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python333 · 1 year ago

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soft spot — python333

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synopsis you've been having a bad day, and ghost feels like being extra nice to you. plot twist you're an age regressor and him being so nice is NOT helping.

relationships platonic agere cg!ghost & gn little!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 6.7k.

warnings a victorious reference, age regressor reader, usage of c/n [call sign/code name], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself]

note please feel free to attack me as much as you want if this is inaccurate. i don't even care if it's not constructive criticism. i am begging for everyone's thoughts and opinions on this!! this is also the longest oneshot i think i've ever written!

“Having fun there?”

You turn in your seat and find Ghost leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one eye slightly wider than the other—an indication that his eyebrow is raised.

“Not really,” You answer, setting down your gun. You’d been disassembling it, trying to take your mind off of the slowly growing headache that’s been building up for the past few hours. You don’t think it’s a migraine or anything, but it still bothers you greatly.

“Yeah, no, I can tell,” Ghost chuckles, pushing himself off of the door frame and walking over to you. He eyes your gun for a moment, the magazine already removed as well as any live rounds left in the rifle ejected, and the bolt locked to the rear. You were only maybe a quarter of the way through your disassembly, even though you started around thirty minutes ago.

For some reason, you woke up upset today. You were too tired, you felt awfully sluggish, and there was a throbbing pain clustered in the back of your eyebrows. So, in short—you were reasonably very upset. It showed visibly in the way your eyes twitched every so often, and in the way you felt the need to pinch the bridge of your nose to distract you from the pain that was still building up behind your brows.

“What’s going on?” He asks, leaning on the table.

“I have this headache that won’t go away,” You respond, sighing as you move your gaze from your gun to Ghost. You can barely see it, but from his eyes you can tell that his face scrunches up beneath his mask. He knows a thing or two about bad headaches, being someone who frequently gets migraines himself.

“Have you taken any meds for it?” You shake your head ‘no’. Ghost holds up a single finger in a ‘one moment’ motion and rummages through the pockets on his tactical vest for a moment, before he pulls out a small bottle of ibuprofen no bigger than his palm. He hands it to you.

“Here.” You blink at it for a moment.

“Thanks,” You take the bottle gingerly and Ghost nods, watching you as you struggle with the child-proof lid for a second before getting it open. You shake out a small tablet, one the size of a low-dosage aspirin, and pop it into your mouth. You don’t have much of an issue dry-swallowing it, and it only takes one attempt before you successfully swallow the tablet.

“You’ve been feeling pretty bad this whole week, haven’t you?” Ghost frowns underneath his mask.

You think for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I guess. I think it’s mostly just stress.”

You know it’s not just stress.

For a while now, you’ve used something called ‘age regression’ as a form of stress relief. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you do know that it was before you were recruited for the 141. And originally, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t regress while on base, and you kept that promise for maybe a month before you broke it.

You think it was Ghost that was the trigger, actually. You can vividly remember the first time you regressed while on base; you had just finished talking to Ghost, and he called you something—you think he called you something similar to ‘kid’—that made a flip in your mind switch immediately. You can remember excusing yourself from the conversation quickly, leaving your lieutenant slightly confused but otherwise unbothered by the strange action.

And, worst of all, you can remember being in your quarters and practically burrowing under your blankets. You were curled up into a fetal position, trying to fight the urge to suck on your thumb or at least chew on something, but ultimately lost the fight and succumbed to your urges. You spent maybe a few hours like that, wide awake when you just wanted to try and sleep it away, thinking about that interaction you had with Ghost over and over again.

You’re not stupid. You know that Ghost has some sort of soft spot for you—albeit, you don’t know exactly how soft that soft spot is, but it’s definitely soft. Soft enough that he goes the tiniest bit easier on you compared to other recruits, soft enough that he spares you more time than he does for others, and the most obvious of all—he initiates most of your conversations.

Contrary to popular belief, he’s not the scary super-soldier most people think of him as. Sure, maybe he is kind of scary, and maybe his mask does jumpscare you when you’re doing missions in particularly dark spaces sometimes, but other than that he’s not scary in the slightest. If anything, he’s awkward. Awkward enough that he’s almost never the first person to talk to someone—except for you, of course. You don’t know why he acts so differently around you, but you don’t complain about it.

“That’s rough,” Ghost looks down at you with concerned, empathetic eyes, “Sorry you’re so stressed. Mind me askin’ why?”

“I don’t, but I also don’t know why I’m so stressed,” You huff out, even though you know the answer completely. You stand up, “I think it’s just me being sleep deprived. I’ve been having the tiniest bit of trouble falling asleep lately.”

“You should’ve told me earlier,” Ghost tuts, “I have melatonin.”

You give him a confused look. “You do?”

“‘Course I do.”

You blink at him for a moment before sighing, “Could I have some then?”

“What’s the magic word?” You give him an unimpressed look, ignoring the way the words make your stomach twist, and his eyes crinkle in a way that lets you know that he’s grinning under his mask.

“Could I please have some melatonin?”

“The magic word was lotion, but I’ll let it slide,” Ghost hums, “There’s some in my office. I’ll grab it for you later.”

“M’kay,” You look over at the door, unintentionally zoning out as you do. Your vision goes unfocused as the throbbing pain behind your eyebrows grows and something else grows inside of you.

Jesus. Why can’t you choose any other time to get the urge to slip into a younger mentality? Why does your headache have to make everything worse for you? Why does Ghost have to be so nice and helpful?

“Hey,” Ghost frowns, tapping a finger on your shoulder to snap you out of whatever trance you’re in, “[c/n]?”

Oh God.

Your eyes—that you try desperately to keep neutral—meet Ghost’s, his eyes soft and his eyebrows dipped downwards in a confused manner. His eyes are searching, flitting over you, trying to find something. The way he looks at you makes you want to squirm, and you can’t help but just slightly shuffle in place.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, voice as concerned as his look. That should be the breaking point for you, but you remain as big as you can be, and nod affirmatively.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You try to assure him, hoping you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, “I think I’m just a little tired.”

Ghost doesn’t look convinced.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, the act like a hammer putting another dent in the wall you had put up. The leather of his glove is warm even through the thick material of your shirt, and it feels like hot metal against your cold skin, the clothing covering your shoulder be damned.

“You can tell me if you’re not okay,” He tells you—what is he doing? Does he know something I don’t?—while his thumb starts rubbing circles into your shoulder, “I feel like you’re more than a little tired.”

You stay silent for a little bit. You don’t know how to explain yourself, the words seeming to liquify and leak right out of you, making you speechless. He seems to notice this, sighing and letting his hand slip down to your hand, holding it and giving it a quick squeeze.

“I think,” He looks around for a moment before turning back to you, “that we should head to my office so that nobody can bother us, and then you can tell me all about how you’re feeling right now. Does that sound okay?”

You nod wordlessly, not trusting yourself to talk with how heavy your tongue feels, and you let Ghost lead you back to his office. It’s only a hallway away, but that’s still enough time to overthink everything that could possibly happen. How does he know something’s wrong? What gave it away? Did I do something bad? What did I do? Wh—

The creak of his office door opening snaps you out of your thoughts, and Ghost steps aside to let you enter his office first. Hesitantly, you take a few steps inside, and you hear the door click shut behind you as Ghost walks in. He takes your hand again, making you look at him as he guides you to a chair.

You sit in the chair that’s in front of his desk, and he quickly drags out the chair that’s behind it so that it’s right next to yours. He sits down.

He’s looking at you expectantly.

“Uh.” You’re not sure what to say. He’s looking at you so reassuringly, it’s hard to keep yourself sitting upright.

“I know something’s wrong,” Ghost says, leaning forward the tiniest bit, “I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

He’s got to have at least some idea of what you’re experiencing, You think, trying to form some sort of explanation, He’s being so… weird?

You swear there’s some other word you could use, but your vocabulary feels so limited, and you would mentally curse if you could because you know that now your explanation is gonna sound weird. You can’t use the words you want, you’re gonna be forced to use simple words, ones that can’t convey exactly how you feel. Words that—and it physically pained you to admit this—were childish.

You can explain your situation. Just, now it would be more… blunt. And short. And also you’d feel like killing yourself afterwards. You won’t, obviously, but you can predict that you’ll come very close to doing so.

Okay, I have to say something because Ghost is looking more and more worried the longer I stay silent.

“I feel…” You trail off for a moment, trying to get your thoughts in order for the next two seconds to actually say something that makes sense, before continuing in a far less confident tone, “… small.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Ew. Ew. Ew. What. Why? Why that word? It leaves a sour taste on your tongue and yet you can’t think of any other word that would better suit how you feel. Still. Ew.

Your thoughts are a jumbled mess ranging from fleeting thoughts of disgust to thoughts lodged in the back of your mind begging you to go anywhere else just so that you can stop having to have this conversation. This conversation requires words bigger than you have access to, and a sort of control over yourself that you can’t grasp. You can feel your hands twitching, wanting something to hold onto, anything to keep you distracted from the overwhelming urge to just regress.

Ghost blinks. He didn’t expect that answer.

“Small?” He repeats in a questioning tone, eyebrows furrowed, “I mean, compared to me, I guess you’re kind of short—”

“No, no, not like short small,” You try to clarify, feeling just slightly discouraged by Ghost’s confused words, “Like…”

You struggle to find the words that properly describe how you feel, only finding words like small and little in your current vocabulary. Your findings are making you increasingly upset, and you can feel your face start to grow hot with frustration and embarrassment.

Oh my God.

“Like…?” Ghost nudges your knee with his, trying to encourage you to talk, “I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

There’s still a level of care in his words, no matter how confused he seems, and that adds all the more struggle to your predicament. Not only do you not want to tell him, but you can’t describe how you feel in a way that’s acceptable for someone your age to describe anything. At least, not in a way that you deem acceptable for yourself to describe anything.

You’re far too old to be describing yourself as small.

“[c/n]?” Ghost nudges you again, and you blink at him. Your eyes are flickering all over his mask, going anywhere but his eyes, since eye contact with anyone would make everything significantly worse for you right now.

“It’s just—” You try to take a deep breath but your breath hitches. Everything is starting to make you feel so frustrated, and you’re starting to think that you might just throw a tantrum if you can’t do at least one thing right. You try to find the words you want to use but your throat is disobediently closing on you. Your mind feels like straight mush, and the quickly softening look that Ghost is giving you isn’t helping you at all.

To your horror, in your inexplicable inability to talk in the way you normally do, you let out a small whine. It sounds obnoxious to your ears, and worst of all, sounds like something a little kid would do.

You put your head in your hands, the quickly reddening skin of your cheeks getting cooled by the cold of your palms as you try and hide your face from Ghost. You can picture how he looks right now—somehow more confused than earlier, possibly annoyed, weirded out—and all those mental images make you bite your tongue to prevent another noise.

