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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months

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Part 2 to: The Lieutenant's Whore

Dom!Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader, John "Soap" Mactavish x fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Hearing what he shouldn't have, Johnny is rightfully angry and what does he let that anger lead to? A bad attitude that leads to even worse decisions. As you confront him about this sudden change in demeanor, things start to heat up. What happens when Simon finds out? Actions have consequences and Johnny is about to learn that you will only ever belong to the man behind the mask.

Word Count: 11.6 k

Warnings:

The promise of going one more round had kept you in Simon’s bed, completely naked and filthy as you eagerly waited for him to get hard again. Another shared cigarette was being passed between you both to wile away the time so there was no real need for conversation; you didn’t come here to have a heart to heart, though you would have waited for hours and hours if it meant you could experience even more of the depravity that had just transpired.

As the burning smoke was exhaled out of your lungs and past your lips, a thought popped into that devious little head of yours. “You do realize that it’s the weekend, don’t you?” you questioned him casually as you passed back the cig for him to take a drag.

Simon placed the stick between his lips and drew the poison deep into his chest. “What of it?” he questioned back before he upturned his eyes at you with a smirk on his lips, letting you know that he was on to your train of thought. “You got somewhere to be, luv?”

You chuckled. “I sure do,” you played as you moved yourself onto him to straddle his lap between your thighs. You held up your fingers to count off things one by one. “Let’s see, where do I start? There’s on my back, on my knees, bent over with my ass in the air. It’ll probably take a couple days to get to it all.”

Simon shook his head with a roll of his eyes as he dug his meaty fingers into the bulk of your ass before giving it a swift smack. “So what I’m hearing is that I’m going to be absolutely knackered come Monday, is that it? Does my little slag want me to keep her dicked down all weekend?”

“As if you had a fucking choice,” you said with a devious smirk, “though it is easier to have you on board of your own volition. Do you know how hard it was waiting to do this again? Oh, no you’re gonna make it up to me and my sore fingers by keeping me busy for the next two days.”

As if he was ever going to say no to that proposition; as long as you both stayed locked up in here, no one would notice that you two had started something that would not be easily stopped. “You goin’ soft on me already? Can’t stand to think ‘bout bein’ away yet?” Simon picked mercilessly.

“You wish, bitch,” you didn’t even miss a tick, “there’s only one thing I’d miss and it’s situated between my legs right now.”

For emphasis, you rocked your hips over that meaty appendage and felt a twitch. Coming back from the dead already. Good, you’d give it a bit more to make sure that it would keep growing. Once it was quite stiff, you stopped rolling your hips and sat still; he was gonna pay for that remark.

“But, I need to grab a few things from my room before we go again,” you continued. “I will need to clean myself from time to time and lord knows I’m not about to use whatever 5-in-1 you have rotting away in the back of your shower.”

Of course you’d pull this shit the minute his cock was almost fully hard again. Fucking infuriating skank, why the hell did you make him enjoy the torture so goddamn much? Your palms were against his bare chest for leverage as you were about to move back off of him, when his hand firmly clasped around your chin to keep you in place. Going toe to toe with you since last night had been a thrill and even now he enjoyed matching your energy.

“Fine, I’ll let you go, but you’ve got approximately ten minutes to get your shit and get that sweet arse back here,” he said, drawing your face into his until his lips were nearly on your own. His breath was harsh from the tobacco, but you didn’t care; you liked him best filthy. “Best hurry, luv, cause if I’m left waitin’ with this stiffy any more than what I’ve fuckin’ given you, I’ll make you ride the tip of my boot with your bare pussy until you’re beggin’ and pleadin’ with me to do you proper.”

Fuck. That was enough motivation to get your heart racing and ready to go and you quickly swung your leg off of him so you could exit the bed. His eyes stayed glued to your back as you went in search of your discarded clothing that lay scatter around his floor. As you redressed, those auburn eyes traced the outline of your bare ass until it vanished behind the tight fabric of your jeans.

“Hate to see you leave, but goddamn is it a fuckin’ pleasure to watch you go,” Simon purred through the billowing smoke of another cigarette as he watched you throw back on your disheveled shirt so you could make it across base without gathering an indecent exposure charge.

You shot him one more quick glance before rushing off. He had pulled the sheet up just over his legs and lap as he lay propped up against the wall with his arm behind his head. It was hidden behind the fabric, but you could still see the outline of his cock starting to tent it up and that only made you want to hurry even more. No sense in wasting all that for some clean clothes and a bit of shower gel.

It was still pretty early as you stepped outside Simon’s quarters, the sun’s first light had barely even started to lighten the sky yet so you felt sure that no one would be skulking around to see you leave. Not after last night anyway; most of the others were probably just tucking in to sleep off the booze. You crossed through the base with not a care in the world other than getting back to what was waiting for you beneath the covers.

What you could not have known was that someone close by had heard the sound of the Lieutenant’s door opening and you making your way out. Soap had wanted nothing more than to sleep off not just the alcohol, but the sinking feeling in his chest at what he had stumbled upon earlier in the evening; his mind had other plans though and after sitting in the silence of his room, letting the agitated thoughts run rampant through his mind, he had decided to leave before he worked himself up more than he already was and did something really fucking stupid.

A striking set of blue eyes clocked you nearly running through the base back to your barracks, still wearing the same damn clothes you had on the night before. Soap bristled at the sight as he felt that burning anger welling up in his stomach once again, which only got worse when he saw you exiting the barracks in the same quick manner with a bag now strapped to your shoulder.

He didn’t want to, but quietly he followed behind just out of sight and sure enough you were returning right back to the Lieutenant's room just as he feared. As he watched Simon meet you at the door with just the sheet from his bed barely clinging to his hips and drag you back inside, he felt his heart sink straight into his feet as his fists balled themselves tightly together.

If this was a one and done thing, a drunken mistake that you had let run its course, then Johnny was sure he could get another chance to win you over. But seeing you return to that room destroyed any hope he had that he would get the opportunity to show you that he could give you an experience just as spectacular as what he had heard through the walls in that brief moment.

Kicking the dirt beneath his boots, he stormed off back to his private quarters and entered with an agitated huff as he slammed the door behind him; he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him like this and asking their dumb questions that would surely rotten his mood even further. The wall shook as the door made impact within its frame, the percussive sound reverberating off the walls. “Fucking pussy,” the Scot cursed himself. “Ye lost yer chance at her because ye had to be a lovesick pup. All fur whit?”

Cracking his knuckles before re-clenching his fists, he pulled back his arm and released it directly into the wall. It was enough to make the wall give, but luckily not enough to leave a permanent mark. “Now she’s getting fucked by that bastard,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “That was suppose tae be us in my bed. ‘twas mah name she was suppose tae be moanin’.”

His anger was supposed to be directed at himself, as there was no other that was to blame. Who was the one that pussyfooted around the topic whenever it seemed to present itself? Who was the one that got to worked up at times to meet your obvious flirting with some of their own? And who was the motherfucker that decided to let you leave the bar that night without even asking you if you wanted to go back to his, when you had been all over him all night? All of it was Johnny’s fault in the end.

It was clear he had let his crush mess with his head and though he should have taken the loss and moved on, his mind decided it would rather put that anger towards someone else and that new target would have to be the Lieutenant; he was the one that got to have you while Johnny sat alone with only his hand to keep him satisfied.

So now Simon would have to deal with Johnny’s wrath. And he made sure to start putting that aggression to good use before the day was even out.

Sweat was pouring and limbs were entwined, cock pumping in and out of a tight hole when several hours later a loud knock sounded through the room, making you startle with a jump and Simon grumble with agitation. Try as he might to regain composure to continue, it was shattered when again a loud bang rang out.

Pulling out of you and hopping out of bed in a flurry of anger as he threw on a pair of sweatpants laying near to cover himself, he crossed the room and wrenched the door open only to be met with - nothing. He stuck his head out to look around the area, but it was quiet and undisturbed with not a soul in sight, which only pissed him off more.

You silently listened, curious as to what the intrusion to the middle of your screwing was, but there wasn’t a sound. With a grumble under his breath Simon shut the door and made his way back to you. “Fuckin’ nothing,” he confirmed, slipping quickly back out of his pants and joining you under the covers.

“Whatever it was, it’s done now,” you said trying to get him to focus back on the task at hand. “We probably needed a breather anyway.”

“Done already, sweetheart?” he smirked, setting the tone back to what it was before you were both so rudely interrupted. Frustration be damned, there was still fun to be had.

You shook your head before extending your finger and poking it straight into the middle of his chest. “Now you’re just wasting time. Get back inside me before you regret it.”

And just like that he was back in the moment as he shoved you onto your back, getting between those legs once again like the good little soldier he was to pepper your tits with a flurry of kisses.

Before evening hit that same instance happened twice more, always when you both were in the thick of it when things were the most heated and not easily stopped; it wasn’t as if you weren’t taking breaks, but whenever those long stretches of time came around, they passed by undisturbed. It was clear that someone was doing this on purpose, but the question was why? You were going out of your way to be as quiet as you could, though there were a few times you just couldn’t help it. Still, if someone had a problem with the sound, why not just say something since no one knew you were in there?

It was all very strange, but since the perpetrator couldn’t be caught you tried not to give it more mind; no sense in ruining your weekend. That was until you entered the dining hall that night for supper with Simon in toe like your own personal scary guard dog, and you noticed a significant shift in the atmosphere.

Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that you and Simon were in close proximity and hoping to keep the status quo so that your little secret wouldn’t be found out, you had decided to sit and eat separately. It wasn’t what either of you wanted, but you’d be back in each others company soon enough after you refueled.

Looking through the hall for a place to sit, you caught sight of Soap sitting off from the main group he usually hung with. It struck you as odd; it wasn’t like him to eat alone. Grabbing your food, you made your way over to him and took up a spot by his side. There was a noticeable shift in him the moment you stepped near; where he had been close and talkative before, now there was distance and silence that filled the space between your bodies as he didn’t even bother to greet you. That was not normal at all.

“Hey you, fancy meeting you here.”

You watched as his back tensed as if he had been spooked, caught off guard from being lost in deep thought, but he did not say anything in return to your greeting.

“Everything alright?” you asked as you took your seat, setting your food down and turning your body to face him in your seat with a curious eyebrow raised.

Soap quickly looked at you before he diverted his gaze into his plate, messing about the food with the tip of his fork. It looked as if he hardly had even take a bite yet. “Fine,” he answered curtly, still not meeting your eyes.

It sounded off to you and the whole thing just felt wrong, though maybe you were simply reading too much into it. The alcohol had been plenty last night and it was possible the Sargent had just overdone it after you had left the bar. That was a rare occurrence for sure, but it did happen every once and a while; perhaps last night was just another time you could add to the tally. Nudging him in the ribs with your elbow, you tried to cut the tension with a joke.

“Did the liquor make you her bitch?” you picked, expecting the usual cheeky comeback about him being able to hold his own, but you were only met with him jerking away while his spine visibly bristled at your touch.

He cleared his throat. “No.”

The reply felt even shorter than the prior one and whether or not he was going to admit to anyone right now, something was definitely wrong. “Okay, okay,” you said as you held your hands up in surrender, “just trying to make conversation, but I can see you’ve got your fucking knickers in a twist.”

Nothing, not even a smirk. Whatever it was that got to him had really sunk its fangs in deep. Fine, no more picking since that seemed to only make it worse. Maybe a deviation in conversation would work better.

Picking up your own fork, you began to mess about with the food on your plate. “You know, I really had a good time with you last night. We really need the team to get out more often when we have the time so we can have more fun together.”

The clang from his fork hitting his plate as he threw it down caused those around to look up at the both of you. The suddenness of his action shut you up as you waited to see what he would do next. Quickly he stood from his seat and gathered his things, still without ever making eye contact; he wasn’t going to sit there and listen to anymore of this inane bullshit, not when he was actively trying his best to forget the way you felt against him and all that pent up sexual tension he couldn’t hope to explore anymore.

“Ah gotta go,” he muttered as he left you sitting there, wondering what the hell happened.

You watched him leave the hall before you turned your sight over to Simon sitting not far from you and shot him a look of ‘what the fuck’, which was only met with a subtle shrug. He had noticed the unusual interaction as well, though you knew his feelings about you and Soap, so it wasn’t much consequence to him that he was leaving you alone now. At least he wouldn’t be trying anything with you again as long as he was away.

Still, with the incidents earlier, it was just too much of a coincidence to fully ignore the change in him. You ended up eating in silence just thinking over everything that had happened since the bar in hopes that maybe you could figure it out, but by the time you were finished you had nothing and so you let it be. Besides, Simon was already staring at you, waiting for you to discreetly follow him back to that den of sin that would be your residence for another day so you could end the weekend on a good note.

And what a glorious fucking time it was. The knocking only happened once more and Simon had not even stopped that time. “If it’s important, they’ll fuckin’ say so,” he had grunted as his pace didn’t even slow while he continued pounding into you.

Those sheet were absolutely ruined by the time you were both finished, covered in enough stains to create an entirely new pattern on the fabric, though neither of you were complaining; you didn’t have the strength to. Shit, it was a bitch to even think about leaving, though you knew that you had the privilege back that whenever the mood struck again all you had to do was come find him.

And yet even though you were going to leave there completely and utterly satisfied, something was still eating away at you and it had everything to do with a certain Scot with a newfound sour attitude.

“Something is seriously up with him,” you conjectured as you were drying off after just getting out of the shower, before you were set to get dressed and leave. “I have a sneaking fucking feeling he knows something is up. I think I should talk to him before this gets out of hand. I’ll probably try and catch him some time this week for a little chat; if he does have suspicions we don’t need him spreading that shit around.”

“Probably should avoid being alone with him when you do it,” Simon added.

You paused. “Is that for my benefit or yours?” you shot him a knowing look.

He stared right back at you. “Yours if you know what’s fuckin’ good for ya,” he said firmly. “He’s livid now, but there’s no sense in risking him tryin’ to get close to ya again.”

“Oh, possessive much?” you chided him. “I can handle myself.”

Getting up from his seat on the bed, he moved in and his aggressive kiss hit your mouth quickly. “Never said you couldn’t,” he returned as he broke the connection. “But I don’t want no manky bastard tryin’ anything with you, ever. I meant what I said, sweetheart.”

You kissed him back once more. “I’ll be fine.”

A swift smack to your backside punctuated your kiss. “Fine,” he conceded. “Now, get your arse outta here before I change my mind about lettin’ you go back to your bed.”

It was a few days before you found the time to actually address the Soap situation, as whenever you went looking for him the man could not be found. Literally, you would hang around his usual places, hoping to casually run into him and strike up conversation, but it wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t till the middle of the week when opportunity presented itself and found you at the right place and time. As you were passing through the superior’s offices on other business that evening, you saw it just out of the corner of your eye. The bright, florescent overhead light shone from inside his office; he seemed to be the last one still there, working late. Immediately you jumped at the chance to confront him, your feet carrying you quickly in that direction before he had the possibility to evade you once again. Whatever this was that persisted between you both was going to get resolved one way or another right here and fucking now.

Rapid fire knocks upon the open door to his small office made Johnny look up from his seated position behind his desk where he sat busy with paperwork and the moment his sight clocked you, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Can I come in?” you asked.

Johnny immediately diverted his gaze just as he had been, his emotions getting the better of him. “Ah’m kind o’ busy at the moment,” he brushed off your question as he pretended to busy himself with the papers on his desk, but you weren’t satisfied with that.

