of passion and desire he so frequently saw there now. But this time he saw something different, something extra; it was like he saw into her soul, like she had just opened the window for him and was letting him fully into her body, into her heart, into her. He realized she was giving her heart, herself to him completely…holding nothing back anymore. As the sun’s rays began peeking through the curtains, he made love to her as though their lives depended on it, and it was the most intimate, emotional, earth-shattering experience he’d ever shared with anyone.

xxxxx

“Morning, Lanie…” Kate greeted her friend with a huge smile, definitely still in a love haze from her morning activities with Castle, despite the fact that she’d showered and dressed since then.

Lanie chuckled, sipping her coffee. “Damn, girl, how much sex did you have last night?” Seeing Kate’s look as she poured herself a cup of coffee, Lanie rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that look. You come strolling in here with that grin and that glow…that’s right, girl…ya glowing. That glow that just oozes ‘I got so laid, and I'm loose in all the right places.’ So I’m gonna ask you again…how much sex did you have last night?”

“Enough,” she gave her friend a knowing smile as she took a drink of her coffee. “Though technically it was last night and this morning…” she murmured over the edge of her cup before taking another drink.

“Impressive. Castle really has his stamina back, huh?” Lanie smiled.

Kate took another drink of her coffee. “Mmm…yes,” she grinned.

“Good morning, Kate. Lanie,” Alexis greeted the women in the kitchen before Lanie had a chance to press Kate for any more details on her sex life with Castle. “Is Dad still sleeping?”

Lanie hid her amused look behind her coffee cup, so thankfully Alexis missed it, but Kate definitely caught it. “No, he’s in the shower. He should be out soon. I went first so I could come get coffee,” she gestured to her cup before taking another drink.

“I bet you do need coffee…” Lanie murmured under her breath with a smirk, earning herself a look from Kate.

Seeing Alexis open the fridge and pull out some yogurt, Kate stopped her. “Your dad said he’s making pancakes as soon as he finishes up in the shower if you want to wait.”

“Oh, thanks for the heads up. I’m definitely waiting for pancakes,” she swapped out the yogurt for some juice instead.

Kate was about to say something else when Castle walked in. “Morning,” he greeted.

“Yeah, I heard about your morning,” Lanie teased him.

Castle shot Kate a questioning look, but she simply ignored him and focused on making him a cup of coffee and refilling her own cup instead. “Morning, Pumpkin,” he kissed his daughter’s head.

“Morning, Dad. Kate said you’re making pancakes,” she smiled.

“I am,” he nodded, moving to his girlfriend and taking the cup she offered him. “Thank you,” he grinned at her.

“You’re welcome,” she grinned back, tugging her lower lip between her teeth as she met his eyes.

Castle easily got lost in her eyes. He met her lips for what was supposed to be a soft kiss but turned slightly more passionate.

“Hey, hey, hey! Tongues in your own mouths…there is a child present!” Lanie interrupted them with an amused laugh.

“Sorry, Pumpkin,” Castle offered his daughter an apology as Kate reached up to wipe his lower lip slightly with her thumb.

“Yeah, sorry Alexis,” Kate offered her a small smile.

The girl just gave them a smile. “I’m used to it,” she shrugged. “Besides, if I don’t say anything about Dad and Kate, then he can’t say anything when he sees me kissing Ashley,” she added

with a smirk.

Kate had to hide her laugh behind her coffee cup at the look that crossed Castle’s face. “Now wait a minute…”

“Uh uh…fair is fair, Writer Boy,” Lanie chuckled.

“But…”

“Weren’t you making pancakes?” Kate interrupted him.

Castle huffed like a petulant toddler. “Yes, I’m making pancakes.”

“You need some help?” Kate offered him.

He gave her a smile. “I think I can handle making pancakes.”

She gave him a smile and a soft kiss. “In that case, I’m going to go enjoy my coffee outside. Come get me when they’re ready.” She gave him one more soft kiss before heading out the back door.

“I like Kate’s idea. I’m going to enjoy my juice outside,” Alexis got up and kissed her dad’s cheek, following the path Kate had taken out the back door as well.

“Hola Chica,” Espo greeted Lanie with a smile, walking into the kitchen.

Lanie grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “Morning, Baby,” she murmured. Seeing Castle’s look, she arched an eyebrow. “Don't even, Writer Boy. I don’t want to hear a word after I witnessed you stick your tongue down my girl’s throat not even ten minutes ago,” she shook a finger at him.

Castle frowned. “I did not have my tongue down her throat.”

