#he wouldn't be able to do what he needs to do within the game without it

[thelemoncoffee]

Hello, I have rotated Juno in my microwave of a brain and come up with a theory for his ultimate that he forgor: I theorize he's the ultimate street racer or something along those lines.

This is based on mostly design, because the holes in his jacket remind me of those arrows in racing games that point to where you're supposed to go. Also the gloves he wears are associated with driving. Street racing would also easily get you a scar like the one he has and could be a way to make money. Also at least when comparing what I know of Juno, nothing outright contradicted this theory (I'm ignoring the fact that you're not supposed to drive in sandals) so. Yeeting this to your askbox, do with this what you will :)

ooooooo interesting theory! i can't confirm or deny it obviously but it's a very nice theory. i am glad you're having fun rotating him in your brain tho!

[kumkaniudaku]

Group Project

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.9k

MASTERLIST

"Okay. I think…I think I'm ready." 

For seven straight days, Asia moved through life, reliving her response to Kelvin and feeling like she'd just written a check her ass couldn't cash. The real thing. What the fuck had she agreed to?

As she sat next to Sabrina with her feet submerged in tepid, bubbling water, the reality of sex unspooling from a far away abstract thought into a tangible possibility with only hours separating her from facing her wildest fantasies smacked her so hard in the face she almost choked on the flat champagne sliding around her plastic cup. 

"Are you all right over there?" Sabrina asked without looking away from the laminated list of pedicure options. 

Asia attempted to take a steadying breath between coughs. "I think I'm dying," she sputtered. Another sip of the offending beverage helped force down residual mucus until she was able to speak without her throat burning. "Honestly, that might not be such a bad idea." 

"Oh, girl. You're losing your virginity, not going off to fight on the frontlines. Tighten up!" 

"Sabrina," Asia whisper-yelled before shooting a nervous grimace meant as a smile to a few older women thumping about in the massage chairs across from them. "You wanna tell everybody my business over the PA system or tap folks individually?" 

Rolling her eyes, Sabrina passed the laminated menu of pedicures to Asia before taking a sip of red wine. "I'm just sayin', friend. I came out today to help you loosen up, but you're stressin' me out. If you're having second thoughts, I'm sure your man will let you reschedule. I heard y'all on the phone earlier. He seems nice enough."

"I don't want to reschedule. I wanna do it tonight. I'm just…I don't know. I'm nervous about the before stuff. If that goes wrong, the whole night is ruined." 

Asia had spent the better part of a week trying to negotiate with the truth, only to realize that reality drove a hard bargain. She couldn't escape the rising tide of nascent romance threatening to wash away all her preconceived notions about her place in love land. He had to know their no-strings-attached suddenly developed enough strings to power a symphony.

For years, she'd convinced herself that time had passed her by. There were no more opportunities for first dates or first kisses. Men worth their snuff in the world wouldn't waste their time with a woman so demonstrably unsexy that she made Mother Teresa look like a lingerie model. Long-term relationships were for your early 20s. And if those days were lost to being dismissed by any potential love interest within the county line, one was essentially doomed to a life of pet-fostering and spending Valentine's Day indoors to avoid spilling your patheticness on people who'd figured out the game. 

Then came Kelvin, who, by all accounts, seemed to neatly pack each of her insecurities and hang-ups into a tiny box before chucking them into the wind. Asia couldn't understand why he hadn't dropped the entire experiment to canoodle, with women undoubtedly vying for his attention. She knew falling for your first, no matter what stage of life the experience found you, was a rookie mistake. But, the wrongs felt so right with him. How could she not at least try?

Sabrina paused her perusal of neon gel nail lacquer and smiled at her friend. "That boy likes you, Asia." Her matter-of-fact delivery came with a light chuckle as she pushed Asia's shoulder for emphasis. "He's not taking you on a date and sending flowers to the house because y'all are best pals. You can spend today worryin' yourself crazy, but I'm tellin' you it's for no reason. Get out of your head. Take it from somebody who is just now realizing her man never really liked her."

"Damn. I'm guessing you and Eric are back off?"

"Girl, yes. For good. But whatever, it's fine." Sabrina scoffed, waving Asia off as if her split second of vulnerability was nothing more than an observation about the weather, and smiled. "Today's about you! We gon' get these nails done, grab you something sexy for the art hoe, and teach you how to use lube. Condoms are being used, right?"

Asia's eyes darted around the room to catch horrified reactions from anyone who might've heard her business being openly discussed. "Bitch!" She lowered her voice before responding. "Yes, we are using condoms. I went and got them myself."

"That's what the fuck I'm talking about. I got this silicone-based lube that I know you'll love. Makes it feel like nothing's separating y'all. My girl is rubbing fronts tonight! Yesss!" 

"Oh God," Asia groaned as she slouched further into her chair, wishing she could poof into a thin layer of pixie dust if it meant she could escape embarrassment. "I'm gonna die."

Throat clearing and the grating squeak of leather under shifting weight stopped Sabrina's ongoing teasing mid-sentence to bring their attention to a greying black woman with curiosity etched in her barely wrinkled face. "Now, I know y'all weren't talking to me, but I need the name of that lube. Do I need to order it off the Amazon? I just got Prime from my son for Christmas." 

"Oop. I got you, Auntie. Let me see your phone." 

While Sabrina drew in a small crowd of elders looking to get back in the saddle with some slippery assistance, Asia found solace in another scroll of her favorite text thread. 

Can't wait to see you later Missed your face this week

Kelvin's last message included an air kiss gif that Asia would consider corny if not for the sender. Pitch decks, client meetings, and last-minute PTO set them on paths winding in different directions, stealing away all chances at a face-to-face meeting before they were body-to-body. 

If not for an impromptu call before the sun could fully take its rightful place in the sky, all communication would belong to iMessages full of jokes with no context and memes they considered fully fleshed-out thoughts. 

Asia read each message repeatedly just to feel the flutter of butterflies in every corner of her belly. He liked her. He had to. The sweet messages, the peach tulips bound in a pretty brown bow, and the early morning wake-up call couldn't all be kind gestures from a friend. Right? 

An internal battle between logic and wishful thinking played out in Asia's mental colosseum. She volleyed a million possible outcomes back and forth until stilted buzzing and a quiet trill against her wrist drew her attention to an incoming FaceTime call from the man of the hour. 

She slid in an earbud and then answered, instantly smiling as she watched his chain bob back and forth with every step while he kept the camera positioned below his face. Grown-out facial hair created the right amount of scruffiness to turn the heads of young and old women alike. His baseball cap cast a shadow across his cheeks. A cerulean sky boasting specks of fluffy white clouds and bright rays of flattering light highlighted the gleam in his earrings. It fanned outward, turning him into a walking, talking work of art. 

When he finally realized the call had connected and he had the rapt attention of his lone audience member, he looked down and grinned. "What's all that about?" 

"All what?" 

"That little smile," he chuckled. "You showin' teeth and everything, girl. Must be happy to see me." 

Caught. Asia tried to return to a neutral expression but found her face ignoring mental orders to accommodate more and more cheek burning as her smile grew wider. "Whatever! This is your second time calling. You need something, or you just like to hear me talk?" 

"Both," he answered, splitting his attention between an incoming crosswalk and the screen. The usual playfulness in his tone abruptly dissipated, leaving behind a seriousness Asia hadn't experienced. He looked down at her and licked his lips before speaking again. "I just, um…I wanted you to know that I'm cool with not staying the night. That was one of your rules, so don't think you have to change it on account of me. I'll leave in the middle of the night if that means you're comfortable." 

"I want you to stay, Kel. But only if you want to." 

"I already got my bag packed with extra pajamas and my laptop just in case this turns into a whole weekend. C'mon, now. This me you talking to!" 

Asia lifted a brow, shocked by his eagerness to spend days on end in her cramped apartment. "My bad! Didn't know you'd be so excited for a sleepover with little 'ol me." 

"I'm always excited to be with you," he answered. Dual smiles radiating from opposite ends of the city held steady over the phone until Kelvin pulled open a door and ushered in a harsh mix of sounds. "I gotta go. My boy's already on my ass for being late. He about to lose his tip, to be honest."

Asia's laughter drew attention, forcing her to shoo Sabrina away before she could interrupt. "Go ahead and get your haircut. Let me see when you're – girl, go away!"  

"Tell your girl I said 'hey,'" Kelvin chuckled as he eased his way into an empty barber chair. His eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer, trying to commit her scrunched nose and knitted brows to memory in case their time together was winding down. "I gotta go. I'll see you later, pretty." 

