#finally got the strength to draw at my desk again!

[pleasantbirdsand]

Come on in, the water's fine

Happy July to @haunted-planes's one friendly boat and no horrors!

[7s3ven]

SHORT STRAW. human! miles quaritch

IN WHICH… miles quaritch needs a scientist on his team, and you just had to draw the short straw.

Notes: scientist/doctor! reader, petnames, inappropriate jokes, age gap (not explicitly stated, but it is there),

—

As a kid, you were always quiet and introverted. As a teenager, you rarely spoke. Now, as an adult, you were on the most dangerous planet, working as a scientist despite having a medical degree. You weren’t even sure how you got on Pandora. All you did was get outstanding grades, win some awards, and then the RDA shipped you off. It’s not like you were complaining, you had nothing left on Earth.

Pandora was your home now and little by little, you grew comfortable with the new environment. You were working along Grace Augustine, a renowned scientist. And you were finally happy with where you were in life.

“Those idiots!” You heard Grace yell as she slammed her cup of coffee onto the table, accidentally spilling the hot liquid onto her latest report. She screamed out a string of curse words, causing every head to turn in her direction. "I need a damn cigarette!"

You hurried over with a pack, handing it over to Grace. "What's wrong?" You asked, furrowing your brows together lightly. You didn't have to question it too much to know what was running through Grace's head. You knew, based on the frown and sneer pulling at her lips, that it had something to do with Parker Selfridge or Quaritch. Maybe even both, with the way her eye was twitching in annoyance.

"Quaritch, that bastard!" She exclaimed, throwing a rage fit. "He wants a scientist on his team for today, even though I offered before, and he said no!" Grace clicked her tongue, banging a hand down onto her desk.

No scientist would willingly work for Quarditch, and Grace knew that. That's how you ended up in the conference room with about ten other scientists who doubled as doctors, Miles Quaritch, and Lyle Wainfleet.

You stood close to Grace, almost hiding behind her. The Colonel had always intimidated you; he towered over you, and you were rather scared of his strength. You had seen him punch another marine, sending the soldier flying back. So, it was safe to say you wanted to stay on his good side.

"Alright, everybody, grab a straw," Grace muttered. Some of the other scientists groaned, tilting their heads back in frustration. Drawing straws was the usual method the scientists used to decide who would write the next report or who would have to chug the year-old alcohol sitting in the cupboard.

"That's how you're gonna decide my team's scientist?" Quaritch grumbled, clearly unimpressed by the childish method. Grace merely rolled her eyes. "Just assign me your best one. Or better yet, assign me the prettiest one." He pointed right at you, lips curling into a snarky smirk.

Grace held out an arm, "She is my best scientist."

Quaritch shrugged, "That's a bonus."

Grace ignored him, holding out a handful of straws. Quaritch watched as each person picked a straw, their gazes darting around nervously and hoping they weren't the unlucky person. "Okay. Hold 'em up." Grace muttered. There was a moment of silence before her eyes flickered to you in pity. "Y/N got the shortest."

"Well, lookie here, I won." Quaritch didn't even try to hide the grin on his face, mocking Grace.

She scowled, pointing the middle finger at the marine. "You better keep her in one piece, you dog. I need her to finish writing her thesis."

"Yeah, I'll keep your pretty little scientist safe." He uttered as he walked around the table, stopping in front of you. "In the meantime, get that damn report on my desk before Selfridge has a fit again." Quaritch hooked a finger around your belt, pulling you forward. "Let's go, Wainfleet."

You barely had time to process the situation before Quaritch’s firm grip on your belt yanked you forward again, pulling you into unified steps with him. You struggled to keep up with his long strides, feeling the stares of your coworkers burning into your back.

As you walked, more like jogged, you could feel the intimidating presence of Lyle trailing behind you. He didn’t say a word, but you knew he was watching your every move. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, the cold, metallic walls making you feel claustrophobic.

Quaritch finally broke the silence, his voice gruff but not as harsh as you expected. "Listen up, Doc. I don't need a nervous wreck on my team. You’re here to get the job done, not to cower in the corner. You got that?" He poked your shoulder, and you quickly nodded.

“Good,” He continued, his pace not slowing as he spoke. “My team and I need someone who can act as a scientist and a doctor. We're lucky we got stuck with you." You heard a loud click beside you, and you turned your head to see Lyle grinning at you. He was replacing the bullets in his gun as a means to scare you even more. "We’re going into the forest, and I, more like Selfridge, need you to analyze some samples. Think you can do that, pretty?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady as you responded. "Yes, sir. I can do that." You kept your gaze lowered.

Quaritch glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. “Good. Keep up that attitude, and you might just survive this.”

You didn’t know whether to be reassured or terrified by his words. You knew that Pandora was dangerous—more dangerous than you ever imagined when you first arrived. The creatures, the environment, and even the air could kill you if you weren’t cautious. You had never actually left the science base before, and now you were being dragged out against your will by a team that seemed to care more about their mission than your life.

As you reached the armoury, Quaritch stopped and turned to face you, his gaze piercing. “Suit up. We leave in ten.”

You nodded again, quickly moving to gather the gear you needed. Your hands trembled slightly as you secured your equipment, the heavy weight pressing you down. You had always been comfortable in the lab, surrounded by data and experiments. This was entirely different—this was survival.

Lyle handed you a weapon, and you hesitated for a moment before grasping it. You weren’t used to holding one, and the cold metal felt foreign in your hands. “Better learn to use that fast,” He said, patting your shoulder. “You’ll need it out there.”

You barely had time to attach the last handgun to your hip before Quaritch approached you again. "You ready, pretty?" He grinned down, hands resting on his hips. Without another word, he turned and led the way towards the rest of the marine team.

They lifted their heads, raising their eyebrows. "Who's that?" One of the only female members questioned, pointing at you.

"Our little scientist." The Colonel uttered, slinging an arm around your shoulder, "Play nice with her. She’s never been outside before.”

The team gazed at you, looking you up and down with a mix of curiosity and amusement at your height compared to Quaritch. Their eyes soon flickered to Quaritch's arm that was draped around you.

"New meat? The forest will eat her alive." The same female marine, Z-dog, smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

You heard Quaritch chuckle and felt his grip tighten around you as an act of reassurance. Or perhaps it was to keep you from running. "She’ll be fine. I’ll ensure she knows how to use more than just her brains out here."

Lyle, leaning casually against a nearby chair, grinned as he chimed in. "Oh, I bet you will, Colonel." There was a grin spreading across his face. "You always did have a soft spot for the smart ones. Just don’t get too distracted."

The team laughed, their voices rough and playful. Quaritch rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to deny it. "Don’t worry, Wainfleet. I can multitask. Besides, if you’re so concerned, why don’t you take her under your wing? Show her how the big boys play."

Lyle gave you an exaggerated once-over, his grin widening. "I dunno, boss. She might be too delicate for me. I wouldn’t want to break her."

Z-dog snorted. "Please. You’d be lucky if she didn’t break you first, Wainfleet. Don’t underestimate the quiet ones—they’ve got a lot of pent-up energy."

Quaritch raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. "You heard the lady, Wainfleet. Better watch yourself. Might just find out what this one’s capable of." He slapped you on the back.

You couldn’t help but blush at the teasing, not accustomed to it. Your science and medical coworkers never mocked each other; they were far too lost in their own worlds.

Another marine piped up with a grin. "Hey, just make sure you keep her out of trouble, Colonel. The last thing we need is her getting lost out here and us having to play rescue squad. Unless, of course, you’d enjoy being her knight in shining armour."

Quaritch huffed, giving his teammate a mocking glare. "I’m nobody’s damn knight. And she won’t need rescuing. Right, Doc?" He nudged you.

You nodded quickly, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "Right."

"Atta girl," Quaritch said with a grin. He gave your shoulder a light pat before stepping away, his authoritative tone taking over again. "Alright, enough with the jokes. We’ve got work to do."

The thick vegetation continuously slapped your oxygen mask, causing you to stumble every second. The suffocating air clung to you as you slowly trudged after the marine team. You noticed how Quaritch, who was at the front of the pack, would glance over his shoulder at you. You could tell in his gaze that he saw you as a liability.

After what felt like an hour of jogging through the forest, Quaritch abruptly stopped, raising a hand to signal to the others. The soldiers halted with practised ease. You, on the other hand, clumsily crashed into Lyle.

"Alright, Doc," Quaritch grunted, turning to face you. "Before we go any deeper, we need to ensure you know how to handle yourself. No point in lugging around dead weight."

You felt a lump form in your throat as he stepped closer, his tall figure casting a shadow over you. He gestured to the weapon slung over your back. "First lesson: how to use that thing. Have you ever fired a gun before? Or, are you more of a delicate touch type?"

Despite being covered from head to toe in weapons you had never held before, you knew you still looked out of place amongst the hardened soldiers surrounding you.

You shook your head quickly, trying not to let Quaritch's words fluster you. "No, sir. Never."

Quaritch smirked, clearly expecting your answer. "Figures. Well, you’re gonna learn fast." He grabbed your belt loop again, leading you a few steps away from the group. "See that tree? That’s your target."

"Hey, Colonel," Lyle called out, “Didn’t know you were into giving private lessons. Thought you left the hand-holding to Grace."

The other marines chuckled, their laughter low and suggestive. "Careful, boss," Another of them exclaimed. "You might have to be gentle with this one. Don’t want to scare her off."

Quaritch rolled his eyes, but the smirk never left his face. "Don’t worry, boys. I’ll go nice and slow for her. Gotta make sure she enjoys her first time, right?"

You blushed, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the suggestive jokes being tossed around. Quaritch stepped closer, grabbing your gun and handing it to you. Quaritch moved to stand behind you, his hands settling over yours on the rifle to line up the weapon with the tree.

"Feet shoulder-width apart. Don’t lean too far forward, unless you want to kiss the dirt.” Quaritch grabbed your hips, pulling you back. What must have been an insignificant touch to him felt huge for you. You had never let anyone touch you in that way, too busy with your academics. “Keep your grip tight; You’re aiming a gun, not giving it a massage."

Behind you, Lyle couldn’t resist another remark. "Hey, Colonel, careful where you’re putting those hands. Might give her the wrong idea."

Quaritch shot him a sideways glance, his smirk turning into a full grin. "Jealous, Wainfleet? Don’t worry, I’ll let you hold her hand next."

Behind you, the marines barely held back their laughter as they leaned against the nearby trees. "Colonel, you gonna take her to prom next?" Z-dog teased, earning another round of chuckles.

Quaritch laughed lowly before returning to you to whisper the instructions in your ear. You took a shaky breath, nodding your head to his words. You shifted from side to side, steadying yourself before you squeezed the trigger.

The rifle's recoil almost knocked you off your feet. Lucky for you, Quarditch was there to catch you.

"Oh, Colonel's getting handsy," Lyle exclaimed. The bullet you had shot grazed the side of the tree trunk, missing the target.

Z-dog laughed. “Maybe you should teach her to aim at something a little closer, Colonel. Like you."

Quaritch didn’t miss a beat. "She doesn’t need to aim at me—she’s already got me in her sights." He loudly clapped his hands together, gaining your attention again. "This time, don’t overthink it. Just line it up and shoot."

You nodded, focusing on the tree once more. This time, you steadied yourself better, and your muscles started to faintly remember the movements.

Quaritch gave a grunt of approval at your second attempt. "Better. Keep at it. You’ll get there."

You practised under Quaritch’s watchful eye for the next hour, gradually getting more comfortable with holding the rifle. The marines kept up their teasing, mainly aimed at their boss and how he was eying you like a hawk.

"Not bad, pretty," Quaritch finally muttered, his usual hardened gaze softening just a bit. "Maybe you won’t get us killed after all." He turned to the Marines, clearing his throat. "Let's move out."

The next time the group stopped was in a secluded part of the forest deep inside the jungle. Your gaze studied the trees and plants around you.

“This is it, Doc. Get to work.” Quaritch handed you the rest of your tools. Lyle sat down on a rock, fidgeting with his gun.

At first, you were so focused on collecting samples that you didn’t notice the eyes following your every movement. You could hear the quiet shuffling of Quaritch, Lyle, and the other marines as they spread out to keep guard. They continued with their teasing banter to pass the time.

As you crouched down to get a better look at some glowing moss, you could feel Quaritch’s gaze on you—intense, and not exactly subtle. The other marines noticed too. His eyes trailed over you, lingering on your body.

You tried to avoid talking to the soldiers as best as you could, desperate to return to the lab so you could study your samples. That was your definition of fun.

Your silence was interrupted by Lyle crouching down beside you. “Careful with those flowers, Doc. They look like they bite.” You glanced at the cluster of spiky flowers, shrugging.

“They don’t.” You quietly murmured.

“Well, if they do, I bet I could beat them.”

Quaritch, overhearing Lyle’s nonsense, shook his head. “That’s ironic, Wainfleet, considering you’ve lost every fight against me.”

“Yeah but you ain’t a flower, Colonel.”

Quaritch sly grinned before looking at you. “You sure you don’t need any help, pretty?” You quickly shook your head in response. The last thing you needed was a soldier ruining your research.

“Watch out for the Colonel’s ‘help.’ He’s got a way of making it sound real nice, but before you know it, you’re running laps around the base at 0500." Lyle pitched in.

Quaritch rolled his eyes, standing up and slapping Lyle on the back of the head. “Thats only if you keep running your mouth, Wainfleet. Which reminds me, you still owe me ten laps from yesterday. You can start now.” With a groan, Lyle stood up, leaving your side to run his dreaded laps.

You were pleasantly surprised that you had not tripped yet. You were naturally clumsy, always managing to make a mess out of the simplest of tasks. You walked forward to look at another flower but a vine that was hidden within the foliage caught you off guard.

You tripped and fell with a large thud, catching the attention of everyone nearby. Quaritch walked over to help you but not before laughing. “Careful.” He teasingly warned. The Colonel made no attempts in hiding how he eyed your body up and down. “You gotta watch where you step. Though, I gotta say, I don’t mind the view.”

You quickly scrambled to your feet, cheeks heating up. Lyle, who had been watching intently, snickered. “You sure you’re just out here for the plants, sir? No other reason?”

You were ready to head back for the day before a plant in the distance caught your attention. “I’ll be quick.” You muttered to Quaritch, hoping he’d let you look at it. He nodded after a long pause.

“I’ll go with her. The rest of you, stay here.” He ordered his soldiers before following after you. You had a skip in your step as you carefully manoeuvred through the maze of tree roots but you were soon too distracted to keep up the pace. Quaritch easily overtook you as you scribbled messy notes into a small notebook.

You were almost at the plant before you slipped again. You mentally cursed at your clumsiness and inability to stay focused of your surroundings. You couldn’t catch yourself in time before stumbling into Quaritch. The impact was enough to send him forward but he quickly turned so his back would take the brunt of the fall. You landed on top of him with a soft grunt, hitting your head on his shoulder.

You took a few moments to regain your breath before you felt Quaritch’s hands rest on your hips. “If you wanted to lie on top of me, pretty, you could have just said so.” He teased. “I always knew you scientists had a habit of being direct but this is a little much, don’t you think?”

You quickly pushed yourself up. “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to!” This was the loudest Quaritch had ever heard you talk. He could barely hear your whispers sometimes, having to lean down to understand your words.

“I ain’t complaining but unless you’re into dangerous places, you might wanna save this stuff for when we’re not in the middle of an alien jungle.” He drawled, causing your body to heat up with embarrassment. He didn’t let you stand up, wanting to see how much of a reaction he could draw out.

Lyle peaked his head around a bush, having heard the sound of you falling. “Are you guys gonna keep us waiting for long while you deal with all that tension? Because I have some coffee I’d really like to drink back at the base.”

“Calm your horses, Wainfleet. We’ll be there in a second.” Quaritch responded, letting you go like he hadn’t purposefully held you down.

In the end, you got the plant and you returned to the base safe and sound. You had expected the Colonel’s attention to be a one time thing but he followed you into the lab.

Grace arched an eyebrow at his appearance. “Here she is, Augustine, safe and sound like I promised.” Quaritch grinned, patting you on the shoulder. “The next time I need a scientist, I want her.” You were already scrambling towards your workspace, laying out your samples.