You took a deep breath as you stepped over the threshold. “Look, I think we need to talk.”

“Ah dinnae think we do,” he scoffed back.

See, again this wasn’t normal. There was no way in hell the old Johnny wouldn’t jump at the fucking chance to engage in chitchat if it meant you would stick around. Something had crawled up his ass, that was certain, you just didn’t know what.

“Johnny,” you said, brow furrowed at this sudden shift in attitude towards you lately. “What’s goin-”

“It’s Sargent tae ye,” he snapped, immediately shutting you up and cutting you off before anymore could be uttered, “’n’ ye’ll do well tae mind that.”

“Well excuse me,” you said angrily, instantly agitated by the way he had just jumped down your throat unprovoked. “What the fuck has got into you lately? Maybe you want to fill me in as to why all of a sudden you want to act like a bitch and pull this rank shit with me? I thought we were friends.”

“Friends?” he repeated the word with a sneer.

“Yes, friends,” you reiterated. “Ya know, pals? Good buddies? Or was I wrong?”

You had come here under the best of intentions, to clear the air of whatever the hell was going on, but his sudden hostility towards you changed all that without a second thought. Johnny wanted to continue with this bullshit then you were going to match that energy; you weren’t one to be fucked with. Even still, you needed to get down to the bottom of just how much he knew and fast.

What he said then took you by surprise. “What? Ah thought ye got wet by men in higher ranks,” the statement slipped angrily from his lips.

“Excuse me.”

Finally he looked back up into your face. “Did ye think ah wouldn’t fin’ oot about what it is ye’re up tae, hmm?” he questioned. “Aboot ye ‘n’ Ghost getting far tae familiar. Oh, thought yer wee secret was safe did ye?”

You stared back at him, furious. How the hell had he found out about that? Had he been following you when you didn’t realize it? You swore you’d been more than careful at keeping all that on the downlow. “I knew you were sweet on me, but fuck Johnny, you stalking me now?”

He shook his head. “Maybe ye should learn how tae fuck more quietly, lass,” he scoffed. “Ye’re lucky the whole base didnae hear ye taking th’ Lieutenant like a fuckin’ whore the other night, though now that ah think aboot it maybe they should. Maybe Price would like tae hear aboot this gross miss use o’ rank manipulation by one o’ his favorites.”

Oh, so this is what it was all about…that bit alone made it blatant; it was him that had been trying to sabotage you getting dicked good by the big man on base and it was all because he was jealous. His snide, underhanded comment made that crystal clear. You should have seen this coming a mile away, what with how he was practically in your pants at the bar that night, but being blinded by an overabundance of top quality dick can make anyone blind. Still, you never thought he would go as far as to threaten you; honestly you didn’t think he had it in him and it caught you slightly off-guard.

“Why don’t you just shut up and admit it,” you shot back with white hot aggression at his weak attempt at blackmail. “Admit that the only reason you’re standing here right now acting like this is because you didn’t get to tap it first. You had your chance the other night, do you know that? Shit, you had even more chances than that if we’re both being honest, it’s not my fault you didn’t jump on any of them. You snooze you loose, bitch, and now it’s the Lieutenant that gets all this to himself.”

Johnny had never been jealous of the masked man before the other night, but hearing that he had squandered his chances to have you only made his blood boil in his veins. All the time you had both spent together, all the flirting, was it all for nothing because he wasn’t headstrong enough to be his usual cocky self and go after what he wanted?

And then the bar, he hated to think it, but was that all a part of some big game? He had had his suspicions the way Simon had stormed out of there that night and you following not long after, but so entranced by your company he was that he let it slide. Now that he really thought it through it was something he had to push out of his mind because he knew he might not like the answer if he thought about it for much longer.

Cheeks burning and mouth dry, his emotions got the better of him and Johnny couldn’t stop the shit spewing forth from his mouth as he rose to stand on his feet. “Ye think ye’ve won th’ lottery, dinnae lass? Sure, L.T. might be able tae give yer body what it needs, I dinnae know what kind o’ game he’s got, but what aboot when he’s finished? Ye think he’s really th’ best option tae keep aroond?” he questioned, as he moved out from around his desk, closing the distance between you both with a few steps. “A’ve been soft aroond ye because of my feelin’s, but if ye wanted someone tae treat ye like a slag in th’ bedroom all ye had to do was say so. But what aboot after that though? How aboot also bein’ treated like a princess in public, cause if that’s th’ case yer lookin th’ wrong direction Bonnie. L.T. dinnae seem the type for that sort o’ thing.”

“And what if I like being treated as only a toy and nothing more, hmm?” you pressed him. “Maybe I don’t want to be your princess; maybe I like being a whore?”

Damn, he knew you were rough around the edges, a strong broad who knew exactly what she wanted, but something about a girl who wasn’t about to let a man make her feel weak in any sense of the word only made him want you more. Tough women who posed a challenge to win over made the Scotsman weak in the knees.

“An what aboot when he gets tired of ye, hmm? Ye know he will. Ye gonna come crawlin back tae me then?”

You smirked; god, he was trying his hardest to slide his way between you and Simon. Could you really blame him? No, but that didn’t make his disrespect any less. “Is this your angle? Talk shit and think it’s gonna change my mind, like I don’t know what the hell I’m getting myself into. Cause that’s pathetic.”

The corner of his lip upturned. “Na, pathetic is th’ way I’d have ye begging me fur more before Ah’m done, baby girl.”

Well damn, that wasn’t half bad, you thought with a chuckle. Eyes locked to his, you gave him a impressed nod. “I almost believed you, good job,” you praised his performance mockingly. “But I’m not some little girl that you can just throw on the charm and seduce; you think you know the type of woman I am, but you’ve only hit the tip of the iceberg baby. You gonna talk a big game, big man, you gonna have to live up to it.”

“Who says ah cannae?” he pushed back. “Maybe ye dinnae know me as well as ye think ye do either. Maybe ye’re afraid tae admit how much you want me.”

As if you had so easily forgotten how he used to act before his little heart had grown attached to you; like you hadn’t been there times before where he had picked up a girl from the bar, using not only the charm of his quick wit, but his slick attitude to win her over. Perhaps he had forgotten that you had not always been the object of his desire, but that was besides the point.

Johnny was trying to cross a dangerous line with you and that would not stand, not one fucking bit. Offended wasn’t the words because let’s be honest, being lusted after was anything but euphoric. However, if he thought he could come between you and Simon he had another thing coming; no matter what he did, there was no way you would not be immediately running back to the ghost-masked man of your desire. That didn’t stop you from playing the game though.

“I’m genuinely curious now since you want to talk your bullshit,” you said. “I know you have a cocky streak in you a mile wide so come on, let’s see it; show me what you got if you have the balls for it. Cash in on the checks that that mouth of yours is making. But, you know if ‘he’ finds out what you’re doing its not gonna end well for you.”

You thought calling his bluff would make him back down, but your challenge had the opposite effect now. The short distance that still existed between you both was now reduced to nothing and you could feel a muscular arm sneaking its way around your hip towards your back before he sharply snapped it back into himself with you in its grasp, pressing your body fully up against him. “Ah’m not scared o’ th’ likes o’ him.”

“You should be,” you smirked. “You think he likes to share? If you’re not careful you are gonna be in a lot of pain.”

That hand at your waist slithered its way down to your ass, where he palmed it and gave it a tight squeeze over your pants as he made your hips grind against him. “A’m done talkin aboot him ‘n’ what he wants,” Johnny said. “How aboot we talk aboot if ye want me tae stop.”

Fuck, the air suddenly felt thick with forbidden lust and though you would never belong to anyone other than Simon, it was hard not respond to Johnny’s overwhelming intensity for you in that moment. His other hand not currently gripping your ass found its way to the back of your head and he laced his fingers through the strands of your hair where he held them locked down before pulling to make your head jerk back and expose your neck.

Leaning in, his breath wafted over the tender flesh down towards your collar bone. Nostrils caught the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with your natural musk and it made his head spin. “Ye think ye know whit a’m capable o’, Bonnie, but ye have no idea. Why dinnae show ye just a taste o’ it? Think ye can handle it?”

You stayed silent as he brought his head in closer towards your own, his lips inching in towards your mouth steadily. Confident and headstrong looked good on him; he should have started with that from the beginning and maybe you both would have moved past friends sooner, but now that you knew what true domination felt like, he could never hope to live up to that. As good as you felt in his arms, there was no forgetting the man who was consistently making you come.

“Please, can I handle it?” you mocked. “I’d have you whimpering on your fucking knees in an instant if I wanted to.”

“We’ll see aboot that, lass,” he said as his lips were almost upon yours, his growing hard-on pressing into the bulk of your thigh. Desperate boy, you thought. The warm, sticky heat moistening the air around your mouths from your mixed breaths, his grip on the back of your head tightening as he agonizingly rendered the distance between you to near zero, made your pulse quicken in response under his touch. Just before that first connection…his lips nearly there…you could almost taste him…a voice boomed into the room from the door making you both jump.

“Mactavish!” a gruff voice bellowed out from right at the doorway, making the Scot’s head turn with a snap towards its source. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’? You off your goddamn rocker?”

There he was in all his glory, the owner of your cunt, standing there menacingly as he took up the entirety of the exit with his size; his eyes flared with an overwhelmingly intense hatred for the man currently putting his hands all over what belonged to only him.

Leaning in towards his ear as Johnny kept his sight on a pissed off and fuming Simon, you chuckled low and seductive. “Uh oh, someone’s in trouble,” you said in sing song fashion. “Told ya.”

Stalking inside with a huff as his pulse raced through his veins to make his body shake, Simon slammed the door to the office shut behind him and locked it, securing all three of you inside until he decided when and if he would release you. That strong jaw shifted back and forth under his mask as he ground his teeth together to stop the rage that would surely make him end up in military police custody for homicide from consuming him, though if Johnny didn’t let you go soon those twitching muscles in his forearm from his clenched fist would soon be connecting with whatever he could get his hands on.

“This doesn’t concern ye L.T.,” Johnny spat, still clinging to you tightly, “I sugges’ ye leave.”

“Fuck no, this directly involves me,” Simon hissed, cracking his knuckles that were itching to bash his skull in. The vitriol in his voice had enough of an acidic bite in it that it could have burned a hole through the fucking floor. “You currently have your filthy mitts all over something that doesn’ belong to ya. I sugges’ if you want to keep those hands attached to your goddamn arms you will get them off ‘er, now.”

“Ah think she can decide fur hers-,” Johnny tried to hold his ground, but that was not about to last. There was no chance in hell he could out intimidate the master of intimidation.

Simon cut him off abruptly before he could continue with this blatant disrespect by getting directly into his face, planting his boots firmly into the ground in case he needed to take more drastic action to get the bastard to release you back to him. The hate-filled glare that bore into Johnny’s eyes made a sneaky shiver run up his spine. “Do you think this is a fucking game, mate?” Simon threatened low and menacing, his accent getting more heavy with his growing anger. “I am not fuckin’ playin ‘round here. Get your filthy fuckin’ hands off of what isn’t yours. Now.”

The rage brewing within Simon’s words were not meant to be taken lightly and as he wasn’t about to move until you were free, there was nothing more he could do. Looking back towards you once again, Johnny bit his lip hard to stop himself from popping off without thinking things through and ripped his hand out from around the small of your back and off your hip.

“Come ‘ere,” Simon snapped his fingers at you and you shot Johnny one last look of ‘I did try to warn you’ as you crossed in front of him towards your lover.

Christ, that was too close for comfort and Simon needed to re-stake his claim right then and fucking there before he lost his goddamn mind; you were his. His. And Johnny was going to have to understand that right this fucking minute. Keeping this whole thing a secret only worked when no one was trying to worm their way between you both, now that Simon had seen with his own two eyes how his treasure had almost been stolen by someone he called friend he couldn’t see straight; he had to rectify this now and there was only one way.

He had to make his claim known without a shadow of a doubt to the one trying to undermine it.

Once you were within range, Simon grabbed you and spun you around quick; flinging your back at the wall before he pinned you against it. The full weight of his body pressed you into to surface as if he were trying to fuse you into it. In the same breath, his customary mask was wrenched above his mouth and he wasted not even a second before he took your lips heated and greedily with force.

Johnny had not kissed you, Simon’s sudden intrusion had made quite sure of that, but the bastard’s lips were near enough that that hulking beast of a man had to remove even the specter of their touch by taking them with a dizzying intensity that left you clenching your thighs. Goddamn was he grateful that a sudden knot in his stomach had told him to come find you; if he would have waited and Johnny had gotten to you he would have lost his fucking mind.

“Fine,” Johnny growled angrily at this garish pissing contest that he was being forced to witness as you both had him blocked in; screw this small ass office. “Ye’ve proven yer fucking point. Ah got th’ message. Now, how aboot ye get th’ fuck oot.”

Simon ignored everything around him except for you, his lips too busy performing that intricate dance of back and forth, connecting and reconnecting over and over with your full lips again and again until your mouth burned with the friction. Hands roaming your body, following curves that he knew by touch alone, periodically smashing up against you, a whimper escaped from you and Simon readily drank it down. You closed your eyes as you let him fill you with his possessiveness; this is why you could never ever belong to another.

“Did ye hear me?” Johnny piped up once more, done watching someone else make you come apart at the seams. He wanted you both out, now. “Ah said ah got it; Ah’ll leave her alone. Ye can fuckin go.”

One more hard, lingering kiss was left across your mouth before Simon broke the connection and paused a moment to admire his handiwork. Your lips, bright red and swollen from his assault, your cheeks blossoming with color, with the lust-drunk look plastered on your face, all made up the perfect picture. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Does he know?” Simon posed the question under his breath.

You nodded as you held Simon’s gaze. “Pretty much all of it,” you confirmed that there was no sense in hiding anything anymore as Johnny was aware of your involvement with each other.

“You want me to go, really? For what? So that you can try this shit again ‘nother time?” Simon challenged while keeping his eyes solely on you. “Sure, you’ll cool down for a bit, but let’s be honest mate; take a look at her, you aren’t gonna stay ‘way for long. No, no one’s going anywhere. Ya haven’t learned well enough yet, but that’s gonna be rectified right here and fuckin’ now.”

Giving your lower lip one last quick nip, he released you from his grip and turned to face his Judas. Brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, Johnny’s posture shifted as he stared back, waiting to see what Simon would do. His palms grew sweaty as Simon moved back towards him, pointing a thick finger hotly towards the chair stationed behind Johnny’s desk.

The idea came to him in a split second as rationality had fled when the anger had settled in, a nugget of a thought that was born that first night you and Simon had rekindled your passion for fucking each other’s brains out, and now it returned to the forefront of his thoughts. The way you nearly vibrated with excitement on top of him that night when he brought it up, he knew you would be more than game for it if he suggested it now; of course his perfect little whore would want nothing more than to please him.

“That type of disrespect isn’t gonna fuckin’ fly with me,” Simon hissed. “You knew she was not up for the takin’ and yet you still tried. Now you are gonna pay; you’re gonna sit there and watch as I fuck her right on your desk. You’re gonna listen as she screams my name and see first hand just why she is mine and mine alone.”

This was ridiculous; as if Johnny were just going to stay here and take this shit. “Ye cannae do this,” Johnny said in protest, but it was in vain as Simon was not going to give up; the beast had been provoked.