Her farewell was lost to petty arguments with her best friend on her end and a groundswell of hooping and hollering behind an offending opinion amongst a shop full of men on his side. A huff of air pushed past his lips in a short laugh as he slid his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. 

His barber and friend, Brandon, shook his head and tapped his foot on the pedal to lift Kelvin to the right height. "That's shorty from the bar that night? China?" 

"Asia," Kelvin corrected, a miffed frown deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth. "And, yeah. That's her." 

"My fault. You be way too secretive though, bro. How did y'all meet? Do you like her? Y'all just kickin' it? Tell me something, or I'm fuckin' up the fade."

Black nylon cascading in front of his face gave Kelvin a split second to decide how much information he could share with his notoriously talkative right-hand man without opening the door to prying questions and needless revelations. 

He scratched at the itching hair on his jawline, trying to appear nonchalant. "We met at work. She was new, I showed her around, and now we cool. Simple." An instant smile betrayed his forced tough-guy act. 

"Nah, you cheesin'! Tell the real story!"

The poker face he'd tried to maintain continued to slip into a full display of all thirty-plus teeth. 

"Alright, alright," Kelvin conceded. For months, he kept the truth relegated to his personal journal and mental interviews with Jimmy Kimmel while he practiced for superstardom in the shower. At least one other person should hear how he willingly tangled himself in Asia Scott's web. "I actually saw her when she interviewed. Bad, bro. I'm talkin' make you stop in your tracks just to watch her walk by type fine. Had me stuck at the coffee bar looking stupid." 

Brandon hummed as he pushed Kelvin's head down to start his cut. "Mhmm. That's how it starts, for real. She said something to you first, or what?" 

"Nah, I approached her. Not even trying to cross that line, really. I was supposed to just say what's up and keep it professional, but I couldn't stop talking after that. Next thing I know, we eating lunch, and I'm askin' this girl about her goals and shit." Kelvin laughed to himself while internally watching the memory unfold like a rom-com for his heart and mind only.  "She ain't ask nothin' about me, and I ain't even care. I just wanted to be around her."

"Sound like you got it bad, my boy."

Kelvin released an air he didn't know he was holding through his nose. "Yeah, man. I like her. A lot, actually. I'm thinkin' about saying something when we go out tonight, but…I don't know. It might not be the right time considering what I got goin' on."

"They must be talkin' 'bout some money in Chicago." 

"And then some," Kelvin added. "Crazy perks, revenue share, development plans. My whole life might change."

A loose connection from portfolio school and an expensive cold brew on a rainy weekday afternoon turned Kelvin's professional world upside down in less than two weeks. Initially, he wasn't interested in a move, even if the current work was no longer challenging and forward motion had stalled. His job was easy, flexible, and enough to pay the bills with a little extra on the side. But, a half-hour chemistry meeting with two creative leads over Zoom ran fifteen minutes too long from vibes alone. Then, solid chemistry turned into a first-round interview with a few department heads ogling over his professional and personal work for almost an hour before promising to keep in touch. Radio silence on their end for over a week convinced Kelvin that the circus was over, and he was free to go back to his life of easy money for even easier work. Hell, he didn't want to live in cold-ass Chicago anyway. 

Then the phone rang. And the inbox blew up. Flights got booked. Hotel arrangements were made. Hasty, last-minute PTO requests were granted in good faith. Tired eyes shielded by blue light lenses watched clouds part over a glittering city from thousands of feet in the air. A non-traditional second-round interview over piping hot pizza turned him into the center of attention. Corporate banter while he sipped freezing cold beer in lower-level seats at a Bulls game ended with a handshake and Kelvin sensing that he'd have a decision on his hands in the coming weeks. 

Asia. She popped into his mind more than a few times while too-cool advertising types wined and dined him in hopes his talent would fill out their roster. All of the progress, all of the accidentally tender moments and slip-ups he knew in his heart were more than happy accidents flooded him with ceaseless anxiety. Sure, he could see them planning weekend trips back and forth to keep the flame alive in a budding relationship. Long-distance courtship wasn't ideal, but he'd manage for her. However, his feelings about the matter were inconsequential. One false move, and he'd be out of a friend and potential lover. The thought alone threatened to upend a night he'd carefully planned since they agreed to their unconventional arrangement. 

The soft buzz of clippers near his right ear rescued Kelvin from spiraling as chunks of dead hair fell around him. 

"Aye, man, I ain't no love expert or nothing, but," Brandon started, his attention far off while he focused on his money-making blend. "You like her. I could tell when you brought her over to us that night, but I ain't wanna blow up your spot. Might as well say something. Why you wanna go to Chicago with regrets? You already 'bout to be up there with a slaw ass haircut because I ain't givin' up no contacts. Lose my number after this, nigga." 

Kelvin kissed his teeth and waved Brandon off. "I deleted your contact this morning if we being honest. Been tired of your ass." 

Shared laughter between two men who'd seen each other, from the naivety of boyhood to the hurdles and joys on the journey to becoming a man, added levity to a bitter inner storm. Kelvin tried to savor the moment and advice without dwelling on impending decisions but found the task harrowing once he popped the bubble they'd created to re-enter the real world. 

Regrets. Kelvin had a lot of them. Skipping out on senior prom, not answering his sister's FaceTime call for free Kendrick Lamar tickets, choosing that sketchy roommate to make ends meet in his first year out of school – the list went on and on. Asia couldn't be one of them. Not knowing if there could've been more would gnaw at him til kingdom come, and he didn't have room to harbor more what-ifs.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Asia, half listening to instructions with sweaty palms and a heart nearly cracking ribs in his chest, Kelvin resolved to use his last bits of nerve to step out on a limb. 

Sax heavy jazz selections wrapped a rented test kitchen and the couples within its walls in a sensual embrace under dim yellow light. Kelvin had TikTok and a favor to thank for snagging the final spot in Shawn and Terricka's coveted Couples Night In cooking course. In one night, he and Asia would take a culinary trip to Italy, complete with expert wine pairings and handmade pasta to bring them together as two parts of a whole. Kelvin couldn't say he was much of a fettuccine, linguini, bow tie, rigatoni guy. Still, he'd never forget how Asia's face lit up when she showed him videos of young women making noodles from scratch. He went to the ends of the Earth and his wallet to orchestrate an experience she wouldn't forget on a night when every detail down to the minute required perfection.

"Are you listening?" Asia asked with a teasing smile as she adjusted the complementary apron, shielding her from what was sure to be a mess if she had anything to do with it. 

He puffed his chest and straightened before clapping his hands and looking around their station at the ingredients in front of them. "Y-yeah. I heard everything she said. Eggs, flour, this thing…" He paused to satisfy his curiosity with a single crank of the pasta roller's handle before continuing. "It's, uh…all here." 

Asia watched him search the depths of his mind for any crumb of retained information, enjoying the way his lips shifted back and forth in pensive silence. 

Overhead light bathed Kelvin in a flattering glow, making the small stud in his ear and the watch on his wrist shine each time he moved his head. A soft black cashmere cardigan cradled strong arms, while his signature crisp white T-shirt displayed his broadening chest. His fresh haircut and trimmed facial hair sent tingles to all the right places, reminding Asia of the first time she noticed he was fine. 

"You're cute when you pretend you know what you're doing." 

Kelvin gave her a half smile without tearing his eyes away from the short list of step-by-step instructions in his hand. "Oh yeah? Only then?" 

"Well, all the time. But especially when you're thinking. Like how you're trying to remember Terricka's instructions when she hasn't even given us any yet. She was introducing the class and telling us we'd be sharing a little about ourselves in a bit.”

A sheepish grin preceded a gentle bump against Asia's forearm before Kelvin's shoulders bounced in quiet laughter. "Why you doin' me like that? If you didn't look so damn good in this dress, we'd have a problem." 

"Oh, so it's the dress?" Asia quipped as Kelvin leaned back for a better look. 

He nodded and reached out to pull her closer by the waist. His lips quickly found a home on her ear to keep their conversation private in a room full of chattering adults. "It's more than the dress. You're gorgeous, baby." 

Sweet compliments mumbled against soft, brown skin drowned out couple after couple sharing their names, length of relationship, and fun facts until a loud hand clap snapped Asia and Kelvin's attention to the center of the room. 

"And you two," Shawn questioned with all eyes directed toward the youngest two in attendance. "Tell us about your love." 

Kelvin gripped Asia tighter and cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm Kelvin, and this is Asia."

"Hey, y'all," Asia chimed with a quick wave. 