“What was that?” You don’t answer him.

To your non-answer, Ghost sighs, and you think, This is it, this is where he kicks me out of his office, oh my God I’m gonna get dishonorably discharged and he’s gonna give me a really mean look on my way out—

“Look at me.” You shake your head negatively.

“Why not?” He sounds so confused, it makes you want to cry. There’s still a level of worry in his voice, and it adds to the fog that builds up in your brain.

You move your face just slightly up so that your eyes peek out from above your fingertips, your hands covering the rest of your face. Ghost reaches out both of his hands, and ever so gently removes your hands from your face, uncovering your red cheeks and your lips—the lower of which quivers, like you’re about to cry. He notices this quickly, and you can practically feel the level of his worry shoot up.

He doesn’t say anything, instead just holding your hands in his for a moment, before he sets them down into your lap. He looks at you, concerned, and asks, “Is it hard to talk right now?”

You nod. His gaze shifts to his computer, and then back to you.

“I’m gonna go look a few things up really quick, okay? I’ll just be right over there,” He nods over to the space behind his computer, “and I’ll be right back here in a few seconds.”

You reluctantly nod again, and Ghost gets up from his seat. He grabs the back of the chair and drags it back around behind his desk, sitting down in it and powering on his monitor. It turns on almost immediately, much to his relief, and he goes to his browser and searches up a few things. You can’t tell what he’s searching up, only hearing the clacking of keys and the occasional final click that indicates that he’s hit the enter button.

He stays there for maybe a minute or two. It’s a long few minutes, and you can feel yourself slipping more and more the longer he stays at his computer. And the more you feel yourself slipping into that younger mindset, the more you start to crave Ghost’s attention.

The way his eyes are glued to his computer starts to irritate you. You’re aware that he’s doing something important, he must be, because why would he be so intent on looking something up otherwise, but still—you manage to feel the tiniest bit jealous of the computer. You know you’re too far gone when you can’t find it within yourself to realize that you’re jealous of a computer.

Your eyes linger on him and he must notice this because he looks up from the screen of his monitor and looks over at you. As if he can read your mind, he reassures you, “Just a few more seconds.”

But you said you were gonna be back in a few seconds a few minutes ago.

You don’t voice your thoughts. Instead, you nod, because God forbid you annoy Ghost with your need for attention now when he’s being so patient with you. He looks at you for another moment before going back to his computer and looking something else up, this time with a little more fervor.

Another few seconds pass and, true to his word this time, Ghost stops and gets up from his chair. He walks over to you, and your eyes follow him intently. He kneels down in front of you.

He looks hesitant to say something to you. That’s a first. That adds to the exponentially growing blob of fear that lives inside your mind, one of the only things that’s still prominent in the fog that conquers your brain.

“Are you…” You feel like you know what he’s gonna ask you. You’re bracing yourself for the question, and he looks like he’s bracing himself just to ask it.

“How, uh,” He’s trying to find the right wording, and you’ve never been able to relate to him harder than you do in this moment, “How… do you feel right now? How old?”

How old? You don’t really like that question. As much as you like that you’re now getting attention, you’re starting to remember how little you actually enjoy this type of attention. The question is pretty vague, but at the same time so specific, and you’re almost ashamed to know exactly what the answer is. Or, at least, you would feel ashamed if there was room in your mind to feel so.

“You said you feel small, right? Not like short small, just small?” He sounds more unsure of himself now, and you don’t think you like seeing him so reluctant to say something, “I looked up what it means to feel like that. Took some time, but I got to some person’s… website, and the person who wrote it was talkin’ about feeling like that. Something about regression, feeling a little bit younger than usual?”

He’s being so awkward about it, and while you typically find his awkwardness funny, now it’s anything but that.

“Uhm,” Your voice comes out as a mumble and you see Ghost perk up at it. You don’t know what to say. For a moment, you’re silent again, before you get over your embarrassment for a quick two seconds and force yourself to say, “Four.”

“Four?” Ghost asks, before quickly realizing, “Right. Four. You feel four?”

You nod, and your hands instinctively start moving back up to cover your face. Ghost swiftly grabs them, keeping his grip gentle as he keeps them from reaching your face.

“Hey, don’t try to hide again,” He says, tone softening as he holds your hands, “everything’s fine, okay? Do you— what, uh— do you need me to do anything? Do you want me to leave you alo—”

“No!” You quickly answer, a little surprised by your own volume, before you clear your throat and answer in a much more quiet voice, “Don’t leave me alone.”

“Okay, okay,” Ghost’s thumbs rub across the back of your hands, a soothing gesture that makes you the tiniest bit more relaxed, “what do you need?”

You sniffle, and you can see an immediate look of panic cross Ghost’s eyes. You don’t know how well he is with crying children, and don’t want to impose such a situation on him, but you also can’t stop the tears that begin to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry,” He borderline begs, “everything’s gonna be okay, okay? Please do not cry. Take a deep breath.”

You try to take a deep breath, you really do, but your breath just hitches and gets caught in your throat. It only makes you more distressed, adding to the urge you have to just disappear. Ghost notices your failed deep breathing and lets go of one of your hands, before taking the other and holding it to his chest.

You can just barely feel his heartbeat, his thick tactical vest and gear in the way of it, but you can still feel it. Ghost takes a deep breath, holding it for a second or two before slowly exhaling.

“You copy me, okay?” He tells you, his words an order but his tone suggesting otherwise. He takes another deep breath, this time hoping you’ll follow his lead, and you do.

You try to breathe with him, your hand on his chest helping, but your breath keeps getting caught in your throat. Ghost notices this, but continues his breathing anyway, hoping you’ll catch on soon. You do, thankfully—after a few more attempted breaths, you finally manage one almost identical to Ghost’s. The next few after that go similarly, and that’s when Ghost decides you’re alright to take your hand off of his chest.

“I need you to tell me what to do,” He says, keeping your hand in his hold, “or at least tell me how all of this works. I want to help you.”

You really don’t want to tell him what you need right now, but you also don’t think you have a choice.

Wordlessly, you stand up from your seat, balance just slightly off-center before you quickly get your footing right. Ghost watches you, not moving, before you tug on his hand to try and urge him to get up as well. He obliges, getting up.

“What—” You interrupt him by taking another step forward and letting your head thump right into his chest, ignoring the itchy uncomfortable feeling of his vest against your face. You don’t bother to wrap your arms around him to at least try and form some sort of hug, preferring to just smush yourself into him and hope for the best.

After a moment of stunned silence, he wraps his arms around you.

“You mind if we move behind my desk so I can look up some more stuff on all of this?” He asks, voice quiet, “Unless you want to just tell me?”

“Desk,” You simply mumble into his vest, making him nod.

“Alright, but you’re gonna have to stop hugging me for a second,” Ghost warns you. You reluctantly step away, and Ghost smiles softly down at you, bringing his hands away from your back and instead holding one of yours.

He leads you behind his desk, and lets go of your hand before sitting down in his chair. Pausing, he quickly realizes you have nowhere to sit, and thinks for a moment before getting back up. He drags his chair just slightly to the side and looks back at you.

“Sit down,” He nods to the chair, “It’s only gonna be a minute or two, alright?”

You nod, hesitantly moving to sit in the chair, not really liking how far away from Ghost it is. It's not that far, You try to rationalize, I’m gonna be fine.

Ghost can see your hesitation and tries to work as quickly as he can, grateful that he didn’t turn his computer off earlier, typing away on his keyboard. You don’t care to see what he’s looking up, more focused on looking at the time on his monitor. 21:44. 21:45. The time ticks by and even though it’s only been a few seconds you already want Ghost’s attention again. His attention has actually turned into good attention, and that’s the type of attention you’ve been craving for the past week.

The clock reads 21:47 once Ghost is done, and he powers his monitor off this time, the small whirring the device makes dying down to a low hum before going completely silent. He turns to you, and somehow can sense that you need more attention.

“Am I not paying enough attention to you?” He teases you, making you conflicted on whether you should be annoyed by the teasing or happy you’re finally getting attention. As if he can read your mind, he chuckles, and kneels down to your level.

“I’m gonna give you as much attention as you need, alright?” He promises, “I just need you to stay in this room.”

—

Ghost watches you nod non-verbally, and it only adds to his softening expression.

He’s always had a soft spot for kids. He knows that you aren’t technically a kid, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still see you as one. You’re young for someone in the military, much less someone in this 141, and now that he’s found out that you’re an age regressor, that you’re a little—well, that doesn’t help how he sees you at all.

He thinks that maybe the reason he has such a soft spot for kids is a few encounters he’s had with them in the past. He’s seen far too many in compromising positions while on missions; positions like being held hostage, being held as prisoner, or just generally being mistreated or even just living in bad conditions.

He looks at you, and he just sees another one of those kids.

He sees how you act around him. He’s not stupid. When he talks to you, you’re actually engaged in the conversation, compared to when anyone else tries to talk to you—maybe excluding Price, or Soap, or Gaz, heavy on that maybe—you’re more likely than not brushing them off every chance you get. You’re standoffish with everyone else, but with him, you’ll always accept any conversation he initiates.

He can also see the way you look at him. It’s like you’re looking at your idol, or your savior, the way you look up at him. He can see that curious glint in your eyes when he tells you about a recent mission, or when he tells you anything, really. He can see when you try to mimic how he holds his weapons, and when you try to copy his techniques.

He remembers catching you one day in the shooting range trying to mimic how he aims at the targets—looking through your scope with one eye closed, the other focused only on the dot centered on the scope, taking a deep breath in and out before shooting, and keeping the gun exactly like that even seconds after the shot’s been fired.

In fact, the copying has gone from guns to melee weapons recently. Ghost swings only his forearm when he uses a knife, thumb resting on the very end of the knife’s handle, and entire arm stiff as he does. He does a slow windup when behind someone, a fast one on the off-chance that he’s in front, and buries the weapon to the hilt in whoever’s flesh he’s penetrated. He’s already seen you do the same on a recent mission. Not only that, but he caught you using a knife almost identical to his.

And now, you’re still looking at him like that—except, different. Sort of like how a kid might look up to their parents.

“What do you feel like doing, kiddo?” He asks, hoping the pet name isn’t too much.

From the way your eyes light up, he suspects it isn't.

“Mmm…” You hum, thinking for a moment, before requesting, “Coloring?”

“Coloring, huh?” Ghost looks around for some blank paper and some sort of marker or pen thick enough to act as one, but can only find some highlighters. He turns to you, frowning, “Sorry, but I don’t think I have any paper, kid. Anything else you wanna do?”

You shake your head, and Ghost is just about ready to jump off of a bridge before you point to his arm and repeat, “Coloring.”

