In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to
seaweed_writes
Feb. 1st, 2018 12:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
No one knew how long Gods had walked among the mortals. They just knew they had. Some remained in their country of origin, some branched out and traveled. Others started business or charities. Some just went through existence simply being. Belief didn't have much to do with how the Gods chose to lead their lives.
This tale though, it focuses on the Greek Gods of old and Mount Olympus (which is a real place and traditionally is where Zeus is said to live with Hera).
John Watson didn't care for the politics of the Gods that surrounded them every day. He had other things to focus on, to pay attention to. Like medical school, and then the military. It wasn't until he was shot and laying in the desert, bleeding, did he whisper things to the God of Death, to Hades. To a god he didn't believe in. Blood whispers they were often called. And gods hardly paid attention to them, most believed they were the whispers of dying men.
But John Watson survived when others with the same injury had died. What was different about him?
He returned to London on an army pension and a cane. He shuffled through his life, a constant ache in his chest, like there was something missing. Though he had little to no idea of what was missing. He helped others where he could, donating his time and what little money. A homeless veteran (it boiled him so to see those who helped their country be left behind) once called him a beacon of light.
A beacon of light huh?
Most days he didn't feel like one. Most days his mood was dark and everything was shit.
One night when he was limping slowly back to his dismal bedsit, something caught his attention. He glanced down an alley and saw a tall man dressed in black, being mugged by some ratty youth. The man was far too posh for this neighborhood. So why was he here? But that didn't matter. John, on two strong legs, charged into the alley and used his cane to knock the criminal away. He didn't notice, but there seemed to be a light around him, an otherworldy aura to him.
He held the cane like a sword and pointed it at the would be thief. "You need to leave here." John commanded. It had been easy for some to forget that he had been Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers in Her Majesty's Army.
This tale though, it focuses on the Greek Gods of old and Mount Olympus (which is a real place and traditionally is where Zeus is said to live with Hera).
John Watson didn't care for the politics of the Gods that surrounded them every day. He had other things to focus on, to pay attention to. Like medical school, and then the military. It wasn't until he was shot and laying in the desert, bleeding, did he whisper things to the God of Death, to Hades. To a god he didn't believe in. Blood whispers they were often called. And gods hardly paid attention to them, most believed they were the whispers of dying men.
But John Watson survived when others with the same injury had died. What was different about him?
He returned to London on an army pension and a cane. He shuffled through his life, a constant ache in his chest, like there was something missing. Though he had little to no idea of what was missing. He helped others where he could, donating his time and what little money. A homeless veteran (it boiled him so to see those who helped their country be left behind) once called him a beacon of light.
A beacon of light huh?
Most days he didn't feel like one. Most days his mood was dark and everything was shit.
One night when he was limping slowly back to his dismal bedsit, something caught his attention. He glanced down an alley and saw a tall man dressed in black, being mugged by some ratty youth. The man was far too posh for this neighborhood. So why was he here? But that didn't matter. John, on two strong legs, charged into the alley and used his cane to knock the criminal away. He didn't notice, but there seemed to be a light around him, an otherworldy aura to him.
He held the cane like a sword and pointed it at the would be thief. "You need to leave here." John commanded. It had been easy for some to forget that he had been Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers in Her Majesty's Army.
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Date: 2018-03-04 04:49 pm (UTC)A few wiggles of his fingers, and they were both naked. "Getting undressed is so boring." He said, using a hand to keep John pinned to the bed.
"Mmm... this is going to be fun..." He growled.
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Date: 2018-03-04 05:00 pm (UTC)He squirmed just a bit, making small aborted noises. He wanted Moriarty to think him eager and weak.
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Date: 2018-03-04 05:12 pm (UTC)Moriarty pinned John to the bed with one hand, and started stroking himself with the other, getting himself to full hardness.. "I'm gonna love taking you unprepared..."He growled.
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Date: 2018-03-04 05:18 pm (UTC)John shook his head. He hated this, seeming weak. He wasn't weak. He was strong. But Moriarty underestimated him. And that would be his downfall.
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Date: 2018-03-04 05:27 pm (UTC)When he was nice and hard, he smiled down at John. He waggled his fingers, and a cock ring appeared in his hand. He lifted John enough to slide it onto the base of his cock. "Don't want my little hole to finish without me."
Another movement of his fingers and he had lube, just enough so he could slide in without chafing, but not enough to actually help John out.
"I'm soooo going to enjoy this.." He growls, then pushes himself into John.