Quaritch turned to leave but he flashed you another grin. “See you later, pretty.” He called out.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 12

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 5,700

Tags/Warnings: Violence and peril, angst central, a touch of PTSD, and a surprise ending… 

Part 12: All Your Wicked Ways

Something was wrong. 

It was a gut instinct, but yours was far too often right. 

Ben had been sleeping for a long time. After he’d fallen asleep yesterday, you did shortly after from the combination of fatigue, pain from your broken ribs, and the painkillers in your system. 

But even after your keepers had woken you with a tray of food, Ben still hadn’t woken up.

“Ben?” you tried calling to him, but he didn’t rouse from where he laid in his cot, one arm pillowed behind his head and the other across his stomach.

You got up, your pain making you slow as you made sounds of struggle. 

You went to the large window and supported yourself with your hands on the glass. You called his name again, louder.

His face scrunched a little, but your voice couldn’t penetrate the Novichok haze—the poison being pumped into his cell to dull his senses and keep him too drowsy to function.

You paused as you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. It turned out to be several, in fact, as a team of Vought security guards came to your cell. 

“What’s going on?” you asked. No one answered you as they grabbed and handcuffed you with your arms in front of you. You struggled, but you didn’t have the strength or energy to give much of a fight. 

They wheeled in what looked like a large metal casket. You had only seen one of these in pictures, but it had to be a cryochamber. 

A doctor in her mid-fifties accompanied them, giving directions on how to safely enter Ben’s cell. Your eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted. Panic trilled down your spine as the guards fitted themselves with special suits and gas masks. The doctor turned toward you as the guards led you out of your cell and into the hall.

“You’re being transported,” she informed you. 

“Where?”

“To a lab with better security.”

“Why? Where’s my father? I know that bastard’s still alive,” you demanded, but it seemed you weren’t interesting enough for the doctor. 

You spied her last name, Baker, embroidered above the breast pocket her lab coat. You finally recognized Dr. Tonya Baker; you hadn’t worked with her much during your time at Vought, but you knew her by reputation.

Your heart fell into your stomach. 

You struggled against the stern grip of the guard holding you and shouted, “Ben, wake up!”

Between your voice and the commotion outside his door, he started to rouse.

“Get her out of here,” said Dr. Baker. 

Your guards tried to drag you, but you dug your heels in and made it as difficult as possible. Meanwhile, Ben could hear you—when you called his name and now, while you were struggling. He finally drew enough energy and strength to open his eyes and sit up in the cot. 

Once he saw you being manhandled against your will, his fury sparked. 

“Hey!” he barked. He managed to rise off his cot and draw himself to his feet. The first door of his cell slid open for the guards in their hazmat suits. Once that closed, the second one disengaged, and they came pouring in. 

Ben fought them. He managed to punch the first one into the far wall, shaking the fortified glass. He snapped the second man’s neck and broke a leg on the third, but they just kept coming in batches of three or four. The room was misty as hell, slowing Ben’s stamina, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. 

Their strength was in numbers, and gradually, they were able to latch onto his arms, kick behind his knees to bring him down to the ground.

He saw the mask coming towards his face, and the well of panic, hearing your distressed yelling of his name—it gave him the strength to break the chain of men holding him down. 

That’s when he noticed the star bolts zipping outside his cell. 

You were still fighting against the guard’s hold. You ripped back his sleeve and bit into the man’s wrist, eliciting a yell of pain. His grip eased up enough for you to steal his secondary gun on his belt, and despite your cuffed wrists, you shot him in the leg twice to bring him down. 

You raised the gun at your next attacker—Frenchie, who raised up his hands in friendly surrender. 

“Cherie! It’s surprising to see you alive,” he said. You grinned.

“A good surprise?” you asked, and you shot another guard approaching from behind him. 

Frenchie flinched slightly, but after he watched the man fall to the ground, screaming and clutching between his legs, Frenchie’s lips raised in a more genuine smile. 

“Yes, I think so,” he teased. 

You looked past him and watched as Kimiko, M.M., Annie, Hughie, and Butcher took out the rest of the guards. You didn’t see Dr. Baker anywhere; in all likelihood, she’d fled the scene when she saw her opportunity. 

Ben still remained in his cell, and you went to the glass window. He looked all right as he met your gaze, but there were about ten bodies lying around him. His face was firm and assessing. Still, you read the uncertainty behind it.  

You sighed and turned to your team. “Hey, guys. Good to see you.”

Annie went to you first, grasping your shoulders. Her large eyes peered into yours.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Well, more or less,” was your weary reply. Your ribs were throbbing, but you raised your cuffed hands. “Think you can help me with these?”

Annie raised a hand over your cuffs and concentrated her powers into melting them, just enough for Kimiko to strike through them. You slid off the remaining metal pieces and rubbed your stinging wrists. 

“All right, let’s get a fucking move on,” said Butcher.

“Hello to you too,” you replied, raising a brow. 

“Oh, just you wait. You’ve got plenty of fucking explaining to do,” he said, leveling a finger at you. He slid it over to Ben, who watched him right back. 

“Ello, gov.” Butcher smirked. “Look at you, all gift-wrapped for us.”

He turned to M.M., who approached with an especially terrifying-looking gas mask. Your eyes widened. 

“Ready?” Butcher asked him. 

“Ready to knock this motherfucker out and bring him into custody,” M.M. grimly agreed. 

“Wait,” you said, stepping past Annie to get between M.M. and Butcher. 

With your back to the glass, you didn’t see how Ben’s eyes followed you. They hid a thread of uncertainty. He had a feeling you might do this, but he didn’t know what to expect from your team. 

“It doesn’t have to go down like this,” you told them. “He took out Homelander. He could help us bring down Vought. This fucking tower, the whole thing.”

“Is that why you ran at the airport?” M.M. asked. Then he shook his head. “Never mind. We don’t have time to debate this.”

You held out a halting hand. “Look, clearly they're not done making supes if they brought back a new and improved Black Noir. Now they’re selling V24 to the military. They need to be stopped, and with our help, Ben could do it.”

“Oh, it’s Ben now, is it?” Butcher stared at you shrewdly, then at Ben himself. The latter just tilted his head, his mouth quirking with an edge of cockiness. 

Butcher raised a brow. His gaze returned to you, noting the way you stood your ground, but pursed your lips. You were hiding something…a guilty conscience, perhaps. 

“Bloody hell. You two’ve been fucking,” he realized. 

Shocked silence spread through the rest of the team. 

Your embarrassment radiated off your flushing cheeks, and it took everything within you to resist looking back at Ben. You didn’t want to see what kind of expression he wore, but you could guess.

“No,” Annie regarded you with shock. 

“Seriously?” Hughie remarked in a high voice. 

“That’s…well, that’s none of your goddamn business, is it?” you tried to be stern, but your embarrassed shuffling made it lose some of its effect.

Kimiko shared raised brows with Frenchie, who just looked amused. M.M., on the other hand, grimaced with disgust. That actually stung, but you crossed your arms. You didn’t have a good answer for them. Not one you wanted to say in front of Ben, anyway.

“I think we can come to an agreement here,” Ben said at last. 

You turned around, and he gained the attention of the others as well. He briefly met your gaze before he shifted to Butcher. 

“Worked for us once, before you tried to double-cross me,” Ben said. 

“You want to take out Vought.” Butcher glanced at their surroundings, specifically Ben’s cell. He gave a snort of amusement. “I could understand that.”

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply. 

“We–we should probably get out of here now,” Hughie pointed out. He looked back down the hall nervously. You agreed with him; any moment now, more guards could be coming. 

“Think about it,” said Ben. “The only way you’re getting that mask on me is with a fight. One you’ll probably lose, fucking miserably. We can have the same deal as before, no strings. Until Stan Edgar and Noir are dead.”

It took Butcher all of seconds. 

He turned to Frenchie and said, “Open her up.”

“Butcher, what the fuck!” M.M. argued. 

“What do you fucking want from me, eh? Their special ops security will be all over us soon,” Butcher said. 

But he shared a meaningful look with the other man that you didn’t miss. It sparked your suspicion.

You stepped back as the first door unlocked after Frenchie hacked the commands. Then the gas misting up the cell receded.

There was an immediate reaction from Ben. He blinked in relief as he started to breathe easy. The brain fog making it almost impossible for him to stay alert slowly ebbed. 

He took one step into the hall before it happened—all in a rush, but not unexpected. He blocked M.M.’s punch and tossed him across the hall. 

Someone jumped on his back. He heard you shout, but before he could rip off the hanger on, Kimiko slipped the mask over his face and deployed a heavy dose of nerve gas. It was enough to drop him to his knees as his eyes rolled back into his head. 

Lights out. 

On the way to Supe Affairs, you weren’t happy, but there wasn’t much you could do. 

You were still in your Vought-issued gray pajamas, bare footed as you rode along with your friends in Frenchie’s van. In the very back was the haul of Ben, laid to rest in a chamber keeping him sedated. 

You had to explain to the rest of them that your father, Jonathan, was Stan Edgar’s Chief of Security. You were a cog in Vought’s wheel once upon a time, but joining the S.A. helped you escape. Ben offered you a way to achieve what you couldn’t at the S.A.—taking it all down.

Still, M.M. looked at you like he didn’t even know you. 

“How do you explain fucking him?” he asked.

You shot him a tight frown.

“First of all, none of you know what the hell I went through,” you said. “At first, I was just trying to learn how to read him. How to survive and somehow get back home.”

Emotion clogged in your throat when you thought of seeing your sister again soon, and your mom. You thought of all you had gone through in past two months, and knew that it had changed you…

For better or worse, you didn’t yet know for sure. 

“But for all his arrogance, his chauvinism, his massive ego and general bastardry, there’s still humanity in Ben,” you said, looking up at your team. You thought they had become your friends…but you supposed you would see. 

“Why else would he save me?” you said. 

They didn’t answer. You turned your head to Annie, but even she didn’t look convinced. Though you could see she wanted to be on your side, it was difficult for her to reconcile her own feelings about Soldier Boy. You certainly understood that. 

“He’s too powerful to kill,” you also pointed out. “Putting him to sleep like this will just make it worse when he wakes up…but if he’s properly motivated, he could do some good.” 

“Or off anyone who looks at him sideways,” Butcher wryly replied. “He’s dickmatized you, love.” 

You could tell the others sided with him on this. 

“You can disagree with me,” you said, “but do you have a better way to kill Noir and take down Vought?”

At the S.A., you were able to shower and get on proper clothes in a black tracksuit and some sneakers. You weren’t allowed to find out where they’d taken Ben yet, but Grace Mallory oversaw the transport, just as she called you into her office for your immediate debriefing.  

It felt more like an interrogation, not unlike the one you underwent to be recruited for the manhunt of Soldier Boy.

You felt like a different person sitting across from her. This time you sat up tall, not intimidated by the ice blue stare that greeted you. The lines in the older woman’s face were drawn, but there was an unyielding wall within the woman that you could admire. 

It just didn’t change the fact that right now, she was your opponent. And the chess game had begun.

“You went way off-road with this assignment,” she said at last. You raised a brow. 

“I’m sorry my kidnapping inconvenienced you,” you remarked. 

“Don’t be cute. You know what the hell I’m talking about,” Grace said. “At this point, I’m debating whether to bring you into custody along with Soldier Boy.”

“I’m the one who got him back to the States,” you pointed out, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed. “I had to get in contact with my father to make that happen. Do you know what that cost me?” 

You resisted an uncomfortable shudder. They’d given you more painkillers for your ribs, but it wasn’t enough the relieve the damage of that encounter. Not to your mind. 

“Aside from any other self-debasing tactics I used in order to do my job, not to mention save my own life. Without me, and the sacrifices I made, Soldier Boy wouldn’t be in a cell downstairs,” you finished. 

Saying those words stung. Like you were somehow betraying yourself. 

“That doesn’t fool me,” Grace said. In fact, her shrewd gaze was much like Butcher’s. It saw straight through you as she tilted her head in wonder. “You care about him.” 

Your lips tightened. 

After a moment, you answered.

“He was tortured for forty years,” you said. “Whether he admits it or not, he’s got scars just like the rest of us…but more importantly to you, he can help us take down Vought once and for all.” 

Grace considered you with a shifting light. “I didn’t think that mattered to you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you retorted. “But make no mistake. You will pay me what you owe me for this mission. If you think you’re going to welch on your end of the deal, then I’m about to be your long-term problem.” 

Grace huffed in wry amusement. 

“I have a feeling you will be, regardless,” she said. 

“And to that end, I will be checking in on Ben,” you replied. “He’s a person, not a weapon or a lab rat.” 

“Mind yourself, young lady,” Grace snapped, her eyes narrowing. “I admire your sense of loyalty, but in this case, it’s misplaced. That man is a bastard and a murderer, with a devastating power he can’t hope to control. And you, frankly, don’t have any standing to make demands.” 

“And what’s your body count, agent?” you challenged. “Have they all been sanctioned kills?”

When she didn’t answer, merely staring back at you, you stood up.

“You’re right, he can’t control it. Yet. Maybe that’s something productive you can get your damn scientists on,” you said. 

And before you left, you added one more thing. 

“I may not have your security clearance, your power, or your money,” you said. “But I’ve got a big fucking mouth. So unless you want me to use it, my clearance now includes seeing Ben.” 

Grace stared back at you for a moment. 

Her nails tapped on her desk as she assessed you. 

Releasing a long sigh through her nose, she relented. A little. 

“Fine,” she said. “If you can convince him to ally with us on the Vought issue, I’ll allow you to see him.” 

You nodded. For all that Grace hated Soldier Boy, she was a practical woman. She saw the same opportunity you did, and was willing to take advantage of it…even if you both knew that convincing Ben to play ball would be damn near impossible. 

In fact, this would probably be your biggest challenge yet. But this, you were willing to fight for. 

“I can start tomorrow,” you said.  

It seemed that Vought and the CIA had been thinking similarly on how to confine Soldier Boy. 

You spent one strange night back in your musty apartment before you returned to the S.A., bright and early, so that Grace could lead you to a lab below the main building. It was dark and made of pure concrete, encased in titanium. 

In it was a state-of-the-art cell with three metal walls that had to disengage before you could reach the inner room. Inside those four corners of fortified, bullet-proof glass were scarce furnishings. Ben himself was strapped to a bed, with a mask held over his face. 

At least he was out of the coffin, but it was difficult for you to watch, even as the scientists and guards unstrapped him and left the cell. The mask disengaged from his face, allowing him to breathe real air as he started to wake. But gas flooded into the compartment, not unlike Vought’s setup. 

You and Grace stood outside the glass. She glanced at you with sharp nod. Then she left you alone. 

Well, relatively speaking. There were guards posted at the entrance of the three walls behind you, controlling who got in and out of the cell area. 

Once all the walls were back in place after Grace’s departure, you let out a shaky breath and stepped forward with the plate of food you brought, along with a few bottles of water.

Ben was moving off the bed, trying and failing to clear his head as he took in his surroundings with a furious glare. It only dimmed slightly when he realized you were there. 

He made his way toward you, and you pressed a button that would allow you to safely pass his meal to him without letting any nerve gas escape the inner cell. Ben removed the lid from the plate, inspected the chicken and vegetables with an unreadable expression.

Then, with a burst of force, he took the plate and tossed it as hard as he could into one of the glass walls. 

You flinched. But by the time he looked back at you, you’d schooled your expression, merely raising a brow. 

“That was real fucking mature.” 

“Suck on my balls, sweetheart,” he retorted. He cocked his head to the side.  “Oh wait, you did. Last Tuesday.” 

You glared at him with a hot blush spreading across your face. That was not, in fact, last Tuesday. But you didn’t rise to his bait.

“Are you really willing to partner with the S.A. to take down Vought? Or was that just you bluffing?” you asked. 

Ben started to pace in irritation. You knew he was upset, and itching for revenge on anyone that would dare confine him again. You could guess what being in a cell was already doing to his mental state. 

Which was why you were here, desperately trying to help him.

“Really, would you rather be hunted all your life, or would you rather just play ball here?” you tried to reason. “Become a real ally with the S.A. Show Mallory that you can operate within the law.”