He looks at his arm for a second, confused, before he remembers a conversation the two of you had a month or so ago.

“If you ever wanna get tattoos, I know a guy in Brighton,” Ghost said, reclining his chair back so that he can lay down in it. You were sitting across from him in front of his desk, fiddling with one of his pens.

“Good to know,” You hummed, “You have any tattoos?”

“Yeah,” You perked up at his admission, and he sat up for a second to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn’t wearing his usual gear, only one of those standard issue army-green shirts.

“Here,” He pointed to a large tattoo covering his whole arm like a sleeve, a few designs you could point out to yourself being a skull, a few Roman numerals, and some kind of scythe.

“Very emo,” You commented, making Ghost snort, “I like it.”

“I’m glad,” He rolled his sleeve back down.

There’s a lot of blank space in the tattoo, despite it being a sleeve, and he can already tell that you mean you want to color in that space. He thinks about it for a moment, a fleeting thought of is that even safe? crossing his mind before he ultimately decides that he doesn’t care and would rather kill himself than see you disappointed because he denied your request, his own health be damned.

“Alright,” He hums, grabbing a few highlighters from a mesh cup on his desk in the colors pink, yellow, and blue, “Go for it.”

You give him a small smile and if he cared about if he’d get ink poisoning two seconds ago, he sure as hell doesn’t care now. You gingerly grab the highlighters from his hand, your grabbing not too secure and sort of clumsy but secure enough that the markers stay in your hand.

You hold them with both hands, and it makes Ghost realize how small your hands are—sure, you could hold the highlighters with one hand, but he’s glad you aren’t because now he can admire just how small you are as a whole.

You set the yellow and blue down on his desk, making sure they don’t roll off for a moment before uncapping the pink and hesitantly holding out a hand for Ghost’s arm. He rolls up his sleeve and obediently holds out his arm for you, watching curiously as you press the cold tip of the highlighter to his skin. You’re starting by coloring in the skull a neon pink, much to his amusement, and you’re starting in the dead center of its forehead.

You’re so much more quiet than you usually are when you’re little, and you’re so much more hesitant, it makes Ghost want to just wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe and in his sight forever.

Your tongue slightly pokes out from between your lips as you concentrate on coloring in Ghost’s tattoo, making him grin beneath his mask. The ink of the highlighter doesn’t stay within the black bounds of his tattoos at all, but he doesn’t care one bit, and he doesn’t think you care either. You finish up the skull quickly, and move onto the scythe that’s right next to it, this time capping the pink highlighter and grabbing the yellow.

Ghost is pretty sure this is gonna stain his skin for a day or two, but he couldn’t care less.

He can’t help but notice how much more relaxed you look in your regressed state. More at peace, he should say. There’s no longer a hunch in your shoulders, your eyes aren’t twitching from your headache, and you’re not bouncing your leg like you usually do when you’re sitting down somewhere. It’s like any anxieties you had pre-regression had evaporated, like slipping into a younger mentality had taken away most of your worries, if not all of them.

He also can’t help but wish he could see you like this more often. Not necessarily the regressed part, but the relaxed part. Well, maybe the regressed part too. You’re being such a sweetheart right now, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to live through this experience.

“You having fun there, darling?” Ghost asks, his grin evident in his voice. The corners of your lips quirk up at the pet name and you nod silently, and now Ghost is starting to think you’re actually trying to kill him. You’re being so uncharacteristically shy, and you’re being so quiet, and you’re just being so sweet.

It seems you’ve moved onto the blue highlighter now, coloring in the last bit of his tattoo. He doesn’t think he’ll ever wash it off—or, at least, he wouldn’t if he had a choice. He knows that he has to shower sometime soon, but surely he can put that off for a bit, right?

Once you’re finished with your coloring, you cap the highlighter, and set it down next to the others you’ve discarded. You turn Ghost’s arm the tiniest bit towards him so that he can see your work better.

“‘s it good?” You ask quietly, watching intently for Ghost’s reaction. He looks over your coloring job and hums approvingly.

“It’s amazing, I love it,” He assures you, smiling down softly at you, “You did great.”

You seem to preen at the praise, and you take your hand off of Ghost’s arm, moving to put in your lap. You’re keeping yourself very contained, Ghost notices, Why?

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears you yawn, and you quickly move to cover your mouth as you do. He’s reminded that it’s almost twenty-two hundred, and while that usually wouldn’t be an issue for him, it’s an issue for you. You originally came to the 141 as someone who had a sleep schedule almost as fucked up at Ghost’s, but soon developed a habit of going to sleep somewhat early considering the training you had in the morning. So, now you get tired anywhere from eighteen-hundred to twenty-one hundred. After that, your only goal is to find somewhere to sleep.

“Sleepy?” You nod tiredly, making Ghost coo, Ghost, the man who quite literally haunts some people’s nightmares, coos at you, “Aw, of course you are, sweetheart. Pretty sure it’s way past your bedtime by now.”

“Nuh uh,” You deny, making Ghost chuckle.

“‘Nuh uh’?” He asks, amused, “What d’you mean ‘nuh uh’?”

“No b’dtime,” You shortly elaborate.

“Ohhh, okay,” Ghost feigns realization, “You think you’re too big for a bedtime, huh?”

“Mhm. Way too big.”

“I dunno about ‘way’ too big,” Ghost hums, checking to see if the highlighter on his arm has dried before he pulls his sleeve back down. “You seem pretty little to me.”

“No,” You whine, dragging out the ‘o’, “Not lil’.”

“Hmm… you sure, kiddo?” Ghost asks, “So if I ask you if you need to go to bed, you’re gonna say ‘no’?”

That makes you hesitate, and Ghost almost thinks he’s won, before your own pettiness wins and you nod affirmatively. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Alright, well, you’ve gotta sleep at some point,” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair.

You think this over for a second, and he watches as you look over him for a moment before looking down at his lap, then looking back up at him. He can already tell there’s some sort of plan forming in your mind. Wordlessly, you get up, and Ghost does nothing to stop you as you decide to just plop yourself down into his lap. You straddle his thighs, moving until you’re sitting comfortably on him, and then let yourself slump forward so that your face is resting in the crook of his neck. It takes him a moment to process what just happened, before he laughs lightly and wraps both of his arms around you to keep you in place.

“Oh, okay,” He grins, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you just wanna cuddle with me until you fall asleep? Is that what this is?”

He feels you nod against his neck, and his grin grows as he rubs one hand against your back, trying to soothe you to sleep. He doesn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract you from your attempts to sleep anymore, simply letting you stay slumped against him. Your breathing wasn’t too fast-paced to begin with, but as you relax even more in his arms, he can feel your breathing even out.

You’re falling asleep fairly quickly, and the only complaint he has is that he didn’t get to spend nearly as much time as he wanted to with you while you were awake and regressed.

Once he’s sure you’re barely awake, he murmurs, “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?”

—

You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the slight rustling of clothes, and then you feel yourself moving up.

Your mind still feels foggy and you can tell you’re still somewhat in that younger mindset of yours, but now you’re significantly less bothered by it than you were before. You’re awake enough to be aware of what’s happening, always having been a light-sleeper, but not awake enough to know exactly what’s happening. You don’t dare open your eyes, and try to keep your breathing even—though that isn’t much of a challenge.

That headache that had been building up earlier has fully disappeared, thank God, and you no longer feel the tension in your shoulder that you’d been unconsciously carrying.

You can sort of feel someone’s arms snaked under your back, and you know that you’re being moved somewhere. Quickly, you remember that it’s Ghost carrying you, and that you had fallen asleep on him, much to your embarrassment. Or, at least, it would be much to your embarrassment if you had the mental capacity to feel embarrassed about that right now. But you feel so comfy and so safe that it really doesn’t matter to you right now.

You can hear the clicking of Ghost’s boots against the concrete floors of the hallway, and he’s carrying you off somewhere; you imagine that somewhere to be your sleeping quarters. He’s walking pretty fast, not hurriedly but still at a somewhat fast pace.

Soon, he reaches a stopping point where he has to awkwardly put one leg up to support your back on his thigh as he quickly reaches one arm out to turn the knob of the door to your sleeping quarters and pulls that arm right back to support your back again. He sighs as he puts his foot back down, kicking open the door and walking in.

He’s quick to reach your bed, and he pauses as he considers what to do. You can practically hear him thinking, wondering how he’s gonna get you under the covers while he’s still carrying you, and for a second you think about showing him you’re awake so that things are easier for him before he sets you down on the bed.

He pulls the covers up and stops when he reaches the part your body covers, and picks you back up, before dropping you right back off where the blankets have been pulled away. He pulls the covers back over you.

After a few moments, you think he’s left the room, before you hear the rustling of fabric and feel him leaning down. He gently presses his lips to your forehead and pulls away after a second or two, before quietly mumbling, “Night, kiddo.”

He stays there for a moment before you hear his footsteps leave the room, and then the door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the room entirely.

You’re quick to fall asleep after that.

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #ghost #age regression #caregiver ghost #ghost x reader #platonic ghost x reader #platonic ghost #i find him so lovely #hes my dad guys trust #i was literally meant to be his kid #trust that if i ever get any cod games with him in it i will spend the whole time admiring him #dad pls come back home #i miss u #python333

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ginnymoonbeam · 4 months ago

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Ep 8 of The On1y One had so much, but now that I've cried over the word "home" I wanna go back to the scenes between the teachers, because it hit some queer realities we don't often get in BL.

First, Jenny Yang noticing Lin Bei Ting's rainbow mug and asking if he supports gay rights. That's not code for asking if he's gay - in plenty of places and times, just being an ally is controversial and something you might need to be careful about revealing in a conservative workplace. I take all of Jenny's comments and warnings at face value there: she's letting him know this is not a safe place to be public as an ally. Of course he is also actually gay, so the threat to him is much higher, which is why he immediately gives her the mug.

Then the later scene, getting more into a dynamic that we've already seen where Zhao Xi is friendly to the point of gentle flirtation with Jenny, and Lin Bei Ting is clearly unhappy. When we first saw this in ep 7, I wondered if I'd been wrong to read Zhao Xi and Lin Bei Ting as already a couple, but seeing it here and with the previous conversation in mind, I think they are. There's "we're not saying anything but people can draw their own conclusions" closeted and then there's seriously for-real closeted where you might opt to do things like casually flirt with a female coworker to keep up the appearance, and the latter is what I see happening in these scenes. They would absolutely lose their jobs at the school and probably would have their business targeted if people thought they were a couple. Lin Bei Ting understands what Zhao Xi is doing and why, but it sucks and feels bad. The little apologetic "here's your tea too" moment said so much, in how they both understand what's happening here and there's not much Zhao Xi can do in the moment, in public, to make it up to him.