"And we're…" Kelvin looked at Asia, smiling at her while she smiled back at him, to find an explanation for what they'd been doing for a month. "We're enjoying our time together." His gaze remained steadfast on Asia's bashful grin. "Maybe we'll finish tonight on a different note, though." 

Red wine, teamwork, and a stack of questions printed on thick white note cards would ensure that the pair at least ended their first date with a greater understanding of each other. Asia learned Kelvin was an artist in every sense of the word. He preferred freestyling the tedious pasta recipe when directions called for specificity in every regard. Asia kept them on task, but not without redirecting her excitable companion along the way. 

Kelvin quickly discovered that all of Asia's know-how completely disappeared when faced with kitchen matters. She didn't know a ¼ cup from a half and didn't have any intentions of learning. Her forte was delegating tasks, not sullying her painted fingernails and oiled cuticles with egg yolks and wet dough. 

Separately, they were a clusterfuck of missing parts trying to navigate an arduous task. Together, though, they crafted the best mafaldine their instructors for the night had ever seen from amateurs. 

Tucked in a corner at the far end of the space's makeshift eating area, Kelvin and Asia plucked cards one after the other in a back-and-forth Q&A over flavorful mafaldine pasta bolognese. 

"Mm, this is a good one," Asia said after a sip of cabernet. "What is your favorite thing about your partner? What's one thing you would change?" 

Kelvin twirled pasta around his fork and thought for a moment. "You don't take a lot of shit. I like that you're very direct and in charge of what you want." 

"And something you would change?" 

"That's easy," he answered through a chew. "You're too hard on yourself. I wish you could see yourself how everyone else sees you. I know you think we're all just being nice, but you really are incredible. I love watching you blossom." Kelvin watched Asia digest his words over her glass, the wheels churning in her active mind. He reached across the table to grab another card. "What's one thing you want me to know about our relationship?" 

That I'm falling for you, and I don't want this to end. One hundred answers flooded in at once, but Asia settled on one. "I want you to know how appreciative I am for…all this. You've been kind when you could've called me a loser and left me in that bar to be with your friends." 

"I wouldn't have done that, Asia. Not to you." 

"I know," Asia assured as she dragged the last vowel. "But, you could've. So, thank you for being so kind and patient. By tomorrow, that'll all be done, and we'll go back to our lives, so I didn't wanna miss the chance to let you know how I feel." 

Confusion made Kelvin tilt his head to one side, studying her face under the haze of full-bodied wine and growing affection. "Go back to my life? Where's that coming from?"

"I just mean, it seems like we're coming to the natural end of this thing we're doing. We'll still be friends, but you'll be free to fly. Maybe sweep somebody off their feet. You're good at that," Asia clarified, her smile lingering as the familiar bloom of feelings coursing through her veins made her stomach flutter.

Kelvin placed his fork against his plate before pulling the napkin from his lap and depositing it on the table. No regrets. Now or never. A short laugh brought with it a charming grin aimed at his favorite girl. 

"Asia, I guess haven't been super clear with you from the start,"  He started while motioning for her hand in the center of the table. Asia answered his wordless call and placed her fingers in the center of his warm palm. He leaned closer, hoping she could detect his eyes' sincerity when he finally breathed out, "I like you, Asia. Shit, even 'like' is too small," He laughed. "I…I adore you. I crave you. I look forward to seeing you. I think about you constantly. I feel connected to you. I want to be with you. Does any of that make sense?" 

Asia sat stone still and unblinking for a moment, mulling over words she had only dreamt of hearing from another. An explicit declaration of intent – feeling foreign in her ears but familiar to a heart that longed for reciprocation. 

Her thumb caressed the back of Kelvin's hand as a smile spread her cheeks to their limit and deepened dimples she almost forgot existed. "Guess I'm a better kisser than I thought, huh?"

"Actually, I don't know. Let me check real quick." Metal dragging across stained concrete brought Kelvin's chair closer to Asia until their knees touched, transferring heat between their bodies. His fingers grazed her jawline, never averting his attention from her equally unwavering gaze. "Come here." 

Asia's favorite command, delivered in a sultry mumble, made hair all over her body stand straight up as they moved to meet each other in the middle. 

One tentative peck introduced a slow progression of deep, passionate kisses, translating latent feelings into a language only bodies could speak. A barely audible moan slipped out of Asia's mouth when Kelvin nipped at her lip, reminding them an audience wasn't far away. They pulled away slowly with equally glazed-over eyes and goofy grins.

Kelvin smiled and swiped at Asia's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Way better." He listened to her sweet giggle, grinning back until the sound reminded him of the question left unanswered. "Look, four weeks didn't spark how I feel about you. They helped, don't get me wrong, but I knew I wanted you as more than a friend the second you strolled into that office. If we're not on the same page, I understand. But if there's any chance we are, any chance –" 

"We're on the same page, same sentence, same word. But we can talk about what all that means tomorrow, okay?" Carnal desire propelled Asia forward for another slow kiss and feather-soft caress that threatened to bring Kelvin to his knees. She inched away to keep her lips on his as she spoke. "Right now, take me home. I don't wanna wait anymore."

------

Hopefully, Alister liked SZA. 

As barely intelligible love songs oozed from her Bluetooth speaker, Asia attempted to stifle sounds of pleasure with her forearm pressed against her mouth and one leg draped lazily over her lover's shoulder. Languid, thorough oral affection kept her lower back levitated off the mattress. Soft moaning melding with subtle slurping and smacking treated her ears to a beautiful symphony catered to her. 

Kelvin's fingers pressed into Asia's flesh to keep her steady while he lapped at the beginning of what he hoped was only her first orgasm for the night. Nervousness had him self-conscious. Skills he'd practiced and mastered long before she stepped into his life felt foreign. Was he doing it right? Did she like it? Was she happy? He suppressed the urge to question her satisfaction, instead leaning on every wanton sigh and muffled moan as proof he was on the right path. 

"Oh my God," Asia whispered to the ceiling. "Don't stop!" 

Immeasurable euphoria washed over her naked body as her hips bucked to accommodate electric shocks from head to toe. Hey, eyes crossed behind closed lids. Her toes curled while all ten fingers gripped the sheets. 

"One down," Kelvin thought to himself as he smiled against thighs pressed tight to his face. 

If not for her hand prying his face away after she'd exhausted herself from cumming, he'd start from scratch and bring her to the mountaintop until his jaws locked. But, he relented under her breathless pleas for a break. 

Slowly, Kelvin kissed his way up Asia's belly, making pit stops at both breasts and his favorite spot beneath her right ear before connecting their lips. They groaned at her taste intermingling with remnants of alcohol while their tongues reacquainted in a waltz too perfect to be a sin. He could feel his rational thoughts running south to stiffen his neglected member against briefs, growing more and more uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

Kelvin shifted his attention back to Asia's neck so he could speak against the spot. "You feel ready or need more?" His tongue sliding across the pulsing stretch of hot skin made Asia shiver under his body weight. He smiled and pulled back to get a better look at Asia's face. "You feel ready. Talk to me, pretty." 

"Okay," she answered as her arms encircled his neck. "Promise you'll go slow?" 

He nodded before dipping his head to peck her lips. "As slow as you need. I'll take care of you."

Years of waiting for someone to cherish her enough to take the plunge had culminated in undergarments discarded across the room and a single sleeve of thin latex covered in expensive lube separating her from the only man to see her in her most vulnerable form. 

This was it. This was the moment. She'd dreamed about it plenty of times, imagining the most minute details, from the weather to how she'd sound at the height of her climax. Mirages filled with rose petals on the floor and a soft breeze coming through the window made up a scenario better suited for a romance novel than the reality of finally releasing pent-up sexual tension.

Asia expected pain for the first time. She'd heard the horror stories and done enough research to know what was waiting on the other side of first-time penetration. Breathing recommendations and practiced facial expressions to mask her true feelings came flooding back to the front of her mind as Kelvin ran his palms up and down her hips to soothe her while he positioned himself at her entrance. She held her breath. Waiting, anticipating limb-splitting fire to consume her body.

But, as Kelvin slowly sank into her and twin groans of pure, unadulterated ecstasy eclipsed the opening notes of Love Galore, all of her assumptions became background fodder. 

Asia gripped Kelvin's tensed bicep while he stilled deep in her heat, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. "You okay," He questioned through shallow pants.

"Mhmm," she hummed before reaching to bring his face closer. "You feel so good already." Kelvin closed his eyes to will away premature release while she pulsed around him. Asia stroked his cheek and arched into his chest to beg him to move inside her. "Please. I trust you, Kel. It's okay." 