“Oh yes I can; you brought this on your goddamn self by putting your nose where it didn’t belong. Now, sit - the fuck - down before I make you,” Simon demanded and begrudgingly Johnny followed orders. The skull masked giant was scary intimidating when he wanted to be and with the several inches in height he had on the pretty boy in this enclosed space, it was enough to make him submit.

Johnny subdued, Simon refocused back on you. That rough palm cupped your cheek, making you look up at him and only him. With a heavy touch he drug the thick pad of his thumb over your lower lip as he stared at their fullness with hunger in his gaze.

“How about it, hmm?” he asked. “Why don’t we give Johnny boy here a show he won’t fuckin’ easily forget; it’ll be just like you wanted. Don’t you want him to see how good you take me? He thinks he knows what you need, how about we show him how bloody wrong he really is.”

The idea of performing in front of Johnny was enough to make your head buzz with the sudden intensity of your arousal. You would have allowed the entire base to watch you get plowed by Simon, getting absolutely destroyed by his massive cock, if he asked it of you, but Johnny would do just fine.

“Fuck yes,” you agreed without hesitation. Your lover had been disrespected after all and you knew with the way Simon was fuming that the rage-fueled sex would be oh so good right now.

“Good girl,” Simon praised in the gravely tone that fit his accent to perfection. “That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

Your lips already raw and still parted as you waited for his mouth to come back to yours, eyes hooded with lust, you did not even protest as those large hands moved down the front of your torso and took hold of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head to leave you standing in your bra.

“She’s really giving you a treat, Mactavish. You think everyone gets this view?” Simon spat back behind him as he moved you both right before the desk with you in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. He may be the only one who could touch you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want others to watch as he did it. No, he wanted to parade you around just to show off what others couldn’t have.

Those muscular arms crossed themselves across your torso, pushing your tits together to give them more lift as they sat still inside your bra while his mouth found the crook of your neck where he laid the first of a few quick nips. “Neva seen such a glorious sight, have you Johnny?” he groaned, looking down into the peaks of your breasts that had popped up over the top of your lingerie. “Let’s make it even fuckin’ better.”

With one hand he drew the clasp in the middle of your back together, pinching the sturdy fabric until the tiny hooks unclasped themselves and your bra hung loose at the front of your chest. Coming back around, his hand grabbed at the middle of the bra and wrench it forward and off your shoulder to leave your breasts fully exposed. “Don’t need this, I’ve got something for those juicy tits.”

Those two oversized hands of his cupped the fullness of your breasts within their grasps, cradling them against the palms as they spilled a little through his grip. Taking your pink rosebuds between his thumbs and the side of his pointer fingers he rolled the tiny beads around until they stuck out prominently in between his digits.

“You like that you little slag? Fuck, you have enough tits to go around, luv,” Simon said pointedly against the side of your head as he continued to work at your nipples, waiting until he got the whimper he was looking for before addressing Johnny again in mockery. “Doesn’t that just eat you up inside Johnny boy? That I get all of this to my fuckin’ self?”

A hand slipped down the front of your pants and inside the waistband, traveling across the warm, soft skin of your abdomen until it hit the crotch of your pants so that he could cup that rough palm against your sex. A moan escaped your lips as he scooped up against it and applied a good bit of pressure. “Oh,” he hissed delightedly as a dampness instantly hit his hand, “she’s already drippin’ for me, aren’t you, luv? Mmm, I think she’s enjoin’ bein’ the center of attention. Too bad you can’t get a feel of these silky petals old boy; they’re so warm and wet and soft it should be a goddamn crime. Fuckin’ hell, they’d make Satan himself repent ina fuckin heartbeat.”

You could feel Simon’s girth throbbing against your tailbone as he massaged up against your swollen clit, his other hand still cupped around your breast. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, audience be damned. His cock was so hard it was about to rip a hole in the crotch of his pants as he put all his energy into you, feeling it throbbing with each beat of his pulse as his heart worked extra since all the blood had rushed to that girthy appendage.

Head heavily falling back against his shoulder, you let yourself go completely to him while your hips began to move with him as you thrust against his palm to create even more friction. The thrill of having Johnny sitting there, eyes glued to you as if he were unable to pull his sight from your form only made your skin tingle with excitement and heightened your arousal. It was true, you loved being the center of attention and to have Simon so possessive over you was the icing on this sinful cake.

“These have got to go, baby,” Simon’s voice at your ear growled, his hand leaving your cunt for the moment as he tugged at the waistband of your pants. Nimbling he undid the button and pulled down the zipper agonizingly slow and you swore you could hear the second that Johnny had stopped breathing.

Simon’s heavy panting was at your ear as the rest of the entire room stood silently still. If it were up to him in that moment he would have just thrown you over the desk and entered you without another second being spent, but his anger had not left him completely yet and he really wanted his brother in arms to be destroyed.

“Slide them off, easy now; make Johnny squirm with the anticipation of it,” he ordered before he leaned in so that only you would hear the next bit. “Make him pay for tryin’ to take you from me; ruin him.”

Lifting your head back up off Simon’s shoulder you brought your gaze directly to Johnny’s face, holding his sight locked in your own. Your mouth still agape with your short, rapid exhalations you made a show of slipping your fingers into the now opened waistband at the hips. Pushing them just a little, they moved down an inch as you jutted your hip out seductively. Then you paused as Simon latched those lips to your neck.

“Do you want to see me Johnny?” you asked in a breathy whisper. “Cause I really, really want you to see me. All of me.”

Johnny could have easily looked away from the sight before him, no one was forcing him to watch, but try as he might to pull his hungry gaze away he couldn’t. Simon was right, fuck you were gorgeous being absolutely manhandled like that even though it wasn’t him that was doing it. Still, the way your body looked as it flushed pink with the heat of your pleasure made it hard not to enjoy the show. If the tightness now giving the front of his pants a good tenting was any indication, he was going to be in pure agony for weeks on end.

His silent, wide-eyed stare spoke volumes and again you lowered the waistband just a bit more, right at the base of your pubic bone. The little patch of neatly trimmed hair at the top of your pussy had just started to peak through the zipper as you paused for the second time.

Sucking the silky smooth flesh of your neck, Simon hummed into you. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised how well you were following his direction. “Steady on.”

Heavy thumps from his pulsating heart could be felt in his ears as Johnny watched on with baited breath while you finally slipped the cloth concealing your cunt off your hips and down over the curve of your ass, not stopping until you had pulled them completely off your legs and they lay resting on the ground. Standing back up to your full height you gazed back up at your audience with innocent doe eyes as you bit your lip playfully.

“What do ya think?” Simon posed the question to Soap who was now foaming at the mouth. “Can you think of anything more beautiful than this? And it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

God, the ecstasy of being paraded around like Simon’s favorite toy was out of this world and you couldn’t help but revel in the euphoria of it all. As much as you knew Simon wanted Johnny to pay for what he did, you knew that the only reason he agreed to such a punishment in the first place was because he desperately wanted someone, anyone, to know that he had you under his thumb.

And something about how incredibly, indescribably, ridiculously hot that thought was made you absolutely feral.

You ran your hands around your neck and down around your breasts, giving them a squeeze before continuing down the line of your body. You glided over your hips while giving them a twist before stopping just shy of your cunt as Johnny’s chest heaved heavily up and down.

“Fuck,” he said barely above a whisper as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and you smiled.

Simon moved back against you, his forehead resting against the side of your head as he pawed at his cock within his pants, trying to adjust the painfully tender organ to sit more comfortably to no avail; he was too worked up now and only one thing would fix it. Still, lips resting at your ear, Simon gave another command. “Touch yourself.”

That was an order you would not hesitate to follow.

Extending your middle and ring fingers, you slipped your hand fully down between your thighs and split yourself open slowly; fuck, you were just as tender as he was, your throbbing clit could barely take anymore without some form of release. Easing your fingers inside, you found that precious bean and began to stroke concise circles over the top of it.

“Mmmm…” you moaned into your closed mouth as a shiver ran through you.

Pressed up against you, Simon could feel the shake in your arm as you worked yourself, the muscle of your bicep vibrated on his torso and rubbed against his abdominals. He focused everything on the little mewls and groans you let flow out of you like music as you drew out your own ecstasy stroke by even stroke. If your loyalty to him was ever in question, it was resolved now as you followed his orders completely without hesitation.

You were the farthest thing from God as something could get, but the damnation was more than worth it just to covet you all to himself. If Simon ever felt the need to worship, it was your body that would be his religion now.

His hand cupped your cheek to hold your head against him. “What’re you thinkin’ about?” Simon groaned, eyes still closed. “Are you thinkin’ of me as your fingers do all the fuckin’ work?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Say it, out loud.”

You swallowed hard. “I’m thinking of that fat fucking cock of yours plunging deep inside me. Goddammit Simon, please, I need you baby.”

Yes, oh fucking God yes. “Look at Johnny, say it again.”

Eyes heavy lidded found the Sargent’s face. With voice clear, you spoke your truth, unashamed. “God I need to feel Simon’s cock stretching me out, filling me full, making me vibrate. Christ, I need him to fuck me stupid.”

A pathetic whimper sounded behind closed lips as your stroke hit a bit of extra sensitivity. The vision of him finally bending you over the desk to enter you was all you could imagine now and it made you writhe with anticipation.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunted, his phallus bruising your leg as he ground the hard tip into your thigh. “I’m gonna fucking fill you so full to the goddamn brim with me, I’ll have your legs shakin’. You want that, to be stuffed full? Maybe I’ll really stuff you, give you everything.”

His brain was misfiring, his heartbeat pounding, his pupils dilating as each agonizing second passed until he could not hold back a thought that came forward towards the surface of his mind. The ultimate show of possession, the peak of ownership, the true slap in the face of the one watching you both right now. And he let out that thought that was snaking its way through him like electricity.

“How about we make Johnny watch as I fuckin’ breed you?” he growled, low and primal, putting his whole chest into it.

Simon almost had to grab you to stop you from falling as your knees nearly buckled out from under you at his salacious statement. That came out of nowhere to take you completely by surprise, but Jesus Christ what a visual that you were instantly obsessed with now. Was he trying to stop your heart because if he was going to say shit like that he better have a defibrillator on standby.

“Yes, fucking yes,” you whined as you fingers began to move faster and faster against your clit. “Do it baby, fucking breed me. Fill me nice and deep. Make this pussy yours.”

It was so wet between your legs the sound of your fingers stroke through your slick was now audible and Johnny was trying his hardest not to pass out. What he wouldn’t have given to have the balls to get up, throw Simon out, and have his fucking fill of you; that was a dream, but shit was he burning to slide his cock into that slopping mess gathering between your thighs.

“Please, Simon,” you cried out, “take me now. Please, I can’t fucking stand it anymore. I need to feel you.”

Simon’s member was so tender with a deep ache that it was almost painful. Enough was enough, screw Johnny and this bullshit display, this wasn’t waiting another second; if he wasn’t inside of you in the next beat it felt like he would burn to death.

A strong hand gripped your wrist and ripped your hand from out between your thighs before it moved to your hip and was joined by the other on the opposite one. You were being shoved forward, pushed from behind as Simon blocked your hips up against the edge of the desk. You were already bending over it when his forearm pressed into your shoulder blades to guide you down before his fingers were running the length of your spine to your ass.

The other hand quickly pulled down the zipper on the front of his pants and finally he was able to release himself, his pants hanging loosely about his lower hips. His cock was so swollen and feverish to the touch, the moment it hit the cooler air outside his clothing he winced. The two prominent veins along the length throbbed and pulsed with his raging heartbeat and the engorged tip shimmered with a bit of precum that had leaked out.

No time was wasted as he used his booted foot to spread your legs open wider, shifting his hips in against your ass as he slid the tip of his phallus between your damp petals. Slipping it back and forth as few times, he coated himself in your juices; he was about to go all in and he would take as much lubrication as he could so that nothing would be snagging.

Once satisfied he again grabbed your hips and aligned himself, thrusting hard towards your entrance, inserting himself fully into you. You took him all in perfectly, your body swallowing every last delectable inch as if it was designed to hold all of that girth.

“Oh god baby, you’re just suckin’ me right in, you greedy bitch,” he hissed, those fingertips bruising your skin as he held on for dear life. “Christ, take it all, slut.”

He had to pause to collect himself, otherwise this would be over before it had begun. It should be a goddamn felony for you to feel this good, as if it were that first time all over again. You had to have a bit of witch in you to keep him under your spell like this.

Breathing through the waves of ecstasy threatening to undo him, he regained his composure and began pounding into you with strong, robust thrusts, pulling almost completely out of you before slamming back into your core down to the base of his cock. Your body rocked against his intense thrusts, breasts bouncing across the desk as your face was pressed even further into the surface; you could only moan as the euphoria coursing through you at his movements was intoxicating.

A strong grip around your neck from behind picked up your head and pointed it forward right back at Johnny’s face from off the tabletop. Mouth open and jaw slack as you breathed through each delicious thrust from Simon’s cock, you locked eyes with the mohawked Sargent and held his gaze.

“There we go, you keep those eyes on ol’ Johnny boy there, pretty girl” Simon growled. “I want him to see the look in them as you take every last goddamn inch of me.”

The warmth radiating from his body made your skin tingle as your back began to glisten with perspiration; his fingertips left trails of fire everywhere he touched and you were more than willing to burn for him. He kept the pace even, making each thrust count as he hit that tiny bundle of nerve endings inside of you.

You could feel your pulse match his in perfect unison, your heartbeats determining the pace he pounded that cunt of yours. The harder his hips pumped into you, the more the sounds of your bodies slapping together filled the silence of the room. What beautiful fucking music your screwing made. The force shook through your trembling body, but the precision was spot on in hitting that perfect spot time and time again until you were so inebriated on the exhilaration of the over stimulation.

Gagging on his own moan, Simon looked down to watch himself thrust in and out of you. Too much, it was all too damn much; you took him so goddamn well, the way your juicy cunt pulled his cock in. No one had ever made him this pussy-drunk, not in recent memory and as you bucked against his pelvis, that intoxication only grew.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you buck any harder and I’m going to blow my load right fuckin’ now,” he grunted between thrusts. “You want that? For me to fill that pussy full? Why don’t you tell Johnny what you want.”

You licked your parched lips as you struggled to regain your ability to speak. “I need him to fill me Johnny,” you said, your eyes pleading with the man directly in your vision staring, unblinking. Your eyes begin to water, its too good, its too much. He’s hitting deep, as deep as the angle can get while his testicles bounce of your pussy to add that extra bit of stimulation. On your tiptoes, you are backing it up until your ass is flush with him, mouth hanging open as you pant like a bitch in heat, saliva threatening to drip from your lips. “Please, I can’t take much more.”

Johnny’s hand began pawing at himself unconsciously through his pants, trying to calm the storm. It feels like you are asking him a question, but his brain was so hazy he couldn’t form solid thoughts. That desperate look in your eye, the begging swimming in their depths, he could feel the breadth of your desire for the man behind you.

“Please…”

Simon turned his attention to Johnny for the first time since before he entered you and smirked. “So needy isn’t she?” he asked. “Always making me work for it. She’s almost fuckin’ there, though, but this part is just for me.”