Ben looked up from his pacing just to glare at you.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to with all these demands, huh?” 

“You, Ben. I’m talking to you!” 

He ignored you, resuming his pacing. “I’m a solo act for a damn reason.”

Oh really? you wanted to say. That’s why he needed your help to try and get to Stan.

“That got you here, now didn’t it?” you asked. 

He didn’t answer. It made you think you weren’t going to get anywhere with him today. Maybe he needed some time to cool off.

You sighed and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“You’re just going to leave me in here?” he asked in disbelief. And you thought you could read a throughline of hurt behind his eyes. “I saved you…shit, I’ve lost count how many times now. And still, you fucking betrayed me.”

“Don’t you do that,” you warned. Though you felt a prickle of guilt run down your spine. “You know very well what got you here. I tried to stop it. And I’m the only one who’s on your side right now.”

“Doesn’t fucking look like it from where I’m standing.”  

You sighed in frustration. “I’ll tell you the truth, I don’t want to leave you in here. But if I can’t trust you, they never will.” 

“I don’t know what delusions you have about me,” he said, coming closer. 

“But when I get out of here, I’m slaughtering anyone who gets in my way!” he shouted savagely. 

He banged his fists into the glass so hard that it trembled, making you flinch with a gasp. A more concentrated fog smoked up the cell. Ben coughed and cursed as he stumbled back, and eventually, he fell unconscious right there on the floor. 

You watched in dismay. Despite his rage, it still hurt you to see him like this. Like a caged animal. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced yourself to leave the cell before the cameras caught them. You knew Grace would be monitoring this exchange later. 

She would probably feel vindicated at what she saw. 

The thought disgusted you as the outer walls parted, allowing you to leave. M.M. was waiting for you at the exit. He’d seen the entire thing through a monitor at the control desk, where two guards sat eating their lunch. 

“You want to protect that piece of shit?” M.M. said, jerking a thumb towards the cell. “That’s what he really is. And he clearly don’t give a fuck about you.” 

Your jaw tightened. 

“I’m not going to justify my actions to you, M.M. I know what he’s done, especially to you," you said. "But he didn’t just let me live. He protected me, saved me, more than once. From his own men even. And…he was kind to me, in his own way. I have to think that counts for something.” 

M.M. shook his head at you in disbelief.

“Maybe he went soft for a pretty girl, but that doesn’t mean he ain’t a monster,” he said. 

“That’s not all there is to him,” you said. “You didn’t see it, M.M.”

The other man watched you for a moment, before he let out a deep sigh. 

“You actually think he can be saved,” he said. 

“Maybe,” you said. “We’ll see.” 

He crossed his arms. You understood how he felt, but you couldn’t deny what your instincts told you about Ben…and your heart as well. 

“He’s right about one thing,” M.M. said. “You are delusional.”

A few days went by as the team went back to work at the S.A. as usual. But your days during your first week home became marked by your strenuous visits to Ben.

Once again, he’d rather pace than look at you. You had a feeling it helped him stay awake.

“I fought for my country,” he groused. “I don’t fucking deserve this.”

“Oh, would you stop lying?” you said in annoyance. “You’ve only ever fought for yourself. You didn’t even fight in World War II! You’ve never been a soldier. And unless you get a fucking clue, you’re going to continue being the massive man-child your father saw in you.”

Maybe it wasn’t kind, but you were fed up with his stubbornness. You turned to leave. 

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!” Ben shouted. 

You raised a brow, and you turned on your heel. The man was livid, standing in the center of his cell.

“Or what?” you challenged. 

But you soon relented at the way he withdrew–into himself. 

You had checked the monitors before you came in; he was trying not to sleep, wasn’t letting his body rest. This place was like an open wound: complete wall-to-wall glass, no privacy, nowhere to go, and nothing to do. He couldn’t distract himself with drugs, or TV, or good food, or even good sex and conversation. 

This was terrible for him, and you knew it. 

“Ben, I want to help you,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. You laid a hand on the glass. “Let me help you.”

His gaze was angry and unyielding. 

“There’s only one way you can help me,” he said. “But you won’t fucking do it.”

The team was giving you a wide berth. Even Annie greeted you in the office with more politeness than warmth. 

Above all else, you remained professional, but it was a simple fact that your team was no longer your team. They didn’t trust you, or your judgment. And you refused to show how deeply that hurt you. 

However, until you all got a breakthrough on taking down Vought and Noir, there was still work to be done. So you fell into step back in with the Surveillance team.

That meant taking your place as second-in-command to your manager, as well as returning to your cubicle next to your coworker Jess. She hugged you when she saw you, even shed tears. 

You’d hugged her a bit awkwardly, but you were touched. You hadn’t thought she cared about you that much. 

She told you that the entire Surveillance department had been worried about you. That they’d missed you, especially your calm, supportive leadership. (Apparently your manager had been stressed handling the entire department without you.)

That at least buoyed you throughout the rest of the week. 

When you returned home on Thursday, however, you received an unexpected call. But when you saw the caller ID, you inwardly kicked yourself before you answered. 

“Louisa?”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” came your sister’s sharp voice. 

So many things, you thought with a weary sigh. You held your phone to your ear while you tried to find something to cook for dinner in your pantry. All you found was a box of spaghetti…which dragged up bittersweet memories you’d rather not think about. 

“I meant to call you as soon as I got back,” you tried to explain. “But I’ve been in full debrief mode. It’s been a circus since I got back, Lou.”

You slammed the pantry shut and went for the frozen dinner in the freezer.

“I don’t care. I didn’t hear from you for almost two straight months…” 

You knew the S.A. hadn’t told her anything about your kidnapping, but you knew she had to have been worrying when you didn’t check in at all after that first time in Medellin. The sound of her emotion-choked voice made your own eyes sting. 

“I’m sorry, Lou. I’ll come visit you this weekend, okay? I’m still taking care of some things at work.” Namely a grumpy supe on lockdown. “How’s school?”

“School is fine!” she snapped. You heard her take a breath, presumably to calm herself. She had a bit of a temper, just like you, but your sister managed herself much better than you. You supposed being more well-adjusted had its perks.

“Mom was worried too, but I kept her calm. Focused on work,” she said. 

“I appreciate that. Thanks,” you replied. You knew you had to call your mom soon as well. Maybe you’d stop in on her after your sister. 

“I better see you this weekend,” she grumbled. You smiled. 

“Love you too,” you said.

“Love you…okay, I’ll let you go for now. But don’t forget!”

Once you said goodbye and hung up, you held the phone to your chest and heaved another sigh. You were exhausted, really. Sleep hadn’t been coming easy to you ever since you got back. But you knew it was nothing compared to what Ben was going through.

Which was why you visited him every day.

The next morning, you made your pitstop to the “cellar,” as you’d been calling it in your mind.

You’d brought whatever Grace allowed you to give him, like books and magazines, and an old iPod to listen to music on, but he mostly ignored you.

This time, however, he seemed in a different mood as you sat in a plastic fold out chair and ate your breakfast with him, on your side of the cell of course. You took another bite of your blueberry muffin while he pushed aside his bland-looking eggs. 

“So, how much did you get paid?” he asked. His tone was nonchalant, but his gaze was accusing. You let out a breath and looked up at him. 

“Enough to put my sister through college and pay off my mom’s debts,” you told him. “I took this job for my family, Ben.”

His finger tapped on his arm, but he didn’t relent. “Selling out is selling out.”

Wow. He really had the nerve to compare you to the way his team sold him out.

You’d tried to be nice. You really did. But he could be such a massive pain in the ass.

“You don’t seem to understand just how much shit I’m in for trying to help you right now,” you said. 

Ben mustered up some strength and got up from his cot. He drew near to you, crossing his arms.

“If this is your idea of doing me a fucking favor, then I don’t need it,” he said angrily. “I don’t need a naive little girl like you to help me do jack shit.”

You set down your muffin and stood to your feet, matching his glare. 

“Like you didn’t need my help to get into Vought Tower?” you pointed out, satisfied by the way he piped down. Silently simmering. 

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be awake right now,” you added. “You’d be back in an ice coffin.”

And that could still happen if you couldn’t convince him to cooperate with Supe Affairs.

“Fuck off,” he snapped. “And fuck you.”

Oh really? You frowned. At this point, you wanted to slap him. It seemed to be his sheer stubbornness and ego that was keeping him from his own freedom, and that, you just couldn't tolerate.

“You know what?” you said, grabbing your muffin and your fold-up chair. “Suck my dick, Ben. When you’re ready to talk to me like a human being, tap on the glass.”

You left him behind to do your real job, and this time, you didn’t let him halt your steps.

You’d scarcely entered your apartment that evening, when a shadow on the living room sofa gave you a small heart attack. 

You flipped on the lights and found your younger sister, arms crossed with a raised brow. On the coffee table in front of her was a glass of soda. It looked like she’d made herself comfortable while waiting for you.  

“Louisa! What are you doing here?” you exclaimed, with a hand on your chest. “Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?”

“I heard you coming up those rickety stairs and thought I’d pay you back for disappearing in South America,” she said. 

But soon enough, wide grins took over both of your faces. 

You pulled her into a big, warm hug. Tears burned in your eyes, and one or two slid down your cheeks as you tried to get ahold of yourself. 

“I missed you so much,” you confessed. You were just slightly taller than her, able to comfortably pet her hair and press a kiss to her cheek. Louisa was just as emotional, her pretty eyes filled with happy tears. 

She was about to speak when the glass on the coffee table suddenly shattered. 

You both flinched, and your sister gasped. You held onto her shoulders tighter, more protective as you assessed the room. You listened closely. 

A shot rang out, but it hit the wall beside your head. You moved at the last moment and narrowly avoided the third shot that would’ve struck you between the eyes. 

“Get down!” you yelled, forcing your sister to crouch along with you and move across the living room. 

Bullets tore with a vengeance through the windows, crashing into vases, picture frames, shattering the surface glass of the wooden coffee table, and ripping into the sofa until its internal fluff rose into the air like cotton confetti.

You protected Louisa’s head as you both took shelter behind the sofa. 

“What’s happening?” she shouted over the cacophony, but you didn’t have an answer for her yet. 

Your front door burst open and shattered the lock. You tensed, looking for where you stashed the spare gun you kept at home. The S.A. hadn’t gotten around to issuing you a new glock yet.

Heavy boots came through your apartment. You grabbed a piece of broken glass and told Louisa to stay down.

But when you stood and met your attacker, he was nearly three times your size. He grabbed your wrist in a firm, but not painful hold. He pulled his black ski mask down with a hand and revealed a familiar face. 

Your eyes widened, your mouth gaping in shock. 

“Frank?”

AN: 😏 Did I get'cha? Did I? Let me know in the comments. 😂

Next Time:

“Wait, wait. You’re not getting out of this.” Louisa leaned over and grabbed your hand. “What’s the deal with you and Soldier Boy? I thought the whole point of your mission was to capture him.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. 

“I was on the job, things went sideways, I got captured, and things got…complicated.” 

Frank huffed. “I think the kids are calling it Frenemies with Benefits.” 

Keep Reading: PART 13

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[petrichorium]

“don’t!”

draken pauses when you yelp. he looks up at you, one eyebrow raised, boot in the air, poised to strike. “hah?”

“don’t kill it!”

“the fuck do you want me to do?”

“pick it up and take it out!”

he scoffs instead of giving you a full response, rolling his eyes and lifting the shoe further. you rush forward to grab his wrist.

“fine! i’ll do it!”

his boot is in your hand before he can protest, wrangled out of his grasp more thanks to his surprise than your strength. you brush the bug off the wall—it’s a tiny thing, a wispy little house spider, no harm and barely visible even against stark white paint. you’re halfway to the door with it in your palm when he finally calls after you, “you’re the one who screamed for me!”

you pout on your return. he looks somewhat amused by it.

“i can’t believe you were going to kill it.”

“i can’t believe you shrieked like a little girl and then took the damn thing out anyway.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“how sneaky, trying to get me to do work on my break.” draken makes a tut noise with his teeth, shaking his head playfully.

you wave your hand aimlessly. “what’s the point of working for you big, strong boys if i can’t make you deal with spiders for me?”

“i was doing it, ‘s not my fault you’re picky.”

“then you shouldn’t complain about me putting you to work.”

“mmm, only if you don’t complain about my methods.”

wrinkling your nose, you turn away and return to your perch with your computer on your lap. “not if they’re cruel.”

“less cruel than letting it die out there.”

“it won’t die.”

“i would’ve put it out of its misery sooner.”

you pout again. “now you’re just being mean. i get it.”

“hold on—”

“no, no, you’re right. i’ll do it myself from now on.” you focus your attention on the laptop before you, and pout further, mostly because it makes your heart flutter a little when your handsome boss approaches you and looms over your desk to draw your eye. still, you lift an eyebrow at him easily. “i said you were right, i’ll handle it and i won’t bother you.”

“nah.” he shakes his head, then reaches out and flicks you in the forehead—not without affection, but gently, accompanied with a little endeared smile and no bite in the words that follow. “i’ll listen to you, brat. take ‘em outside, be humane. got it.”

but it’s what he says as he pulls away, low but clearly intended for you to hear, that has your ears burning and you quite purposefully keeping your flustered face hidden behind your computer screen.

“got me wrapped around your finger, huh? spoiled little thing.”

[mishidalinhwen]

＊*•‌‌‌✩•‌‌‌*˚ ˚*•‌‌‌✩•‌‌‌*˚＊

[C]*You get the right results and you are filled with DETERMINATION.

[C]＊*•‌‌‌✩•‌‌‌*˚ ˚*•‌‌‌✩•‌‌‌*˚＊

[C]*In fact, I have been striving for this for 3 weeks and every time the results were not the same, that is what I mean... Hemoglobin 9.7 is not the norm at all....

[C]* And the most amazing thing is that the first time I got a result of 10.3, after which I drank iron-boosting pills for a week and donated blood again iiiiiiiii 9.7.... A week of treatment and the result of 10.7 is already better, but still not the same... And when I was ready to send this job to anti–void- 11.1, the doctor confirmed that I could finally go to work.

[C]*The feeling of joy lasted all day, a great mood and a desire to do something, as well as a desire to communicate with people, covered me only until ten in the evening.

[C]*In the evening, all my strength ran out and the fatigue accumulated over the past three weeks fell out on me like a thick and heavy blanket, I fell asleep at my desk sitting in a discord with friends right during the conversation!

[C]*I woke up from the fact that someone called my name, after another five minutes of communication, I said that I was going to bed, which everyone was surprised because I usually go to bed later, and left. The very next morning, I was first woken up by the sun, which so successfully hit my face with rays, and later, after another five hours of sleep, at one o'clock in the afternoon, I fully woke up from the realization that something was wrong.

[C]*The strangeness turned out to be my state of fatigue, and what is most interesting is not physical fatigue, but moral! I've been living like a zombie all day trying to figure out what I want, and the only way to get rid of this feeling seemed to me to be drawing, which dragged on for the rest of the day!

[C]＊*•‌‌‌✩•‌‌‌*˚ ˚*•‌‌‌✩•‌‌‌*˚＊

[C]*What to say about today's condition, toooo I slept well and everything should be fine, tomorrow I will go to get a referral to my place of work and I will pack my things yeah...

[C]*I wish you a wonderful day and never get into such situations.

[C]*Have a wonderful time of day to everyone who has read!

[blackiraven]

I was finally able to write something. I'm really sorry that I can't write like I used to… I hope you're still here and waiting for my stories. Thanks🥹

Psychosis.

The dead silence and the frozen viscous air completely enveloped Riddler. For ten minutes he had been sitting motionless at his desk in the workshop and just staring at one point. The last drops of his free time were draining away from him, but Nygma couldn't do anything about it. He could only count the seconds so that his head would not completely empty. Again. He failed again. The pieces of metal lying around disappointingly indicated that Edward's new idea could not find life. Everything looked perfect in the drawings, the details were made with millimeter precision. But one moment devalued all his efforts. Further ideas with plans withered away, and the concentrated poison of failure continued to eat into the depths. Now it's just a pile of garbage. The source of strength, enthusiasm and excitement has dried up abruptly. His body went limp, his head drooped, and his hands fell into his lap. The pain in the back of his head, legs, and fingers was the only reminder that Edward was still alive, that he had to do something, had to move, had to think. But he didn't want any of that right now. Nygma got tired of all this, the fact of his own existence became disgusting and tragic. The pulse of a worn-out heart cut through every part of his body. It's over, this hell of circulating futility and hopelessness will never end.