All this happening in an episode where it seems like the whole world is gossiping about Jiang Tian and Sheng Wang moving into the dorms just makes my heart ache for the boys, and the threats they might face. I think the juxtaposition is deliberate and I think Zhao Xi is having some of the same thoughts as the teachers discuss the kids. My read is that he knows or guesses Jiang Tian is gay and has been shepherding him a little on that basis, standing by to give him guidance or just a gleam of hope, in the way that we elder queers do when we see young ones that don't have home and family support. We'll see where it all goes, but I really love the way the elders have been woven into the story so far.

#the on1y one #ginny watches

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unscharf-an-den-raendern · 8 months ago

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How to Briefwahl

So Leute, ich hab gerade zum ersten Mal per Briefwahl gewählt (weil hier am selben Tag Kommunalwahlen sind und man da so viele Stimmen hat) und es ist wirklich sehr einfach.

Beantragung

Auf eurer Wahlbenachrichtigung findet ihr eine Anleitung dafür. Bei mir war ein QR-Code drauf, den musste ich einfach nur einscannen, die Angaben aus der Wahlbenachrichtigung und meine Anschrift angeben und das war's dann auch schon.

Die Wahl

Falls ihr in Baden-Württemberg, Brandenburg, Hamburg, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Rheinland-Pfalz, dem Saarland, Sachsen oder Sachsen-Anhalt wahlberechtigt seit, werden euch Unterlagen für zwei Wahlen zugeschickt: Die Europawahl und die Kommunalwahl. Ihr seid selbstverständlich nicht verpflichtet auch bei beiden Wahlen zu wählen.

Die Europawahl ist in jedem Bundesland gleich: Man kriegt einen (sehr langen) Wahlzettel und darf sich für eine Partei entscheiden. Diesen Wahlzettel steckt man dann in den mitgelieferten Stimmzettelumschlag. Dann schreibt man auf die ebenfalls mitgelieferte Eidesstattliche Erklärung das Datum und seine Unterschrift und steckt diese zusammen mit dem zugeklebten Stimmzettelumschlag in den mitgelieferten Wahlumschlag (nicht den Umschlag, in dem die Unterlagen angekommen sind!)

Kommunalwahlen sind in jedem Bundesland anders geregelt, aber auch da gilt: Stimmzettel ausfüllen (bei mir gab's noch ne Anleitung dazu), Stimmzettel in Stimmzettelumschlag stecken und zukleben, Eidesstattliche Erklärung ausfüllen und zusammen mit dem Stimmzettelumschlag in den Wahlumschlag stecken und zukleben.

Die Wahlumschläge verschickt man dann entweder unfrankiert mit der Post oder gibt sie an der angegebenen Empfängeradresse ab.

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foolinafable · 5 months ago

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time

Keith Kogane x Fem!Reader Synopsis: The mission was simple. All Keith had to do was find the rebel's undercover operative and get them out of Haggar's ship before the coalition attacked it. He didn’t expect you to have no idea and fight back. But that was fine, or it was until he tried to stab you with a sleeping injection only for him to not be able to touch you with it. No this wasn't simple at all. Word Count: 1.5K Tags: Soulmate au

Soulmates are few and far between on earth. When you're younger you might go around pinching people to see if it hurts them but as you get older and realise how many people are on this planet you slowly give up and settle for someone else. Rarely would you ever see someone going around and hurting others in order to find their soulmate? Or even people hurting others accidentally and that person actually being their soulmate- it’s not really the culture.

Keith never cared for it anyway, preferring to believe that he was destined to be forever alone because nobody could ever be the other half of him. His views are largely different to Lance's, who dreams about the day he would meet “the love of his life,” always daydreaming about someone he may never meet.

Keith thought it was ridiculous but then again Lance’s parents were soulmates so maybe that instilled a false self of hope in the Cuban who rather than be worried he may never meet his soulmate especially now they were in space was now excited at the prospect that they could be in an entirely different galaxy- a thought that would make others like Keith feel hopeless. No matter how many times Keith tried to tell the boy not to get his hopes up this seemed to be one thing that Lance wouldn't let go of especially after Hunk found his soulmate Shay.

When he was younger, Keith like many others loved the idea that there was somebody out there destined for you, a person who would always be there for you. The thought comforted him for a time before he decided that soulmates were a stupid idea and that even if he did have one it would be just his luck that he would never find them- not like he was one for romance anyway.

Keith was glad he had a mission so he could get away from Lance and his whining after he had another dream about meeting his soulmate. It was exhausting hearing Lance talk about someone he was likely never going to meet and Keith was at the end of his tether, so being sent on a solo rescue mission was just what he needed to blow off some steam. He was glad that the rebels trusted him to do this. But, he was feeling even more pressure to prove himself to the coalition now Shiro was gone and he had taken up the mantle of the black paladin, leader of Voltron.

It was a simple mission, the rebels had sent one of their operatives undercover on Haggar's ship where they had been gathering intel and now they needed to be extracted before the coalition launched its attack on the ship hoping that they could not only gather more intel from the ship on galra plans but also on Shiro's location.

Hiding the Black lion behind an asteroid near the ship he jetpacked the rest of the way there. He could hear Pidge Talking to him via the comms on where to land and how to get into the ship undetected. Following her directions without a hitch, he quickly found himself inside the galran cruiser making his way towards where the operatives living quarters he put in the door code in that they had supplied the rebels with and was deflated to find nobody in the room. He quickly stepped inside, closing the door when he heard the sound of steps coming his way, deciding it would be better to just stay here until they came back. He tapped his feet on the ground in annoyance wanting to get this done quickly in hopes that they may have intel on Shiro or local prisoner ships at the least. He quickly hid on the wall of the door when he heard someone come up to it, sword drawn in case it wasn't the operative but before he could even see how it was a dagger was being shoved into his neck as he was backed up against the wall, his sword falling to the ground.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my room?” you spoke venom in your voice digging the dagger further into the boy's neck as it struggled to answer

“You're the operative?” Keith questioned before saying your name causing you to lose your hold on the dagger “I’m here to extract you, The rebels sent me” he tried to explain shocked that you had been able to catch him off guard

“That’s not true and I don’t work with the rebels, I work for Haggar” You haven't heard anything from the rebels so this must be a trap

“I don’t have time for this” Keith snapped as he pulled a syringe out of his pocket going to stab you in the hand when a force stopped it from even touching your hand.

You were having a similar predicament as when you tried to cut his hand off with your dagger it instead stopped as if an invisible force was blocking you. The two of you stared at each other in shock clearly knowing what this meant

“I really don’t have time for this either” Keith grabbed your hand and dragged you out of your room once again following Pidge's directions getting out of the ship and into the Black lion with such ease it made him wonder why they didn’t infiltrate bases more often.

The journey back to the castle of lions was awkward, to say the least. After Keith had shown you that you in fact weren't getting kidnapped by a paladin of Voltron it finally hit you what had happened. You couldn't hurt him and he couldn't hurt you- which meant you were soulmates. It was a thought that would have made you excited if you didn't remember his reaction. He clearly didn’t want a soulmate claiming he didn't have the time. Waited all your life to meet your soulmate and they don’t even want you- just your luck you guess.

Princess Allura had graciously decided to host you for a few days as all of the rebels' resources were going towards their invasion of Haggar's ship which meant they wouldn't be able to come and take you back to base for a full debrief straight away much to your annoyance. You would feel bad if your supposed soulmate didn’t want to give you the time of day. Honestly, you just felt sad. All your life is supposed to lead up to finding this one person and that is all you get? Your thoughts were quickly halted by the sounds of voices coming down the corridor

“Why are you acting so angsty Keith, I thought you were over this whole emo boy stuff” you heard unfamiliar voice call out

“Shut up Lance” Keith, you assumed, replied annoyed

“Hey! It’s not my fault you’ve had a stick up your arse since you returned from your little rescue mission” Lance defended “What is she your soulmate or something” he queried in a joking manner somewhat laughing at his own words but his laughter quickly dies down at the lack of response from the other boy “Your joking?” Lance cried out clearly surprised “You're not joking” he quickly realised

“I’m not” is all the other boy said almost as if he still didn’t believe it but as quickly as their voices appeared in the corridor they also left before you could hear anything else.

Just great you thought as you dropped onto the bed deciding to take a nap in hopes it will give you some respite from this hell.

It wasn’t until the second day of your three-day stay that he came up to you, he had clearly sought you out as nobody the whole day had entered the common room and he seemed relieved to see you in the room he quickly sat opposite you but sat in silence as you read another page from a book you had found in your room.

“Can I help you?” you asked as it seemed he was never going to cut to the chase

“Oh- um yes.” he started clearly not accepting you to say anything “I just thought we could talk about-” he began

“Us being soulmates? What is there to talk about, you clearly don't want this,” you responded wanting this awkward conversation to be done already

“It’s not- I mean I guess.” Keith stuttered from the bluntness of your words “I just don’t have the time” he reiterated his earlier words

“Time doesn't stop for anyone, but I get it. It’s a time of war and you're right at the centre of it” is all you said getting up from your seat and leaving the room leaving no room for argument.

On the third day, you were told it was your final, a rebel ship would be coming to pick you up that day. You quickly gathered any belongings you had while thanking Allura for her hospitality it was only when she left you in the hanging dock that Keith came running in

“I was thinking about what you said” He began “It’s not that I don't want this, because I think I do but I also don’t want to put you in danger” he admitted “But I also don’t want you to go and this be it”

“Time isn't going to stop for us” you reminded him

“I know,” he confessed. “That’s why I want to make time for us. If you would like that”

“I would.”

#keith kogane fanfic #keith kogane x reader #keith kogane #keith kogane fic #keith kogane imagine #keith voltron #keith x reader #vld keith #voltron #voltron x reader

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fragmicheinfach111 · 22 days ago

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Genug ist Genug

Teil 2

Ich ging erstmal in die Küche um etwas zu trinken und eine Kleinigkeit zu essen. Dabei sah ich Lisas Handy auf dem Küchentisch. Es muss auf ihn gefallen sein als ich sie mir griff. Glück gehabt. Ich nahm es schaltete es ein. Gesperrt natürlich. Aber kein Problem vor 2 Jahren hatte ich beobachtet wie sie ihren Code eingab. Ich versuchte ihn und hatte Glück. Lisas leben lag jetzt vor mir. (Notiz an mich mein Passwort ändern) Mehrere verpasste Anrufe von Ihrer Freundin Sandra. Unwichtig. Ich schaltete das Handy wieder aus und steckte es in meine Hosentasche. Bei nächster Gelegenheit würde ich es mir ansehen um mehr über Lisa Nein!!! Meine neue Sklavin zu erfahren. Denn wissen ist Macht. Später würde ich dann auch Spyware installieren.