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Date: 2018-03-04 05:39 pm (UTC)Remain calm. He sobbed and shook his head. He didn't want this. It wasn't Sherlock. But to get their home back...
"Big..." He managed. Stroke his ego.
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Date: 2018-03-04 05:50 pm (UTC)That would come later, he thought with a smile.
"Oh.. come on Johnny Boy.. This is fun! He bottomed out inside of John and only paused a moment before setting a blistering pace, fucking John hard and fast with no remorse or mercy.
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Date: 2018-03-04 06:14 pm (UTC)He'd had Sherlock as a mortal and he had lived, thrived. He had to get through this.
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Date: 2018-03-04 06:22 pm (UTC)"Oh, you were so good, my little Johnny. Almost seems like a shame I'm going to have to lose you soon..." His voice sounded happy, but there was something dark and sinister underneath it.
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Date: 2018-03-04 06:31 pm (UTC)He was... Unhappy. He hated this feeling, feeling like he betrayed Sherlock. He just wanted to end this. But not until Moriarty trusted him.
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Date: 2018-03-04 06:39 pm (UTC)Moriarty had stayed inside of John this whole time, and as soon as he stopped stalking, he started to thrust again, if it was possible he was even less gentle this time, ravaging John, taking him hard and fast and ruthlessly. It didn't take long for him to get to his end, another large amount of his essence spilling into John, enough that it was leaking out around his cock and out John's arse, down his thighs and to the bed.
This time, he finally did pull out, watching with a chuckle as more and more of his come dribbled out of John's hole.
"Oh, so beautiful."
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Date: 2018-03-04 06:49 pm (UTC)John gasped when Moriarty pulled free. There was a rush of come out of his hole. Staining the blankets under him.
He remained on his hands and knees, pretending to be obedient.
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Date: 2018-03-04 06:56 pm (UTC)"Stay just like that. I have something I.. have to attend to. But I will be back. And if I see that you have moved, even a little bit... well.. you don't want to see me disappointed.
He left the room, looking back, and over John one more time. "Ta!"
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:06 pm (UTC)He could do this. He had to to this. There was no one else. Too bad Zeus just couldn't strike Moriarty down.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:19 pm (UTC)But he didn't he just stood there. "Sadly, work calls." He waggled his fingers, and John's clothes were back on him, but he had not been cleaned. "Stay put, my love. Relax, I'll be back for you later.
And Moriarty did come back for him later. He took John multiple times in the couple of days that they had left, never letting John clean himself, until the last day, when he hand finally finished a marathon session of taking John, he collapsed beside him and created a shower with no curtain beside the bed, so Moriarty could watch him shower while he relaxed.
Finally, he released John's cock from the cock ring, letting it hang free.
"Give me a nice show, Johnny Boy. I won't get to see you for soooooo long." his voice got overly dramatic. "Come on. I know you must have a lot of pent up lust by now."
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:29 pm (UTC)Without a word, he wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stroke. He thought of Sherlock, gasping and biting his lip.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:35 pm (UTC)"Mm.. thinking about all the times I've taken you, Johnny Boy? Fucked you into the bed and watch me leak out of you?" He asked with a hungry growl.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:40 pm (UTC)John shifted, giving Moriarty a better view, seeing his testes drawn up tight. He was almost there...
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:44 pm (UTC)"Yes, Johnny Boy let me hear you say my name as you come.." He groaned and leaned closer, getting ready to come all over John's chest and stomach when he reached his crescendo.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:47 pm (UTC)He remained where he was, pliant and obedient.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:55 pm (UTC)He stroked a few more times, then stepped out of the shower.. In an instant he was clean and dry and dressed again, though he left John as he was in the shower.
"I'm going to miss you, Johnny Boy, my little whore. Are you gonna miss me?" He asked in a syrupy sweet voice.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:57 pm (UTC)He looked to Moriarty. "I will." He answered.
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Date: 2018-03-04 08:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-03-04 08:17 pm (UTC)He appeared in his flat in London and sighed. There was a spell in place, courtesy of Fates, that would give Moriarty what he wanted. An obedient, pining John.
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Date: 2018-03-04 08:27 pm (UTC)But the plant was grown, it was ready, Demeter said, and all Sherlock could do was wait for John's signal, when it was time to put the plan into action. He had no idea how much longer it would be. He knew John would be in London now, as the Winter Solstice had just passed, but who knew how things had gone with Moriarity. he knew John was still alive, he would feel it if John had died, so that was wonderful of course, but just because he wasn't dead didn't mean that the lunatic couldn't have done terrible things.
he sighed and paced the house, waiting.. waiting..
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