Suddenly Edward jumped up like an unclenched spring, his trembling fists hitting the table. Everything rattled and fell to the floor. Instead of regular breathing, incomprehensible wild wheezes were heard, everything in his chest was compressed and cracked.

"Why?! It should have worked! It should have been!" grabbing a fragment of a failed structure and uncontrollably squeezing it until it crunched in his knuckles, the unrecognized genius threw it far away, just not to see these pieces of the puzzle gathering into a picture of shame. After the violent waves of rage, there came a calm of longing and helplessness. Flopping unevenly back into his chair, Nygma clutched his head, inside which everything was mixing and screaming. Bent over, he swayed heavily from side to side.

"I just want to prove to everyone his stupidity… his cheating… Why can't I do it? I'm right…" silent tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, ignoring all Edward's attempts to hide it from himself. "Indeed, why should they think and seek the truth?! It's easier to exist in stupid fantasies, where a pretentious hero will do everything for them! Idiots… idiots!" he also screamed sharply at the ceiling with his head tilted back. In a fit, the hands clutched at each other and dug their nails into the dry and flaky skin, scratching new cracks. Then the hands jerked up to the head, simultaneously pinching the neck. Trembling palms were kneading his pale and blue face in places, wiping sweat and pulling dirty hair. It was as if he was trying to sculpt something out of a soft material, something new and perfect. But this also did not work out, for which Riddler immediately punished himself with unpleasant slaps in the face.

"Edward? Is everything all right?" a calm, viscous voice stopped self-torture, and the turned-on light dispersed the psychedelic shadow theater in the cracked mirror of the mind. As it turned out, the thrown out part hit the switch exactly, and the workshop turned into a bottomless dark spot. Crane, whom Nygma had arranged to meet that evening, was standing on the threshold. Unable to find the creator of the dangerous traps anywhere, Scarecrow had to open the metal tomb. A slight coolness cautiously penetrated inside, and the ancient curse did not want to get out of its native depths in any way. Instead of the promised demonstration of a new invention and ringing, proud speeches, Jonathan found only a wounded and devastated soul, around which dust was actively accumulating.

"I'm fine! I… I'll be there soon." Edward shouted out too abnormally, without even looking at the scheduled guest. He quickly and rather absurdly pretended to be busy with a very important job, which attracted even more concerned attention to himself. John was not going to believe this, since all the tools with torn drawings were scattered everywhere, but not on the table. And the bent, trembling condition of the martyr in green made everything obvious.

"Edward… what happened? What offended you?" keeping his usual composure inside, Crane quietly entered the workshop and carefully examined the bomb ready to explode in the dim light.

"Nothing!" he was rushing around, constantly shaking his hands and wanting to get under the table as soon as possible so as not to show his loss. The ghost, soaked with the fears of the innocent, persistently made its way through all the protective barriers closer and closer.

"You don't have to hide it from me. I'll listen to everything." Crane stretched out his hand and was about to touch pain-riddled body and take away some of the tension, but Nygma, gritting his teeth, jumped up in an attacking stance.

"Do you want to hear what a nothingness I am?! Yes! That's the way it is! I failed again! There is no ingenious invention! There is absolutely nothing! Nothing!" Riddler totally broke down and screamed at the top of his voice, advancing on Scarecrow with heavy steps. The whole world seemed to shake and collapse with him. The long-infected wound had ruptured and was spewing bubbling blood and acidic pus. For a moment, John still succumbed to confusion and shock, but immediately closed the remnants of his lips, put his hands behind his back and assumed a defensive position. He knew perfectly well and had repeatedly witnessed Edward's similar attacks, but this time Jonathan was greatly hurt by the fact that he did not have time to foresee the impending storm. That he did not keep track of the deteriorating condition of his close colleague and did not pay the necessary attention in time.

"It's nice to know, isn't it?! Is it nice to see a worthless competitor eliminate himself?! Funny, isn't it?! Yes! I can't take it anymore! You can all trample on me and finish me off like a beast! Yes, yes! Right now! I don't need anything else!" his own words stuck in his throat and did not allow Nygma to breathe normally. He was sobbing, grunting, waving his arms and kicking all the heavy parts and tools. Carefully stepping back, Crane withstood the jagged words piercing into his soul with all fortitude and waited for the right moment.

"Everything is so simple for you! None of you will understand the severity of my work! Found the guns – you are the coolest, mixed the chemical formula – you are the most dangerous and scary! I hate it! I hate it! I put everything in, I do everything, and you always laugh and think I'm a jerk! Idiots! Bastards! I hate you all!" in the end, everything got mixed up and turned into a long scream and howl. A broken and clouded mind took Riddler somewhere very far away into blood-dark fantasies, where everyone is struggling in agony and burning with hellish flames. The voice trailed off and died away like on a broken record, and a strong and unbearable pain hit his temples. Edward, who was bent over, clutched his head, moaned and burst into tears, like the most offended child in the world. He managed to recover briefly only when jets of thickened blood gushed out of his nose. All sound disappeared, then a nasty ringing began to drill into his brain, and Jonathan stood in front of his reddened eyes, numb.

"I… huh… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… ah! I didn't want to …" from the belated realization of everything that had happened, heart began to pound even harder, blood poured down to his chin and fell down in large drops. The consequences of the emotional storm were terrible. A constantly distorted face was visible between the twitching fingers. Shame, misunderstanding, horror and the need to sink into the ground and hammer in a coffin.

"Edward… it's okay…"

"No! No! Don't come near me! I've said too much."

The small confrontation continued, and the two only warriors exchanged roles. Now Edward was dodging the skinny hands reaching out to him. Wounded and cornered, the beast was quickly losing its last strength so that John could easily catch it.

"Edward! It's over. You need to calm down." faded scarred palms gripped Nygma's tense and raised shoulders.

"No! Leave me alone!" he kicked and wouldn't let Crane close the distance between them.

"Leave you alone for what? You've already done enough." for a successful move, Jonathan decided to apply a little rigor. Without any mercy, he grabbed the disobedient and stubborn boy by the scruff of the neck and dragged him along. The slightly rude method worked – finally outraged, Edward finally calmed down and trailed after Scarecrow with shaky legs. The headache completely disarmed him and made him as malleable as possible. In Crane's arms, he briefly felt like a leaf caught in a warm, light wind.

An inconspicuous but valuable relic was completely removed from the suffocating crypt. Riddler's devastated body was seated on the only harsh sofa in the living room. He wanted to say something, to object, but Scarecrow put hand on his head in time and thereby stopped him.

"Just take a deep breath. I'll be right back." lightly scratching the shaggy top of his head, John briefly left Edward, who was constantly sniffing, smearing blood on his face and holding onto his aching head. Crane returned quickly, bringing with him a glass of water and several pills with a strong sedative effect. Nygma again forgot to take his medications periodically and brought everything up to the present moment.

"Thank you…" the patient mumbled and gulped down all the water along with the pills. The liquid coolness was quickly absorbed and spread over the withered body, extinguishing the insatiable fire and supporting the remnants of life. A personal psychotherapist sat down next to him and carefully wiped his nose and chin with a damp cloth.

"Don't get hung up on it. You need peace now."

"But I…"

"Edward, please."

"I really didn't succeed."

"But it doesn't end there."

"That's right. This only confirms my insignificance and everything continues."

“No. It just signals that you need to rest and gain strength. You're exhausting yourself."

"It's too easy…"

"And you're complicating things again, aren't you?"

"It makes more sense and logic."

"But it's not always necessary, Edward."

The confused and broken Riddler continued to turn his head in every possible way and grunt with displeasure. In the end, Scarecrow was able to pull him to himself and lay him on his shoulder, continuing to stroke his head and cheeks. Starting to breathe deeply, Edward buried his face in the thin and deeply scarred neck. Fingers with black nails, like tree roots, crept up to the glazed, tear-soaked eyes and covered them with themselves. The impenetrable darkness and the returned silence helped to cope with the consequences of total psychosis. The high blood pressure returned to a normal rhythm, the heavy pulsations in the skull contracted, the tormenting thoughts dissipated. Nygma was able to simply enjoy being with the only person close to him and feel safe. Abandoned and cursed by the whole world, and only the same leper and rejected could give him care and support.

"I'm sorry. I'm… such an idiot." trembling hands, looking for at least a little warmth, clung to the unshakeable Crane, ready to take away all the ailments of the Riddler and end his suffering.

"It's all right. I'm not offended by you at all." he says it every time and every time it calms Edward down and takes a heavy load off his twisted shoulders. John would never be able to take offense or get angry at Eddie, who is so harmless and gentle inside. He sees through Riddler, can perfectly understand him, listen and find a gentle approach, for which Nygma reveals his positive qualities and spiritual secrets to Scarecrow. Edward needs to be himself with at least someone, to be a sensitive child, and John needs to devote the rest of his life to at least someone and give the remnants of human feelings. Such small and delicate moments are slowly becoming part of the meaning of their existence. And no one else knows about it. The pills continued to work, Nygma's eyelids, darkened due to lack of sleep, became heavy and closed. Smiling slightly at the cute picture, Crane smoothly laid Edward's head on his lap and put a pillow under. His limping leg hurt a little, but he was willing to suffer for the sake of a restful sleep of his precious exhibit.

"So I'll be able to do it next time?" Riddler's voice was getting quieter and quieter, he was already half asleep, but he still wanted to talk a little more.

"Of course, Edward. Before that, you had a lot of successful plans, so don't cancel everything because of a couple of failures." encouraging words lulled well and protected from possible nightmares.

"Really?.." the fog of comfort thickened in his head and this fact from his own biography was able to surprise Riddler.

“Yeah. Last time, you quickly caught Robin in your trap and Batman had to save his adopted bird." Jonathan seemed to be telling a fascinating fairy tale, holding Nygma's hand and continuing to stroke his head.

"Mef… Robin is too stupid, it's always easy to catch him." he waved away and tucked his legs under him, turning over in displeasure.

"But this proves that Batman still cannot train his heir, that he is not able to choose a decent person. And no one notices it. Except for you."

"Ha! And for the umpteenth time… oh… I get into this… oh… weak spot of his! Brilliant!" with each new yawn, Eddie fell deeper and deeper into dreams with a soft smile.

"That's right, Edward, that's right. Only you can do it, no one else." leaning over and whispering in his ear, Crane kissed the curled-up Nygma. Before completely dissolving into reviving fantasies, he mumbled something unintelligible. Now Riddler is safe, the lord of nightmares himself guarded his sleep and covered him with a slightly prickly but warm blanket. Poor, exhausted Eddie will have a long and sound sleep, perhaps for twelve hours or even for the whole day. And while his body and psyche are recovering, Jonathan will stay here to take care of this unfortunate child, who may injure himself alone. When he wakes up, he will look like a newborn baby: just as hungry, unable to speak and navigate in space. For a Scarecrow, this is a wonderful sight every time like the first time. Even in the thickest and darkest forest of horror and fear, there is a small cozy place hidden from everyone, designed for one person.

John sat on the couch for a while longer, enjoying the favorable silence interspersed with Edward's peaceful snuffling. But he had to leave the sleeper to do some things: prepare new portions of medicines and study the consequences of Riddler's self-poisoning, reflected in his lair. As a rule, this is a huge tangled tangle of mess, dirt and ruin. And the author himself will unravel all this, having previously listened to a long and educational lecture from Crane. He will always be there, will always look out for Nygma and will be his support in difficult moments. The initial scientific interest slowly and imperceptibly turned into another vital need. Riddler categorically cannot and does not want to show his weaknesses and ask for help, but he always hopes and waits for Scarecrow to reach his sore spots and heal them. This mute call and inner cry reached the addressee again.

[nevarroes]

RE: elbow pain tips

hi! full time animator here and the best thing I can say to help with my elbow and wrist (and thumb...and just whole hand) issues are to buy yourself a set of dumbbells under 10lbs (I use 8lb) and start doing a few (minor!) strength exercises. When I first started in the industry, my studio wasn't paying enough so I had a line chef job by night to cover bills...using a knife all night and weekend, and tablet pen all day wrecked my body and some minor strength training was the only thing that actually helped and prevented further injury. I don't tend to need more than 10 mins per day, and usually the act of moving my arms in this way illuminates where some problem areas are and I'll do a few mins of stretching just because it feels good and I'm already in a "might as well" mindset

With the tablet pen issue....ahh. I definitely understand the use of the buttons being important as a pro where speed is important/fighting with the program is annoying, but it got so bad for me personally that I could no longer close my hand and it took months to heal and grip strength has never been the same. Currently I remapped my function keys to change brush sizes rapidly to a few "most used" sizes, and have a gortash thicc tablet pen that is comfortable to hold instead of death gripping (idk, bigger size just naturally loosened grip).....have also realized using a trackpad is the fastest way to mess my wrists up again!

Final tip if you start to feel tingly hand/wrist/elbow it's time for a break!! it's legit so frustrating to have to slow down but every time I've pushed through instead of taking an hour for a break, it's resulted in catastrophe and it's so much worse to have to call my boss and say "I can't grip anything right now can we push production by a few days" 💀

I fr wish you so much luck, I love your work so much and really hope any of these anecdotal experiences/tips help at all!!!! 🥺🥺🥺

gosh thank u so much, it does help a lot to hear someone elses experience 💜💜 I actually just ordered some light weights today too tbh thinking that maybe some strength training might improve it, so I’m super glad to hear it helped you!!

I do unfortunately play dangerously close to the…. “tennis elbow incoming” area rn with needing to code by day nd then draw by night barely getting out of that scrunched up elbow position I have (tiny ass corner desk its horrible dont ask i knowww i know). Usually I just had one or the other, like elbow pains or hand/finger pains nd cramps but recently….🙂‍↔️

I’ll definitely be a bit stricter with myself when it comes to stretching nd strengthening the muscles. I’m still trying to avoid having to fuck around with my pen grip for now because god did I get so used to those side buttons and the grip in general but I’m keeping it as an option before it gets too bad💔

[gatalentan]

don’t think about little melissa schemmenti playing with the toy fire truck she got for christmas dreaming about being a firefighter like her uncle & going to the public library and trying with all her being to read all about firefighters just to have her dreams and hopes crushed

"Miss Schemmenti?" a voice like a mouse squeaked out from the doorway.

Melissa looked up from her grading, flipping her glasses back onto her head. Isaiah, one of her second graders, stood in her doorway, eyes big as moons, his little fingers gripping his backpack straps like a lifeline, a tiny ball of tension. Melissa felt her eyebrows knit in the middle.

"Hey Isaiah. C'mon in." She tilted her head towards the desks in front of her and he skulked in, shoulders wrapped around his ears. He plopped down on the nearest chair, bag hitting the ground with a thump. Melissa wheeled her chair over to him, sitting on it backwards. "You ok, kid?" She asked, voice as soft as she could make it, willing him to talk.

"Umm. It's." He looked down at the desk, at his hands, the floor. He nibbled at the end of his thumbnail, working the words out of his mouth. "Well, you know how my Dad's a pilot? And my Grandpa? And my Uncle David?"

"Uhuh. You drew that great picture." Melissa thumbed behind her at the project board where a drawing of Isaiah and his family in matching pilot hats flew across a green sky.

"Dad said I won't get to fly, 'cause-a my eyes." He told the table, mumbling into his shirt collar. "'cause-a the colours being mixed up. I'm." He swiped at his face, ducking it lower so she wouldn't see. "I'm sad, I guess. I dunno what to do."

Melissa's stomach dropped, felt her whole body droop with the sheer weight of how much she could relate, suddenly felt all of eight years old herself. Squeaky wheels on a cardboard firetruck screeching along the tiled floor of her Nonna's kitchen, water pistols firing at housefires drawn in crayon, scampering up trees with her little sister to save imaginary cats. She dug her nails into the knees, gathering herself with a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Isaiah." She handed him a tissue and he took it, but was too proud to use it. "You know, Miss Schemmenti didn't always wanna be a teacher. When I was your age, I really wanted to be a firefighter, just like my uncle."