Ich schnappte mir ein paar blaue Müllsäcke und ging nach oben in Lisas Kinderzimmer. Als erstes landeten all ihre Puppen und Kuscheltiere im 1 Sack. Mit einer Ausnahme ihr lieblings Teddy. Ich brachte ihn in mein Zimmer. Dann ihre Poster und Schmink Sachen. Als nächstes Kam ihre Kleiderschränke (2) dran. Es flog erstmal alles raus. Dann begann ich zu sortieren. Ihre Tangas blieben. Auch ihre Strapse und Knie langen Strümpfe. Aber auch ihre kurzen Röcke und weißen Blusen. Der Rest flog raus. Auch alle ihre Schuhe. Als ich fertig war brachte ich alles nach oben, auf den Dachboden. Dann blieb nur noch ihr Bücherregal übrig. Sie liest gern zumindest früher. Horror Krimi und Romanzen Geschichten. Hefte und kleine Bücher. Das Einzige große Buch war Krieg und Frieden. Seltsam das sie sowas auch liest. Ich nahm es um es mir anzusehen. Sie hatte mal erzählt das es ein Geschenk ihrer Oma war. Ich machte es auf und war verblüfft das waren Handschriftliche Notizen. Als ich es mir durchlas erkannte ich das es ein Tagebuch war. Lisas Tagebuch. Ein Schatz. Das Buch brachte ich auch in mein Zimmer ich würde es mir später durchlesen. Danach beendete ich das ausräumen. Selbst das Bett habe ich zerlegt und nach oben gebracht. (Ja ich kann mit einem Akkuschrauber umgehen.) Am Ende war ihre Matratze ein Schreibtisch und ein Stuhl und die leeren Schränke das einzige im Raum.

Als nächstes rief ich eine alte Freundin an die ein online Sexspielzeug Geschäft führt. Wir plauderten kurz bevor ich meine Bestellung aufgab. Viele neue Anziehsachen und Dessous und spezielle Schuhe. Wenn ihr euch fragt woher ich ihre Maße habe, kennt ihr eure Mütter schlecht.

Nachdem ich eine Kleinigkeit gegessen hatte und in der Firma angerufen habe ob alles in Ordnung ist summte Lisas Handy. Es war ein Textnachricht von Ihrer Freundin Jenny. Eine von vielen. Sie fragte wo sie bliebt? Jenny noch so eine Schlampe die sich nicht benehmen kann. Ich schreib ihr zurück das Lisa Stubenarrest und Handy verbot hat. Dann schaltete ich das Handy aus. Ich setzte mich auf die Couch und schaltete den Fernseher an und über Internet schaltete ich meine geheime APP ein und sah Lisa. Sie stöhnte, da wieder kaltes Wasser sie bespritze. Da war sie meine kleine geile und bald willige Sexsklavin. Sie so zu sehen machte mich schon feucht. Ich nahm Lisas Tagebuch und begann zu lesen.

Inzwischen war es 20 Uhr ich habe etwa 3 Stunden gelesen und viel über meine kleine Schlampe erfahren. Lisa war seit 10 Stunden in meinem Kerker. Es wurde Zeit zu ihr zu gehen und mit der Erziehung zu beginnen. Aber erst umziehen. Also Fernseher aus und ab in den Kerker. Unten angekommen ging ich nach hinten rechts neben dem großen Bett. Aus meiner Hosentasche holte ich ein Schlüsselbund hervor und schloss den großen Schrank vor mir auf. Da waren sie meine geliebten Domina Outfits. Lack und Leder. Ich entschied mich für ein schwarzes Corset das meine Brüste betonte einen schwarzen Leder Rock der bis zu den Knien ging. Aber keinen Slip. Dazu schwarze Lack Stiefel die 10 cm über meine Knie gingen und vom Rock verdeckt wurden. Zum Schluss schwarze Lack Handschuhe die ebenfalls 10 cm über meinen Ellenbogen endeten. Ich verschloss meinen Schrank und holte mir meine Peitsche von heute morgen, ich würde sie brauchen. Dann nahm ich mir noch einen kleinen USB Ohrstecker denn ich gleich anlegte. Ich war bereit für Lisa.

Nachdem ich die Automatik ausgeschaltet habe, betrete ich den Raum. Lisa nackter Körper gefehlt mir gut. Ihr Arsch war knall rot und sie trug noch ihre Knie langen Strümpfe. Da der Raum gut temperiert ist zittert sie nicht. 1 Stunde Bestrafung und harter Sex mit 2 Mega Orgasmen plus 9 Stunden nichts tun mit einer Maske auf dem Kopf, in die Kopfhörer eingenäht sind.(und ihr die Regeln einer Sklavin erklären in Dauerschleife ) Und gelegentlich kalten Duschen dürften ihr ganz schön zugesetzt haben. Das sie an einem Kreuz hing ( Arme und Beine gespreizt) und sich nicht viel bewegen konnte war auch nicht gut für sie. Zu ihrem Pech wird hier gemacht was ich will. Und mir gefällt was ich sehe.

Ich schaltete den Ohrhörer an. Sofort verbindet er sich mit dem Rekorder und schaltete auf Standby um. Lisa regt sich. Das aufhören der Absprache der Regeln hat sie also mitbekommen. Das Spiel beginnt. "Hallo kleine Schlampe, wie war dein Tag? Hattest Du auch so viel Spaß wie ich?" Ich bekam nur ein Hmm Hmm. "Ach stimmt ja der Knebel. Möchtest Du das ich ihn heraus nehme?" Sie nickte. Ich nehme ihn ihr ab und werfe ihn in die Ecke in der noch ihre zerschnittenen Sachen liegen. " Danke Mom."

Das war ihr erster Fehler. Zur Strafe bekam sie erstmal einen Schlag mit der Peitsche auf ihren Arsch. Lisa Schrie. Balsam für meine Seele. Ich gebs zu ich bin ein bisschen sadistisch veranlagt. Ein kleines bisschen. "Wie heißt das richtig Schlampe!" Und noch ein Schlag. "Herrin, Herrin, Herrin. Entschuldigung es kommt nicht wieder vor." "Geht doch warum nicht gleich so. Also fangen wir von vorne an."

"Regel 1 lautet?" "Meine Besitzerin ist meine Herrin. Ich habe sie immer und überall mit diesem Titel anzusprechen. HERRIN. " "Sehr gut Schlampe." Zur Belohnung streichelte ich ihren Rücken.

"Regel 2" "Ich bin nichts ich habe nichts meine Herrin gibt mir was ich brauche oder nimmt es mir weg wenn sie es will oder ich es verdient habe." "Gut Schlampe" Zur Belohnung streichelte ich ihre Brüste und spielte mit ihren Nippeln. Lisa stöhnte leise. Ich wette wenn ich ihr in die Pussy fasse wird Sie feucht sein. Wie es sein soll.

"Regel 3" "Es ist mir verboten mich ohne Erlaubnis meiner HERRIN anzufassen oder einen Orgasmus zu haben. Ich muss meine Herrin immer um Erlaubnis bitten ob ich kommen darf. Und mich bei meiner HERRIN danach bedanken das sie mir diesen Orgasmus geschenkt hat." Ich greife ihr in ihre Pussy und werde nicht enttäuscht. Lisa ist bereits feucht. Anstatt sie zu fingern streichelte ich über ihre Schammlippen. Erst die äußeren dann gehe ich tiefer und reibe ihre inneren Lippen. Lisa stöhnt vor Geilheit sie ist wieder kurz davor im siebten Himmel zu sein.

"Regel 4" Flüstere ich leise. "Ich habe unterhalb meiner Augenbrauen rasiert zu sein. IMMER. Es steht meiner Herrin aber zu das zu ändern und mir die Haare ab zu rasieren wenn sie das für richtig hält. (Ihr schönes Haar nein niemals. Aber die Drohung dürfte sie gefügig machen.) Außerdem darf meine Herrin entscheiden ob ich gepierct oder tätowiert werde." Richtig zur Belohnung fingerte ich sie jetzt wieder mit 2 Fingern. Lisa stöhnte immer heftiger, sie würde gleich kommen. Mal sehen ob sie an Regel 3 denkt. Immer schneller gingen meine Finger rein und raus, rein und raus. " Herrin ich komme! Bitte darf ich kommen? BITTE ?" Gute Schlampe sie hatte es nicht vergessen. Schade!!! "Gut meine kleine Schlampe du hast es nicht vergessen." Rein und raus " Ich erlaube dir zu kommen." Und das tat sie genau in diesem Moment. Wieder explodierte meine kleine Schlampe in einem gewaltigen Orgasmus. Ich brachte meine Finger in Sicherheit. Meine Hände gingen wieder nach oben und ich knetete Lisas Brüste und Nippel. Gott ich liebe diese Brüste. Das könnte ich den ganzen Tag tun. Und sie dabei ficken.

Inzwischen war Lisa wieder klar im Kopf. " Da Da Danke He Herrin. Das war so geil." "Brave Sklavinnen werden belohnt. Das sagte ich dir doch." "Ja ich werde alles tun was ihr sagt Herrin aber bitte nicht mehr schlagen. BITTE?" "Das hängt von dir ab, MEINE KLEINE SCHLAMPE. Es wundert mich übrigens. Müsstest Du nicht mal auf die Toilette?" "Ja das muss ich auch dringend. Meine Blase platzt gleich." Ich streichelte ihren Rücken und sagte liebevoll "Dann lass es doch laufen. " "Aber das geht doch nicht. Herrin.""Wieso nicht? Deine Herrin hat dir einen Befehl gegeben. Wieso sollte es nicht gehen den Befehl zu befolgen? Aber wenn Du lieber die Peitsche spüren möchtest, dann lässt sich das einrichten. Aber ich muss dich warnen ich werde solange zuschlagen bis Du pinkelst. Aber wenn ich dich schlage wirst Du dich verkrampfen und dann fließt nichts. Und es könnte 100 Schläge dauern bis Du keine Kraft mehr hast und es von selbst läuft. Willst Du das Kleine Schlampe?" "Nein bitte nicht mehr schlagen ich tue es. Herrin." Nichts geschah. " Ich warte und meine Geduld hat Grenzen das weißt Du doch." Und dann hörte ich Wasser laufen. Und eine gelbe Flüssigkeit floß zum Ausfluss. "Braves Mädchen. Geht doch" Ich ging nach rechts in die Ecke und öffnete eine Klappe die in die Fliesenwand eingebaut war. Dort war auf einem Rad ein Schlauch mit einem Duschkopf aufgewickelt und und eine Badarmatur mit der ich die Wassertemperatur einstellen konnte. 28 grad sollten reichen. Ich schaltete ein, prüfte die Temperatur und begann alles sauber zu machen. Erst die Wand dann den Boden. Lisa seufzte als der warme Strahl sie traf. Nachdem ich fertig war belohnt ich Lisa noch indem ich den Duschkopf an ihre Pussy hielt. Diesmal stöhnte sie leise. Dann schaltete ich ab,räumte alles zurück, verschloss die Klappe und kehrte zu Lisa zurück.