“Well it certainly wasn’t in your own mouth,” Lanie countered.

Espo made a face. “What are you cooking, Castle?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

“Pancakes.”

“Pancakes? Really, bro?”

Castle raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with pancakes?”

“Dude, she’s like my sister.”

“What?” Castle shook his head in confusion. And then he remembered the case with Jordan Shaw…when he’d stayed at Beckett’s apartment and the boys had come the next morning because of the dead body, and he’d been making pancakes.

“Who’s like your sister?” Ryan asked as he and Jenny walked into the kitchen.

Espo turned to his partner. “Dude’s making pancakes.”

Ryan’s eyes crinkled up as he smiled. “Pancakes, huh? How…domestic,” he couldn’t help but tease.

Castle rolled his eyes. “Guys, that’s not what this is.”

Lanie and Jenny exchanged looks, not understanding what was happening. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong with pancakes?” Jenny finally asked.

“Nothing is wrong with pancakes,” Castle tried to insist.

“Pancakes are an edible way of saying, ‘Thank you so much for last night,’” Espo explained. “Dude’s bragging about getting laid. With Beckett.”

“Dude! She’s like our sister!” Ryan scolded him.

“Guys, I’m not bragging about…pancakes do not say thank you for last night! Pancakes are just…pancakes!” Castle once again tried to insist.

“Pancakes are not just pancakes,” Martha sashayed into the kitchen. “Well, sometimes pancakes are just pancakes,” she corrected herself. “But mostly pancakes are a thank you, an I love you. And you should be thanking Katherine for last night…and every other night she’s already spent or will spend in your bed.” When Castle simply froze and stared at her, she shrugged. “Don’t give me that look. Katherine has more than put the bounce back in your step these last few months. You should be making her more than just pancakes to thank her for all the bouncing she’s done to and for you.”

Castle looked back to the batter he was mixing and dropped some in the heated skillet as the boys, and even Lanie and Jenny couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve had this dream before…only I was naked and far less embarrassed,” he murmured.

xxxxx

“Yo, Castle! We need to talk to you,” Espo and Ryan approached Castle as he worked to start the grill for the steaks that evening.

“Sure, fellas. What can I help you with? You want to take the Ferrari out for a spin?” he asked with a smile.

“Nah, man, this is serious,” Espo stated.

“It’s about Beckett,” Ryan clarified.

“Beckett? What about her?” Castle asked, glancing over to where she was sitting with her dad on the lawn, talking and laughing.

“Look, we’re happy for you guys getting together and all, and you’re our friend too…” Ryan started.

“Yeah, we like you and all, but we just want to be clear on something. We were serious this morning, about her being like our sister. You ever hurt her…” Espo took over, only to be interrupted by Castle.

“Woah, guys! Why would you think I’m going to hurt her? I love her!” Castle insisted.

“You hurt her before. Last summer. The summer before that too, come to think of it,” Ryan pointed out.

“Exactly. And now the stakes are higher, because she loves you,” Espo broke in. “So now we have to have the talk. If you ever hurt her…we,” he gestured between himself and Ryan, “will make you bleed.”

“Just so we’re clear…we’ve got her back, long before we’ve got yours,” Ryan added.

Castle looked between them and offered a smile. “We’re clear. But guys, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I would never hurt her.”

“Good…because Beckett’s a cop, bro. You hurt her, do you really think the NYPD is going to go out of its way to help find your ass?” Espo asked confidently.

“And even if they did come looking for you…dude, her best friend is a medical examiner. You really think they’d find your body?” Ryan added.

“Make sure you remember that next time one of those smoking hot models…or one of your fan girl groupies...comes at you with a…proposition,” Espo told him seriously.

Castle studied them both for a moment. “Look…guys. I am seriously in love with her, alright? I promise you…you have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to cheat on her or hurt her in any other way. I am completely and totally, head over heels in love with her. I promise you,” he assured them. “So are we good?” he asked them after a moment.

Ryan and Espo both studied him for a few moments before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re good,” Espo stated as both boys smiled. They started to walk away, but Espo turned back after a moment. “You…uh…won’t tell Beckett about this conversation, right?” Seeing Castle shake his head no, Espo nodded. “Good.”

xxxxx

Castle and Beckett bypassed their nightly walk on the beach in favor of the fireworks that would be starting shortly after dark. Castle had turned some music on through his outdoor sound system and everyone broke off into their own groups to watch the fireworks. Kate sought out her dad, resting against the railing as she stood beside him while they waited for the fireworks to start.