As promised, Kelvin started slow, rolling his hips into her for shallow strokes that made Asia's voice hoarse and her head spin. He reveled in the feel of ridged walls greeting his arrival as they tugged and released him according to pace. He lowered himself into the crook of her neck and felt instant relief when she cradled him close. The bed creaked in time to every measured back and forth, adding another layer to the duet their individual moaning created. 

Hot, slick skin on crumpled cold sheets wouldn't allow Asia to drift too far into La La Land. She feasted on Kelvin digging deeper and gripping her tighter while her body did the work to accommodate inch after glorious inch. 

Kelvin tried to remain quiet, tempering each grunt and unidentifiable sound as his hips loosened to find a rhythm perfect enough to elicit high-pitched mewls from the apple of his eye while she dug her fingernails into his back. 

"Look at you," Kelvin cooed as he pushed back up onto his forearms to get the full experience of Asia's face twisting in pleasure. "You're so fucking pretty. Open your eyes." 

"Kel…" 

He moved to bring one leg up to his waist for a new angle. "I'm right here, baby. Open those pretty eyes for me. Your first time only happens once. Don't look away." He waited patiently for Asia to force her sagging lids open enough to reveal the punchdrunk haze of a methodical fucking. He smiled down at her. "There she is. How you feelin'?" 

"So…oh my God…so good." 

"That's what I like to hear. I feel you getting close. You feel that?" 

A long, choppy moan came out before Asia's slurred response. "Mhmm. I think I'm…. mmm, I think I'm… I'm close." 

"Yeah, you are. Relax for me. Breathe deep." Asia tried to keep track of instructions but lost the plot and her sense of hearing the moment Kelvin slipped his hand between them to rub her clit with his thumb. 

The barely familiar coil of release tightened in her lower abdomen as Kelvin rocked into her while whispering sweet everything onto the corner of her mouth. Asia wrapped her arms around his shoulders for stability, anticipating the first wave of heat trying to prepare her body for something more intense. 

Her breathing grew rigid. The world slipped away pixel by pixel. Thoughts turned into mush. Kelvin's instructions returned as fleeting anecdotes. Asia tried to breathe through it but found the task playing second fiddle to the natural tense and release of her thighs around his waist. 

In through your nose, Asia. The reminder pinged around the empty corners of her mind until they found a way to burrow into the only functioning part of her brain. 

Kelvin watched her cycle through a range of all too familiar feelings from overhead, pride, and a competitive spirit he thought he left in high school, convincing him to go above and beyond. He drove his hips a little harder to hear the headboard thumb against paper-thin drywall. Added pressure on her sensitive button was the magic key to turning a small pond into one of the great lakes. 

Asia's jaw dropped to force out a throaty, "Fuck, baby…yes!" before he eased up to allow her to experience all the joy of post-coital bliss without the overstimulation. He'd save that for another time if the universe allowed. 

Sabrina was so wrong about what to expect. All Asia's hang-ups about ending the night unsatisfied or unimpressed were washed away as sensation returned to her fingers and toes. 

"Kiss me." It's all she wanted – Kelvin's lips on hers until her oxygen became his. 

They lay there, hot, sweaty, and still connected at the waist while Kelvin pressed tender kisses on Asia's lips. He nuzzled his nose against hers. "You called me 'baby.'" 

"I know," she answered as she brought her hand up to rub a spot at the base of his neck. "I meant to. Don't make me regret it." 

Guilt smacked into Kelvin like an 18-wheeler, but he maintained his composure to maintain the hopeful smile on Asia's face. "I won't." 

"Good. Don't hold back on me this time. I want all of you." 

"This time" turned into another, a short break and a few more for good measure while SZA sang them into the wee hours of the morning. Kelvin poured himself into making every minute worth Asia's while as a reward for trusting him with her body. 

Chicago and its host of budding issues belonged to another day. He wasn't leaving the room, her apartment, or the city with any regrets. Not while he still had so many more lessons to teach.

-------

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[noroi-om]

MC Can't walk/is Injured | Obey me!

What they do when you got injured and you can't walk?

A/n: sorry if someone is not fitting the character. Especially side side characters.

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Luke, Mephisto, Thirteen, Raphael

•He's troubled when he got to know you got injured. So he was quick to check on you. He without thinking gave you day free. You can stay in your room as long as you want.

 Since you need to get better. He won't let you overuse injured leg. 

He'll tell you that if you need anything you have to call him. If he's not able to rush to you, he'll get one of his brothers to give you things from him. 

•You got injured? Phew, for sure not! And why should he care? He's complaining about your injury. How can you be in pain? He didn't allow that! He sees it's a real injury. But he's not admitting he's troubled by your pain (even if everyone knows that)

He's telling you that it's not serious and he's not worrying about you. Yet he's always around when he sees you move somewhere. Or he's helping you if he sees you may need it. 

•He's first frozen seeing that you can't walk without feeling pain. He's worrying and telling you to sit down. He almost panic when he can't help much. And injury needs time to heal up.

He sat you in his room on all the pillows he had and started playing games with you saying you can play together until you're all good.

•Even if it may be a small injury, he's already getting you to sit. Trying his best to make you as comfortable as you may be. Letting you lie down if you want. Rushing to your side when you want to go get something, saying he'll get that for you, so you may rest and not stand up. Always checking on you and trying to get to know if there's any way to cure injury right away. 

•Rushing to you with sad words, to see if his honey is okay. You'll be lying in his bed. So he can take care of your whole body. He'll brush your hair, massage your body, paint your nails in any color you want to make your humour and body get better. You will be better just looking at him, he would say.

•He'll be your carriage. Literally. He would just see that your leg hurts and first thing he would do is support your body, so you can lean on him. Then he asks right away if you're good. 

When he knows you feel pain, he's just carrying you in his arms everywhere you want to be. If you don't use the injured leg it'll heal faster, right? 

•He'll ask if you're in pain. Or he'll get to know because of Beel. If you're injured and you can't walk... You can just stay with him in bed and sleep until it heals... What's wrong with that? 

•Even if he's away when you get injured, he'll get to know. Royalty treatment. Even if he's a prince here, you'll be his priority. He'll be everywhere around you, just to know you have everything you want and need within your hand. He'll be asking again and again if you need something, even if the bed in which you're lying is full of things that are for you to get better and comfortable. 

If he can't be here with you all day, because of his duties, he'll get you a few servants so you're okay.

•Professional support with getting you almost too comfortable. Taking care of himself. He already knows what he needs to do with you, even if you're injured and he needs to attend to his duties too. He's making everything easier for you, examining your injury and being gentle with it. And then he's telling you to rest in the room and let him take care of it all.

•His duty is caring for human beings. He would be sad when he knows that you got Injured and he could avoid it somewhat. But since it happened, he's putting much care in that you won't feel it much so you'll forget about pain. He's always supporting your body when you need it. Always make you remember to rest and be careful. 

•First what he's doing is teasing and smiling, talking about it wouldn't happen to you if that was him or with him. He would either heal you right away, or, if he's in mood, he'll bring you to bed. And he'll be happy saying you need him and you won't do anything without him, while humming.

(Don't eat food he'll do for you)

•Crying when you get to know you're injured. Always asking you if it hurts. Apologizing that he was not able to guard you like an angel should. He would like to be more help, but he would ask Simeon for advice on what he would do for you to feel better. 

He's bringing you fresh cakes and cookies. 

•Wait, did you just feel pain? She would stand here for a small moment, shocked and frozen, thinking. Then she would without words go over to you to help with anything! Poor little souls shouldn't be like that! 

You're getting her messages every hour so she knows if you're better now.

• Huh? You got injured? Why should he care about that? He had better things to do than worry.

Wait, you're really injured and can't walk? 

Maybe he should check on you…

•You are injured? Let him check. What did this? Should he rain spears down the reason for your injury? 

Honestly he's checking on you and asking if you need his help, any time you want. And sometimes he's just getting to you without question and he's asking if you're okay. Then he's not saying anything at all, and he's sitting with you, doing anything you want.

[el-bellanaris]

Bad Narration in Veilguard

Varric's narration in Veilguard is bad. Now I'm not talking about his voice actor or the audible narration but from a writing aspect.