"Dabei fällt mir ein rate doch mal was ich heute gemacht habe während du die Regeln gelernt hast?" "Ich weiß nicht. Mich beobachtet?"

"Nein ich habe dein Zimmer umgeräumt. Und alles unwichtige entfernt." Lisa rührte sich nicht mehr und hörte nur noch zu."Dabei habe ich dein Tagebuch gefunden und den Rest des Tages damit verbracht es zu lesen." "NEIN nicht mein Tagebuch. Das ist meins. Das darf keiner lesen. Gib " Schrie Lisa mich an und zerte an ihren Fesseln. Aber weiter kamm sie nicht. So schnell wie Lisa angefangen hatte zu schreien so schnell hatte ich meine Peitsche zur Hand. Und begann damit auf Lisas Arsch einzuschlagen. 1 mal 2 mal 5 mal. Lisa schrie wie am Spieß aber es war mir egal. Unablässig tanzte meine Peitsche über Lisa Arsch und ließ ihn jetzt wieder leicht blau werden. Nach dem 45 Schlag stoppte ich. Lisa hatte aufgehört zu schreien sie hoffte wohl es war überstanden. Falsch.

Ich ging zu ihr legte meine Hand auf ihren Kopf und drückte ihn nach hinten. "Wie wagst du es mit mir zu sprechen SCHLAMPE. ICH BIN DEINE HERRIN. ICH KANN MIT DIR MACHEN WAS ICH WILL. DU BESITZT NICHTS MEHR. ES GEHÖRT JETZT ALLES MIR." Schrie Ich Lisa an. Durch die Kopfhörer wurde es nochmal verstärkt und bei jedem Wort habe ich ihr mit meiner Hand einen Schlag auf ihren Arsch gegeben. " Entschuldigung Herrin. Aua. Bitte. Aua. Entschuldige. Ahhhhhhh.

"Tu das nie wieder Schlampe oder das nächste mal nehme ich den Rohrstock und stoppe erst wenn wir bei 100 sind." Lisa nickte heftig ihren Kopf in der Hoffnung mich zu besänftigen. "Ja verstanden ich werde es nie wieder tun. Herrin Versprochen Versprochen Versprochen."

"Gut !Besser du machst mich heute nicht mehr wütend, ich weiß nicht was dann geschieht oder ob ich aufhören kann bevor Blut fließt. Und das würde ich gerne vermeiden." "Verstanden, werde ich nicht. Bitte nicht mehr schlagen Herrin. BITTE." Ich war etwas beruhigt. Zur Sicherheit ging ich nah draußen und holte meine Salbe. Lisa brauchte sie dringend. Ihr Arsch brannte vermutlich höllisch. Gut. Besser als wenn sie nichts mehr spürt, dann könnte es gefährlich werden. Ich kehrte zu Lisa zurück und rieb ihr wieder die Salbe auf ihren Arsch. Zuerst wimmerte sie dann wurde sie still. "Wo waren wir stehen geblieben ach ja Tagebuch. Sehr interessant was ich da gelesen habe." Lisa blieb still und schniefte leise. "Mit 16 hatten wir doch diesen Streit wegen deiner 4 in Geschichte. Erinnerst du dich?"Lisa nickte. Das brachte ihr einen Klaps auf ihren Arsch ein. " Sprich gefälligst wenn ich dir eine Frage stelle. " Sagte ich streng. "Ja ich erinnere mich daran. Herrin." "Gut denn in deinem Tagebuch hast du geschrieben, daß nachdem ich dich nach oben geschickt habe und ich dir verboten habe auf die Party zu gehen, dein Vater zu dir kam." "Ja das stimmt er sagte mir das du dich entschieden hättest das ich kein Bauchnabelpiercing bekomme und diskutieren hätte keinen Zweck. Und er könne da nichts machen. Er wird zwar versuchen dich umzustimmen aber das könnte etwas dauern."

Ich griff nach oben und öffnete die Maske. Dann zog ich sie Lisa vom Kopf. Ich griff mit meiner Hand nach ihrem Kinn und drehte es nach rechts. Jetzt musste sie mir direkt in die Augen sehen. "Das ist nie geschehen. Das habe ich nie gesagt." "Aber Dad hat " Weiter kamm sie nicht. Mein Blick sagte ihr besser zu schweigen. " DAS. HABE. ICH. NIE. GESAGT. Sag mir wann in den 6 Jahren die wir uns kennen habe ich dich angelogen. Wann habe ich etwas gesagt und es dann nicht getan?" Lisa war sprachlos, sie konnte darauf nichts erwidern. Ich hatte recht. Ich habe meine Versprechen immer gehalten. Und dann kamen die Tränen. Erst langsam und dann flossen sie in strömen. "Mom bitte entschuldige. Ich habe es ihm geglaubt." "Shh ich bin ja da meine kleine. Und ich werde immer da sein.Hör auf zu weinen. Du bist jetzt bei mir." Ich küste sie auf die Stirn. "Ich werde mich um dich kümmern. Und wir werden viel Spaß zusammen haben." Diesmal küste ich sie auf ihren Mund. Erst zärtlich dann fordernder. Und Lisa ließ es geschehen nein sie wollte es und erwiderte begierig den Kuss.

Dann löste ich mich von ihr und sagte "Ich hatte mich gefreut als du damals zu mir kammst und mich gefragt hast ob du auch ein Piercing haben kannst. Später dachte ich du hättest es dir anders überlegt. Ich hätte es besser wissen müssen. Dein Dad hat uns beide reingelegt. Wollen wir uns an ihm rächen?" "Was hast du vor Mom?" OK Das konnte ich nicht durchgehen lassen. Sie bekam einen leichten Klaps auf ihren Arsch. "Aua" "Wie heißt das kleine?" Sagte ich mit einem Lächeln. Sie lächelte auch,vermutlich weil sie glaubte das ich nicht gleich die Peitsche rausholen würde. "Entschuldigung Herrin. Und danke für die Bestrafung." Gutes Kind. Dafür streichelte ich wieder ihre Pussy. "Nah ich werde aus dir eine willige dauergeile Sklavin machen die alles tut was ich ihr sage. Und ich werde dich piercen und tätowieren. Stellt dir das nur vor wie dein Dad reagiert wenn er das erfährt. Seine geliebte Prinzessin die für mich ihre Beine breit macht." Mein Grinsen hätte jeden Hai neidisch gemacht so breit war es."Tätowieren? Ähm?" "Keine Angst nur ein kleines auf dein linkes Schulterblatt mit meinen Initialen. Damit jeder weiß wem Du gehörst. MIR!" Und wieder küste ich mein Eigentum während ich ihre Pussy streichelte. "Also wirst DU MEINE SKLAVIN SEIN?" Es klang wie eine Frage, war aber eher ein Befehl ja zu sagen. "Ja Mo ich meine Herrin das werde ich. Darf ich einen Wunsch äußern? Herrin. " "Was möchtest du. Sag es mir." Sie senkte ihren Blick und sagte dann leise. "SEX jeden Tag wie du gesagt hast. Bitte. Herrin." Gewonnen. Sie gehörte mir. "Versprochen. Und wir fangen gleich damit an."

Ich öffnete die Klammern und entfernte das Band um Lisa zu befreien. Sie stand etwas wackelig auf den Beinen aber sie konnte alleine gehen. "Komm mit kleine Schlampe." Wir verließen die Dusche und gingen zu den Sesseln. Dort entfernte ich den Gürtel und Rekorder von ihr. Zusammen mit der Maske und dem Knebel die ich mitgenommen hatte legte ich alles auf einen kleinen Tisch neben den Sesseln. Dann ging ich zu einem der Schränke, schloss ihn auf und nahm mir eines der Halsbänder. Dann verschloss ich ihn wieder und kehrte zu Lisa zurück. Ich gab ihn ihr. Sie sah ihn an und dann mich. "Knie dich hin. Halte das Halsband mit beiden Händen ausgestreckt vor mich und sage die Worte BITTE NEHMT DIESES HALSBAND VON MIR UND LEGT ES MIR AN. MACHT MICH BITTE ZU EURER GEHORSAMEN SKLAVIN HERRIN " Lisa sah mich erstaunt an aber ging dann in die Knie, hielt das Halsband hoch und sprach die Worte. Ich nahm das Halsband und legte es ihr um. Es war ein schliechts 5 cm breites Lederband mit einem 3 cm großen Ring daran. Es hatte keine Schnalle wie andere, sondern die die Enden rasteten ineinander ein und verschlossen sich. Der Schlüssel um es zu öffnen war an meinem Schlüsselbund. Noch. Ich werde in bald abmachen und ihn an einer Kette um meinen Hals tragen. "Sehr gut Sklavin. Als letzten Schritt deiner Demut musst du meine Füße küssen. Alle beide." Auch das tat Lisa ohne Wiederworte. Was für eine Brave kleine Schlampe. Zur Belohnung half ich ihr auf und küste sie. Es war ein langer und wilder Kuss." Gut gemacht. Jetzt bist du meine SKLAVIN. MEIN EIGENTUM. Morgen rufe ich meine alte Schulfreundin an und werde einen Termin für deine Piercings und Tattoo machen." Lisa Augen glänzten. "Danke Mom. Ich meinte Herrin." Böses Mädchen zur Strafe schnappte ich mir ihre Nippel mit Daumen und Zeigefinger und drückte zu. Nicht zu fest, aber es tat weh. Lisa wusste sofort warum ich das tat. "Bitte Entschuldigt HERRIN." Ich ließ los den ich hatte andere Pläne.

Ich ging nochmal zu einem der Schränke der unverschlossen war nahm eine Kette und den Strapon von heute morgen heraus und kehrte zu Lisa zurück. Zuerst hakte ich die Kette in das Halsband. Danach führte ich meine neue Sklavin zu dem großen Bett. Es wurde Zeit mein Eigentum in Besitz zu nehmen. Ich plaziert Lisa vor dem Bett. Dann gab ich ihr einen kleinen Schubs und sie viel rücklings aufs Bett. Ihre Beine berührten noch immer den Boden. Wir lächelte beide weil wir es beide wollten. Ich fuhr mit meiner Hand nach unten und hob Lisas rechtes Bein hoch. Dann zog ich ihr den nassen Strumpf aus und warf ihn hinter mich. Danach stellte ich ihn wieder auf den Boden und wiederholte es mit ihrem linken Bein. Lisa sah so schön aus wie sie darauf wartete was als nächstes geschah. Ich zog mich zurück und entledigt mich meiner Sachen. Die Stiefel ließ ich an, die störten mich nicht. "Beine auseinander ich will sehen was mir gehört." Mit einem lüsternem Lächeln spreizte Lisa brave ihre Beine und zeigte mir was von jetzt an mir gehörte."Was für eine Brave Sklavin. Zeit für deine Belohnung." Ich beugte mich zu ihr herunter und begann sie zu küssen wild und fordernd. Währenddessen spielte meine linke Hand mit Lisas Brust. Immer wieder knetete ich sie mal zärtlich mal wild.