Quickly he pulled his cock out of you amidst your whimpers at suddenly feeling empty and spun you around, picking you up so that your ass made contact with the surface of the desk where you sat. There was no need to worry, he was back in between those legs in the blink of an eye and as you wrapped your thighs around his hips, he thrust back inside that tight, sopping wet cave.

His body shuddered harshly from the feeling of your silky walls being wrapped around him again. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he grunted, his eyes meeting yours. You were a mess, a beautiful disaster, and his breath hitched as he admired your flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, swollen, cracked lips; all his doing.

Those primal instincts within his marrow took over and all he knew, all he cared about was the feeling of your walls constricting around him and how that pleasure takes all his cares away. His lips crashed upon yours furiously, completely muting your whines as his movements become more ferocious.

“You are mine,” Simon said repeatedly in hushed groans against your lips as if trying to pour the sentiment down your throat. “Mine.”

His, you thought. Only his.

Harder and harder his abdominal muscles clenched and retracted as he put everything into the force of his thrusts. Your tits bounced up and down in front of his face, jiggling with each hit as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to hang on as he rocked your body.

“Say it, I want to hear it,” he demanded suddenly; as much as he was struggling to hold it off, it wasn’t working, and he was about to come.

“I’m yours, Simon,” you mewled, your grip on his spine tightening.

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. “Again.”

You swallowed the saliva gathering in the front of your mouth to coat your parched throat. “I’m yours, Simon, only yours,” you said louder this time.

“Again.”

“Simon, this pussy is yours, only yours, forever yours. …Fuck.”

With that last syllable he was gone; his cock pulsed violently inside you, his body writhing harshly while he drained himself dry, coating your walls with his fluids as he continued to pump inside of you. There was no way he was going to give up until you had come too. A few more strong thrusts in and out with steady rhythm and that was all it took, you were crying out as well, throwing your head back as you shook with the intensity of it all. That grip on your hips turned painful as Simon dug his fingertips into your flesh to keep you both steady while you rode out your orgasms until there was nothing left to give and once he finally released you, you toppled backward onto the desk exhausted.

Pulling out of you nice and slow, everything was far to tender to move quick anymore, he gazed down at his masterpiece. Your entrance dripped droplets of his seed as it spilled out of you and something about it made him shiver with excitement. You looked absolutely divine stuffed with his cum.

As he looked back up towards your face, he was met with your sleepy, ecstasy-filled smile and his heart leapt in his chest. Goddamn, this was a fucking dream. He leaned over your exhausted body and pulled your head up, mashing his face into yours as he captured your lips and held them locked until he could feel your heartbeat slow to a more respectable rhythm.

Releasing you and resting his forehead on yours, he holstered his cock back inside his pants. “Get dressed and head back to my quarters, I’ll be there in a bit. I got something to finish up here first.”

You nodded into his head and he helped you to get up off the desk and grab your clothing, holding your tired, shaking body steady while you put everything back on. “You did so good for me, luv,” he whispered his praise before walking you to the door to unlock it and let you out, re-locking it behind you.

Johnny was already on his feet by the time Simon turned around. Crossing the room in just a few large steps, he was on him. Simon’s large hand wrapped itself around his throat as his face inched in closer in intimidating fashion.

“You ever try to touch ‘er again, anything more than just a friendly little handshake, and I will make it my mission to ruin your fuckin’ life. Understand me, Sargent?”

A nod of his head. “Yes,” Johnny said quietly as he struggled against his grip.

That wasn’t good enough. “I didn’t fuckin’ hear you,” Simon snapped.

“Yes, sir,” he said more firm this time.

“And if words get back to me that you went to Price about this, well, let’s just say that certain actions have consequences. Is that also fuckin’ clear?” Those rich chocolate eye bore down into Johnny’s soul with the seriousness of his words; this would be the one and only warning he got.

The sour look on Johnny’s face let him know he had gotten the message. “Crytsal, sir,” he confirmed.

“Good,” Simon snapped, releasing the grasp on his neck just as quickly as he had taken it.

Moving back, he straightened himself up to make sure nothing would look out of place to anyone he would pass on the way back to his room before speaking again. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Sargent. I know I will.”

And with that Johnny was left alone as Simon threw open the door and stalked back out of his office as if nothing of note had taken place here. There was no telling right then and there what would happen next, as Soap's head was still reeling, but one thing was for certain: things were about to get interesting.

Tag list: @igotmajordaddyissues , @abbiesxox

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everlastingrandom · 2 years

Text

This is sea shanty discourse all over again.

There's been some posts saying that Our Flag Means Death is antiblack for being ahistorical. But a fair amount don't sit well with me, a black person. So I'm gonna pull an ADHD and go on several tangents about it. Also, marginalized people aren't a monolith and when I see "listen to black people" from nonblack people, I get sus about who is doing the loudest talking and how, why, etc.

Also this is mostly about the show textually. Taika had a lot of creative influence on OFMD (and he directed the pilot episode) but he is not the creator of the show. David Jenkins is the main show runner, producer, and writer. That said, I'm gonna read more on both of their track records because I did see some important points that were made by others, so bear with me.

Anyway, this post will have heavy spoilers!

TL;DR Personally, I don't think this specific comedy/romance show is antiblack for choosing to not highlight the transatlantic slave trade in relation to their reimagined protagonists. However, OFMD feeds into the swashbuckler genre and I definitely think we should deconstruct that as a whole. Also I wish more people would put their righteous anger into substantially supporting Black creators.

The MEAT

OFMD doesn't shy away from depicting white people as racist: the British Navy refer to Stede's BIPOC crew members as "savages" when aboard Stede's ship. The show acknowledges the atrocities committed against the Native populations of the Caribbean and American mainlands. The tribesman who guards Stede literally says, "you [white people] keep killing us." Nor does it shy away from colonizers exoticizing people from lands that are now former victims of imperialism. Oluwande and Frenchie's scam of being an African prince relies on of the ignorance of the foppish, rich white people that they swindle.

But OFMD is not a documentary, it is a comedy/adventure show with a romantic subplot. It genre bends quite frequently, occasionally dropping the comedy to have serious moments. But the main characters are a white englishman and a white barbadian being played by a white new zealander and a maori new zealander. The conceit is that none of this is supposed to be taken seriously. No one's accent is the same. A man gets weird with some seagulls on more than one occasion. We are having fun in muppet treasure island. There are dummy mechanics in use. This is not a place of honor.

I went into watching OMFD with mental blinders fully up, because I knew pirates + caribbean = oh potential yikes. But as it progressed through S1, the fear that slavery would be depicted in an upsetting way slowly dissipated. And then it just wasn't there really. I think the choice to not explicitly depict the relationship between piracy and the transatlantic slave trade—especially in regards to Stede and Blackbeard—made sense for their tone, but ended up being an oversight in their worldbuilding. If the showrunners continue into s2, they should bring in Black/Afro-caribbean consultants to give insight on what those depictions might be, if addressed.

The swashbuckling genre is distinctive due to 1) shenanigans on a boat 2.) romance. A lot of OFMD is about the romanticization of pirate life, but it also challenges those romantic notions directly. Add two historical figures with radically opposing methods of piracy and THERE WAS ONLY ONE BOAT. That's not true, there was a max of three boats. And you end up with an untapped hotbed of creative potential. The Gentleman Pirate was a narrative figure in Stede's own lifetime and Blackbeard is a goddamn legend. There's only so much influence you can draw before people claim you're blatantly ripping something off.

Slavery is a pretty hard sell, generally. Like, commit a whole episode and tread lightly from there, hard sell. But I wouldn't be surprised if there were efforts to address it in media rez, that just didn't make it to the final cut (but this is me speculating.) TV shows are not made in vacuums, hundreds of people were involved in this production. My point is that sometimes media is not here to trick you into believing that real-life terrible people were actually good and admirable. (Sometimes it is.)

But I feel strongly that OMFD expects you to be on the side of the characters of color from the jump. Catch the implicit, "Can you believe these white people?" in the way they roll their eyes and sigh and give each other looks. The way Oluwende and Frenchie include the African servants(?) into their scheme in Ep. 5. The way the Elder pities Stede when he has a breakdown, but at the same couples Stede with every other white person who's attacked the tribe. I think OFMD seeks to depower the image we have of colonizers as inhuman forces of nature, when they were all very painfully human.

Why did fans not background check this show?

I knew the history of Stede Bonnet prior to watching OFMD, which I'm guessing was not the majority experience (?) I was interested in watching the show when I first heard about it, mainly because the costumes looked nice.

From the number of "Here's the TRUTH about Stede Bonnet" posts circulating, it's clear he's a relatively un-talked about figure. Honestly, that's fine. It happens to be that we will not learn about everything about everyone in human history. But the history of piracy + the slave trade—THAT should've been more widely known. When there's a widespread deficit in knowledge, that's a systematic issue more than an individual one.

That said, if you do not currently connect piracy with slavery, hello, here's your wake up call.

You should be able to infer that Stede, being landed gentry in Barbados, gained his wealth from slave labor. That these characters were inspired by real people who existed in and benefited from a slave labor economy. That chattel slavery ballooned during this time period. The show does not go out its way to acknowledge this. And because it didn't, where does that leave us? Filling in the gaps? Doing our own research?

(The answer is yes.)

It's Just Hamilton 2.0

I didn't make this connection like others did, and at first I was annoyed by it but now I'm kind of like. Yah.

25 year old me understands that the problems at the root of Hamilton extend deep into the entertainment industry: the way white historical figures continue to be romanticized, who we let spearhead big productions, and the histories of actual Black historical figures that were completely excluded from the narrative.

19 year old me thought, "Omg, Black people in major broadway roles! Songs that I and other Black theater kids can perform! An accessible way for me to learn more about American history!" I was in a black theatrical ensemble in college. We had that play m e m o r i z e d.

25 year old me looks at OFMD right now and thinks, "Omg, a show that shows a smart Black woman in a compelling role, a fat, Black man as a compelling love interest, and show that openly says White imperialism was fueled by greed and ignorance. Also!! Good LGBT+ rep!! HOLY SHIT!" 25 year old me also understands that we cannot scrub away the scars left by colonialism. Not even in silly Blorbo show. All media will become problematic with time, and we will never be able to get ahead of it.

But for now I would love for folks to take a step back and touch grass because fanon woobifies historical figures waaaay worse than canon does. Lin did not curse us with Miku Binder Jefferson. Y'all did that yourselves and I mine eyes will never be scrubbed of the memory. Also the lack of love towards dark skinned characters does not go unnoticed don't think I don't see y'all sleeping on spanish jackie.

If you don't want to consume OMFD, cool! Please seek out and endorse media actually helmed by Black people. If someone wants to present a counter-argument to this that isn't an angry stream of consciousness and has paragraph breaks, I will weep for joy.

#putting my hand in the proverbial piranha tank rip #ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #blackbeard #the next time i talk about being black on tunglr dot com i'm just gonna start a youtube series like a normie #antiblackness #pirate history #ofmd spoilers #antiblack #slavery #ofmd meta

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sentoooo · 2 months

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Hiii I’ve been following your writing for a little bit and first off want to say you write so well! <3

I saw your requests are open and I was wondering if you would possibly consider writing something for mk11 Kuai Liang with a masc/gn reader who hasn’t gotten top surgery?

✧ a/n: THANK YOU NONNY... of COURSE i'll do more than consider it... teehee.... needed this tho lowkey.... hgrhghrhrghhh anon you GENIUS im frothing at the mouth, actually.

🗒 cw: afab, male reader, manhandling, slight body worship, nipple play, titfucking, praise, yeah..., he whimpers too btdubs, not proofread

✎ wc: 544

MINORS DNI

ᴋᴜᴀɪ ʟɪᴀɴɢ [ᴍᴋ11] + ᴀ ꜰᴛᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [18+]

Regardless of where you are– pre-T, pre-top surgery, on T, anything– Kuai loves you for you. So, he doesn’t mind, really. That being said… he is a chest man. He’s kind of grabby in the bedroom, and when his hands wander, they often end up on your chest.

He’s oh so touchy, half of foreplay is his hands roaming your body, all sorts of praises and compliments spilling from his lips. Good god, he won’t initiate any penetration unless he’s been able to run his fingers over every single inch of skin.

He’ll pepper kisses from your neck, to your collarbone, down to your chest. Every little noise you make is worth it, as you squirm in his touch. Sometimes you feel him smile against your skin when he nears your nipple… and he pulls away, only to continue teasing you with lingering touches.

Kuai enjoys making it a game, really. See how long you can last until you’re begging for him to get to the point. But, he breaks easily. All you have to do is pout a little and ask nicely, and he won’t deny you. As much as he’d like to draw out foreplay and tease you till you can’t take it anymore, you are his ultimate weakness.

He doesn’t do all of this to highlight your insecurities. The opposite, actually. He loves you for you. And there’s nothing that will make you any less attractive to him. If it makes you uncomfortable, then he can focus on other parts of your body. He’s got a myriad of favorites (and it’s just you. You in general. You’re his favorite.)

And if you’re shy? He’s slow, he’s real slow and tender and gentle, and sooooo goddamn sweet. Every little thing he does, he’s asking for permission. Don’t you dare hit him with the ‘what if you don’t like what you see?’ line, because he loves you. He’ll shut that line down immediately, damn near lecture you on why he loves you, and he’s going to do his darndest to make sure you KNOW.

But, holy shit, if you let him titfuck you… good gods, he’s in heaven. He can barely stay quiet, moans and whimpers and all sorts of saccharine words slipping from his mouth. He’s not necessarily quiet in bed, usually he’ll groan a bit, but something about this rips his composure from him. Sometimes his eyes will roll back, or his head will… force him to look at you and he’ll cum right then and there.

Ride him. For the love of all things pure, ride him. He will lose his mind. Kuai squirms a little underneath you, always. He finds it hard to stay composed. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands– one moment they’ll be on your hips, guiding you, the next gripping the sheets, and sometimes straying up to your chest.

His eyes go from your chest, to your face, to your chest. He doesn’t know what to focus on, really. He’s mesmerized by the way you move, and sometimes he can’t help but buck his hips up into yours. He isn’t trying to be mean or unfair, he swears. He just can’t take it, how beautiful you look, your entire body… he’s almost speechless.