For a long time I mostly placed it as his narration was childish, because I genuinely believed that he was telling this story to children. This is because his narration is literal, it explains things we saw and brings up very surface level concepts that anyone playing the game should be able to grasp without him telling us. But the game has a mature rating, it was advertised as having the steamiest romances in any Dragon Age title there is an expectation that us players are of a minimum age to play. So when it wasn't revealed that he had retired and was now happily telling some children the stories as a bedtime story I was surprised. Who was Varric talking to? Us? I don't need someone to literally tell me what I saw or give me vague promises of conflict in the story. I'm going to share some examples here to show what I mean:

"With their eyes on the Dread Wolf and the gods he'd set loose, they couldn't see their own personal demons coming to haunt them."

"Harding told herself it felt right. She was connected to the Stone, to the lost Titans, and all of the dwarven history, with its buried secrets. How could that be anything but good?"

"Sooner or later, debts new or old would come due. And they would all be paid in blood."

"But a prize like that was going to attract more attention than they'd bargain for."

All of these are very surface level explanations of what literally happened and then end in some kind of attention grabber to make us stay connected. But any person old enough to buy this game is also old enough to be aware that violence would ensue, that characters would experience hardship and roadblocks. We aren't children so these aren't new concepts.

I couldn't quite articulate how I think this should be fixed, I'm not a writer nor have I ever studied how to be one. So I watched a video explaining that very simply covers good vs bad narration and everything the video mentioned about bad narration was evident in the game. Good narration should be additive, adding to the experience of the story and giving you more information and engagement.

Varric isn't actually adding anything when providing these comments. He's spoon feeding us something that happened within seconds of his narration. It's purpose was to call back to Varric being a story teller to him narrating DA2. It's nostalgia, it's Disney making a soulless live action remake for money whilst ruining the integrity of their stories.

And this is one of Veilguard's major problems, its a amalgamation of several concepts from the old games to create a game but none of them were executed well. Rather they were executed in a way that is shallow and lacks the understanding of why they worked in the first place. Varric's narration in 2 didn't work because he's Varric it worked because the writers made it engaging.

These choices also unintentionally or intentionally telling us they think we're dumb. That us as the audience don't actually have a deep understanding of their work so they won't put in effort to give us anything engaging. That Varric being in the game is enough for a percentage of us to play it because having a fav is shallow and we should just be happy he's in it at all. (I mention the concept of having a fav as shallow because there's a lot of people who do believe that only focusing on talking about their blorbo is shallow because they aren't engaging in the media as a whole and I wouldn't be surprised if jaded devs thought this way too)

To end this entire post, good narration should add to the story we're experiencing. It should let us understand the characters and the story better not by telling us things but by letting us think and feel. And it's a disservice to Varric's character to make him a bad story teller who puts no effort into the story he is telling. Varric a man whose life is dedicated to storytelling, who connected with Solas through telling a story and even went as far as to continue a story he thought was bad because it made his audience happy.

[wpdarlingpan]

Could we get something with Yandere ouat Peter? Preferably gender-neutral or nb reader.

An idea I had is maybe Hook has a kid, so the character would have grown up in Neverland. I think maybe a platonic Yandere Peter would be v interesting, where he maybe tries to interact with reader as a ‘cool older brother’ sort of figure, despite the fact that reader very much knows exactly who he is and that he’s dangerous. Romantic would be fine too though!

Thank you so much for the request! I apologize it took so long and I have not written in a while so I hope it's okay!

I loved this idea so I had to see how it'll play out. I did the platonic version and although I did use Y/N and made them gender-neutral, I wrote they were 17 for the story's sake. I often have Peter refer to them as a child because in his mind he feels the need to take care of and protect them.

I am considering a part two if people like this idea enough, maybe taking place when the Storybrooke residents arrive.

Warning: Yandere Behavior

Word Count: 2886

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

The Love Of A Brother

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

The day Killian Jones, otherwise known by his more colorful moniker Hook, came to Neverland was a day he would never forget.

He had many men aboard, each desiring to never grow old until they wished. They all had been warned about the dangers that lurk within the water and upon the soil of Neverland but the idea of dying from old age was a more terrifying feat to them.

However, one person had little choice in the matter, as they were still somewhat forced to come to Neverland.

Captain Hook's kid, Y/N.

After the day Mila died it was up to him to become a single parent. Overall he was rather good at it. Always telling stories so that they would be able to sleep at night or sitting by their bedside when they had gotten a cold. But, no matter how much love they held for each other, Killian could not stop going after the man who killed his wife and the mother of his child.

Y/N was 17 the day they had arrived in Neverland and would remain so until the day they left.

This was not a decision Hook made lightly. Bringing the person he cared for more than anyone into the hellish landscape wasn't something he'd wish on his worst enemy (other than Rumpelstiltskin) but the idea of leaving them with no idea when he would return hurt even more.

So he created the rules.

Do not leave the boat without permission.

Do not ever interact with Peter Pan or his shadow.

Avoid the Lost Boys.

"Who is Peter Pan?" They asked their father as the Jolly Roger settled after coming through the portal to Neverland.

"A bloody demon." He responded looking at the dark island as it neared.

Hook began telling the stories that he knew. Even sharing how he had met Peter Pan in the first place. Albeit leaving out what happened to his brother as he blamed himself as well as Pan for the tragedy.

Pan knew he was arriving on the island. Hook riskily contacted him through his shadow to come to a truce before being allowed to arrive on the island.

But there was a little thing Hook had forgotten to mention.

His child.

He had hoped that if none of the inhabitants of the island knew their relation, with Peter assuming they were deckhands or something, they wouldn't be targeted if Peter got bored or wanted to play a game.

But the resemblance was noticeable from the first meeting.

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

As the boat docked onto shore to make an initial supply run, Hook kept Y/N close. Half of the crew, including the two of them, walked carefully through the jungle, avoiding every thorn they came across.

But the real danger was just up ahead. After all, Peter Pan wouldn't be a polite host if he didn't welcome his guests.

The second the pirates entered a clearing they were surrounded by the sound of rustles as the leaves moved around the edge of the clearing and a figure appeared about 20 feet ahead on the other end.

Hook froze, he knew he should have expected him to show himself this early, but a part of him had hoped he wouldn't, not yet at least.

Y/N held onto their bow and arrows tightly as they observed the boy up ahead who looked just a little older than them. Judging by the way he held the spotlight, they had to assume this was Peter Pan.

"Look what we have here, I didn't expect to see you on the island this quickly. I mean after what had happened last time you were here, the idea of returning so willingly was unexpected, Captain." Peter spoke as he neared the group, the Lost Boys forming a circle around them to prevent anyone from running.

Peter inspected the group as they each held some form of weapon. Be it a dagger, sword, or even one with a bow and arrow.

He neared the one with the bow and arrow, the idea of figuring out what else made them so different lingered in his mind. Peter stood closely in front of them, studying their appearance and the subtle yet noticeable looks towards the direction of Hook.

This is when something had clicked.

His brain was no longer assessing the group as a whole or messing with the Captain. His thoughts were reserved for only them. The way they were trying to hide their shaking hands and the way they held onto the bow tighter the closer he got. The shine of their eyes as they looked at him almost like a frightened deer.

He could recognize a scared child anywhere and this time he didn't want it to be his fault. It was like an instinct of protection filled his black heart. Their fearful yet innocent gaze was embedded into his soul. Someone like this simply couldn't live with harsh pirates.

He reached a hand out towards them but Hook stepped in the way. His gaze was harsh yet Peter could easily detect the fear hidden in them. For himself or the child, he wasn't sure.

Peter smirked at Captain Hook as he realized why they had looked so familiar now seeing the similarities in their features and hair color. He had been to distracted by the odd feeling of protection and familiarity to even acknowledge the finding.

"You have a child? My you got busy after leaving last time." He teased as he glanced around the man to see them standing there, their gaze locked onto the ground.

"Stay away from them or so help me you will have wished-" Hook began to say before Peter cut him off.

"You'll do what? Let me remind you, you're here because I allow it. You eat the island's food only because I allow it. You only live because I have use for you yet." He threatened motioning his hand for the Lost Boys to run away.

Y/N took a sigh of relief as the group dispersed but their worry would still remain until Peter was out of their sight. The ideas of the horrors they were told, all of which could happen to them just by being in his presence, filled their anxious mind.

Peter stared at Hook seriously before sending a look and a playful wink toward Y/N, hoping to make them less afraid.

"I'll see you soon." He commented staring directly into their eyes before disappearing.

—————————

Apparently soon meant a few days.

It first began when Y/N was laying on deck, watching the stars when someone appeared next to them and laid down on the spare part of the blanket.