Ich beendete den Kuss. Sah Lisa in die Augen und sagte gebieteriesch " Ich will wissen wie du schmeckst süße." Küssend arbeitete ich mich langsam hinunter. Jetzt kniete ich vor Lisa die auf dem Bett lag.Lisa war nass ihre Pussy glänzte. Ich leckte einmal ganz sachte von unten nach oben über ihre Schammlippen. "Jaaa ist das gut" Schrie Lisa. "Bitte nicht aufhören. Weitermachen. " "Das werde ich. Und ich hebe die Regeln für diese Nacht auf. Du darfst so oft kommen wie du willst ohne um Erlaubnis zu fragen." Und so begann ich Lisa ins Nirvana zu lecken. Erst langsam nur mit Zunge. Dann mit 1 später 2 Finger. Ihr Kitzler reagierte besonders stark auf Berührung. Ein Grund warum meine Zungenspitze so oft mit ihm spielte. Lisa kam 2 mal bevor ich mich entschied das es Zeit wurde sie endlich zu ficken. Also stand ich auf und sah zu meiner Sklavin herunter. Lisa war gerade zum 2 mal gekommen und atmete schwer und tief. "Was sagte ich heute morgen noch? Ach ja geh nicht weg ich hole nur schnell meinen Strapon." Lisa sah mich an und begann zu lächeln. Sie wusste genau was jetzt kommt. Der Strapon lag griff bereit auf dem Bett. Ich legte ihn an und ging zu Lisa.

"So Zeit mein Versprechen zu erfüllen dich jeden Tag zu ficken meine kleine Schlampe." "Ja bitte Herrin. Fickt mich." "Rutsch hoch." Nachdem Lisa jetzt komplett auf dem Bett lag stieg ich auf sie. Küsste sie noch mal und plaziert meinen Strapon an ihrer Pussy. Ich stieß noch nicht zu sondern bewegte ihn hoch und runter. Ich wollte Lisa ärgern wollte das sie mich an bettelt zu zu stoßen. Was sie auch tat."Bitte Herrin. Stoßt zu. Bitte fickt mich." "Ich werde dich ficken wenn ich es will SKLAVIN." Und ich stieß zu und wie beim ersten Mal heute morgen glitt der Strapon ohne Gegenwehr in Lisa. Bis zum Anschlag. Lisa stöhnte auf. Das war es was sie wollte. Was sie brauchte. Und ich gab es ihr. Ich zog ihn raus und wieder rein. Das Tempo schien meiner Sklavin zu gefallen. Also erhöhte ich es. Dabei küste ich Lisa immer wieder. Doch ich wollte mehr wollte sehen wie sie unter mir dahin schmolz. Ich erhob mich und kniete jetzt vor Lisa. Der Strapon noch in ihr. In dieser Position fickte ich die kleine Schlampe jetzt und es war geil. Ich hatte die Kontrolle. Ich bestimmte die Geschwindigkeit. Ich fickte sie rein und raus immer wieder und wieder. Wenn ich das Gefühl hatte das Lisa gleich kommen würde verlangsamte ich mein Tempo. Das gefiel ihr nicht aber mir schon. Nach einiger Zeit merkte das es Zeit wurde es zu beenden. Ich spürte das ich bald kommen würde. Also gab ich alles. Lisa stöhnte auf als sie merkte das ich das Tempo noch mal erhöht habe. Mein Puls raste der Schweiß lief mir in Strömen den Rücken hinunter. Langsam machte sich die Erschöpfung in meinem Körper bemerkbar. Ich ignorierte es und fickte dieses herliche Wesen das jetzt mein war. Und dann kamen wir beide. Zuerst Lisa die ihren Orgasmus hinaus schrie und 5 Stöße später ich. Ich schrie zwar nicht aber ein lautes "JAAAAAAA" kam schon über meine Lippen.

Als ich aufblickte sah ich das Lisa Ohnmächtig war. Ich fühlte kurz ihren Puls um sicher zu gehen das sie noch lebte. Die Strapazen des Tages waren zu viel für sie. Ich kletterte vom Bett schnallte den Strapon ab und legte ihn auf das Nachtschränkchen. Ich würde ihn bestimmt morgen brauchen können. Ich holte Handschellen aus dem Schränkchen. Damit fesselte ich Lisa an das Bett. Ihre Arme lagen über ihrem Kopf. Ich zog die Decke unter ihr hervor und deckte sie zu. Dann kletterte ich zu ihr. Sie war total verschwitzt. Ich schob eine Strähne zur Seite und küste sie auf den Mund. "Du bist Mein. Und ich werde dich nie mehr hergeben. Vielleicht mal ausleihen und zusehen wie andere dich ficken. Aber mehr nicht. Schlaf gut Sklavin morgen wird ein anstrengender Tag."

Bevor fragen kommen ja es gibt einen 3 Teil und ich denke über einen 4 nach. Und sollte sich jemand fragen wie die Peitsche mal in Saras Hand sein kann und dann wieder nicht. Ganz einfach. Die Peitsche hat eine Schlaufe und hängt an ihrem Handgelenk.

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rose-l-20 · 4 months ago

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Hello there, I just stumbled onto your page and I was wondering if I could request a Darth Maul x female reader with angst and fluff? Like reader is with the jedi order, but she isn't exactly liked because she has darkness in her but Maul likes her.....or if you have an original plot, go for it, I won't complain.

P.S.-I may come back and request something with Iceman or something from Harry Potter!

Please take me away - Darth Maul x Female!Human!Jedi reader

Hello! Thank you for the request! This idea is perfect for me to write my first Darth Maul Fic! 😫 I’ve always wanted to but never had the courage to do so! Please send any other requests you would like I would love that!

I also loved how you used blue for your writing! It made me read the request in the narrator from the Clone Wars show 😂

I hope you like it!

❤️🖤❤️🖤

SUMMARY: see request above!

WARNINGS: Reader is mistreated, reader is isolated, name calling, general angst, murder, swearing, stalking undertones, reader crying, insomnia, protective Darth Maul, age gap, nicknames, soft Darth maul, general fluff, running away, Jedi becomes Sith, Kyber crystal bleeding ritual. (TW) Unedited!

The sun was covered by clouds, seeping through the main Padawan training room. A lightsaber defense class was currently in session, with a head count of 12 15-16 year old Padawans. Along with a Master Jedi knight, who was teaching them a new range of skills and techniques.

There was a pair, consisting of a 15 year old boy and an equal aged girl. Her name was (y/n). She was known to be “slightly ahead” for her age. She found it easy to learn new skills. Almost like it was already written in her code.

The lesson started with meditation, to get everyone into the right head space. Moving onto an extensive warm up of the body, to ensure a full range of motion. Then the training began!

Each pair went one at a time, so their Master could watch them clearly without distractions. The majority of the pairs had their turn before (y/n) and her partner got to have theirs.

They got into position, ready to spar. The pair waited in idle anticipation for their Master to give the sign to start. Once hearing a “GO!” Blue crashed against green. The light crackles of contact, the hum of movement, and the children’s focused grunts were the only thing to be heard. The boy pushed (y/n) against the wall with the force, causing her to get frustrated as she knew she was years ahead of him. The sparing match went on, it looked like watching a dance routine.

The final straw for the young woman was the boys foot making contact with her chest, and shoving her to the ground. With a loud scream she used the force to pull herself up and started violently thrashing her saber against his, leaving him little to no time to strategies. She let out grunts and screams. “I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU”, the words flew from her mouth and echoed in the large room.

The boy had slipped and fell hard on the ground. He was frightened to say the least, his saber was the only thing protecting him from being sliced apart. He called out to their master “HELP ME! SHE IS GOING TO KILL ME!”. With that their Master used the force to retract the girls lightsaber, which lead her to look at him with furious eyes. Before she could make another sound, she was put to sleep.

———

Since that day you never got along with anyone. Some people were wary of you and always tried to avoid you, while others were cruel to you. But one thing both groups had in common, was calling you horrible names. You were bounced around to different Masters, some just gave orders and ignored, some would insult you and make your life a living hell. You suffered in more ways than one. You were always stressed, never sleeping well, constantly being tired leading to you being an anxious woman. The topic of being kicked out was a reoccurring conversation, which lead to anxiety attacks. You could never catch a break mentally.

Walking through the halls of the order felt like being an easy target. You constantly heard whispers and people would shout at you. “Freak”, “Sith spy”, “future murderer”, “red eyes”, “piece of shit”, “waste of space”, “I bet your parents were bad people, and wanted nothing to do with a child like you!” And so much more.

Their were many missions were you would be called a few names, and insults. But one mission stuck out from the rest. You were told to stay back after the night watch debrief, which you knew wasn’t to praise you on your efforts.

You were 18 at the time, and 2 years from knighthood. The leading Jedi knight who gave the debrief, got right up into your face and verbal attacked you. The sun was setting behind him, making the hood he was wearing cast a shadow over his eyes. He was intimidating both in general and in this moment.

“(Y/n), you worthless waste of resources. If you make even one mistake or fault…I will get you kicked out. Am I fucking understood?” He gritted out with his teeth. You nodded with a “yes Master”, he shoved your shoulder and walked off. Your whole body shrunk into itself as you whispered “don’t cry” repeatedly.

———

As you were gathering yourself, a certain Dathomirian Zabrak was watching on. He was there to seek out information on the Jedi. Amber eyes were fixated upon their first glance at you, and his body froze. Seeing your Master lash out at you stopped him in his tracks. He heard what he needed to, ready to move on when he heard your name being called. The sound alone stopped him. When the senior Jedi threatened you, his body tensed. He didn’t know why, but it was like a hidden instinct had kicked in.

He saw you take a deep breath, ground yourself and walk off to your night watch route. You walked around the south west side of the building, starting to scope out the terrain. His body followed yours like a curious cat, walking slowly and steadily. His eyes scan over your body, learning every inch, while his fingers itched for the blood of the master who treated you like shit.