He finally looked up at her, eyes even wider, somehow. "You did? But you're… Miss Schemmenti."

Melissa laughed low in her throat. "I am now. That's not what I planned. See, back then, they didn't let girls be firefighters. I even made 'em let me do the test-" (slipped her Uncle two month's allowance for it) "-but they rejected me."

She'd aced it too, had been doing strength and cardio training for years, so sure she could be the exception, the star in track at her high school. But her best just wasn't enough, and no amount of greased palms and yelling and tears and being deserving could change things, not back then. It had taken her a long time and a deferred year of college to figure out what she'd do with her life without this piece of her that had felt so inevitable and had now been ripped away.

"But that's not FAIR." He smacked the table with his fists, then flinched at his own outburst, retreating back into himself. "Oops. Sorry. 'bout the table. And uh, you. It's not fair."

Melissa bit her lip, smiling sadly at his compassion, remembering how the sadness, the weight of disappointment, had crushed her under its rubber boot for a long time. She hated that he felt even a fraction of it. "Yeah. It wasn't fair."

She sighed, leaning forward on the back of the chair to really look at the little boy in front of her, looking up at her like she knew the secrets to the universe and could somehow fix this for him with a magic wand. It struck her, then, just how many times she'd seen that same face mirrored at her time and time again, for decades, with different noses, different hair, different eyes, but still the same. And she still knew all their names, even now, could recall them just as easy as the coins jingling in her pocket, their hopeful faces just as bright and shiny and full of potential she so desperately wanted to help them achieve some small way.

"But you know what? If I hadn't been rejected, I wouldn't be here, right? I wouldn't have met you, or all the hundreds of other kids I've met since before you were even born. Sometimes we just end up on a different path than what we thought. I love being a teacher, turns out, and I'm pretty good at it, right?" He nodded. "And I never would-a found that out if I became a firefighter."

"I guess. I just..." He put his chin on his hands, deep in thought. "I don't know what to do now. I-" he audibly swallowed, voice wobbling "I wanted to make my Dad proud. I wanted to be like him. I don't wanna be different to everybody else."

Ouch.

"I know he's already so proud of you, kid. And so am I. We've all got something that makes us a little different. Me? My eyes aren't so good either, see?" She flipped her glasses back onto her nose to punctuate her point, jiggling them up and down by the arms to make him crack a smile. "You see things in a different colour. But that's not the only thing you are. You're smart, and you're funny, and I know you got lots of friends, 'cause I've seen you guys in detention often enough." She pulled a mock stern face, and his reluctant smile peeled open a little wider. "You'll figure it out. You don't gotta know right now, you're still young, just focus on being the best you you can be, and everything will work itself out in the end."

"But my Dad-"

"Your Dad will love you no matter what you become." And she knew he would, too, had seen his big puffed out chest at the open house, how his Dad's smile had spread wide with the same gap as Isaiah had when she'd told him about how he was top of her class.

Isaiah let out a huge breath, somehow sounding bigger than his four foot frame could have possibly contained.

"You promise?"

"'Course I do." She stook out her pinkie, and he took it, both giggling. A grown ass fifty-whatever year old, giggling. Kids, man. "You feelin' any better?"

"Yeah. I think so. Maybe."

"Good." She leaned back in her chair, had an idea. "Hey, wanna know a secret?" She whispered conspiratorially, peering around like there might be a spy hidden in any corner.

"Duh!"

Melissa wheeled back her chair and ferreted around in the top drawer of her desk, pulling out a bag of leftover Halloween candy. She plonked it on the table in front of him, taking a Twix for herself. "I got contraband. Don't tell Mrs. Howard. If I cover my eyes and two pieces of candy and my best Math student aren't here when I open them, then that's none of my business."

His face lit up like the Fourth of July, and Melissa dutifully covered her eyes with her palm. The sound of rustling plastic packages, of a backpack being snatched, and sneakers hastily squeaking on the sticky floor followed, then stopped dead.

"Thanks Miss Schemmenti."

She peeped out from between her fingers, seeing him smiling back at her from the doorway, tension lifted from his little body. Before she could respond, he scampered off.

Yeah, she'd ended up where she was meant to be, even if it wasn't what she'd planned.

[jjungkooksthighs]

The grass beneath him bows to his power as he easily pushes up and off the ground they’d been entangled with each other on. The muscles lining the planes of his legs jump against her as he does, and when she feels them flexing against her ass at the same time one of his hands comes down to cup one of her asscheeks, that has desire bubbling in her core. His strength had never failed to make her knees shake whether he had her in bed, against the wall, over the desk, or anything that happened to be the nearest available surface he could pin or screw her against when he just couldn’t hold in his need anymore. This time was no different. It takes only one arm for him to hold her up against his chest. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around him and he carries her without saying a word to the biggest, thickest oak. He passes Namjoon, who stands with his arms behind his back along the west side of the clearing. Yoongi lingers at the other side near a shrub almost as tall as he. Taehyung saunters along the south side, and Jimin has chosen to place himself farthest from Taehyung to the north as possible. It is to the north that Jungkook brings her. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t slow, and doesn’t hesitate in his journey. Midway through the clearing, he finally addresses his alphas. The wind is blown forth by gods to carry out his will as it swirls around him before he sends it away and to all the alphas it can reach. His own wolf stirs as he beckons his other half forth, and flecks of silver make the warmth of his irises fade in the coldness that swallows them before he speaks. He would need to be cold for what was about to come. He could not be soft as his omega knew him to be. After all, to be soft would be to be weak. And no one would follow him if they believed him to be so. The shards of ice in those eyes of his penetrate his very voice when he finally intones: Some of you may be questioning my ability to control my omega after her unseemly display earlier. Some of you may even be wondering at my capacity to lead you if I cannot even control one woman. He keeps walking, his eyes set on the brown, aged trunk of the oaken tree while he goes on. You were sent away because I needed to remind her where her manners were. The oak draws near, the grass kneeling for him while he treads on it. And you were called back because you all need to witness what happens when I am disrespected. Even my beloved mate cannot escape punishment when such an egregious act is committed.

Within a second, she feels her back hit the hard plane of the tree, one of his hand covering her head to ensure she doesn't get hurt. Her head is still buried in his neck, too intimidated, and too shy to really look at him. "Look at me, little girl."

She can't disobey him. Not when she promised him obedience. So.. she looks up, eyes meeting his. Her breath hitches, and her heart beats louder. Faster. Before she can stop herself, an apology for her behavior comes tumbling out of her mouth. She could have hoped for some form of mercy earlier.. but now? Oh, god.. It's him.

Hello again, my lady.

The winter has fallen over his irises. They chill her to the bone, and she wonders how she ever looked into them before and wasn’t frozen over.

He flicks up a brow.

Got into some trouble, I see. How…fortunate for me.

His lips turn up, but they stretch wide in mischief.

This is going to be fun. Do you have any idea what you’re in for, female?

She shakes her head in answer, and it only makes his lips lift higher.

Oh, female… he drawls. He’s going to make such a mess of you. We’re going to make such a mess of you. By the time we’re done, you won’t even be able to crawl to us anymore.

[n0ctiluntill]

It's me again!!!

I am indeed intrigued about this AU. So did Mafuyu leave her mother on purpose? Did the mom kick her out? was it kind of like a bird leaving the nest kind of thing? Or was it more that little Mafuyu is still under her mother's custody, and she has to get home by a certain time? >:)

Also, does she learn new skills when she meets the gang? Are their areas like savepoints after Mfy realizes they are of no harm? Are there other enemies that aren't Mafumom?

Does Mafuyu have a weapon, if there are physical enemies? Would the combat be more like psychological warfare (I do not know exactly what that term means), where she has to talk out her inner emotions and feelings and stuff? Is it based off of the rest of her friends' lairs?(Like the candy shop has cute enemies with hidden abilities, Ena's art thingy has creatures with a high attack but low defense and no strategy, and Kanade has slowly poisoning enemies that gradually lower your stats until fighting is impossible).

Does HP or mental strength increase, to be able to fight MafuMom final boss? Are there times when you can try to fight your mom but if you don't have the mementos then you fail?

Also, will the Vocaloids be in any subplots or have any involvement in the story?

Thank you for coming to my Ted Ask,

Good luck,

Random person on the internet.

hey sorry for the wait it took me a while to gather all the ideas ( so many LMAO questions like you're going to develop a rn game. nvm really glad you got so consumed) !! you have very interesting thoughts, but my vision of the game is a little different from yours ... I think it's okay if I share my thoughts as well. It’s worth starting with the fact that mafuyu got lost by accident. It could be a busy street or a market where she was staring at a street musician (like miku?) however, this is not so important as the fact that mafuyu’s mother did not provide for this and she is very worried about her, and mafuyu, never getting into such situations, goes ahead somewhere.

Mgh, about skills..I think mafuyu can't do anything at all (THIS SOUNDS HORRIBLE). after meeting niigo, they and mafuyu discover something new for themselves. I say right away that this is not 100% niigo, due to the setting, their characters are slightly changed. but I try to fit in their canon conflicts. It is important for me to pass on life lessons. I still think it would be possible not to make friends with niigo, but I'm afraid that this will spoil the gaming experience.

accelli, I would not add bosses and enemies familiar to games at all. kanade's location - the memory room - would look like a large maze, in addition to the puzzle, the submitting paintings with butterflies could pose a threat. and at the end of the maze, she meets a mysterious girl with a piano who was unable to keep something valuable to her and locked herself in.

ena's location - drawing class and GHAH there we see an angry ena who either lost or realizes that she can't get better right now. in anger, ena scatters art objects, chairs, desks, and when she realizes that she almost killed mafuyu, she becomes very ashamed and draws a portrait of mafuyu as an apology. and mizuki breeds mafuyu in her shop for candy, and since she has no money, she has to work hard. I like your suggestions about enemies and their characteristics! but honestly, I don’t know where to put them.. if you have ideas, be sure to share them!

souvenirs are needed as a split between mafuyu yu and her mother. mafumom breaks everything that the girls have given, and she is absolutely angry at the new philosophy that mafuyu brought with her from the adventure.

my ideas are more suitable for a novel than a game, but I would like to make it completely logical and laconic in terms of story.

good luck and thanks for the questions, dude!

[hootsewers]

Ok I posted the other one while like…barely conscious lmao. But I’m home now, have been since like 4pm, and I’ve been resting and chillin and watching dinosaur videos and falling asleep watching dinosaur videos (sorry trey the explainer I have sleepy bitch disease).

Definitely sore & VERY tired, like…intense body sweats & overheating from standing for five minutes to empty my drain tubes tired, lol. I’m wearing a thick-ass medical grade corset for the next 48 hours. But I’m not in much pain, like I’ve had period cramps worse than this. knock on wood it doesn’t get much worse lol. I heard days 2 and 3 are supposed to be Rough. But in a week or two I should have enough strength to get back to my desk, at which point I’ll have 3-4 weeks before I’m actually clear to go to work….and you know what that means!! TIME TO MAKE SO MUCH ART I feel so fucking motivated and now that this is finally done there is both a physical and metaphorical weight off my chest. I can’t wait to start working on som of these projects that really excite me. I remembered to bring my iPad downstairs so I can draw in the meantime, so pumped to actually post some of my world building stuff.

And again….thank you to everyone who was kind and/or generous to me through this nightmare shitshow of a process lol. It’s been a long time coming but I’m so happy I finally got here.

[etphonemom]

Ms. Price, exasperated with Talia's shenanigans, musters up the energy to lay down the law,

"Okay then, don't. You brought it up. Now, Talia, I've given you WEEKS to complete this-"

Talia draws a long sigh in distress, restraining herself from touching the back of her hand to her forehead for dramatic effect,

"BUUUT since you asked, I dreamt that I was walking down my street, as I do every morning and afternoon because I only live a few blocks away and mother insists I get fresh air claiming that cracking a window in my room doesn't count and I need to stretch my legs, and that writing screenplays where my protagonist IS OUTSIDE FIGHTING for her LIFE-"

Ms. Price, dumbfounded by herself for entertaining this, says in a monotone and nasally voice,

"How dare your mom care about you, get to the point."

Talia, so enamored by her mother's betrayal, rubs her temples to self soothe herself back on track. Ms. Price rolls her eyes, trying not to snap the pen she has been tapping on her desk with increased strength over the course of this song and dance.

Talia takes a deep breath and flicks back on her thespian attire,

"There I was, walking down the street; my street, when a stranger in a dark cloak with pale skin and dark sunkened eyes stops me."

Talia clutches her hands to her chest, eyes wide fearing the story she crafted while choking up her words breathlessly. Ms. Price fantasizes about Talia losing her voice even if it was just for a day.

"He had his arm drawn with his cloak up over his face, and lowered it like so. I had never seen such ill intentioned eyes in my life. Then he revealed his teeth, long and sharp fangs. The one thing that goes overlooked with vampires is that-"

Talia pauses for dramatic effect, slams the desk with both of her hands and stares deeply into Ms. Price's helpless eyes. In a booming, deep voice,

"ALL OF THEIR TEETH ARE FANGS, and the back of their throat IS AN INCINERATOR! Dun DUn DUNNN!"

Ms. Price asks god, "Why? Just, why?"

Talia reverts back to her choked up, woe is me persona,

"And he said," sniffle, "he said,"

Cue Dracula persona, and Ms. Price's runaway will to live,

"If you turn in your Chemistry Assignments, I will be forced to eat your family in front of you, starting with LILO! MUAHAHAHAH! Stuffed unicorns are a tasty appetizer!"

After Talia finishes mischievously rubbing her hands together, Ms. Price's one request came true...

THE POINT

Talia stands up straight, and in her sweet and accomplished voice she states,

"So I woke up crying and without thinking I ripped up my Chem sheets that WERE completed. Sorry."

Ms. Price's vein is popping out of her forehead, her thoughts running rampant: I finally got the motivation to meal prep this week and instead of enjoying my teriyaki glazed salmon and brown rice in peace, I got yet another Talia "no Show only Tell". I will admit defeat yet again.

"Talia, I will give you to this weekend now will you please leave."

Talia, impressed with her own performance, gives a humble curtsy and nod but before she can make it out of the room Ms. Price clears her throat,

"Ahem, don't you need new sheets?"

Talia turns on her heels,

"Oh that part about me ripping it up was the dream within the dream. I'm not going to waste paper Ms. Price! Thanks for the extension!"

She swings her arms and she darts out of the room like one of those old cartoon characters.

"I'm never having kids."

Just as Ms. Price goes to take the first bite of her delicious meal, the bell rings.

"Goddamnit!"

Prompt #1055

"What did you dream of?"

"I'd rather not say."

[pluviophile-imagines]

“don’t!”

draken pauses when you yelp. he looks up at you, one eyebrow raised, boot in the air, poised to strike. “hah?”

“don’t kill it!”

“the fuck do you want me to do?”

“pick it up and take it out!”

he scoffs instead of giving you a full response, rolling his eyes and lifting the shoe further. you rush forward to grab his wrist.

“fine! i’ll do it!”

his boot is in your hand before he can protest, wrangled out of his grasp more thanks to his surprise than your strength. you brush the bug off the wall—it’s a tiny thing, a wispy little house spider, no harm and barely visible even against stark white paint. you’re halfway to the door with it in your palm when he finally calls after you, “you’re the one who screamed for me!”

you pout on your return. he looks somewhat amused by it.

“i can’t believe you were going to kill it.”

“i can’t believe you shrieked like a little girl and then took the damn thing out anyway.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“how sneaky, trying to get me to do work on my break.” draken makes a tut noise with his teeth, shaking his head playfully.

you wave your hand aimlessly. “what’s the point of working for you big, strong boys if i can’t make you deal with spiders for me?”

“i was doing it, ‘s not my fault you’re picky.”

“then you shouldn’t complain about me putting you to work.”

“mmm, only if you don’t complain about my methods.”

wrinkling your nose, you turn away and return to your perch with your computer on your lap. “not if they’re cruel.”