“The stars are beautiful aren’t they?” He spoke as if lying on the ground next to them wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

Y/N was silent, trying to hide the fact they were afraid. The unknowing was terrible, the idea that their father was fast asleep, probably passed out from exhaustion at that, was nerve-wracking as they could not call for help.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me.” Pan said genuinely, staring at the side of their face as he admired their courage to hide their fear.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You have a reputation you know. I’m sure you could get rid of me in a heartbeat.” Y/N was nervous now, it audibly showed through the small stutter that sounded in their sentence.

“That doesn’t mean I want to… Do you know why I’ve brought all these boys to the island?”

“Because they’re lost?”

“Because no one deserves to feel alone.”

Peter Pan believed that because Y/N was an only child who spent their whole life traveling the seas, that they had to be lonely. They are constantly moving and never staying in one place, let alone with people their age.

Then their father, he’s a pirate with a drinking problem who is so obsessed with revenge that even though he is protective and loves his child, Peter couldn’t tell you which the man valued more.

Revenge or love?

If Peter were to take her right now, he could be their older brother. Someone who takes care of their little sibling in the face of everything like heartbreak, anxiety, everything that would make them feel anything other than happiness.

Y/N would be his sibling. He’d be their only brother.

Being an older brother to Y/N sounded perfect to him.

—————————

Their next encounter was when they had been sitting on the edge of the beach as the Jolly Roger was anchored nearby.

Y/N's father had allowed them to hang out along the shore alone.

The captain and crewmates were planning on staying on the edge of the jungle that was Neverland. He had figured they would be okay for a couple hours and that he could hear if they needed anything.

He knew the dangers that posed leaving them there alone but he thought they would be cornered again the second they entered the tree line so there really wasn’t anywhere ‘safe’ at the moment.

That’s how he rationalized it at least.

But when Peter saw them sitting alone on the shore, the mermaids moving closer by the second, he saw Hook as irresponsible and unfit to care for Y/N.

He quickly approached them, the sight of him causing the mermaids to swim away quickly, realizing that was not someone they wanted to lure in.

“Y/N.” Peter said as he approached, sitting in the sand next to them.

“What are you doing?” They spoke questioningly “I thought you would be bothering my father and his crew.”

“Is that what he counted on. Me leaving you alone as they frolicked or whatever they are doing in the jungle? Is that why he left you here defenseless?” He replied getting more confident that Killian wasn’t fit to take care of Y/N.

“I don’t like what you’re accusing him of.” Y/N replied, glaring at Pan in front of them but if anything it was adorable.

He raised his hands jokingly as if he actually felt threatened by them.

“I’m just saying, he knows the dangers of this island. If it’s not me, it’s the lost boys, then the Dreamshade, and as you almost realized, the mermaids.” Peter counted off making Y/N realize what the subtle splashing noise they heard was. “He shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“I’m 17. I can take care of myself for a few hours.” They argued, much like if they were telling their older sibling they didn’t need to be babysat.

“Sure you can. But you don’t need to when I’m here.”

———————-

From then on he would appear randomly whenever he knew Y/N was alone.

When they weren’t, he was silently protecting them from the shadows.

If we’re sketching in their room? He’d sit next to them silently, allowing them to focus. Meanwhile he was busy admiring their skills even if it was a simple picture of the sky.

They volunteered to go look for some more supplies on the island?

They mysteriously got separated from the group for a few hours.

He took them saying ‘I can take care of myself for a few hours’ rather literally. In those few hours, they got an entire tour of the main points of the island.

Even the camp.

Peter had them sit on his designated chair, introducing Y/N as their little sibling. Each of the boys came up to them and introducing themselves enthusiastically as the proposed all the fun games they could play if they were to stay.

Even when Y/N emphasized greatly that they couldn’t.

Each and every time.

When their birthday came around Peter gifted them a necklace, his initials were on the inside, to protect them from anyone who finds their way to the island.

Although he made sure to use his magic to conceal the necklace from the eyes of Hook.

Not that he cared about what the man thought, after all nothing would keep him from his little sibling.

Nothing.

-----------

The day Peter had been preparing for came sooner than expected.

Hook had discovered a way to kill the dark one and his need for the island was gone. Meaning it was time to return back to the enchanted forest.

The crew had begun preparing to return back to the forest. Packing up their supplies and strapping down anything they had on deck to prepare for traveling through the portal.

Y/N was packing up anything loose in their room. They had mostly finished other than having to pack the rest of their art supplies.

“So you were just going to leave and not tell your older brother? I'm offended” Peter spoke appearing in their room and sitting on their bed.

In their deal, he had allowed Hook to leave once he had found a way to accomplish his goal.

That was before he had met Y/N.

“I was never going to say in Neverland. I was always going to leave. I don’t know what you were expecting.” Y/N spoke harshly trying to push him away.

They had to admit, after all this time spent with Peter, that it was hard to view him as some irredeemable demon. He comforted them when they had nightmares of their mother’s death, protected them from the mermaids, did their favorite activities with them (even if he was not really invited), and seemed to love them.

Peter knew they were just trying to protect themself from the pain of leaving so they lashed out. He could tell they were saddened at the thought of leaving him. This made him feel warm inside.

Y/N assumed they’d be fine once leaving Neverland, they would have to forget about Peter Pan and their life would go back to normal, well as normal as it gets.

Suddenly they heard approaching footsteps.

“Y/N? Are you ready to go? We are about to enter the portal now.” Killian called through the closed door, his eagerness to leave the island covering the fact that there was a muffled sound as he spoke. Hook was ecstatic, his time for revenge had come. His head was in the clouds as he ran over his plan over and over again. Causing him to not even think to just poke his head in to check on his child, just of the idea that the portal was closing any minute

The muffled noise was Peter whispering that he would not let Hook leave if they said anything other than that they were ready.

Y/N knew if they weren’t allowed to leave, their father would be devastated.

“Yes father, I’m ready!” They called back and the two listened as the man’s footsteps grew farther and farther away.

“You can’t leave Y/N. You’re my little sibling, I have to take care of you.” He spoke manipulatively the second Hook was out of distance.

“I have to. If it’s up to me, I’ll never leave my father. He raised me, he loves me! He will take care of me better than you ever can.” Y/N retorted, frustrated at the situation. Why wouldn't Peter just go away? They knew they cared for him, even just a little bit. But their father was very important to them. Even if he had been a little distracted while searching for revenge, they didn't feel his love any less.

A loving father or a over protective, self-proclaimed brother.

They knew which had meant more. They had made their choice, one they couldn't vocalize as Peter softly blew poppy dust into their face, causing them to pass out instantly.

“Then it isn’t up to you.” as he spoke “This is for your own good. I love you Y/N and I know you love me. You are better off at my side.”

He picked them up bridal style as he and Y/N disappeared off the boat and reappeared in the camp. All of their stuff appears on the ground off to the side of them.

"Welcome to your new home, Y/N"

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

Hook had gone to Y/N’s cabin to check on them, the portal closing behind him as they could see the Enchanted Forest off in the distance.

He was eager to see his child, wanting to celebrate the idea of finally being able to avenge his wife and their mother. Hook knocked and didn’t hear an answer assuming they had been disoriented or hurt by the portal, he opened the door quickly.

But, he was met with an empty room and no Y/N.

He looked around for any signs frantically before he spotted a letter on the bed.

Hook,

You were always too focused on the idea of revenge that you neglected what was in front of you. You never deserved Y/N and you never will. Each time you left them alone, I was there. I comforted them, I protected them, and I loved them. Each thing is something you couldn't do while you searched for something you did not even know existed. Y/N will be better off without you.

I always wondered if you'd choose revenge over love.

I guess I have my answer.

Their brother,

Peter Pan

[etherealily]

Can you please write some head-cannons about Nate Jacobs’ ideal ‘type’ of woman , what she would wear , personality ect

Oh, for sure. I'm in-between fics anyway.

Here are my other headcanons.

And my other Nate fics. If you have the time.

I've not included even slightly NSFW content because your profile says you're a minor.

Under the cut.

CLOTHES.

Obviously, thanks to the lovely Rue Bennett, we know quite a bit about this "Ideal Girl™'s" clothing. But, I do have things to add...

He'd 100% want nail and outfit colours to match his mood (or his own outfits, if he's feeling "romantic"). He wants his girl to wear red today just because? Guess what she's wearing.

If it's a game, his girl's wearing his jersey or his jersey colour.

Colours only, though. Matching entire clothing is cringe as shit to him.

Accidentally wearing a checked-shirt when he does, for instance, is disgusting.

He'll walk around shirtless before letting anyone catch him slip.

Unfortunately, I don't think he'd like to give his girl his clothing. Seriously.