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ganondoodle · 4 months

Text

im pretty sure i mentioned all these things before but its too late to start drawing anything and each time i see someone talk about totk i just get sad and frustrated again

literally by FAR the biggest problem about totk is that it REFUSES to connect to botw in any way beyond reusing the same map and character models, and even taking the things botw had established and ruin them entirely

ancient hero? BAM weird sonau dog thing that remains completely unexplained and out of nowhere eight heroine myster- BAM just some guy long gone sonau peopl- BAM here they are and they have zero connection to the ones of botw mystical dragons gracing the skies with their presence- BAM probably some dude who ate a magic pebble once strange mystical nature god you could rarely encounter in one specific spot and the area was made to feel utteraly unsettling but also divine- BAM now hes everywhere and only serves you as a shorthand for man pointing at cave the strange energy all shiekah tech was powered with with certain locations being ones where alot of it was concentrated including beneath hyrule castle clearly stating that somethings up with that- welp theres evil guy donw there but he has zero connection to all that lol

the whole shiekah tech thing, i just- WHY???? LIKE THAT??? there was so much stuff in botw that seemed deliberately placed that there IS more to it and now it all vanished and nothing of that mattered??? i saw a video of someone comparing certain places directly and on some where towers literally broke away tons of debris where just like .. sanded back down like nothing ever happened???; the fuking mechanism of how the towers and shrines and the pillars around the castle worked AND WHAT THE BOTW BOSS ARENA WAS ACTUALLY FOR?? its all gone and replaced with dirt; tHE ANCIENT FUCKING FURNANCES UTTERLY GONE AND REPLACED WITH ROCKS HUH???? so nothing of all that talk about their mystery and mechanism mattered???? the luminous stoens and its connection to spirits and how concentrated spiritual energy might have been what powered the tech- like you could connect things, and they made SENSE, so much sense that that seemed like it was intentionally setting up- only for it all to be just GONE?? to literally say lol it all vanished and that we shouldnt worry about it- like what the FUCK (and it also AGAIN doesnt make sense in itself bc WE SEE GUARDIAN PARTS in the towers, and some parts of them too are made of clearly shiekah tech stuff so it cant all have vanished- all their mystery doesnt matter bc idk it just works i guess lol and its not even called shiekah tech at any point either its just there and also not lol-)

(and even the smaller things like .. where the fuck does link live if everyone treats him like a goddamn stranger in the town you had to buy a house in botw for it to not be demolished and now that house is there but its not yours and noone knows you??? sth i personalyl found strange too that dumsda, the guy you help build an entire town, taburasa, had a very specific talking quirk i loved, and its all just gone in totk too, he talks like any other person all of the sudden

also at the end of botw finally being reunited with zelda and giving you the taste of being in the game WITH her at the same time in the intro to totk- WOOP away she goes! shes your pretty prize at the end and nothing more, what a way to disrespect her and her character..)

imagine if majoras mask didnt have the opening like it has and it otherwise stayed the same and they tried to tell you that its a direct sequel happening exactly where ocarina of time happened in the same world, zelda who?? ganondorf who??? things seem weird and off? lol dont worry about that :)) that would be weird and not make any sense at all now would it??

... sorry going on another rant again, ill just never be able to accept everything from botw didnt actually matter, and despite what some people might say, its pretty hard to ignore totk bc i LOVE botw, and as much as i hate it, they are connected in canon, even if it makes no sense

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rants #i know im jsut repeating myself at this point #but some things just #i CANNOT understand why they did it like this #where the hell did kashiwa go man #i miss that funky bird #was he too much associated with botw and so it had to be done away with bc all botw things BAD??#what i would have given for seeing the titans now enshrined as temples to honor their service and their champion #to have broken shiekah shrines in the depths #old research labs with unreadable text but clear hints to how they made the guardians cores #the yiga rediscovering their lost heritage #..#i could talk about so much stuff again and again but i have done that about most thigns already #this game grinds my gears #sand in the maschine #ouch urhg ack gah

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munson-blurbs · 9 months

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Inspired by a drawing by the absurdly talented @dr-aculaaa 💚 thank you for allowing Steve’s chest hair to live rent-free in my mind.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), sub!Steve, dom!fem!Reader, pet name (“Miss”), praise & degradation, chest riding, brief handjob

WC: 909

Everyone assumes the man formerly known as King Steve is also the king in bed. And he used to be, until you came along and showed him just how fun being submissive can be.

You’re laying in his bed—king-size, of course—legs on either side of his torso. He’s had a long day at work, and you’re great at helping him relax.

“Poor thing,” you coo, leaning over and pressing soft kisses along his jawline. “Need me to take care of you?”

Strong hands grip the back of your thighs as he whimpers a barely audible, “mhm.” You’d normally make him use his words like a good boy, but you decide to cut him a little slack tonight.

“Clothes off.” Steve does as you say, wasting no time as he yanks off his jeans and boxers, cock springing free. It might be his only body part that isn’t exhausted; just the opposite, actually. A bead of pre-cum pearls at the red, angry tip, and it takes all of your willpower not to get on your knees and lick it clean straight away.

He starts to lay back down, erection in hand as he slowly bucks his hips into his fist.

“Shirt, too, Stevie,” you tut disapprovingly. “C’mon, you know how much I love that chest of yours.”

Reluctantly, Steve lets go of his achingly hard cock and lets you tug his shirt over his head. You toss it to the ground haphazardly, climbing back on top of him. Your body is a bit higher on his now, and when you lower yourself onto him, your pussy makes direct contact with his chest hair.

Steve realizes it faster than you expect him to. “You’re not—are you not wearing anything under this?” he incredulously asks, giving the fabric of your bunched up skirt a small flick. The sight of your bare sex has his eyes rolling back, a wanting groan drifting from his throat. “S’pretty,” he finally manages.

“You think I’m pretty?” Of course he does; to him, you’re the most beautiful person in the goddamn world. But you’re not really looking for an answer. No, your favorite pastime is asking him simple questions during sex and watching him struggle to respond.

Right now, for example, you’re rubbing yourself against the soft brunette tendrils between his pecs as you say, “What makes you think I’m pretty, Stevie?” Your voice drips with feigned innocence, as though you’re not using his body to get yourself off.

His fingertips squeeze the plush of your ass, firm enough to stabilize your movements without anchoring you. “Eyes,” he mumbles, cock twitching when he feels his chest hair become wet with your slick. “Y’got pretty eyes, baby. An’ your lips…”

“What about my lips?” When he fails to answer—as you knew he eventually would—you heave an impatient sigh. “If you’re not gonna tell me why I’m pretty, I’ll just have to give you a reason to be quiet.” With that, you wrap your fingers around his neck. The slight pressure has him reaching for his dick, but you use your free hand to slap him away.

“Did you ask me?” you snap, scoffing when he only shakes his head. “And now we’ve forgotten how to use any words, huh? I haven’t even touched your cock yet and you’ve already gone dumb?”

“N-No. No, I did-didn’t ask you,” Steve stammers, voice low with lust and from your grip on his throat. “‘M sorry, s-so sorry, Miss.”

And there it is. He’s slipped into subspace just from being choked and watching you ride his chest. Fucking pathetic.

You grind against him faster, reveling in the way the hair feels against your clit. “I was gonna be so nice tonight, Stevie. Was gonna suck that beautiful cock of yours. Maybe even let you eat me out while I did it. But now,” you pout, “I’m just gonna use you to cum, and if I’m in a better mood after, I might let you cum, too.”

“Yes, Miss,” he whines, saliva pooling at the left corner of his lips. “I’ll take whatever you give me. I’ll be a good boy for you now, I promise.”

You dutifully ignore him, focusing on your own needs. You lean on him a bit more, a delicious friction building between your core and the hair now matted to his chest. All he wants is to grab onto your breasts that currently hover over his face, but he knows better than to push his luck right now. Not when he’s already gotten himself into trouble.

Your non-dominant hand digs into his shoulder as you bring yourself to orgasm, your sweet release sticky on his body. Steve is shaking, trembling, and you choose to take pity on him.

“Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you now,” you grin, watching as he gasps for air, relief flowing through his veins.

He’s writhing the moment you take hold of his dick. You’ve barely touched it, but the small, staggered movements within your grasp are too much for overstimulated King Steve. Thick, hot ropes of cum shoot from his cock and trickle down your knuckles.

“Shit, y’just—too much—had to cum.” He’s babbling, not making any sense. “Couldn’t stop—”

You quiet his blathering with a kiss to his lips, hand remaining on his softening length. “Get some rest, Stevie,” you murmur, noticing his heavy-lidded eyes already beginning to flutter closed. “Maybe you can be a better boy for me in the morning.”

—

#steve stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #fanfic #stranger things fanfic

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lovefromremus · 10 months

Text

AFTG Headcanon Series [4] Kevin

part 1, part 2, part 3 part 4, part 5

Okay first of all let's start off by saying this man is so much more then vodka and goddamn exy, seriously

The fandom and the foxes never take his trauma and issues seriously and it hurts me to the core so much

A year after he told Wymack he was his father he started getting him Father's Day cards, he was extremely embarrassed at first and ran away but Wymack found him after and hugged him

Eventually sees Bee about his drinking problems, he tries very hard to work on it but it's still quite tough and he relapses several times

Trials to call Jeremy and Jean once every two weeks to check in on them, see how they're doing, he's trying to build friendships

Still gets upset on both Riko's birthday and the anniversary of his death but, again, it's another thing he's working on

Is able to set boundaries with Andrew, he doesn't trust him as much as he used to after what happened on the bus trying to figure out where Neil was but he's at peace with it, he doesn't feel bad. Andrew fucked up, he's allowed to distance himself

Finds new friends that take the same classes as him

Starts truly coming out of the shell he was forced into throughout his teenage years and is able to discover who he is as a person

Gets really close with Neil by the end of Neil's second year at Palmetto and he values Neil's opinions on everything

Doodler!!! This man will absently draw on anything without noticing including the people around him

Doesn't like hugs from just anyone but if he does trust you will hug you for hours

Is not really the type to get sick but when he does he takes absolutely no time off to feel better, he just pushes himself until he breaks and moves on

Silently judges people whenever he leaves the house

Idk why but I could see him being really really interested in marine biology

Writes a book at some point in his life - whether it's about exy or whatever he does eventually and it does really well

Can tie his shoelaces at an alarming pace because he used to being forced onto the court as soon as possible, but also because he can't wait

I'd like to say he eventually Coaches his own team, but I don't think he would, I think he would play until he couldn't no longer and opt for a quieter life (perhaps pursuing marine biology)

Misses his mom oh so very much

Hates any form of hot drink unless it's extremely black coffee or tea with ONE sugar

Is trying to get out of the funk he's in when it comes to food, he is trying to learn that not all foods are bad and will kill him just because they're not fruit or vegetables

Afraid of dying and drowning (why he works so hard on being a strong swimmer)

Can't sleep fully in the dark, he got used to it early on but after being at Palmetto and getting used to the life around him, if he ever was put in a dark room it triggers a lot of flashbacks for him

Always helps Abby with dinner when the foxes go to her house, she will never be Kayleigh but he eventually sees her as a motherly figure

Overall, I think his recovery and development as a person starts with him realising he doesn't have to box himself up anymore

Part of why he cared so much for Exy was because it was all he had

Now he has so much more

#all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #psu foxes #andreil #palmetto state university #neil josten #the foxhole court #aaron minyard #kevin day

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 7 months

Text

ofmd s2e1 rewatch where i pause to jot down my thoughts and other random shit

not quite a reaction post bc i've already watched the whole thing. not quite a liveblog bc it's one post and it's probably gonna take me a full hour to get through a 28 minute episode at the rate of pausing and typing i'll be doing

s2e1, s2e2, s2e3, s2e4, s2e5, s2e6, s2e7, s2e8

anyway, pirate time:

i love how much fun con is having choking on his own blood

dream!stede's extremely teary face right before he takes off running down the beach is doing psychic damage to me

also dream!stede's stupid ridiculous outfit with all the long ribbons and shit...

ed and stede make contact so hard shjfkhsgjkfd the loud OUGH sounds from both of them

also the return of ed's old beard! i didnt expect to see her at all this season, so that was a surprise.

"babe" "love" im tearing out my own hair

stede has yet to learn that ripping ass near your beloved can be a love language

stede is a terrible fucking roommate just deal with wee john's gas in silence like the rest of them. goddamn.

WHO HAS THE OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH TRAMP STAMP. WHO IS THAT.

i like when the background OST is familiar to me lol the little strings when stede starts his letter throwing me back to s1

olu: that–that's the swede the swede: Im the swede roach: he's single ;) me: *pissing my pants with laughter*

also the direct confirmation that the swede literally doesn't have a name. incredible

shjkfhdhfkj the crew encouraging him. stede's "it's okay" and roach "be brave" im CRYINGGGGG

stede doing customer service is something that can be so personal. "reservation?" "eat my fuckin' shit" "right! walk-ins, then" average restaurant experience

the random background guy saying "my favorite hand!" abt getting stabbed in the hand is making me giggle. i love the humor on this show

why does stede have so much shoulder movement going on when he's walking through the bar. whore behavior.

"this is for mom!" sorry but i want to know more abt whatever's going on there

also the purple mohawk. dope.

buttons is so distressed LET HIM RETURN TO THE SEA THESE CONDITIONS ARE INHUMANE

"i know the odds of you finding this are slim but so were the odds of us finding each other in the first place" IM RIPPING OFF MY OWN SKIN

also stede's lil sad hopeful smile after throwing the bottle... i care him

i love how they make this wedding fucking suck so we don't feel too bad abt the whole massacre thing. "the natural condition of humanity is base and vile. it is the obligation of people of standing, such as yourselves, to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony" if i was at a wedding and the officiant said that i'd also start killing people probably

yayy murder montage :)

FANG BREAKING THAT GUY'S SPINE OVER HIS KNEE

the whole cake scene is so fucking funny im sorry. i love u jim drawing the line at attacking a shitty wedding. i love u archie who wasn't here for the good old days so you dont really see a problem with how things are. i love u frenchie with ur box in ur brain that u never open again. i love u fang it's gonna get better i swear. i love u frenchie again bc u just took the cake right out of fang's hands while he was fucking sobbing hfjhgkjhdkjkf

I MISS IVAN JUSTICE FOR IVAN. wish they could've said he'd just fucked off somewhere instead of dying but i think that would've raised the question of why hasn't anyone else fucked off since they all seem so miserable

very relieved that stede isn't taking the racist/antisemitic caricature drawings of ed to make like a boyfriend scrapbook like some people were theorizing. would've been overkill if after episode 4 from last season stede still didn't realize that ed hated these sorts of depictions of him.

INTERESTING DETAIL THO the background music in this scene is "a pirate's life" aka the song frenchie sang in the pilot. it's an instrumental version obviously but yeah i recognize that tune

also more cool background ppl with dyed hair man i love this show

zheng yi sao flirting with olu is so good. he deserves it.

how nice of ed to offer his drugs to the crew. sharing is caring.

also it's so funny to me that the thing izzy is tormented by is ed saying "you can't do the job, someone else will" the toe thing's happened three times and apparently that was fine but the thing the show edits together right before izzy breaks down into the most pathetic aheemheem whimpers isn't any of that it's ed threatening to fire him

also they cut ed throwing knives at izzy!! what the hell.

releasing the clip of izzy crying kinda ruined it for me when it came time to watch it in the show bc i watched it several times since it dropped and now seeing it in context i was like "ok i've seen this already fast forward." i mean i didnt fast forward through it but i did kinda zone out bc i've seen this bit already. this post kinda sums up my thoughts on it

"trifling ingrate plan" dshkjfshgdskhfjkhgkjh

"SEMI-CLEAN WATER"

JACKIE CALLING THE SWEDE "BOO CAKES"

"i know that guy we had breakfast together!" "you'll be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh, okay" i fucking love this whole dynamic like i can tell they're writing the swede out of most of the episodes for budget reasons (sorry nat faxon) but by god do they give him such an excellent fucking send-off. can't wait to see him again when he's in his trophy husband number 20 era

roach is upset abt not being able to cook, buttons is tied up so he doesn't go running back to the sea (i assume). stede you are not giving your crew the environment they need to thrive.

olu being an optimist :)

buttons opens his mouth to drink the rain and in the background u can see roach yanking the rope around buttons back fhdjskgfjhgkjfh STEDE YOUR SEA WITCH CANNOT THRIVE IN THESE CONDITIONS

stede tries to make things sound good in his bottle letters to ed but out loud he says his actual insecurities... it's so fucking tasty tho that he thinks ed could be doing better without him and THAT'S why he's been stalling so much. not afraid for his life even a little bit he just assumes he's not wanted. brb i have to cry now

"im sorry if that's a little bit creepy" "you are creepy" in this scene where they're soaked from the rain. ofmd said this prince ricky guys is creepy and wet.

stede's fucking FACE when prince ricky says "you're my hero" his fucking "clearly you dont own an air fryer" face I CANT STAND HIMMMMMM (affectionate)

prince ricky "these rubes" "men of our standing" yeah i cant fucking stand this guy (derogatory) i love how he's barely even in this episode

stede's face when the swede is talking abt how happy he is with jackie... my man believes in love so much im gonna cry

also in what fucking way does the swede owe them a life debt. roach and buttons literally tried to eat him

izzy's "you know me better than anyone knows me and i daresay the same about you" this is literally so false i dont even know where to begin. izzy in e6 being like "if i didnt know any better i'd think maybe ed might possibly maybe be actually enjoying bonnet's company" while ed and stede are giggling and making each other friendship bracelets. this guy doesn't know ed at all.

also i cant get over how izzy wont make eye contact he's like staring blankly into the middle distance delivering these lines so flatly until he goes to say "i have... love for you" and in that moment he looks like he'd rather ed were feeding him more toes.