“less cruel than letting it die out there.”

“it won’t die.”

“i would’ve put it out of its misery sooner.”

you pout again. “now you’re just being mean. i get it.”

“hold on—”

“no, no, you’re right. i’ll do it myself from now on.” you focus your attention on the laptop before you, and pout further, mostly because it makes your heart flutter a little when your handsome boss approaches you and looms over your desk to draw your eye. still, you lift an eyebrow at him easily. “i said you were right, i’ll handle it and i won’t bother you.”

“nah.” he shakes his head, then reaches out and flicks you in the forehead—not without affection, but gently, accompanied with a little endeared smile and no bite in the words that follow. “i’ll listen to you, brat. take ‘em outside, be humane. got it.”

but it’s what he says as he pulls away, low but clearly intended for you to hear, that has your ears burning and you quite purposefully keeping your flustered face hidden behind your computer screen.

“got me wrapped around your finger, huh? spoiled little thing.”

[drakenology]

Hmmm how about a school reunion at UA high (you can choose any men you like idc). The pro hero doing the freaky with you in an empty class, and it could be a friends to lover kind of story. (Just sayin if it’s a good idea ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ since it just popped in my mind)

i’m running laps... nonnie you da bestest!

Reunion- Izuku Midoriya

warnings: smut, cum, panty gag..? is that what you call it?, exhibitionism, raw sex, cussing, heavy teasing, use of alcohol, friends to lovers, cocky ass pro hero midorya.

If you told yourself about an hour ago that you’d be going to a high school reunion you’d call yourself a liar. UA was the place where you spent your best years, learned a lot and made many amazing long time friends. Even if your invitation was last minute you still got yourself all dolled up to attend.

UA’s entire campus was decorated for the occasion. Even though you were to all meet in the gynasiam, your old principal still knew how to host an event. As you walk inside the gym you see all the tables, some already filled with former students catching up with their old classmates. You notice that all of 1-A was in one assigned part of the room and run over.

You noticed you could hardly recognize any of your friends when you arrived, Kirishima towering over just about the whole class as he stomped around greeting everyone with his huge dress shoes. All the girls looked so pretty in their gowns, sparkling in the light as they walked by to say hello and walk straight to the punch bowl to chat; you following them when you see Momo and Ochako.

Todoroki, Bakugo and Midorya all walk in together looking like and absolute iconic trio. They all grew into their looks fabulously, practically every alumni stopping and staring as they entered.

Izuku greeted everyone with a warm smile you’ve always loved, emerald eyes shimmering in the lights above your heads. Izuku was always such a handsome boy. Though after all these years those boyishly cute looks were replaced by the strong and prominent features of a man. He wore a black sweater with a white button up underneath, the collar sitting on the crewneck sweater with class. He had on a silver watch and matching rings, dazzling cufflinks and charming shoes. His entrance made a point that it paid to be the number one hero, and any naysayer from way back when could respectfully suck his dick.

Izuku stops by the punch bowl when he sees you and all the girls standing near it, obviously he had to greet all the women who supported and helped him be the hero he is today. He gushed to Uraraka about how strong and powerful she’s become, doing the same for Asui and Momo as well.

When he saw you though, standing with your glass in your pretty manicured hands he had hug you. Even though you were only his friend, he often found himself stroking his cock to the thought of your breathy moans as he pounds you harshly against any and every surface, his hand reaching up to choke you as he fucks tears into your eyes.

You were admirable, strong and gorgeous. All throughout high school he watched you closely, witnessing your greatness before you topped the charts as a top five hero. He always wanted to be close to you, hoping your greatness rubbed off on him as you learned from each other.

Izuku got close, his scent enveloping you as he pulled you up to him by the waist and hugged you like a long lost lover. You find yourself sighing into his chest and he swayed side to side, his big arms encasing you in their strength and protection.

This is the same boy who couldn’t even look you in the face at school without turning beet red, all grown up and so confident in himself. He could charm the panties off of even the prudest of women, his once gentle voice now smooth and deep. “How have you been, Y/N? It’s been so long since I last saw you.” Izuku says, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. If he was trying to seduce you it was working, a giddy laugh parting your lips as your stomach fluttered.

“I-It has been a while hasn’t it?” You grin, batting your eyelashes as he smiled back at you, sickeningly sweet as he refilled your glass like a true gentleman.

“You look great tonight.” He says, leading you over to a nearby table to sit and catch up.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Number One Hero.” You tease, sitting after Izuku pulled out your chair. Izuku laughed sheepishly, having a seat next to you.

“Stop. I’m just plain old Deku.” He chuckles, raising his glass to toast with you. As the night went on, the spiked punch started to make you pay more attention to Izuku’s matured appearance.

He sat up tall, broad shoulders and big scarred hands as he took another sip from his glass. You watch closely as his lips wrap around the rim, wishing it were your pussy instead as your thighs clench unconsciouslly.

Your clit throbs as you watch him interact with all your other friends who had joined you at the table, his charming smile and velvety laugh making your heart run a million miles a minute. Izuku himself had fallen victim to the affects of the alcohol you both consumed, Izuku’s glance diverted towards the necklace you wore which hung teasingly above your delicious cleavage.

His palms sweat a little at the thought of your pebbled nipples pressed against his chest as he drilled you into the table in front of you both. Izuku’s eyes follow your curves as you sat, thighs squished and thick as your dress hung just above your knees.

What a sorry excuse for a dress, he thought. It’d be a shame if someone were to hike it up a bit to show off that ass he loved watching walk by in class. In a fit of lust Izuku mindlessly palms at your thighs under the table, darting his eyes up at you to see if you liked the feeling of his hands on you.

Boy did you. You bit your lip, your cunt aching as his hand grabs at your inner thigh and caressing the soft skin. He kept the conversation going with his old classmates, his hands palming at your panties as he hooks his fingers along the hem. His smile was so deceiving; innocent and friendly to mask the lewd actions he was performing just under their noses. You gasp, his fingers running along your clothed slit.

“Are you alright, Y/N? You look a little hot.” Izuku asks, keeping up his sham as he points out your heavy breathing. You nod, ensuring everything is fine as you feel his hands move your panties aside. You almost yelp when his fingers gather your slick, prodding against your weeping hole as he chatted with Todoroki about a mission they were on together. You turn your face away from the table, eyes crossing when he slips his digits inside you.

The agony of his assault on your pussy almost made you blow your cover, a mewl slipping past your lips as you gasp with every thrust of his hand; thankful the music and chatter concealed your whine. You turn back to the table and look up at Izuku again, who was already staring at your body’s every move with dark green eyes. He leans down towards your ear and whispers to you so sweetly you almost faint.

“Get up and leave the table, I’ll be right behind you.” His hands slid out of your panties, your mouth whining at the loss as you get up and excuse yourself. You tell everyone you’re going to the bathroom and walk out of the gym. You stand in the hallway and wait for Midoriya to come out, your mind racing as you try to process what the fuck just happened back there.

You couldn’t deny you always had a soft spot for Deku but you would have never thought those feelings would be requited. Shortly, Izuku walks out of the gym, inching towards you to pin you up against the wall.

“You’re so naughty. Letting me finger you under the table while I talk to our friends. You know what naughty girls get, right?” Izuku hums, forehead resting on yours as he ghosts his lips over your glossed ones. “I can’t wait to smear your makeup all over that pretty face of yours.”

You shudder at his words, Izuku leading you by the hand all the way to the end of the hall, an empty classroom seeming to be the perfect place to ruin you. You kiss each other with fervor, grabbing at each other’s bodies as breathy moans and gasps are exchanged. Izuku lifts you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as walks towards the empty teacher’s desk. He carefully sits you down, standing between your legs as his hands unzip your dress.

“Been wanting to see these since I met you.” Izuku coos, eagerly pulling your dress down to reveal your bra, your tits sitting pretty as his hands grab at them both. Your pussy started to ache again when he pulled your bra down, bare breasts pebbling in the cold air of the room.

And to make matters worse he was being so dominant, his sweet and charming disposition replaced with feral lust. “Izu- ah- w-we shouldn’t do this here.” You whine, lying to yourself about how badly you wanted him to take you on that desk, his fingers pinching your nipples harshly.

“Oh but you were so wet earlier. I could feel that greedy pussy sucking my fingers in deep. You’re not a very good liar, Y/N.” Izuku mocked, pulling your panties down. “Be a good girl and lemme taste you, hm?” Izuku crumpled up your panties in his hands and shoved them into your mouth, pushing you enough to make you lay across the desk.

Your legs fly open, Izuku’s face making its way towards your dripping cunt with that saccharine grin on his face. He knew he was about to devour you until you forget where you are, your moans and the feeling of his tongue delving deep inside your gummy walls the only things you can fixate on. He couldn’t wait to hear those pretty moans loud and clear, his lips meeting your pussy to sloppily make out with it, tongue kissing your clit with a groan at the taste of your sweet juices. Your back arched off the desk, hands flying into his hair as his lip trapped your clit in between the plush flesh and suckled gently.

“I-Izu-Izuku!” You slurr, his tongue reaching deeper bounds as he slid the muscle inside, wanting to draw more distorted noises from you, his final accolade for all he’s achieved at his young age.

You near your end, high pitched whines muted by your panties filling your mouth, shaking and convulsing as you drool all over them. Midoriya burned that image of you into his mind, your eyes almost forming hearts in their irises as he fucked you with his tongue. He groans against your skin, so eager he’s unzipping his pants before you can cum in his mouth.

“Uh-uh. I wanna feel your pussy creaming all over my dick, baby.” Midoriya huffed, pulling his length out of his boxers. You stare up at him with hazy eyes, tears streaming down smearing all your mascara, lipstick probably beyond repair too. He’s inside you before you can think, air unknown to you as he dived deep in your needy pussy without a second to inhale, to get your barings. You’re a spectical, moaning so much you almost drop your makeshift gag, Izuku’s fingers lodging your panties back inside.

“Don’t want our classmates to hear you screaming right baby?” Izuku says into your neck, sloppy kisses in time with his brutal thrusts into your spongiest spots. You’re sobbing, pussy making raunchy sounds as you claw at his back, cresent shapes showing proudly as Izuku worked you with his thickness.

“Oooh listen to you baby. Sound so pretty for me.” Izuku panted, taking your hardened nipple into his mouth as his eyes watched yours roll to the back of your head as he hit your cervix, smirking at your reaction. He hits that spot over and over again, the white hot pleasure so overwhelming you’re drooling all over your chin, throat hoarse from all the silent screams you let out into your panties that were practically lodged down your throat.

“Fuhhhhh!!” You slurr, clenching around his cock furiously, pussy drooling all over his dick as you came hard.

“Yeahhhhh. That pussy’s so fuckin good baby. Wan’ me to cum inside you? Yeah I’m gonna cum deep inside that cunt, give me another, c’mon gimme another!” Izuku grunts, hips pistoning as your legs are pressed against your chest, stroking deeply as he rubbed lazy circles into your clit.

You babble into the gag, so overwheled you have no idea what to do with your hands going from holding on to the desk for dear life and pushing at Izuku’s abs as a way to beg him slow down, to let you breathe but to no avail. You feel yourself completely lose control of your body, thighs seeming to vibrate as you hiccup and whine your way into another blinding orgasm. Izuku leans down and kisses your forehead as if to apologize for the brutality, splurting hot globs of his sticky cum inside you and panting into your hair. You lay back on the desk, gasping as Izuku pulled your panties out of your mouth.

“Our friends are probably looking for us, baby. We should get you fixed up before we go back out there. ” Izuku laughs, gesturing towards your completely undone hair and runny makeup.

You pull your panties back up over your ass, Midoriya’s thick cum leaking out of your cunt when you stood from the desk with weak legs.

Izuku turns to you and zips your dress back up, kissing your shoulder as you look around for your other heel. Honestly, you’re speechless. You don’t know what to make of what just happened, Izuku promising he’ll confess his feelings properly, take you out on a nice date when you’re alone again as he wiped the tears from your cheek. You nod softly, smiling when Izuku kissed your forehead, already knowing you want to have sex with Izuku just like that for the rest of your natural life.

[parker-razor]

many a dream about you

afab!reader x mando (no y/n)

5.2k words, 18+, EXPLICIT!! 

warnings: SMUT (extended warnings under the cut), mentions of injuries, unprotected sex (use protection!), very little editing

summary: when you and mando are forced to share a bed together, you end up having a dream that reveals more than you had hoped...

author’s notes: ahhhh! this is my first fic!! i’ll be honest, i got so excited i wrote most of this in one sitting. indulge me in some of my favorite smutty tropes about everyone’s favorite space dad!

extended warnings: oral (f receiving), wet dreams, thigh grinding, mentions of rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation... i think that’s it

*****

Stars, you were exhausted.

You had just spent three weeks on the Razor Crest with the only bed available to you being a cheap mattress that might as well have just been a sack stuffed with sand. On top of the little sleep you were running on, you had just finished loading three bounties onto the Crest and into carbonite while Mando patched himself up. Dragging three grown men onto the ship and freezing them took all the strength out of you.

You finally collapsed into the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, catching your breath and giving your muscles a well-deserved break. Your eyes flutter closed as your body decompresses from the hard work and no sleep it’s been put through these past weeks. Mando had hired you just a month ago to look after the ship while he was away on hunts. Not to mention the little green gremlin he had adopted as his own, who kept you company and looked to you to get taken care of. It was much better than the life you had known; growing up on the outskirts of Tatooine was hard enough as is, but when your little shop had been pillaged and ransacked, you had nothing left on the small, desert planet. Mando had shown up just in time, sitting next to you in a dive bar.

*****

You had never seen one of his kind before, and to be honest, you were overwhelmed with the way he carried himself. He was big, towering over everyone he passed on his way to the barstools. You wondered why he even bothered if he couldn’t remove his helmet to drink, but you’d never ask. He sat himself just a few stools from yours, and after stealing a few glances with flushed cheeks, you finally opened your mouth to say something.

“Bounty hunters like you must be pretty busy on a planet like this,” you said, trying to talk over the loud band playing in the corner. “Not too many upstanding people tend to find themselves here.”

Slowly turning his helmet to face you, the Mandalorian said, “What does that say about you?”

Damn, you thought, he was quick to the draw.

“It’s not exactly my choice to live here. I’d give anything to get off this ball of sand.”

He says nothing, just turns his helmet forward again. You figure that’s the end of that, at least you tried. You can now say that you’ve talked to a Mandalorian before.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks. “Anything?”

You whip your head towards him, trying to figure out where this was going. Of course you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to come off too eager in case he wasn’t serious.

“I mean, what do you have in mind?” you ask, trying to act as calm as possibly, but you couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of leaving.

“I have… a son. He’s very small and can’t take care of himself yet. I don’t like taking him hunting, but I can’t leave him on the ship by himself,” he pauses, piecing together his words carefully. “I need someone to look after him.”

“So, I’d be his babysitter?”

“And ship sitter. Just keep it clean, nothing complicated.”

You pretended to ponder his proposition, but you knew you’d say yes almost immediately. There was nothing left for you here; no family, no livelihood, no friends. This was the best deal you had gotten in a long time. Except…

“So, what do I get in return?”

“I’d pay you, as much as I can afford. But you’d have your own bed and food.”

You’re sold.

*****

You’re brought back to the present when you hear Mando’s footsteps ascend the ladder to the cockpit. The child is holding onto him, smiling when he sees your face.

“How bad are you hurt?” you ask cautiously.

“I’ll live. Just a gash.”

“Well, I got the bounties in carbonite. But I gotta say Mando, I don’t know if I can sleep another night in a row on that shitty mattress.” He says nothing, and you haven’t figured out if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you making room for me! I’m just saying, I think we both need a proper rest tonight, especially after today,” you backtrack. You hear him sigh, nodding his head in agreement.

“Alright. I passed an inn on the way back here. Let’s see if they have any vacancy, hopefully with a bed better than the one you have.” You blush, embarrassed that you came off as ungrateful.