He'd much rather buy her stuff than give it to her.

His stuff belongs to him, and (most of) his girl's stuff should be from him.

Now, for my favourite part :

PERSONALITY.

Unlike how it's portrayed in a lot of fan media on here, I really don't think he wants a submissive, pushover-sort-of person. Think about it logically, if he did, he'd have stayed with Cassie, not wanted to go back to Maddy. That being said, he's also not too cool with the challenging-him, either.

So, the "Ideal Girl™'s" personality would most likely have to be a very carefully balanced proportion of justifiably sane and catastrophically accomodating.

He wouldn't like cussing in public. He won't do it, so can't have his girl doing it. Public image.

He loves jealousy. Honestly, the "Ideal Girl™" doesn't even have to do anything, just deadass come up to him and say she's jealous, and she's made his day.

Image is everything to him. Everything. Wear what you want, within reasonable bounds (aka no Maddy-at-the-carnival-type-outfits), at least not in a place you could be seen by others.

The future is very important to him, and it should be important to his girl, as well. Intertwine his future with yours while you're talking and your hands are also intertwined, and you're gold.

He needs his girl to literally be able to read his mind, know all his tells, read his body language. Know when a fight's on its way. If he's pushing for a fight, let him have it.

Wholeheartedly believe he'd actually be fine with his girl getting drunk/high, just not too often, and not without him right next to her, even if it's with a group of girls. He likes the feeling of someone depending on him.

Fitness is a huge thing for him. You don't need to go to the gym with him or whatever, but you need to be healthy.

If his mother likes you, you're golden, but way too safe. If his father disapproves of you, that's when he knows he needs to lock it down. MISC.

He doesn't actually get jealous easily when in a relationship, I don't think.

Yes, I know, controversial opinion, but if it's during a break, he's pissed that you can move on that fast, so yeah, gets jealous. We see this on the show.

But during a relationship? Dude, I just don't see that level of insecurity.

Doesn't give his girl a chance to even turn, with the amount of attention he's giving her at parties and group hangouts, and if he does notice other guys looking at her, he just shrugs and ups the PDA.

As much as I'd like to be delusional, he would kind of hate girls who even remotely believe in astrology (unless it works out in his favour) because he thinks everything is controllable.

You need to change your Instagram pronouns to "his" but he'll change it back from "hers" without you knowing, because he obsessively checks your bio to make sure it's there, but not the other way around.

Almond boyfriend. Sorry, but while he's not actively telling you to reduce your intake of normal food, he does try to order for you and make it healthy and low-carb.

To his credit, he knows how hard it is to eat that shitty green stuff, so he orders the same thing. Doesn't eat the whole thing, though, but makes sure you eat yours.

Flowers every V-day and b-day. Gifts just because. Has no qualms posting you (out of his own will) as long as you post him back.

Will volunteer to do your homework for you. Very controversial opinion, yes, but he really doesn't mind. Just another thing you'll owe him for that he can cash in later.

Overall, if your interests overlap, he's over the moon.

"I love you" is a weapon. Learn how to wield it or he'll siege your fortress.

Feel free to add things on. Thank you for the ask.

-XOXO, Vega.

[httpsleclerc]

so i'll take the nightshift

sebastian and his ex wife have a chat after the last weeks events

part one here

wc: 1.3k words

cw: absent father? again not intentional

It had been a week since you had admitted to both yourself and your daughter that you missed Sebastian. In that week, he had been at your apartment first thing on Monday morning to pick her up so that he could spend his week with her, since he had already missed her birthday - which was truly no fault of his own - he had vowed he would treat her like the princess you both knew she was for the whole week he was able to spend with her. You knew that Sebastian was a great father, in your daughter's eyes? The best - even if her mommy and daddy didn't live together, she knew that they both loved her with everything that they had. Your week without her had been peaceful enough, managing to get all the housework that needed done did before her arrival - But the silence that came with the lack of her had you deep in your thoughts, as you remembered your admittance of missing your ex-husband: You were hoping that she wouldn't relay what you had said to Sebastian.

You were sat on the couch, Sebastians throw blanket tucked around you - You couldn't bare to get rid of it after you had separated, everything else was fair game, but part of you didn't want Sebastian out of your life entirely, you still loved him and missed him dearly. Hearing the door knock, you paused the movie playing on the TV, your daughter had already walked in on you watching a horror movie before, and you would rather not want to go through that again. Keeping Sebastians blanket wrapped around you, you heaved yourself up off of the couch and shuffled to the front door, opening it and seeing your daughter asleep in her father's arms.

"Oh, hey," You greeted him, your heart stopping as you realised that this was really the first time you had come face to face with your ex since you had admitted missing him, the Monday past where he had picked her up, you had been too busy getting her ready to really have a minute to process your feelings.

"Hi, I don't know if she's pretending to be asleep or not but she's not waking up," He smiled at her and then you, and you returned the smile, remembering the days where she would be pretending to be asleep to get you or Sebastian to carry her into the house. "Can I come in?" Sebastian asked you, you nodded in response, stepping aside to let him come into your apartment.

"How was she?" You asked him, brushing her blonde curls out of her face as she slept peacefully in her father's arms. Sebastian smiled, he held so much love for the daughter that you and him had created and loved nothing more than getting to spend time with her - well, he loved one thing maybe a bit more.

"She was great, I'm sure she'll tell you all about it when she wakes up, she's really talkative now, huh?" You chuckled at Sebastians words and nodded, you knew all too well how chatty your daughter could be, especially when she was excited or had something fun to tell you.  You sighed as you realised that you couldn't deal with the conflict that you felt within you anymore, you needed to talk to Sebastian about how you were feeling, about how your daughter was feeling.

"Seb, can we talk?" You asked him, placing a hand on your daughter's small back and then looking up at Sebastian, who nodded in response to your question. "You can put her to bed if you want, her room is down the hall and to the left." He smiled and nodded, internally fighting the urge to place a small kiss on your lips like he would always do. You paced your living room as you thought of how to vocalise your feelings without bursting into tears.

"Is everything okay, Y/N?" Sebastian asked you, as he settled down on your couch and watched as you sat down beside him, playing with the bracelet that your daughter had made you. You sighed, knowing that if you didn't do this now, then you never would. 

"(Name) missed you last week, she was devastated when you didn't make it to her party," You started telling him, your heart breaking as you remembered the heart break of your daughter as she told you of her upset at the absence of her father at her party. "And I had to tell her the same thing that I used to tell myself, that it was because this was your job and that you couldn't help it and then she said that she missed you and then I said-"

"That you miss me too," Sebastian cut you off, frowning as he looked at you. "She told me, I was putting her to bed and she told me that you were upset because you missed me." Your heart stopped as you sighed, rubbing your face.

"The worst part is that I mean it, Sebastian," You told him. "I miss you, but I don't miss you being gone all of the time, not hearing your voice for days because of the time differences, but now I have to make the same excuses I made for myself for you being gone to our daughter, Sebastian." Your voice was wavering and you knew that at any point, you would burst into tears and his next words would determine the possibility of that. He reached forward to hold your hand as he always did when he could tell that you were getting worked up, even separated, he still knew you so well.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to be retiring at the end of this season," He dropped the biggest bomb you had possibly ever heard. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him, you didn't understand - Sebastian loved his career, so why is he giving it up.

"What? Sebastian, you love racing," You voiced. Sebastian chuckled as he shook his head, still holding your hand in his.

"I do, but I love you and (Name) more, and I don't want to miss out on any more of our girl growing up," He told you, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you gained some sort of inkling where this was going - were you ready for this again? Was he being genuine? Of course he was. Again, even separated, you knew your ex well. "And I'm not expecting you to take me back straight away, I know me being gone so often really hurt you in ways that I could never imagine, but I would really like for us to try again. I still love you, Y/N. I think I always will love you." 

You didn't even think over his offer of trying again before you threw yourself into his arms, craving the feelings of his touch after being starved of it for so long. You were getting your Sebastian back. 

"I don't think I ever stopped loving you, Seb," You cried, looking into his eyes which mirrored your daughters perfectly. He laughed as he looked into yours, finding nothing but the woman he had loved since their first meeting, the woman who was the mother of his beautiful daughter, the woman he loved.

"Me neither, my love."