"im worried about you, we all are" not gonna lie my dude you've had a weird way of showing it thus far. where was all that worry when you told him he was better off dead than wearing a robe and singing songs?? where was that fucking love then?

and NOW izzy wants to talk it through. izzy literally voted to make blackbeard great again and now he wants to give open communication a chance???

lmao there's a limit to how many characters can be in a bulleted list so here's fucking. part two. on the same post:

ed asking everyone if the vibe is poisonous and fang cant stop crying and ed's face is just like "eh good enough" im fdhksgfkjtdkh

anyway ed with a loaded gun under his chin talking to himself is hurting me so fucking much actually. ed my beloved babygirl for whom i would die. this poor traumatized man. yes he is making this workplace toxic as hell but god. GOD. im gonna throw up.

the way ed is so fucking casual about shooting izzy in the leg. just calm and jovial as he promotes frenchie to first mate. stepping over izzy all crumpled on the floor. everything about this is so fucking good. i mean it's horrible for ed and everyone around him but for me watching the show this shit is DELICIOUS. i love when the pirates get violent and unhinged i love when this shit gets fucked up. ed's mental state is so bad right now and it is causing me severe anguish but also it is so tasty. fuck.

anyway frenchie trying to turn down the promotion fhjkghdfjkhf

the cut to the swede performing the husbandly duties is INSANE. COMPLETE TONAL WHIPLASH. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

"fuck those hammies up!" spanish jackie i love you

black pete why are you so fucking loud AND WHY WOULD YOU JIX IT LIKE THAT???

why is prince ricky so small. he's like a full head shorter than stede. also this guy is insufferable i love how stede just fucking abandons him fhjkgdhkdfghkj

"the calf muscle is the most mysterious of alllll the muscles" what the FUCK does that even mean. oh swede i will miss you

NOSE REMOVAL FUCK YES. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

obsessed with the swede playing dumb. the dramatic gasp. "wow, so bad!" fhjsghdkjf

"aint you that soup bitch?" "im the money bitch" i love women.

sfdsjkh spanish jackie being into double-crossing. and slapping the swede's ass on the way out. i love this show

i love how zheng says "this much indigo is worth three times what i paid" while spanish jackie and the husbands are still like, right there. and they just don't hear that bit. incredible.

OUGH the back of jim's weird rope armor looks like a ribcage that's so cool

i love how jim is so fucking bad at telling this story. i love how the monkey's paw comes into it. i love fang asking them to do the voice. i love archie trying to hold back her laughter i love jim and fang giggling together I LOVE THIS SHOW

ed's fucking voice breaking through his whole convo with frenchie. im tearing out my own teeth

HEY DID YOU GUYS KNOW THEY HAVE POST-CREDITS SCENES IN THIS SEASON?????????? WHAT THE HELL

i take back what i said about jim being bad at telling this story their version is so much fucking better. squeaky voice "I pray to you, Dark Lord, to make me real flesh! I want to be real flesh!" IM FUCKING OBSESSED. JIM I WOULD DIE FOR YOU

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petricorah · 10 months

Text

“we can’t leave him here” “sure we can” is so goddamn funny when you know they’re divorced (via @haroldtea)

so which one is it? who says it?

Does Sokka say it? And it hurts Zuko more this time. He was barely conscious before, just making out the voice of the Avatar's non-bending friend say they should leave him to die. And part of him wishes they would. He'd failed.

And here he was, failing again, but now he was losing the man he loved.

"You can't leave me here," Zuko said, his voice a frail whisper. He knows it's selfish. He knows Sokka belongs with his people, that half his heart is with them, that he could do far more good there, where he belongs, but he can't leave him there.

"I have to," Sokka says.

And he does.

Or is it Zuko? Do you think he sees Sokka grapple with his decision, not knowing if his heart lies with his people or Zuko, and Zuko is angry, even though he knows he shouldn't be, that he doesn't have the right. Do you think he leaves him first, before Sokka's even decided (before Sokka works up the courage to tell him he'd chosen Zuko.) Do you think he burns him before Sokka has the chance to do it?

"Y-you can't leave me here," Sokka said. His voice is wrecked, ruined. He's pleading with him.

"Sure I can," Zuko said, and he brushes past him, unable to bear the look on Sokka's face.

Do you think Zuko feels some satisfaction that things have come full circle? Do you think that gives him enough power for him to survive the first few weeks being apart from Sokka? Do you think he leans into his anger so he doesn't have to dwell on his own pain and regret?

But then again, there's only one real answer, right? They get back together, they don't--the end was bound to happen. It was unavoidable.

"I can't leave you here," Zuko said.

He held Sokka in his arms. His hand was over the wound on his stomach, pressing as hard as he could with heat from his palms. But pressure, cauterization, none of it was going to work, and they both knew it.

The dust of battle was distant from his mind, and the only thing he could focus on was feeling the pale pulsing of Sokka's heart from the wound just under his ribs. With every second, it was getting fainter. His life, slipping from under his fingertips.

"Zuko..." Sokka said, mouth parted as he looked up at him, trying to hold himself up somehow.

Zuko knew that tone of voice. He knew what was coming next. He refused to let it happen.

His fingers curling into Sokka's blood-soaked shirt. "I-I can't do this without you. I don't want to do this without you." Sparks flashed from his palm, singing Sokka's shirt. "I love you. I never stopped loving you."

Sokka smiled, but his eyes were sad. It was...a little too late for that confession. He tried to sit up slightly, but his elbow gave out, and Zuko readjusted, still trying to put pressure on his wound.

"Don't try to move," Zuko said tersely. "I-I need to think. We're barricaded in, but I-I'll find a way to carry you out--"

Sokka winced, placing his hand over Zuko's on his torso. "You're gonna make my sacrifice meaningless?" he said with a huffed laugh that cut off in a pained gasp, eyebrows drawing together. "That's a dick move, Hot Stuff."

Zuko bit back the bile in his throat. His eyes flicked back and forth, looking at Sokka's ashen face. He could feel him getting weaker, see it in his face, the focus waning in Sokka's glassy eyes.

Sokka had pushed him aside, taking his place. That hit wasn't meant for him. He wasn't even supposed to be here, and now...

"You shouldn't have done that. W-why did you do that? Why? You're so--"

Stupid. Reckless. Foolish. But he couldn't say that. He couldn't say any of that, because there was a good chance it was going to be the last thing Sokka heard him say.

"So are you," Sokka retorted weakly.

Reading his mind. Even now.

Sokka was serious now. The softness was gone from his infliction, replaced with the severe decisiveness of a leader and ambassador. "You have to go before they come back."

"I can't leave you!" Zuko snarled, his hair falling into his face, as every inch of his body felt like it was breaking, crumbling to pieces, his voice splintering in his throat. "You can't leave me."

Sokka's ice melted, and he spoke in a low voice, a whisper between them, in that tone that he used to say he loved him. "Sure I can," Sokka said. He reached up, knuckles gently moving back his long black hair, thumb grazing across his scarred cheek.

Zuko leaned into his touch, eyes screwing shut. He was trying to chart it to memory, the feeling of Sokka's fingertips, him, everything, because he couldn't do this. They should have had more time. He'd wasted it.

"You can't leave me," he repeated desperately, voice barely registering above the sound of his own anguish.

"It's okay, Zuko. Let me go."

And then his hand dropped, and coldness where his touch had been rushed in.

///

Sokka slowly opened his eyes. He was looking at something white.

He squinted.

White and cracked.

Did the spirit world have peeling ceilings?

He tried to sit up, and immediately collapsed. Pain unlike anything he'd experienced flashed through him. Well, flashed would presume that it left quickly. This was wave after wave of agony, stretching through every part of him. He let out a stifled gasp, but managed to prop himself up with a locked out elbow, only to feel a warm hand on his shoulder. It gave a slight nudge, but that was enough to send Sokka falling back into the sheets.

"If you try to get up again, I'll kill you."

He stilled. That voice, soothing and sharp, unmistakeable.

He was almost afraid to look, because it couldn't be real.

It was Zuko. Alive. Well, with a few more burns and scratches, but alive. Alive.

"You're alive," he breathed out. Then his heart pounded in his chest. "Unless we're both dead, and the spirit world makes you heal from the injuries that killed you before you get to be a spirit ghost or--"

"No," Zuko said. He bent down and helped Sokka sit up, propping the pillows behind him so he could rest properly, then he sat back down in the chair next to Sokka's bed. "We're alive."

Sokka's heart pounded against his ribcage, and he relaxed slightly in relief.

"The assassins?"

"Taken care of," Zuko said. "Thanks to the research you put together, we were able to find the ambassador who betrayed me. Thank you," he said. "And thank you for...risking your life for me. Again."

Sokka shrugged, ignoring the pain that stabbed through him with the action. "You've done it for me before."

Zuko's yellow eyes darkened, and Sokka faltered. This had been different. Even as he'd shoved Zuko aside, he didn't think he'd get to...see him again, much less...

"I mean, I wasn't that close to dying. I just had to be dramatic." The lie came quickly with a nonchalant wave of his hand, but that, too, sent pain through his joints. He pressed on. "I mean, some of that stuff you said." His trademark smirk played across his lips. "That you still loved me? How many years has it been?" He shook his head with a click of his tongue. "That's embarrassing for you, Fire Lord."

Zuko chuckled, a low, good sound. "Is it?"

Sokka nodded, closing his eyes for emphasis. "And you're probably thinking about how you regret it, now that I didn't actually die. But you can't take it back. And you're probably thinking, 'oh, he got hurt because of me, I can't be with him now, blah, blah, blah.'" He opened one eye up, and saw tension in Zuko's shoulders. Of course he was right. "But..." he leaned forward slightly, ignoring the pain, because it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except.

"I'm telling you, you can't get rid of me. You're stuck with me forever. No matter what you say or do, friends or more, I'm here. I'm going to be by your side. And I'm not going anywhere."

Zuko was quiet for a moment, and Sokka hesitated. Zuko's face was unreadable, and Sokka could feel his heart in his damn ears--

But Zuko closed the gap between them, and kissed him.

It was soft, gentle, like he was afraid he'd hurt him, but Sokka melted into it all the same, his hand fitting in his spot on Zuko's cheek, Zuko's warm palm a grounding presence against his neck.

Zuko pulled back, swallowing, his hair slightly out of place. Sokka resisted a smile. That was always his favorite part--seeing Zuko's stoic facade break in a mess of blushing and mussed hair. Seeing him lose control, to just let go when he was with Sokka. Even now, through everything they'd been through and everything that had changed between them, he still...

"I love you too," he said. "In case you didn't know."

Zuko smiled, and reached forward to take his hand. "Good. Because I'm not leaving, either."

#zukka #this was just gonna be a joke in the tags then i lost my shit apparently. im sorry #divorced zukka #death tw #blood tw #myfic #zukka fic

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bulkyphrase · 11 months

Text

Sineala Stony Podfic List

One of my minor beefs with AO3 is that’s there’s no good way to search for works inspired by a specific author. So if, for instance, you want to find all the podfic readings of fics written by a favorite author (@sineala) for a favorite ship (stevetony) you’ve got to do some digging.

Or rather, I had to do some digging and now you can sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labor. There’s 33 podfics on this list, so plenty to choose from!

All-Time Low read by AudioSilks (@whenas-in-silks) (Length: 1.5-2 Hours, Explicit)

Summary: Tony's lost his company to Obadiah Stane. He's lost it all: his money, his friends, his Avengers team... and his sobriety. Drunk, homeless, Tony is living on the streets, and when he runs out of liquor money, he sells the only thing he has left: his body. And one day, he has the exact wrong customer.

Backhand read by Cathalinareads (@cathalinaheart) (Length: 10-20 Minutes, Explicit)

Summary: Tony always knows what Steve needs, even before Steve does. But just because Steve needs something doesn't mean he likes needing it -- especially when what he needs is to hit Tony.

All the rest are below the cut!

Breaking Point (The Abort, Retry, Fail Remix) read by watery_weasel (Length: 20-30 Minutes, Mature)

Summary: Here's a fact about Captain America that the entire world knows now: the last thing he did was commit murder.

Convention Exclusive read by cookiemom6067 (@cookiemom6067) (Length: 10-20 Minutes, General Audiences)

Summary: "I'm interested in commissioning a sketch," Iron Man said. He leaned forward, edging into Steve's personal space, splaying his gauntleted hands on the table. "I'd like you to draw me wearing only a tiny thong, with Captain America staring at my nearly-naked body in horror." (Or: Steve Rogers, former artist for the Captain America comics, is signing autographs at a comics convention when he meets his biggest fan. Not an AU.)

Do It Over read by miss_marina95 (@missmarina95) (Length: 20-30 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: The last words your soulmate says to you are written on your skin, and you won't know who they are until they die. The thing is, Steve and Tony die a lot.

Follow in Your Footsteps read by paraka (@paraka) (Length: 45-60 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: When Tony is twelve, his soulmate's name appears on his wrist. Unfortunately, it's hard to find out anything at all about Steve Rogers. It turns out there's a reason for that.

Get Some Now read by where_thewind_blows (@flowersthroughthecracks) (Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: Avengers Mansion has a mysterious feline infestation. Meanwhile, Steve just can't figure out how to ask Tony out on a date. And the thirteen teleporting cats sure aren't helping matters any.

Heart Covered in Smoke read by GoLBPodfics (@godoflaundrybaskets) (Length: 10-20 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: And now Tony's standing here, at the end of the world, and Steve's coming to kill him. Honestly, he can't think of a better way to go.

Hidden Facets read by cookiemom6067 (@cookiemom6067) (Length: 20-30 Minutes, Mature)

Summary: The weirdest consequence of Tony's unexpected telepathy is not the fact that he now knows Steve has secret gay fantasies. It's not even the fact that Tony has a starring role in them. That's absolutely fine. Better than fine, even. But what Tony can't figure out is why all of Steve's secret gay fantasies about him are so goddamn sad.