Mando was a mystery to you. He was quiet, a man of few words. It was especially hard trying to read him without being able to see any facial cues or expressions. Nevertheless, something about him exuded strength. He was much taller than you, but he was also just… big. Especially with all the beskar adding a whole other layer of strength. You couldn’t explain the attraction you felt for him. Something about how he towered over you, his visor boring into your face made you weak in the knees. How could you feel this way for someone who you’d barely talked to, let alone never seen their face?

He made you feel weak, but for some reason you liked that. Growing up on your home planet, you had to learn to fight for yourself. You were strong, with curves and muscles that showed just how tough life had made you. You never let a man make you feel less than or weak, always ready to defend yourself. But you liked that Mando made you feel small. It made no sense, but it also made perfect sense.

Sometimes at night, you’d let your hands wander. One hand wandered up to your face, whether to bite down on a finger or cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, and the other down the front of your pants. Being around Mando so much made it difficult to wait until after he fell asleep to take care of the burning need you felt for him. You had your fair share of flings with the boys in your village, but none of them made you feel the way Mando did. With the most subtle actions he could make a heat blossom in your stomach and goosebumps spread over your arms. Sometimes the way he’d fly the Crest made you clench your thighs together; he looked so in charge in that pilot’s seat. Rubbing tight circles on your clit, clenching around nothing while angling your hips just right, you would be sent into orbit at the thought of his hands taking care of you instead.

After you and Mando had packed up your essentials, you got Grogu into his pram and headed off to the village nearby. You had no idea what planet you were on, but the flowering trees brought some joy to you. In the past weeks travelling with Mando, you had seen so many new things. You had never once left your home, and things like trees and streams had you in awe. You would never get used to how it made you feel.

The village was small, and it didn’t seem like there was anything else around for miles. You got to the motel, one of the larger buildings in the area. The lobby was small and surprisingly clean, much cleaner than the interior of the Crest. An older woman, the innkeeper you presumed, stood at the desk.

“We’d like two rooms. How much would that be?” Mando asked, not interested in entertaining niceties.

“So sorry sir, we only have one room available. A few of our rooms are under renovation, and there’s only one unoccupied that is fit to house anyone,” the woman said with a sickly sweet smile.

Mando sighed, obviously conflicted with the choice laid in front of him. He turned to you for your input.

“I- I don’t mind sharing a room. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just thought it be nice to escape the ship for the night.” You rushed your words out, feeling shy at the prospect of sharing the room with Mando. He had his own quarters on the ship, and you had yours, if you could even consider them quarters. After a few beats, Mando put some credits on the desk, and took the key the woman was offering.

Pushing down the excitement you felt, you grabbed your things that you had set down and followed Mando to your room. It’s not like you hadn’t been living in close proximity with Mando for the past few weeks anyways.

But this was different.

And you didn’t fully realize why it was so different until you opened the door to your room and saw that there was only one queen sized bed. Your jaw dropped, as you looked to Mando for his reaction. Nothing, as usual. He just walked into the room as if nothing had changed.

How was this gonna go? Were you just supposed to… share? The bed wasn’t puny, plenty of room for the both of you. But this was crossing a line that you didn’t even realize had been established. You didn’t really know much about each other and hadn’t been acquainted for very long. Not to mention the burning need you felt for him growing day by day.

And now you had to share a bed with him. No big deal.

Grogu’s cries for attention brought you out of your reverie of thoughts. You picked him up from his pram and placed him on the bed, allowing him to take in the room. The love and affection for the child had grown immensely since Mando had first introduced the two of you. You were initially shocked at how silently affectionate Mando was with him. You had never expected him to be the paternal type. You had yet to learn how the curious pair had found each other; a small part of you wondered if Mando looked similar to the child under his mask.

Mando had set his things on the chair in the corner and mumbled something about using the refresher. And as quickly as the door shut, you heard the shower turn on and the sound of beskar hitting the floor.

The realization that Mando was maskless, naked, just a few feet away sent a shockwave through your body. Was he tan? Did he have blond or brown hair? Was he truly strong or did the beskar just add extra bulk? You imagined he had scars littering his body, with chest hair dusting his front. The thought of it trailing down beneath his pants sent a shiver down your spine. Stars, your mind was in the gutter.

The sun had set, and Grogu’s eyes started to flutter and shut on one of the pillows on the bed. You picked him up and cradled him, resting your cheek to his. You savored moments like this; the ones that made your heart warm and full of comforting joy. Grogu’s breathing slowed, letting out snores every once in a while. You heard the shower shut off, and carefully placed Grogu into his pram, closing the top for him to sleep in peace.  

Mando stepped out of the refresher in a thin pair of sleep trousers, a similar shirt and, of course, his helmet. Your gaze made you realize that he was definitely not wearing underwear, not leaving much to the imagination. You felt your face heat up as you looked anywhere but at him, almost positive that your face has turned as red as the setting sun.

“Your turn,” Mando said as he sauntered to the chair in the corner. He placed his things on the ground, sat in the chair, and crossed his arms as if to get comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping over there, are you?” you asked.

“I… just assumed… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Your blush was back with a vengeance.

“I don’t mind. We got this room to relax, and you sure as hell don’t seem at ease with the way you’re sitting.” He said nothing for a few moments before sighing and standing to walk over towards the bed.

Oh Maker, this is actually happening, you thought. What act was more intimate than sharing a bed with someone? Well, there was the obvious one, but…

You scurried to the washroom, desperate to cool yourself down and collect your thoughts. This didn’t have to be a big deal, and if you kept acting all standoffish like you had been, you’d chase Mando away with the bizarre energy you were emitting.

You splashed cold water on your face to calm your blush, brushed your teeth with vigor, and changed into your pajamas. Granted, they were much scantier than the ideal, but you hadn’t expected to be sharing a bed, let alone a room, with the Mandalorian.

Stepping out of the refresher, you see Mando lying in bed with the lamplight on. Maker, you wanted to nothing but climb in with him and lay on his chest…

His chest. This was the first time you’d seen him without all that bulky armor. Through his thin clothing you could tell he was strong, with broad shoulders and contoured muscle. His helmet turned towards you, and what you didn’t know was that he was eyeing you in your not-so-modest sleep clothes as well.

What you didn’t know was how Mando gazed at you when you held the child, cooing at him as he gently tugged on your hair or stroked your cheek. His helmet protected him from you finding out how often he stared at you in adoration. Your curves, your smile, your silent strength. Stars, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But what you saw when he looked at you was a silent T-visor staring at you with no emotion.

After a beat, your gaze met the floor as you walked to the other side of the bed, closest to the window. You crawled under the covers, waiting for some quick comment or a reaction from the man next to you. Finally, he spoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want me in the chair?” he asked.

“Stars, Mando, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d want to be as far away from me as possible,” you responded, embarrassed.

“That’s- no, not at all. I, uh, just wanted you to feel comfortable,” he stumbled. You had never seen him so lost for words, so taken back.

“I promise, Mando, if anything I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” Oh Maker, why did you just say that? That was the most upfront you’d been with him. Just as you were about to take back your words…

“I feel the same,” he responded quietly. Stars, if your heart didn’t explode at his words.

It was quiet for a few moments, until you said, “Well… goodnight Mando.”

“Goodnight.” He turned off the lamplight and shuffled deeper under the blankets. You were unsure if you should stay as close to the edge as possible or be truly comfortable and let yourself get a little closer to Mando. Before you could make up your mind, exhaustion overtook you and you drifted to sleep.

*****

Mando stirred in your sleep, disturbed by something he hadn’t recognized yet. As he continued to drift in and out of sleep, he heard something that he wasn’t sure was a part of a dream or reality.

Quiet mumblings came from your side of the bed, mixed with indistinguishable groans. His instincts kicked in, becoming fully awake to survey the room for any threats. It took him a moment to realize that as you slept, you had moved closer to Mando – much closer.

Your leg was draped over his torso, with your chest pressed to his side and your arm resting on his chest. But what he noticed most was the way your hips rolled, your core grinding against the side of his thigh. Looking at your face, he could tell you were asleep. Your breaths grew heavier, quiet groans turning into moans. Mando felt his pants grow tighter, not know whether or not to wake you from your obvious wet dream.

Mando froze when he heard you say his name while your hips sped up. “M-Mando, don’t stop… Please…” Fuck, you were dreaming about him. He wanted nothing more than to rub the growing problem in his pants, but he knew that crossed a line.

As your breath started to hitch, he could tell you were getting close. Just as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, breathing heavily while taking in what was going on.

You looked down at the scene you had caused, rendered speechless. Flooded with humiliation, you jumped out of bed and ran to the refresher as Mando shouted your name. You slammed the refresher door and locked it, tears springing to your eyes. Fuck fuck fuck, this was bad. Did you just ruin everything? Mando must hate you now.

“Please open the door, I’m not mad. Let’s just talk,” Mando said through the door, not wanting to reveal how he felt behind a slab of wood. You said nothing, feeling utterly mortified. There’s no way you could look him in the eye (well, helmet) after getting yourself off on his thigh in your sleep. Fuck.

After twenty minutes of Mando trying to convince you that he wasn’t upset and he just wanted to talk, he gave up. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor and went back to sit on the bed. Though the tension in his pants had gone down, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made. He looked down to see that you had left a wet spot on his leg, causing him to groan. He had to stop himself from thinking that way, at least for right now while you were upset.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were in shock. You tried your best to recount what had happened, but it didn’t help that you were asleep for most of it. The dream you were having a blur; Mando on top of you, and the intense feeling of being filled to the brim. Then, you remember waking up to Mando staring down at you, putting two and two together, and that was that.

You realized that Mando was awake before you were, which means he was watching you… do that to him. He didn’t try to wake you up or stop you. He was watching you get off. That had to mean… he liked it. He liked seeing you like that. Right?

You slowly stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping the tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you calmed your bedhead and opened the washroom door, rounding the corner to face Mando sitting on the bed.

He looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at as he sat deep in thought.

“Are- are you okay?” he asked, uncertain of what he should say.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I was asleep and I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable,” you admit, eyes glued to the floor. A few moments of deafening silence pass, with you shuffling in the spot where you stood and Mando’s helmet fixed towards you.

“What did you dream about?” Mando asked quietly. The Mandalorian was normally so stoic and strong in his conviction that to hear his voice quiver in nervousness made your gaze shoot up to his.

“It’s… embarrassing. I don’t want you to think less of me.” Your face turned beet red, a trait of yours you didn’t realize you possessed until you met Mando. He was the first person to make you feel shy and flustered.

“I won’t, I promise. I just want to know… I need to know.”

“It was… about me. And you.” Mando rose to walk over to where you were standing, near the foot of the bed.

“What about us, exactly? You can tell me. Tell me everything.” You hesitated to meet his gaze, eyes wide and nervous.

“You were… on me. In me. All over me.” You felt yourself getting breathless as Mando got closer to you, as you retold your dream without getting too graphic yet still admitting that you had dreamt of him taking you.

“And was I gentle, or was I rough?” Mando’s voice grew husky, just as breathless as you. Maker, his voice made you weak at the knees.

“Gentle, at first. But the longer you went you got rougher. Much rougher.” Your voice dropped into a whisper as Mando found himself right in front of you, almost chest to chest. Your eyes dropped to admire his chest, what it’d look like without his shirt. You wanted to trace every scar that marked his skin, kiss him, bite him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, drawing your gaze from his chest to his helmet.

“And which did you like better? Tell me,” he whispered through the modulator, but there was no filtering out how deep and raspy his voice had gotten, like you had never heard before.

“I… I was just happy you were touching me,” you whispered, in shock that this wasn’t just another dream. His hand drifted from your chin to your neck, caressing every inch of you. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that he was touching you without his gloves on.

Suddenly, both hands came to your waist and pulled you into his chest, your hands finding their place on his chest. You whimpered, never feeling so small, not knowing why you liked it so much.

“Do you want me to touch you, sweet one? Like I did in your dream?” he rasped.

“Please… please touch me, Mando.” He groaned at that, manhandling you so your back turned to the bed and quickly thrown onto the bed.

“I like hearing you beg, love. Beg some more for me.” You whimpered, flushed and embarrassed but in the best way. Mando yanked at your legs so they were hanging off the bed with him standing between your knees. His hands drifted from your stomach up to your breasts, squeezing them while his thumbs rubbed your hardened nipples through your shirt.

Unable to take it any longer, you sat up and yanked your shirt over your head as Mando did the same. His expanse of muscle was all you could think about, the thatches of chest hair made you want to run your hands all over him.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, playing with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“Tell me, did I eat this sweet pussy of yours in your dream?” You moaned, unable to remember but wanting his mouth on you all the same.

“I want you to, but your helmet…” Mando grabbed the blanket that was at the end of the bed, throwing it so one end covered your stomach and the other fell near the middle of his back. Awkwardly, you saw him maneuver under the blanket to take his helmet off, and then your shorts.

Before you could say so much as a “please,” Mando’s mouth enveloped your cunt with his hot mouth. Your gasp was loud and ragged, not expecting him to feel this good. You felt him moan into you, licking from your hole up to the tip of your clit.

“Am I the one who made you this wet, my sweet one? You’re dripping onto the bed for me,” you heard him rasp under the blankets.

“Please, Mando, you feel so f-fucking good,” you gasp as he puts his mouth on you again. You reach under the blanket to grab his hair to pull him the exact spots you wanted his mouth to be. Maker, his mouth was immaculate. His tongue messily toyed with your clit, groaning in your cunt when you tugged his hair which sent vibrations everywhere.

When he found that one spot, just to the left of your clit, you started to feel that familiar tension in your stomach, the one you’d get when you’d touch yourself in the silence of night in the Crest. You tilted your hips just right as he sucked your clit into your mouth, letting out an animalistic moan.

As soon as you felt him hum into your cunt again, you were gone. You fell over a cliff higher than ever before as everything went utterly white, white in your vision and white noise in your ears.

Maker, you came so fucking hard. And through the whole thing, Mando licked and sucked at you, slowing down when you eventually came down. You felt like you were floating through the aftermath as Mando kissed the inside of your thighs, and through the reverie you were in you felt the tickle of facial hair on your skin. You smiled to yourself, finally able to know something about the appearance of the man you adored so.

Mando quickly put his helmet back on under the blanket before pulling himself over you, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

“Do you want more? Or do you want me to stop?” he asked. As spent as you felt, at the sound of his voice your body began rearing up for more.

“More. I need your cock, Mando, so badly,” you whimpered, feeling a brand new wave of wetness flood at the apex of your legs.

You picked your head up, finally wrenching your eyes open as you felt Mando start to take his pants off. You were very suddenly awake again when you saw his cock spring out. He was big, bigger than the boys you had taken by far.

“I- I don’t know if you’ll fit. I’ve never had a man bigger than you.”

“No, sweet one, you’ve only had boys. I can’t wait to be the first man who wrecks you,” he rasps into your ears as your hands wrap themselves around his neck and down his back. Stars, he was sexy, an odd mix of shy and domineering all at once.

He started rubbing the tip against your cunt, and suddenly you were on fire again. You had never tried to get yourself again after one orgasm, always too spent and high on dopamine to go again. So you never got to realize that once you had one, more orgasms were not very difficult to achieve. Until, Mando’s tip swirled around your clit and you could feel the coil tighten yet again.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, causing him to groan and only put more pressure on your clit.

“Then do it, my love. I want to see your face when you cum for me.” You let out a series of curses until you came again, slightly weaker than the previous one but it rocked through you. Before you could even come down, Mando thrusted himself into you in one go. You let out a yell bordering on a scream, feeling your pussy stretch itself to fit all of him. Stars, the burn of the stretch made you shiver.

“Oh f-fuck, my sweet girl has an even sweeter pussy,” he gasped as he started to thrust himself into you. “S-so fucking t-tight and w-warm, I’m not gonna last…”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Mando’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you at an unfathomable rate.

“No no, look at me. Look at me while I’m making you feel good,” Mando growled as he grabbed your cheeks to make you look at his helmet. You tried so hard to keep your eyes open, but as Mando tilted his hips just right, jamming into your G-spot, you lost control over your body. You were saying something, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t decipher what it was.

“Is that- fuck- all you can say, pretty girl? Please? Please what? What do you need, fuck I’ll give you everything you want, just say the word,” Mando rambled, just as drunk on your pussy as you were on his cock.