“I’m really glad you came this weekend, Dad,” she told him softly with a smile.

“Me too, Katie,” he returned her smile. “Martha and Alexis are wonderful. I can see why you enjoy spending time with Castle and his family.”

She smiled a little more at that. “I love his family. Alexis is the most incredible young woman…and Martha,” she laughed softly. “Martha is…one of a kind. She’s been so warm and welcoming…they both have.” She was quiet for a moment before continuing. “It’s nice, you know? Doing the family holidays again…being part of a family like this again,” she told him softly. “He gave that back to me.”

Jim smiled, putting his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and pulling her closer against him. “And you’re giving that back to me.” She wrapped her arm around his back and rested her head on his shoulder as the fireworks started out over the ocean.

When the fireworks ended about half an hour later, Jim gave her a smile. “I think it’s time I head in. I’d like to finish up the book I borrowed from Castle’s collection before I leave tomorrow.”

Kate nodded and leaned in to kiss her dad’s cheek. “Night, Dad.”

“Goodnight, Katie,” he smiled and gave her shoulder a squeeze before heading inside.

Kate heard the music change as the patio lights came on, and she turned her attention to her friends. Spotting Castle setting up several bottles of liquor, some bottles of wine, and some

glasses at the patio bar, she joined him. “Opening Club Castle, huh?” she arched an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “It’s been a while since we’ve all just hung out. I thought it might be fun.”

“I see. So…are you playing the bartender? Should I flirt to get some free drinks?” she teased him with a coy smile.

Castle arched an eyebrow slightly. “Uh…”

“Don’t flirt with him, Kate. You’ll fry his brain,” Lanie teased, coming over to grab a couple of glasses and pouring both her and Espo some drinks.

“Hey, she will not!” Castle insisted.

Lanie simply laughed. “You think the little banter you two have and some of the innuendos she throws your way is her flirting? I’ve seen this girl hardcore flirt…trust me, Writer Boy. You couldn’t handle it if she were really flirting with you.”

Kate chuckled softly as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. “She’s right, Castle. I don’t even have to try when I flirt with you. You’re easy,” she smiled.

He frowned at that. “I’m not easy.”

“Dude…you kinda are,” Ryan joined in as he grabbed a couple of drinks for himself and Jenny.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Kate assured him softly, leaning against the bar as she sipped at her drink. “I like that you’re easy for me. You’re interested,” she offered him a smile, letting her hand run along his arm slowly. “Promise I’ll break out my hardcore flirting for you one night…but not when we have company,” she leaned in to tell him softly, her eyes dancing playfully as she pulled back.

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Kay,” he managed to get out.

She gave him a grin and set her glass down, taking his hands and pulling him with her as she began swaying her hips to the beat of the song playing. “Let’s dance, Castle.”

Before long they were all dancing. And as he watched her dance with Lanie and Jenny, he couldn’t help but smile. He’d never seen her so carefree, so relaxed. “Gentlemen,” he started, looking at Ryan and Espo, “We have got to be the three luckiest men on the planet.”

“I’d agree with that,” Ryan nodded, smiling as he watched Jenny.

“Definitely,” Espo agreed, finishing up his drink before moving to dance with the girls.

Ryan and Jenny were not surprisingly the first to call it a night not even 20 minutes later. Lanie and Espo stayed and danced, mostly with Kate because Castle couldn’t help but just watch her move, but after a while longer, Lanie leaned in to whisper in Espo’s ear, and they quickly said their goodnights after that.

Kate finished up her drink, and as the soft, slow strands of “In My Veins” began playing through the speakers, Castle moved closer to take the glass from her fingers and set it on the bar. “Dance with me,” he said softly, pulling her into his arms.

She grinned, resting her cheek against his as she wrapped her left arm around his shoulder, her fingers gently brushing along the skin of his neck. She closed her eyes and just let him hold her, guide her along with the beat of the music. “I love you,” she whispered softly in his ear.

He smiled at her words, pulling his head back enough that he could kiss her gently. “I love you, too, Kate. Always,” he promised her, nuzzling her nose before kissing her again.

You’re in my veins

And I cannot get you out

You’re all I taste at night

Inside of my mouth

You run away

Cause I am not what you found

You’re in my veins

And I cannot get you out

xxxxx

I do not own the song “In My Veins.” It was released and is owned by Andrew Belle.

I hope you guys enjoyed this one! I look forward to the comments from those of you who leave them! I truly love reading your thoughts on the story!

#castle #caskett #kate beckett #richard castle #castle fanfiction