His mind was all over the place, and he struggled to make sense of it. Why was he following this young woman, while he was trying to get a job done. You felt his strong force signature, and ignited your blue saber. Your eyes darting in different directions, the man skilled in force distribution. Your body was on fire with a concoction of anticipation and adrenaline, using all the energy you could on finding the being who was a potential threat to the order.

After 10 minutes the signature was gone, and so was your energy. You walked back to your wall position and slouched against it, fingers rubbing your eyes as a new ache came from your temples. “Fucking hell, they’re now messing with my night duties. How low can they get?”

The black and red patterned man left on his ship with new information and some…conflicting emotions.

———

A year and 10 months passed and your life was bizarre to say the least. The mistreatment, name calling and isolation was still the same to your disappointment. But your sleep quality was heavily improved, your body felt better rested, and your anxiety has gone down significantly. The only side effect was weird dreams.

Across the span of this time the man had gone through a handful of months of trying to shove you from his mind, you were like a plague. He also thought of the most brutal of deaths for the master who insulted you. He got so annoyed with his mind he requested to be in a new area of the galaxy to not be able to even feel your presence…it didn’t help a single bit.

5-6 months into the year he had started accepting the emotions, and decided to watch over you. He wasn’t happy about the Jedi order’s behavior towards you. He was ready to kill every person who looked disgusted or said anything about you. He watched over you as you cussed, and cried for an ounce of a nice nights sleep, so he used his powers to lull your mind into restful, sweet, blissful sleep. The next morning your body felt like it was on a fluffy cloud. Your eyes welled up with tears of relief, and joy as you had enough energy to put in a little more effort in your appearance. Hair tied up in a proper style instead of a messy ponytail, uniform clean, and a smile rested on your slightly red, bitten lips.

The joy was only short as you were sent on a 2 month mission a few weeks later, and your sleep got worse again. This caused the multiple horned man couldn’t find you. But don’t worry he is a very determined person, and found you within a week.

At that point, your anxiety and stress had sky rocketed. Your usual bullying had gotten worse, because you didn’t make it to base camp at the allocated time. Leading to your masters to yell at you, give you inventory to sort, and you couldn’t rest until it was complete. Half way through you felt the familiar force signature from the first night. A smooth, yet gravelly voice made you jump while instinctually igniting your lightsaber.

“You shouldn’t have to endure the torment they put upon your heart and mind” the voice spoke, while coming out of the shadows. Confusion etched its way onto your face. You could tell the hooded man was no good, a Sith Lord most likely but you didn’t try to alert any one of his intrusion. His words seeped into your mind like sand between one’s toes. Repeating over and over.

“What is your business here?!” You got into your fighting stance, trying not to question his words and protect your camp. If you save them from this guy you could finally be liked! He rolled his eyes, using his ability with the force to seep into your thoughts. “You know they’ll find something wrong, even if you succeed in taking me out Darling”

Your figure slightly slumped over as his eyes held the truth. His hand reached and snatched your Saber from your hand, retracting the beam and placing it on your belt. Your confusion amplified at his actions. “What? W-why are you even telling me this?”

“Because Darling” he walked up to you, stopping just a foot from your body. You could see the details of his face, the red more clear in contrast to the black. “You know I’m right”. Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach, you did, you knew he was right.

———

From that day he showed up randomly, sometimes when you expected it, and sometimes you had to aggressively push him behind a wall and whisper “are you nuts?!”. He would smirk and shrug, walking off. You’d roll your pretty eyes and follow.

You stayed in the order, but found your comfort and peace in the man who went by “Maul”. It took a while for you to believe he wasn’t lying about a few things about himself, but once a foundation of trust was made you hung onto his every word.

You of course went through the usual phases. “What do you want?”, To “you again?”, To “stalker much?”, To “oh thank kriff you’re here!”. You guys maintained a great friendship. You had inside jokes, comfort between one another, learnt every little thing about each other, and so much more. The friendship lasted 4 years, until the following year (when you turned 25) you both felt a shift in the atmosphere. Catching each other’s eyes at random moments, longer silences and more tactile interactions.

However your workplace never got better, Maul would be there to support you through the worst days. The first time you both initiated a hug was when you were having a mental breakdown, and just a simple hand on your back didn’t help he pulled you tight, and close to his chest. You froze immediately upon impact, shocked but still in the middle of a mental breakdown you continued to get all of your feelings out in the crook of his neck. From there you both were comfortable in each other’s arms.

The 5th year, as the aura of your friendship was in its transformation you were struck with another breakdown. You flung yourself off your bed, the tie of your pajamas becoming loose as you ran into the woods. The fabric lowed over your shoulder as your eyes frantically looking for your confidant. You knew not to call out his name, they, the Jedi, will find you and punish you. Or worse, kill him. So your body fell to the ground trying to breathe through the pain.

The crunch of his boots against grass had you looking up at his worry stricken face. He reached for you as you blabbered through sobs “please…take m-me…away from here!" he held you and fixed your pajamas. Once you settled into his embrace he lifted your face by your chin, looking for any hesitations. Once certain he took his cloak off and placed it onto your frame. “Ok Darling, let’s go”

———

You got yourself familiar with your new home, which was his chambers on the planet of Mustafar across the span of 4 days. “How are you feeling darling?” His voice sounded so sweet in your ears. Your mind was finally at ease being off that planet. Your stress and anxiety felt like a distant memory already. You got up from his surprisingly comfortable bed while grabbing his outstretched hand. “Better, much better Maul”. He pulls you to his meditation room which was attached to his chambers. “This is where I would seep into your mind to bring you restful sleep”.

“I knew it was you after a while, the pieces of the puzzle came together on their own.” You smiled up at him. He reciprocated with his own smile. Maul used the force to pick up your lightsaber off your night table. “Are you ready and are you sure?” He held your chin again. “Yes”. With the force Maul opened your saber, to retrieve the Kyber crystal, placing it onto the ground you sat cross legged.

“Now, focus all of your energy on the sadness, all of your anger, all of your frustration, all of your pain into a ball. With that ball, force it into your crystal.” He instructed, and you followed suit. The blue of your saber fought against the red hue that was being emitted from your very soul. It wasn’t strong enough, compared to how you felt about those who put you through the worst years of your life. “Concentrate” he kept you grounded. Maul could sense your mind wandering.

The crackling had stopped, and the Kyber crystal was bled. You pulled it to your hand with haste, opening your eyes to look at it. A smirk stretched across your lips. Getting up you walked towards the man who you owed your freedom to, looking into his eyes he noticed the rings of orange and red in replacement to your (e/c).

“I love you Maul, I think I always have” your face came close to his, seeking the same emotion in his gaze. There was a moment of quiet, before his lips made contact with yours. The kiss was soft, tender and warm. With undertones of sickening revenge on his end. Maul pulled away, smiling down at your flushed face.

“I’ve always loved you too, my love”.

———

After a while of Maul teaching you new lightsaber tricks, force abilities that were forbidden by the Jedi code. All the while being the best lover the galaxy ever saw. He gifted you all the necessary things you had left behind, exotic flowers from planets he frequented and took the utmost care of you.

Your training had come to fruition, and your lover had approved you to come with him to fight. You grabbed your bag as you went to his ship, you got on board. As you walked up the ramp you saw Maul sitting in the cockpit. You placed yourself in his lap, folding your legs over each other. He kissed your lips as he took off.

On the way to your destination you had your regular conversations, and sat in comfortable silence. Maul never explained where you were going, but your gut told you that you already knew. Opening your bag you got your device, and when through some information with your lover. This consisted of notes from training, and important information from different groups of people he worked with. Half the time he got lost in your voice and had to get you to repeat yourself. “You are Darth Maul and you’re getting distracted? If the Jedi could see you now!” You laughed

“Of course I’m distracted love, have you seen yourself?” He rubbed your arm gently and held your gaze, which will never not make you blush deep red. “Shut the fuck up” you mumbled under your breath. His throat vibrated with a deep, amused laugh. Kissing your neck as he put the ship into hyperspace. His arm snaked around your waist to keep you from flinging forward, not letting go. This didn’t help your blush in any way.

You had landed at your destination, you were super excited to finally use your new skills and knowledge. Getting up from Maul’s lap, you put your cloak on and made sure your lightsaber was secured to your belt. Maul’s larger hands placed the hood over your head, casting a menacing shadow. “Ready, Darling?” His knuckles caressed your face and with a simple “Yes Master” you followed him out of the ships door.

The gravel beneath your boots was satisfying to your ears, as you approached a Jedi bass camp. Déjà vu hitting you hard, making your body burn with anger. Maul could sense it and refocused your mind, “stay focused Darth (y/n/n)”. Your response was a sharp nod with a small grunt. As you followed him you sensed force users. their signatures leaving a sour taste in the back of your throat. The camp was small, only housing 10 Jedi minimum.

"Wait here my love, you'll know when to come out" he placed a rough kiss to your lips, which you matched perfectly. You stayed behind the stones which hid the camp, choosing to lean against one that was nicely shaded. In your waiting time you practiced your breathing and preformed a brief meditation ritual, connecting to all the Sith Lords and Ladies that came before.

Maul walked up to the Jedi Knights, who were talking strategy around a table. some sitting, some standing and some lying down on the dirt. Their discussion came to a stop as they felt the aura of a threat. All of them got into formation, ready for anything.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen... If you could even call your selves that." his hands reached for the hood of his cloak, and elegantly placed it on his neck. His eyebrows lowered as he recognized all of your main bullies. His anger rising as he remembered all of your anguish and suffering. One, the worst of them all had the gall to speak. "What is the meaning of your intrusion, Darth Maul?" This caused a sinical laugh to come from the depths of his soul.

"Darling! come!" his voiced rasped. You smirked as you started walking, head down facing the dirt ground. Each step you took was an ego boost, while making you feel giddy for your plans to take shape. "The "meaning of my intrusion" is her"

Your steps came to a stop on the right side of his body, your black cloak twirling in the wind. The air became suffocating as your advanced force signature took over the atmosphere. "would you be so kind to introduce yourself my love?"

Raising your head, lowering your hood from your head you made eye contact with the Jedi. Their mouths become agape, shock etched onto their faces within seconds. "(y-y/n)?"

"You thought I was weak, but now I’m back to show you the true meaning of power. Let’s see how you handle the darkness you created."

With that the sound of 3 lightsabers were ignited and blood finally shed.

--------------------------

DONE! I hope you enjoyed it! It's not my best work, but if you feel otherwise then that is great!😂 For both my own indulgence, and research I went to TikTok to watch edits/clips to get a good look into the way his character is written in the movies. I hope I did him justice, and i conveyed what you envisioned! My years of developed creative writing skills finally kicked in a little over half way when i was writing! I'll edit it at some point, but for now I just want it posted. -L🤍

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