How to Date a Robot read by crawfishing (Length: 5-6 Hours, Mature)

Summary: How do you date a robot? Even the twenty-first century doesn't have the answers to every question. Steve will have to figure this one out for himself -- after he politely rebuffs Mr. Stark's interest, of course. Sure, Mr. Stark is handsome, but Steve would rather be with his bodyguard. So when Iron Man agrees to go on a date with Steve, Steve couldn't be happier. He loves Iron Man with all of his heart, and their relationship rapidly grows serious. But why does Mr. Stark hate Iron Man so much? And why in the world is Mr. Stark trying to tear Steve and Iron Man apart?

Job Satisfaction read by The_Casual_Sounds (@the-casual-cheesecake) (Length: 20-30 Minutes, Explicit)

Summary: When Steve can't handle his work with the Secret Avengers, he has a rather unconventional arrangement with Tony to help relieve his stress. It almost works.

The Law Runneth Forward and Back read by RsCreighton (@rosecreighton) (Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: It's been three weeks since Tony saved Steve's life at Mount Rushmore, and they're not talking about it. It's going to drive Tony insane. But they've got bigger problems, because Nightshade has turned Steve into a werewolf. Again. And all Steve seems to want is to be near Tony.

Like a Comet Streaming On read by RsCreighton (@rosecreighton) (Length: 3.5-4 Hours, Explicit)

Summary: Tony escapes Afghanistan with a functioning Iron Man suit and a perfectly normal heart. He even manages to bring Ho Yinsen home safely at his side. But he may as well have lost everything... because his wolfbrother is dead. Six months later, the Avengers find Captain America, frozen in ice, miraculously alive. Everything and everyone Steve has ever known is gone -- except his wolfsister, the recipient of the lupine version of the super-soldier serum, who was frozen in his arms. Tony has everything but his wolf. Steve has only his wolf. This is how their lives fit together.

Love Across the Multiverse read by Cathalinareads (@cathalinaheart) (Length: 1.5-2 Hours, Explicit)

Summary: Mojo presents: Love Across the Multiverse! In tonight's episode, a battle-hardened supersoldier finds himself drawn to his handsome, genius teammate! It's an agonizing duel between his long-held beliefs and the secret passions of his heart! Will true love conquer all? There's only one way to find out! Don't miss the highlight of the season! (Viewer discretion is advised. Mojoworld residents who do not vote for their favorite participants of the season will be summarily sent to the arena. All hail Mojo.)

Mercy in You read by Pywren (@phyrrhicvictory) (Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Mature)

Summary: When Tony comes back from a very bad D/s date, in pain and abandoned by his dom, Steve offers to help Tony out and give him all the aftercare he so desperately needs.

More Than Skin Deep read by AudioSilks (@whenas-in-silks) (Length: 20-30 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: Tony can just about accept the fact that he and Steve were kidnapped and replaced by Skrulls for three months. But what he can't figure out is why none of the Avengers noticed. And what he really can't figure out is why none of their teammates will tell them what the Skrulls did while they were gone.

Never Too Late For Love read by Cathalinareads (@cathalinaheart) (Length: 10-15 Hours, Explicit)

Summary: Steve has always believed that a soulbond is a blessing -- a rare and beautiful miracle, joining the thoughts and feelings of two people forever, from the first time they touch. Steve knows he's not going to be one of the lucky ones. He knows Gail isn't his soulmate. But he loves her, even if they're not soulmates, and he's going to do right by her. After the war's over, he's going to marry her, and they're going to settle down. They'll buy a house. They'll have children. He'll see his family again. Maybe Bucky will live next door. It's going to be a good life. He doesn't need a soulbond. He'll be fine without one. Then Steve wakes up sixty years in the future to find that his wonderful life has moved on without him. His family is long dead. His fiancée married his best friend. And the only purpose he has left is leading the Ultimates, a misbegotten team of superheroes with flaws too numerous to count. Steve hates everything about the future -- but most of all he detests Tony, flashy and flirtatious, who embodies everything Steve hates about a world he never wanted to live in. And, oh, yeah, Steve has a soulmate after all: Tony fucking Stark.

The Ninth Step read by cookiemom6067 (@cookiemom6067) (Length: 20-30 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: Steve hasn't seen Tony since he was rescuing him, drunk, from a burning building. But Tony's sober now, he's at Steve's door, and he wants to make amends. Though maybe "want" isn't exactly the right word for it.

Nothing Pure Enough read by grrreed_pods (Length: 10-20 Minutes, Mature)

Summary: You shouldn't be able to develop a Hanahaki fixation on someone you've never met who's been dead for decades. But Tony has always been special.

The Opposite of a Problem read by exmanhater (Length: 10-20 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: "I promise to love, honor, and probably not obey you, and, uh, take you as my totally-unlawfully-wedded husband, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do us part, or for at least the next seventy-two hours." (Or: Tony and Steve get fake-married for the sake of the mission.)

Plus One read by stuckwithyou (Length: 10-20 Minutes, General Audiences)

Summary: Tony wants Steve to accompany him to a gala. They're not together. Tony doesn't seem to think this is a problem, but he doesn't know about Steve's feelings for him. And Steve's certainly not going to tell him.

A Real Boy read by M_Samro (@msamro) (Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Explicit)

Summary: When Steve shows up for the Avengers' team meeting, he quickly discovers that the version of Tony in attendance this week is the artificial intelligence. But Tony is still Tony, the man Steve has loved for years, and him being a hologram doesn't stop the two of them from falling for each other. They just have a few kinks to work out.

Right All My Wrongs read by Amanita_Fierce (@amanita-fierce) (Length: 0-10 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: Tony needs to clean up his act. Fury has a suggestion. Steve has a proposal.

Scars and Stitches read by Cathalinareads (@cathalinaheart) (Length: 10-20 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: When Tony shows up to SHIELD to be fitted with the Iron Man armor, Steve, the original Iron Man, is there to help him out.

Slipping off the Page into your Hands read by RsCreighton (@rosecreighton) (Length: 7-10 Hours, Explicit)

Summary: Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve's problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony's problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth.

So Far Away From Me read by cookiemom6067 (@cookiemom6067) (Length: 20-30 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: Captain America has a new hotline, and Tony is a frequent caller -- but for a very unusual reason.

Straight on till Morning read by M_Samro (@msamro) (Length: 10-15 Hours, Explicit)

Summary: Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive. But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything.

Sucker Punch read by IronAudio (@ironlawyer) (Length: 2-2.5 Hours, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: Steve never quite warms to Tony Stark, Avengers benefactor. The Molecule Man never strips Iron Man out of his armor. Life goes on for the Avengers, but as disagreements split the team -- and Shellhead and Winghead -- again and again, Steve wonders why Iron Man always picks Tony over him. And when Steve finds out, it happens in the worst way possible.

To Make Much of Time read by paraka (@paraka) (Length: 2-2.5 Hours, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: When Iron Man rejects Steve's romantic advances, Steve is disappointed, but of course he understands -- Iron Man's secret identity is important. But when a portal opens and Tony Stark crashes into their midst from twelve years in the future, Steve starts to suspect that there are more secrets here than he can even begin to comprehend, and neither Iron Man nor Tony are providing any answers.

Veridicality read by hopelesse (Length: 10-20 Minutes, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: When Steve is accidentally exposed to a truth serum, Tony learns that Steve has been keeping a lot of feelings hidden.

Wish Fulfillment read by hopelesse (Length: 10-20 Minutes, Mature)

Summary: When Steve hears that Tony is alive again, he does what any Supreme Hydra would do: he captures Tony. Unfortunately for him, it's not the right Tony.

Wonders of the World (The Keep Me Safe from Harm Remix) read by Pywren (@phyrrhicvictory) (Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Explicit)

Summary: Steve, America's top cop, meets Tony, in the middle of launching Resilient, in a hotel room in Seattle. There, Steve finds unexpected comfort in Tony's presence. It wasn't supposed to be an assignation. But then, a snowstorm wasn't supposed to strand them together, either.

Your Name on Every Wall read by The_Casual_Sounds (@the-casual-cheesecake) (Length: 2-2.5 Hours, Teen And Up Audiences)

Summary: The Time Gem throws Steve into the past rather than the future, and in doing so, it gives him the opportunity to undo his past mistakes. But when it turns out that all of his mistakes involve Tony Stark, Steve begins to wonder if he's ever going to be able to mend things between them.

#steve rogers #tony stark #stony #podfic #marvel fic rec

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ashintheairlikesnow · 8 months

Text

Everything Good

CW: Self-hatred, victim-blaming, referenced past noncon, Kauri does so love to get drunk when he’s sad doesn’t he, some big old angst

Follows directly after Antoni and Kauri’s fight here, happens before/concurrently with Who You Are Looking For

“I told Jameson in confidence,” Antoni is saying, the words finding their way through the white noise slowly overtaking Kauri’s mind. His hard jaw and hard eyes and hard voice all combine to give away what he’s really saying, underneath the words. I didn’t trust you enough to tell you. Kauri opens his mouth with some retort but it falls apart, nothing comes out but air. Antoni speaks over the silence. “I did not tell you, or Jasha, and that was my choice not to tell.” Antoni’s voice is hard as granite, and Kauri can’t breathe as he feels the inhuman stone shove itself down his throat. Unfeeling. Uncaring. “I am sorry it hurt you that you did not know.”

No, you’re not.

Everyone says they’re sorry, no one ever means it.

It always happens again-

“Do not ask me again.”

Kauri isn’t sure if he even remembers how to blink. His heart pounds in his chest, so loud that it beats inside his ears, and he can’t say anything. He realizes with start that he is terrified of Antoni’s anger, that he understands that Antoni is the most dangerous person living in this house and Kauri has said and done all the wrong things for the last time. He manages a thin, stammered, “Ant-”

“I am ashamed of what was done to me,” Antoni snaps, a look on his face like a sneer. Loathing. Kauri is shit on his shoe, needing scraped off or dissolved with bleach. They’re supposed to be partners, but then again, when has Kauri been loved without pain?

Jake loves you.

The thought doesn’t land. None of them do, not with that look on Antoni’s face.

Antoni turns away from him, and it’s like slamming a door in his face. Like when Derrick would grab him by the arm and shake him for being so fucking stupid, why the fuck did you do that and Kauri never had a good reason. He doesn’t have a good reason now.

Antoni could hurt him for this. Antoni and Jake and Chris are never, ever supposed to hurt him. They’re the ones he can trust not to.

Antoni, a man carved of marble and painted in shades of furious anger, has a stare that burns holes through Kauri’s thin armor. “Is that not enough? Must you make it worse?”

Kauri swallows the rocks in his throat and lets them come to rest somewhere in his chest, behind his heart, a weight of guilt he can’t carry alone, but alone is what he is right now. Antoni looks at him like he’s been wounded by Kauri knowing this, when Kauri should be the first person people know will understand. Of course he understands. It’s the one thing he’s a goddamn expert in.

“... I-... I didn’t mean-” His voice catches in his throat, thin and reedy, and Kauri winces and tries again. He takes a step back. Antoni doesn’t notice him putting space between them. Even Kauri is barely aware of it, the instinctive self-protection. Please don’t hurt me for making you angry. “You don’t have to be ashamed of-”

“Yes, I do!” Antoni smacks his hand down on the countertop and Kauri flinches, but Antoni wasn’t looking at him. He doesn’t see it. Kauri takes another step back. “It was shameful!”

Blood rushes to Kauri’s face, a sudden burst of heat. His fingers, though, are freezing. His lungs feel cold. Granite has become a glacier, a weight of ice he can’t possibly resist or dig his way out of. His mind scrapes against ice walls as thick as canyons are deep. “Don’t say that.”

His voice is a whisper.

Antoni turns to look at him and it’s an expression Owen has shown him so many times Kauri could draw it with his eyes closed even now. A look that Kauri can hear, the words spit at him with Owen’s righteous anger, his judgement, the way he could hate Kauri and love him all at once. You stupid slut.

If Antoni hates him for it, too, then what was the point of ever leaving?

“... I, I don’t have to be ashamed-” His voice is a thin whimper, and Antoni smacks the countertop again. This time Kauri stumbles back against the wall, his eyes locked on Antoni’s hand where it lays, fingers splayed, on the laminate made to look like stone. Just a thin layer of imaginary strength over wood so easily broken.

“Stop it!” Antoni stops. Takes in a breath. “Stop. This is not about you. Not everything on earth is about you. This conversation ends now.”

Kauri has never, ever dreamed that Antoni could look at him like this. Disgusted with him. Loathing him. God, he must hate Kauri for what he’s done, for what he is, if he can hate himself for having to live with it. Hating himself because he ever, for even a second, had to have the same life Kauri did. He swallows, thinking he can apologize, he can be good, he can talk his way out of this. If he can just be sorry enough, they can make this go away, like it never happened. “Antoni-”

“I said it ends.”

Antoni walks away.

Kauri’s mouth is still open, but all he sees is Antoni’s back as he disappears down the hall. The room isn’t empty, though. It’s full of the weight of Kauri standing, once again, alone. This time he isn’t fleeing Owen’s rage and the hands around his neck, the realization that he can’t survive it if it keeps getting worse.

Instead, he’s standing here alone because Antoni doesn’t want him.

“Makes sense,” He whispers to himself. Guilt rages, tears him apart from the inside. He’s just skin stretched over self-loathing. Kauri takes a deep breath, steadying himself, closing his eyes. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and dials a number he meant to block a long time ago, but never could quite bring himself to. Just in case.

He’s honestly surprised when Westin answers. “Kauri! Long time no fuck around! How are you?”

“Shit. It’s all shit.” Kauri’s voice still won’t rise above a hoarse whisper.

“Oh, damn. What’s wrong? I thought you were all married and settled and shit now.”

“I-... I am-” I think I am, he says, but then tries to shove that thought away. Even if Antoni doesn’t want him, even if he’s ruined everything by not knowing how or when to shut his fucking mouth, Jake will still love him.

Won’t he?

God. He can’t make Jake choose between them. Antoni’s objectively the better choice, anyway. He’s better with the rescues, he’s a good cook, he never makes demands on anyone for anything at all. There’s no choice to be made, Antoni is always going to be the one who wins out. If Kauri gets picked it’d be out of pity.

Wouldn’t it?

“Then what’s up?”

“Uh, my. My, um-... Look, tonight sucks. You got anything?”

“Kauri. Gorgeous. Light of my… fucked-up early twenties. I always have something. You want to come over?”

Westin’s nice. He has an apartment he pays for in cash because you don’t pay taxes on the kind of money he makes, the way he makes it. Kauri hesitates, because he shouldn’t. He hasn’t, not in years. He had thought he’d grown out of running for something to wipe out his mind when it’s overwhelmed by fear.

But he’s never been afraid like this.

“... Uh-”

Chris peeks into the kitchen. His wide green eyes meet Kauri’s, below the shock of lavender hair with copper roots starting to show. He’s wearing a gray hoodie that drowns him and black pants with holes at the knees that Kauri honestly can’t tell if they’re jeans or leggings. Or both. He realizes Chris has shoes on. “Kauri? Is, is, is everything-”

Kauri grabs his arm, not so much thinking as just acting on impulse, the way he always does. “Come on. We’re going out.”

“Wh-what? We are?”

“Yeah.” Kauri puts the phone back to his ear. “Westin? You still there?”

“Yeah, eavesdropping shamelessly. You coming over?”

“Nah. Can I meet you outside of the Dolph? You know the place?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. I love that place. You slept with the bartender, didn’t you?”