“D-d-don’t stop, p-please don’t s-stop,” you uttered out, not completely sure if you were having one long orgasm or if it was building to something even bigger.

“I’m never gonna stop, baby, never wanna stop…” Without warning, an orgasm so strong racked through your body. You had never cum just from penetration before, but the way the hair at the base of Mando’s cock was brushing against your cunt as he fucked you sent you beyond the edge.

“Oh my fucking- stars, baby you’re so tight I can barely move… I-I’m gonna-“ Mando gasped as you felt him cum deep inside you, moaning louder than you thought he would.

You both gasped for breath, utterly exhausted from the best sex in both of your lives. Mando pulled out and laid next you on the bed, stroking your hair gently.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” you croaked, voice almost gone from overuse. Silence fell over the two of you, and you wanted to take back your words, until…

“Close your eyes. And don’t open them. Promise?” he said.

“I promise, I swear I won’t,” you said, shutting your eyes with your heart leaping at the prospect of finally kissing him. After a few moments of the sounds of shuffling next to you, you felt a soft pair of lips meet yours. It was tentative at first, but after a few gentle pecks Mando caressed your face and kissed you with a passion so strong it took your breath away. You felt his mustache tickle your upper lip as he kissed like if he pulled away, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When he finally pulled away, you reminded yourself to keep your eyes closed as he put his helmet back on. You pulled yourself over him, almost in the exact position you had found yourself in when you woke up from your dream, except this time Mando’s arm was draped under your neck.

“I’m glad we finally did that,” Mando admitted after a while. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day you started living on the Crest.” You lifted your head from his chest and rested your chin on his right pec, gazing at his face.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You grinned from ear to ear, thanking the Maker that this wasn’t just because Mando was horny and he had found you getting yourself off on him. He had wanted you, too.

“For a minute I thought…I thought you’d tell me to leave and never come back. I was so embarrassed to wake up like that. But… I guess it ended up helping us out,” you chuckled. You heard Mando chuckle too as his chest shook a bit, warming your heart.

“I will never ask you to leave. I want you to stay, I need you to stay,” he admitted quietly. “Plus, I don’t know anyone else who would take care of Grogu so well.”

“Oh, Maker, Grogu!” you exclaimed, realizing Grogu had been closed in his pram in the corner throughout the entire… act.

“The device is soundproof, he didn’t hear a thing,” Mando explained. You let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know, with those ears?” you laughed, hearing Mando laugh with you.

“Maybe they’re more for balance rather than hearing,” Mando replied, causing you to let out a loud laugh, making joy flood Mando’s body.

“We can only hope…”

[otonymous]

Glutton For Your Flavour (Obey Me: Beelzebub - NSFW)

Description: You’re about to become Beel’s next meal Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.  Spoilers for Lesson 5 of MS (hard).  Please note potential trigger warnings: dub-con (as an inadvertent result of somnambulism), cunnilingus in two flavours (soft and rough), squirting and overstimulation, slight size kink, very faint hints of tetraphilia, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blasphemy, slight fear (monstrous descriptions) Word Count: ~2900 words (~14 mins of smut & shenanigans) Author’s Notes:  My very first fic for the Obey Me fandom!  I know I’m late to the party, but I’ve recently started playing this game and the story and its characters are so amusing I had to write about it.  This piece may not be to everyone’s taste, so please, please, please note the potential trigger warnings listed above and skip if it’s not your cup of tea.  That being said, hope you all enjoy the read! 💕😆

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“Bad luck to be sharing a room with Beel, but what can ya do after he destroyed yours while destroying the kitchen, and all for a dumb custard!  Be careful — he might mistake you for a snack and eat ya in the middle of the night, hahaha!”

Mmm.

The scene fragments, Mammon’s face wavering as his voice grows faint, consciousness seeping into dark corners like sunlight cutting through fog.  And when you open your eyes, you can’t quite place where you are for a moment, straddling the line between dreamscape and reality.

Ahh…

You sigh.  There it was again, the sensation so pleasant it had roused you from the deepest slumber.

Further blinking off the haze of sleep, you take in your surroundings: a large bed lying empty across from yours in a room almost cavernous in size and just as dark save for a candle burning low on a desk, the glow of its flame orange like the hair that was currently brushing soft against your inner thighs—

“BEEL?!  WHAT THE HELL?!”  

“So tasty…not…enough…need more…want to…eat…zzz….”

Eyes still closed, the demon’s face is shiny even in the dark, slick from cheek to chin with what must’ve been a copious amount of his saliva and your arousal, you blush to realize.  And when he doesn’t budge even after a swift kick to the face, you are ashamed to find the Lord of Flies’ show of strength sending yet another throb to your already pulsing clit.

He does wake though, Beelzebub’s amethyst eyes opening wide before he falls backwards onto the cold stone floor to realize what he had inadvertently done in his sleep.  And as the always-famished sixth born looks from the shredded remnants of your panties to the pool of wetness on the sheets where his chin had rested, he becomes even more tongue-tied than usual.

“I…uh…I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to…I dreamt I smelled something delicious and I was so hungry…and somehow I’m here, on the floor…I don’t even know…I-I’m so sorry!”

His cheeks grow so flushed they remind you of the red spider sandwiches he packed away during dinner, stuffing them two by two into his mouth until Satan smacked his hand away for trying to take more from his plate.  The expression on his face is so full of remorse that even if you were angry, you’d be inclined to forgive the demon who was currently grovelling at the foot of your bed, swearing he would hand himself over to Lucifer and Diavolo first thing in the morning to be strung up and hung upside down for a fortnight, even (gulp) forgoing food for a day or two.

“Beelzebub…Beel…BEEL!”  You shout, interrupting his self-inflicted tirade.  “It’s okay, you didn’t mean it.  You were sleepwalking.  You don’t have to go to Lucifer and Diavolo about this.”

“No, I have to.  My behaviour was inexcusable—”

“BEEL!  Let’s…just…try to go back to sleep, okay?  We have our midterm in Devildom law tomorrow morning and I really don’t feel like failing just because I didn’t get enough shut eye.  So please, can we just pretend like this didn’t happen?”

Those orange brows are still furrowed when Beel finally lifts his head and nods.  But then his gaze is falling again on the wet sheets and the shiver than runs through that larger-than-life body seems to send another wave of anxiety through the demon.  He makes a mad dash for the door, murmuring something about getting a snack from the kitchen and “you can have the room tonight” before it slams shut behind him.

He doesn’t return for the rest of the night.

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The exam was so disastrous even Mammon didn’t bother sneaking another peek at your paper after the first two questions.  And even if you had somehow managed to get back to sleep after last night’s ordeal, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that you were still distracted by the memory of Beel’s mouth on your pussy:

His long tongue, serpentine as it delved deep between swollen folds to taste you with gusto.  

The way he rolled your clit between those plush, soft lips before sucking it into his hot mouth, over and over again.  

The throbbing between your legs that refused to cease long after the Avatar of Gluttony had left the room you were temporarily sharing, sleep only forthcoming once you had succumbed and reached beneath the sheets to finish the job he had started, your moans licentious even to your ears as you pretended your fingers were his.

It was a pale imitation, of course.  That much you could see for yourself, stealing a glance at Beel seated two rows down — quill twirling between long, dexterous digits when he wasn’t putting ink to parchment.

But those gigantic hands were just a small part of what made Beel demonically attractive, as if the word “small” could be applied to him at all: tall and built, there were times when even you envied the ease with which he maintained that perfect physique despite his penchant for shovelling enough food to feed all three realms into his mouth on the regular.

The same mouth which brought you so much pleasure the night before.

Ahem.

Clearing your throat, you pretend not to see the smirk that spreads across Asmo’s delicate face, hoping the lusty demon sitting just to your left wouldn’t pick up on the very secret thoughts you were having about his brother.

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[Private Chatroom]: Satan, Levi, Mammon, Asmo

Satan: This is going to sound crazy, but doesn’t it seem like Beel’s…hungrier than usual?  Is that even possible?

Levi: OMFG!  You should’ve seen the state of the kitchen this morning after Beel decided to camp out there overnight!  It was a total war zone, like that epic battle scene in Vol. 5 of TSL lololol.  Soooo good XDDDDD

Mammon:  Hey!  He’s gonna eat us outta house and home at this rate!  Shouldn’t we stop him?

Satan: You do it, Mammon.  Aren’t you always saying that there’s nothing The Great Mammon can’t do?

Mammon: …..

Asmo: Please, as if anyone — angel or demon — could come between Beel and a meal.  

Satan: Why was he camping out there in the first place?  Was there something wrong with his room?  I don’t remember him complaining about anything since he got shacked up with the exchange student.

Levi: Not like he could, seeing as it was his fault to begin with and a direct order from Lucifer.

Asmo: Maybe we should ask her.  I’m sure she knows something about what’s inciting his hunger judging by the way she kept staring at him in class today fufufu 😏  She almost failed her midterm because of it, isn’t that right, Mammon?

Mammon: ‼️‼️

[Mammon has left the chat]

Levi: He is sooooo transparent LMFAOOOO

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Gasp!

Pressing a hand to your mouth, you try to contain your shock at the sight that greets you when you peek around the corner into the kitchen:

Curved, ebony horns sitting majestically atop a head of disheveled orange hair.  Thick, corded muscles that ripple across a broad back — readily apparently because the creature bent over a mountain of food on the ground was wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms, loose and slung so low over narrow hips that the sharp V defining his groin is visible even from the distance at which you stood.  

Because this wasn’t quite what you were expecting to find when you made your way to the kitchen in the middle of the night to search for Beel, thinking to approach him about the peculiarity of his recent behaviour: the way he now ate constantly and was less satiated than before, the fact that he seemed to be going out of his way to avoid you even though you shared a room.

In fact, he hadn’t said so much as another word to you after he gave you two dozen of his prized custards the morning after the incident, apologizing again until you had to be the one to make him swear he wouldn’t breathe a word of it to Lucifer.  The demon even made a beeline for the door as soon as he saw you emerge from the bathroom tonight, fresh from a shower.

It wasn’t hard to guess where he was headed.

Even still, you tried to focus on your textbook, reading the same line over and over again as you waited for Beel to return so you could have a proper conversation with the demon you made a pact with.  And when you could wait no longer, you made your way towards his favourite room in the House of Lamentation — silently, so as not to draw the attention of the eldest sibling.

But the growls coming from the direction of the open fridge this time sounded like Cerberus himself, enough so that you find yourself rooted to the ground, unable to take another step forwards or back.  

You had never seen Beel like this before, tearing into whatever he could get his hands on with a savagery that made your heart stop.  Teeth, lips and tongue devoured without second thought in a way that was simultaneously terrifying and…

Throb.

…arousing.

Suddenly, he stills, throwing his head back to sniff the air once…twice…and in a flash, he is upon you, towering over your head as he rises to full height — bigger and taller and much more intimidating than you’ve ever seen him before.

You should have been scared.  Any person in their right mind would have if they found themselves cornered by a demon of Beelzebub’s calibre.  But the hands that balled into trembling fists at his sides made you feel oddly secure, your deepest instincts telling you that not all was as it seemed.

“You need to leave.  Now…please.”

“What’s going on with you, Beel?  I just want to help—”  You reach for his arm.  He jumps back as if burned.

“I SAID YOU NEED TO LEAVE!  I-I…can’t hold back…for…much longer!”

Handsome face screwed up as if in pain, Beel turns to put as much distance as possible between the two of you, squatting on his haunches with his head in his hands when he murmurs:

“I…I don’t know what’s going on with me.  This has never happened before.  I’m hungrier than I’ve ever been.  I eat and eat and eat and it still isn't enough.  The last time I felt satisfied was when…when…”

His voice dies down to a whisper.

“…when I tasted you.”

Throb.

Putting out a hand, you steady yourself against the wall, knees suddenly weak at Beelzebub’s admission.  Or perhaps it was due to relief, the tension that had been steadily building in your strained relationship with the demon released to know that you weren’t the only one who desired to revisit that night’s events.

So you gather your courage, stepping softly towards the demon who crouched on the ground next to the lit fireplace, the heat radiating from the hearth warming the flesh you had deliberately left bare when you lift the hem of your night gown to expose yourself to Beel.

“What are you doing?!  I told you, I can barely hold back—”

“Then don’t.  I don’t mind, Beel.  I…I like it too.”

Amethyst eyes darken as they look up into yours, orange flames reflecting off pupils blown wide.  And when he speaks next, the deepness of his voice echoes in your body, as if its source were to be found within your own soul.

“Ask and ye shall receive.  I won’t touch you until you do.”

Nipples hardening beneath your gown, the rush of heat that floods your core makes you shudder when you say,

“Please, Beelzebub…I want you to eat my pussy.”

Back hitting solid wood, you barely have time to gasp before you are pulled to the edge of a long table in the centre of the kitchen, a long tongue running up the insides of each thigh in turn before they’re propped up onto broad shoulders, Beel’s breath blowing hot on the space in between.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can hold back.  I’m just…so famished, so desperate to taste you again—”

His words cut off in a low growl as he presses his lips to your folds, saliva dripping from his mouth mixing with the juices that already painted a glistening sheen on pink flesh.  You fight to bite back a moan at the vehemence of his hunger, the sheer greed of his tongue — flicking at your clit until your back arched off the table, heralding the arrival of the cream that leaked only to be swept up by Beel licking from end to end of that swollen seam.  And when that still wasn’t enough, you nearly swooned to feel that serpentine tongue penetrate, reaching depths that surely only a demon would be able to achieve as Beel sought out more of your flavour.

He buries his face deeper into your pussy, nose nudging your clit as arousal smeared over the entirely of his visage.  The vibrations of his voice further stimulates your locus of pleasure, punctuating the lewd, wet sounds when he says:

“You smell so delicious.  All the time.  And tonight, when you stepped out of the shower…I couldn’t take it, not with the way your scent flooded my senses.  I had to leave or else…this would happen.”

“Oh Beel…you should’ve told me sooner.”  

Mind lost in a haze of lust and body boneless from riding out wave after climatic wave, you reach down a trembling hand without thinking, fingers innocently tracing along the smooth ridges of the onyx horns that lay against your abdomen.

Suddenly, his breath hitches at your touch and the Sixth Prince of Hell is throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a moan loud and deep enough to reverberate off stone walls, clattering stacks of dishes in cupboards and making you come once more — legs convulsing upon his shoulders as you feel a preponderance of fluid gush forth from your body right into Beel’s waiting mouth.

The pleasure was such that you’ve never known before, so good that surely, it must be bad in some way, shape or form.  But you hadn’t the energy to ponder further.  

No, the only thing you’re aware of when your vision goes black is that Beel’s mouth is still on you, feasting upon a pussy that continued to respond to the teasing movements of his lips and tongue even as you ceased to think.

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Cheddar.  Pickles.  Ketchup and mustard.

The smell is what rouses you, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw when you awoke in your own bed: mountains of cheeseburgers arranged on platters filling up every available surface in the room you shared with Beel.

“You can sleep for longer if you want.  I told Lucifer you’d be skipping class today because you’re not feeling well.  Are you…feeling well?”

Beelzebub lifts his head from where it’d been resting at the side of your bed, the rest of his body laid out on the floor as if he were guarding you like an oversized dog.  Those puppy dog eyes, full of concern, didn’t help his case either.

“I’m fine, Beel.  Better than fine, actually.  I feel fantastic!”  You smile, moving to sit up in bed.  The demon springs from the ground, putting an arm around your shoulders to help prop you up, and your heart can’t help but warm at how protective he was being.

He breathes, relief flooding those handsome features.  “I’m glad.  I was afraid I lost control last night and had to carry you back.  You were just…so tasty and…satisfying…”  

Those amethyst eyes glint as they travel to the apex of your thighs, and all of a sudden, he is grabbing at those human world cheeseburgers, shoving them into his mouth two at a time.

“Have some,” he says between bites.  “They’re my favourite and I thought you might like them too.  Besides, you need to eat if you’re gonna keep up your energy.”

You reach towards the nearest platter, taking one for yourself.  “Energy for what?”

Beel looks at you, expression completely serious when he says, “For the next round tonight.”

Throb.

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Thank you so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