“That was like a decade ago, Wes. He’s probably not the bartender anymore.” Kauri heads down the steps, Chris’s arm still in his hand, the younger man stumbling after him confused and uncertain, but willing to go wherever Kauri takes him. Chris, at least, won’t ever look at him the way Antoni did. He isn’t fucking physically capable of it. No matter what Kauri says, or does, or thinks, or feels.

“I mean, I know, but just-”

“I did. I think his name was Jerome. Or Jared?”

“Jerome. Definitely Jerome. Jesus, that guy was stacked like a fucking…” Westin trails off, lost in thoughts. Or memories. “I don’t know. He definitely didn’t wear the right size t-shirt though.”

“You get bigger tips that way.”

Kauri half-shoves Chris into the car and gets himself into the driver’s seat. Jake’s metal music blares at first, but Kauri smacks at the volume button until the sound is silenced. “We’ll be there in half an hour. Can you bring me something chill?”

“Some, something chill?” Chris’s eyes widen, then he looks… unaccountably sad. “Kauri-”

“It’s fine,” Kauri says, waving a hand in Chris’s face without looking at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Westin’s voice goes soft. “You going to be up for some real fun tonight?”

“God, no.” Kauri still loves the way the word ‘no’ sounds in his own voice. He went so long without remembering how to say it and not fall apart. “Had a shit night. Just… half an hour, the Dolph, something good.”

“Got it. Hey, I always wondered… is the Dolph named about dolphins, or Dolph Lundgren?”

“... yes.” Kauri hangs up before Westin can say anything else, hitting the gas hard enough that the car jerks forwards and Chris grabs, a little panicked, at his seatbelt. “Whoops, sorry. Haven’t driven in a while.”

“It’s, um. It’s fine.” Chris’s phone vibrates and he checks it, wincing as if what he sees hurts him. “Uh, Jake, um, Jake wants to, to to to know, um, what, what happened, uh-”

“Tell him we’re going out.” Kauri takes a left turn too sharply, throwing Chris against the door. It occurs to him he probably shouldn’t drive when he feels like this, but fuck it, he doesn’t care anymore. Why not? He can drive the way he feels, and maybe it’ll help unstick the ice in his chest. “To dinner. To talk.”

Chris swallows. “... are, are we going out to, to, to dinner?”

“Well, the Dolph is kind of a dive-y bar and serves some pretty fucking awesome fried food, plus a real shitty take on a garden salad, so… sure. I’m buying.”

“And… and, and and and, we, um, will we… talk? About-... about what, what happened-”

“Once I am high off my ass and don’t care anymore,” Kauri says, taking another turn. He can see the blue sign marking that the interstate is coming up, now. Merge there, drive a few miles, get right back off. Head into an unassuming up-and-coming neighborhood where cute little boutiques vie with murals spray-painted on walls twenty years ago and left to fade with time and weather. Find the bright blue door with a light over the top. Go inside. Order drinks, swallow pills, and breathe.

He’s done it a thousand times before.

He can do it again.

It always helps. Or at least, it always holds off the pain long enough for Kauri to find a way to run from it.

“Kauri, please, how, how, how how how can I get home, if, um, if you get… high, again, you, you you you haven’t done that in a while, are-... can, can we talk before, um-”

Kauri glances sideways, and feels a brand new wash of self-loathing when he sees that Chris looks worried, even a little scared. Of him.

He merges too hard and nearly sideswipes a semi. The guy blares his horn and Kauri flips him off and speeds past, changing lanes. It’s begging for something to go horribly wrong, flirting with an accident or injury or death. But fuck it, what does it matter?

“I think Antoni stopped loving me tonight,” Kauri says, voice flat. He’s proud of the way it doesn’t shake. “I think I deserve to get high again tonight. You get me home safe. Everyone goddamn wins, right?”

Chris clutches his phone like it could save his life. “Antoni could-... could never st, stop-”

“Yeah, maybe not with other people. But I have that very special talent, Chris, I can make anybody fall out of love with me just by being myself. Just by being who I am. Just by being… being what I was. What we were. Right? We don’t change. Once a stupid selfish slut, always a stupid selfish slut, right?”

He realizes he’s accidentally included Chris in that estimation a moment too late, when he glances to the side and sees the look of profound hurt on his sort-of little brother’s face.

Great work, Kaur-Bore, you did it again.

“Oh, shit, Chris. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s, it’s okay,” Chris whispers. He’s rocking forward and back, his fingers scratching at his jeans, running along the seams. “It’s okay. I, I, I think it sometimes, too. Once, um, once a, once a-”

“No. Not you, Chris. Never you.” Kauri holds a hand out, and Chris takes it, even though he can’t stop rocking, keeps his other hand moving. “That was a shitty thing to say, and I shouldn’t have said it. What if I promise I’ll eat something before I start drinking, and I won’t have more than three drinks and one of whatever Westin brings? How’s that sound?”

Chris squeezes his hand. Someone honks - not even at him - but it reminds Kauri that his exit is right there and he has to take a hard swerve not to miss it. Chris lets go to put his hands in his hair and lean over, eyes closing tightly, breathing in gasps. “Kauri!”

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” Kauri soothes, both hands back on the wheel, hitting the brakes so they come to a sudden jerking stop at the light, waiting for it to turn green. “See? Look? I can’t even go very fast on this road. We’re almost there, I swear.”

“Okay.” Chris rocks forwards and back, forwards and back. His hands slip under his hoodie, and Kauri knows without having to see that he’s tapping, soothing himself with sensation that settles his fraying nerves, just like always. “Okay, okay, okay.”

“Okay.” Kauri nods, and as he forces himself to ease down the road instead of flying, he rubs at Chris’s back with one hand. “I’m sorry. I’m scaring you, aren’t I? I don’t-... I don’t handle this shit well, but I bounce back, I promise.” He lets out a bitter brittle laugh, startling himself a little. He hasn’t laughed like that in years. “Enough people tell you you’re a piece of shit and make it clear they can’t love you after, you get real good at letting it roll off your back.”

Chris hesitates. Kauri can see that he’s thinking. The quiet draws out between them as Kauri spots the telltale blue door and pulls into the parking lot, easing around the grass growing through the asphalt cracks, stubborn weeds that refuse to be destroyed by the conditions they have to grow in.

“... did he, he, he say that?” Chris asks, softly. The bass from the music is echoing out of the bar, and Kauri closes his eyes, letting his forehead rest against the steering wheel. “Kauri? Did, did, did Antoni say that, uh that he he he doesn’t… love you? Anymore?”

Kauri keeps his eyes closed.

“He didn’t have to,” Kauri whispers. It’s funny. He’d thought his voice would shake more, saying it, but he finds that all his fear is draining away. Falling down into the white light that lives so far back inside his mind, but always finds its way back out. “I know the way he looked at me. I’ve seen that look so many fucking times. And if Antoni can’t love me, who can?”

“I can.” Chris whispers it back, and Kauri turns his head without lifting it, watching Chris looking back at him, half-smiling. “Jake can.”

“... nah. Even he’s gotta give up the ghost eventually, right?”

Chris looks too solemn, too serious. It shatters Kauri’s heart. “You, you, you aren’t a ghost.”

Kauri could laugh. He could laugh until he ran out of air and blacked out right here, laugh until all the pain is hidden deeply enough that no one remembers he ever felt it but him. “Aren’t I? I’m not handling the love affairs of the guy who used to own my body super well, am I? Just keep fuckin’ it up. Jesus Christ. I’m such a piece of shit.”

Oh, good. The tears are back.

His voice gets thick and wet with them, and he has to hitch in breaths to say anything around a closing throat.

“I’m such shit. Antoni didn’t want me to fucking know because he knows I’ll just make it about me, and I did! I made it all about me and my problems and my bullshit. He lied to me because he knew I can’t take knowing that my life is something other people would rather die than admit to having lived, so I make it about me and I’m awful and I don’t even goddamn blame him for hating me now. I’m a piece of shit and a bad partner, and Saint Jake can’t keep swooping in to save me. Eventually the goddamn martyr’s going to realize he doesn’t have to die for my stupid fucking sins, and then he’ll tell me to get my ass out of the house and give him his ring back so he can give it to somebody else better than me."

Chris is silent. Doesn’t matter.

It isn’t really him Kauri’s talking to anymore.

“I ruin it. It's like my biggest fucking talent! I ruin everything good. I get a good thing and I fuck it up, I always have. All the way back to the man who I used to be, I bet he sucked at relationships, too. Bet he did. That’s why I’m like this now, it was already there, and my shitty fucking life has only made me worse. I thought I was getting better. Therapy, and not drinking so much… but I never got any better. Jesus. Who’s going to want me, huh? Who’s going to want a washed up whore who can’t keep a relationship together with the two most patient men on the entire fucking planet? Why can’t I stop myself from doing things I know are just going to make it worse? Why can’t I ever stop it before I fuck it all up again?”

There’s a pause.

"Why can't I ever remember I don't want to until I've already done it and it's too late to stop?"

Chris’s hand is warm against his back, suddenly, rubbing up and down. Offering him the same comfort he had given a minute ago, and Kauri shudders, forcing back a sob - or a scream - trying to find its way out.

“I love you,” Chris whispers. “As, as, as your brother. Your, um, your friend. I, I I I love you, and you, I, I mean it.”

“Love you too.” Kauri’s voice is wry, so thin it’s a single human hair stretched nearly to snapping. “I’m sorry I dragged you out with me, Chris. You probably had other plans, huh?”

“Not, not, not important ones.” His voice is a shrug. “I, I, I know how you, you, you feel.”

Kauri huffs. Is it laughter? He can’t even tell. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” Chris’s voice is low and sincere. “I, I, I think that a, um, a lot. That, that, that I’m only going to to to to… mess it up. That, that, that I always… I always do. Because I, I, I can’t-... have, um. With them. And I can’t… sometimes I get so, so scared of, of, of… of-...” He trails off. “Of it all. Of me. Come, come on, Kauri.”

Kauri looks at him, and Chris offers him a soft, sweet smile, leaning close. He smells like his shampoo, and laundry soap, and beneath all of that, the simple specific human Chris smell. “What?”

“Let’s, let’s, let’s go inside.” Chris leans over, impulsive and quick. Kauri feels his lips against his hair, warmth making its way down through the wild black curls, before he pulls back again. “Jake texted and, and, and said he’ll talk to, to, to to to Antoni. We, we, we can stay out for a, um, a while. You always, uh, always feel better… dancing.”

Well… he isn’t wrong.

“I guess you know me pretty well,” Kauri says, shifting back, rubbing at his eyes to get the last of the tears out, glancing at himself in the rearview mirror. In the dark, his eyes being reddened won’t be so obvious. He tries on his best, most glittering aren’t I the most gorgeous fucking thing and so humble too smile. Still looks good.

He always looks his best when he’s ready to shatter, after all.

Nobody looks as good getting torn apart as you do, Kaur-Bore.

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. Banishes Owen’s voice from his mind. “Okay. Let’s do this.” He steps out of the car, and Chris gets out on the other side. They pause, for a second, looking at the blue door. The light above it. An unobtrusive rainbow sticker pressed against the brick beside it.

“Three, um, three drinks,” Chris reminds him, leaning sideways to bump his shoulder into Kauri’s. “And one, um, pill or… snort? Or whatever?”

“I don’t snort,” Kauri says wryly. “Anymore.”

“You, you, you weren’t doing pills either, though?”

“... Fair point. You win. Fine. One pill or snort or whatever. Three drinks. That is all. And I’ll eat some dinner first so it doesn’t hit me so hard.”

“Then, then, then we’ll… figure it out. Yeah?” His head leans on Kauri’s shoulder, lavender hair halfway up his nose when he turns and has to sneeze and then they both laugh. For a second Kauri thinks maybe he doesn’t need the pill, anyway.

But it’d be rude, if Westin drives all the way out here…

“... Yeah,” Kauri says, softly. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out.”

The blue door opens, and Kauri winces when he hears what’s playing inside. Tell all the English boys you meet, about the American boy back in the States - the American boy you used to date, who would do anything you say…

“Shit. Forgot that it’s Wednesday.”

“Um. Why?”

“Wednesday is a slow night. They let the guy who manages the bar control the music, and he’s… well. He plays shit like this.”

If you say you ever missed me then don’t say you never lied-

I’m without you-

“It’s, it’s, it’s not bad, though?” Chris follows him as Kauri heads for the door. Inside, there’s not exactly a crush of bodies, but there’s a good few dozen men of varying ages, trending older than they do on Fridays and Saturdays. Chris is one of the youngest guys here.

“Oh, it’s not that bad now,” Kauri says, winding his way towards the bar, Chris’s hand in his. A few people still remember Kauri and waves or call out, and he waves back. Lots of Kauri! Haven’t seen you! How’ve you been! You good, man? Oh hey, you’re here! He doesn’t stop to flirt. “Just wait, though. Just wait until he gets super drunk later and starts playing Taking Back Sunday.”

“Starts, um, starts playing… is, is, is that… church music?”

“Oh my God. I love you so much, you sweet tiny baby child.” Kauri throws his head back with real, genuine, open laughter for the first time all night. He orders something candy-colored for himself, plus a burger and fries. Chris gets a vodka and soda and cheese fries.

Chris looks baffled, but Kauri can’t stop laughing, and when he pulls Chris close for a hug, the younger man never hesitates.

Kauri holds him tight, and thinks to himself that even if Antoni never wants to look at him again, he can survive the loss. This time, there’s someone who will hold him while he figures out what to do next. Someone who will stand next to him and listen as the music changes. The crowd, such as it is, takes it as a sign to go order more drinks. Just a few couples stay dancing.

Oh, you're silent but strong Yeah, I'm playing that card And you're noticing nothing again

Now I'm lying on the table with everything you said Keep that in mind, the way that it felt When the most I could do was to just blame myself

Kauri laughs again. He can’t stop, until his laughter is nearly a sob itself. His cheeks are wet, when did that happen? His knees nearly give out with the hilarity and the hurt swelling inside of him. “Oh my God. It’s goddamn Taking Back Sunday. Dan’s drunk and sad early tonight. Join the fucking club, I guess."

Well, I know you know everything I know you didn't mean it I know you didn't mean it Kauri hums along for a while. "Wow, this music is way better when you fucking hate yourself.”

“What?”

Now I'm lying on the table with everything you said It will all catch up eventually

Kauri shakes his head. “Never mind. Just… don’t let go. Don’t let go, Chris, please.”

Well, it caught up and honestly The weight of my decisions were impossible to hold But they were never yours

“I won’t.”

They were never yours

They rock to no beat in particular and nobody’s hands wander, no one whispers filthy things in anyone else’s ear. He doesn’t even want the drink that bad when it comes.

He will, in a minute.

But right now, it can sit on the bar sweating condensation while they move, side to side.

Stop everything Start it all over Remember more than you'd like to forget

Kauri is crying, but his head is buried against Chris’s neck, and Chris only tightens his arms. Kauri is drowning, his head dips below the water.

Chris’s arms are strong, though.

When Kauri gasps for air, he finds it.

If Antoni can’t forgive him, he’ll keep going. Kauri always keeps going. He’s always going to be fine, in the end, because he’s never had a choice. And if Jake hates him too and he has to be fine alone, well, he can do that.

Although Chris makes him think maybe he won’t have to.

Drop everything Start it all over...

----

As always, @autophagay, this is for you

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

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