Maybe this time, things wouldn't be the same, but better. 

note: idk whether I love or hate this pls give me some feedback to work with

[marauder-misprint]

Glass

Sirius Black x Keeper!gn!reader

Microfic - 980 words

cw: injury, semi-fluff

After getting hit on the shoulder with a bludger and somehow managing to not fall off your broom, the Quidditch match both dragged on and went by in a blur. Streaks of red and yellow passed in front of you, standing out yet blending in with the bright blue sky behind them. You were glad that you weren’t Gryffindor’s seeker. With how much pain you were in, you wouldn't have been able to catch the snitch, let alone spot it. The tears that involuntarily fell down your face blurred your vision as you hovered in front of the goal posts. You try to focus on the game going on around you, but it’s no use. You instead focus on staying on your broom until one of the seekers ends it, hoping your team is able to defend enough where you won’t need to block a Hufflepuff’s shot.

One the seekers is finally successful. As soon as you hear the whistle blow and cheers erupt from the stands, you’re essentially in a nosedive. You hurry to the locker room to put away your broom, not bothering to celebrate with the rest of Gryffindor on the pitch. You repeatedly mutter “ow” with every movement of your left arm. You have one thing on your mind once your broom is safely in your locker: Getting to Madam Pomfrey so she can put you out of your misery.

Sirius spots you as you exit the locker room and within a moment, he’s sprinting to be at your side. Not that he had intentionally been looking for you, but your absence among the rest of the team still on the pitch seemed to stick out like a sore thumb.

“You alright?” he asks slightly out of breath once he catches up to you.

“I will be,” you answer through gritted teeth.

You knew he saw you get hit; everyone in the stands had. There was also about a 50% chance he heard the crack of the bone that accompanied the hit, based on where he had been sitting. The pain in your shoulder is a dull, throbbing ache that stings sharply whenever your arm moves. You lengthen your steps as you weave through the throng of students headed back to the castle. Sirius has no trouble keeping up. But rather than simply follow you to the hospital wing, he decides he has a better plan.

“Wait,” he says with a reached out hand, at which you slow down but don’t stop.

He quickens his pace briefly so he’s right next to you. Then he attempts to pick you up bridal style while you are mid-step. You let out a yelp of pain as your bad arm is wrapped around his neck while the rest of your body falls in ragdoll style.

“What are you doing?” you hiss through the pain coursing through your shoulder.

“Going to carry you…” he replies, still trying to pick you up.

 The students around you start to give the two of you a bubble of space and sideways glances. Murmurs of confusion and annoyance can barely be heard over the rumbling of hundreds of footsteps.

“I got hit in the shoulder. I can walk,” you snap, pulling yourself out of Sirius’ grip and righting yourself. 

You flex the muscles in your face to relax your expression. You walk quicker than you had been in the direction of the hospital wing; Sirius follows, not one to be left behind. And if you’re being honest, you’re not sure why he’s coming with. You are perfectly capable of making it to the wing yourself, and if you were alone, you’d be swearing under your breath at the pain. You don’t, since he’s right there. You don’t want to encourage another attempt to carry you.

A quick examination by Madam Pomfrey tells you that you’ve broken a bone and have major bruising. It’s nothing some magic and an overnight stay in the hospital wing can’t fix. She informs you to pick a bed and she’ll over shortly with some potions and skelegrow. 

Your footsteps, along with Sirius’, echo through the room. It’s without a doubt the cleanest room in all of Hogwarts and you can smell it. The tall windowed walls are lined with cots, uncomfortably thin mattresses covered with equally thin, scratchy sheets. You pick one in the middle. Sirius puts his hands on your waist and your eyes go wide at the sudden contact. 

“Dear Merlin, what are you doing, Black?” you ask, agitation dripping from your voice.

“Helping you up?” he offers meekly.

“I am not made of glass! I can do it myself!”

He backs up, hands raised in front of himself in defense. You wince as you climb gingerly into the bed, having failed at your attempt to avoid putting any pressure at all on your injured arm. 

“I was just…” he starts.

“Trying to help, yeah. I know.” Your voice is tired and your expression is a mix of irritation and pain. You just want the potions from Madam Pomfrey so your arm will stop hurting.

Sirius purses his lips. You’re annoyed, but it’s an annoyance he recognized. It’s the same annoyance that Remus has around every full moon. Remus knows his friends are only trying to be helpful but the pain he’s in causes him to lash out. At least, Sirius thinks, you haven’t said anything hurtful toward him. 

“Do you… do you mind the company?” he asks after a few moments of silence. 

You give him a pitiful glance. Madam Pomfrey still isn’t here with the potions. You sigh.

“Only if you can distract me from this goddamn pain.”

A smile breaks across Sirius’ face as he pulls up a chair to the side of your bed. He is more than willing to recount a prank he pulled on the Slytherins with the help of James. 

[freakenomenon]

the fandom may not be ready for it but I Am. thinking how Ellen and Benny (as a black woman and queer man respectively) were the ones that had their sexuality specifically targeted and distorted ansd it’s simmering in my brain… would love your dissertation on it. what happened to them both feels so especially horrific and it needs to be discussed without the whole jokey tone taken on specifically for Benny’s case. maybw that’s why they appear to be close even through Ted’s constant unreliable pov since they both share a deeply personal and violating experience in relation to who they are that the others wouldn’t understand.

hoo boy. exhales. cracks knuckles.

ill start off like this 

both ellen and benny have it the worst when it comes to the survivors alterations , not ted. ( EVERYONE BOOS ) as well as the fact that AM "hating everyone equally" is simply. a lie. and they're proof of that. its insane to me that , while picking apart everyone's personalities , their flaws , what makes them tick. AM specifically chose to mangle and dehumanize the only queer man , outwardly made him look like some sex-pest brute , and then stripped him of his identity in one fell swoop. As well as reduce the only black person and the only WOMAN to the overly emotional , hysterical , whore. 

it’s incredibly fascinating to me that AM not only reduced them both to the incredibly harmful stereotypes ALREADY forced upon them by the society he turned to rubble with the flip of a switch. But also stripped them of their ability to even express themselves within , and outside of those parts of their identities. I imagine that's why they are seen to be the closest ( element of their characters that i really hated being taken away in the game. benny would not have called ellen an idiot for being scared he wouldn't he wouldn't STOP )

I can’t help but imagine that the only reason benny would have “complied” or at least pretend to comply with the system the other men likely set up with ellen is to. shield himself , create a false narrative and hide the fact that he was gay to protect himself. which, is sadly incredibly accurate to how queer people in the real world often mask their identities to survive. having to conceal a part of themself that they can't change. its also worthy to note that while benny was able to mask , ellen can't just. cover up the fact shes a black woman , she cant hide or run away or deny what she is. and in her situation , she also can't run away from the consequences that come from. Merely existing. “Wrong.” and cant shield herself from the grief and mental strain that comes with that kind of dehumanization by avoiding the elephant in the room all together. 

in my head, ellen and benny didn’t start off. Actually having sexual encounters. i imagine benny tried to get into it the first time , and ultimately was uncomfortable. only to be slapped in the face with the notion of ellen. also being uncomfortable. and still feeling as though it couldn't be avoided. Both of them having this kind of “I only agreed to this because i thought it was what you wanted.” mentality. and actually becoming attached to each other as a result. without the mental burden of thinking that the other only views them as a sexual object

yknow

only to have that all swept from under their feet by AM.

seeing ellen wiping spittle from his mouth and holding his hand and trying to make sure hes safe is genuinely kind of heart wrenching when you think of it from less of a "oh shes the nicest of course shes doing that" and more of her. trying to keep the last scraps of her friendship with the only man who actually cared for her outside of what she can offer him alive , scraping and clawing to stay attached to what used to be her only equal. man.

also about that joke tone thing.

and i hate to talk about ted for more than 5 seconds in a rant that isn't about him. but ill be honest.

people not liking benny as much as they do ted is because they cant sexualize bennys homosexuality the way they do with teds "homosexuality" ( only projected onto him because hes the only one of the five that can be perceived as a "twink" because hes a thinner man. ) because hes not conventionally attractive. in fact its a part of his CHARACTER that hes no longer attractive. and that his sexuality is something genuinely implemented into his character. so they can't be as easily weird in THAT way with benny as they are with ted.

so in turn, they make jokes about him being violated. and dehumanized. guys don't you get it. his weiner is big. laugh guys.

also people genuinely erasing a lot of ted's genuine misogyny in favor of him being the token girlboss gay guy is. i feel like calling genuinely misogynistic men gay is also a problem and. ted is the result of that problem. no he's not gay he just hates women. there is a big difference between not being attracted to women and wanting to see them suffer because they don't "know their place"

TLDR ; benny and ellen IMA GET YOU OUTTA THERE.

[bonkbobl]

make a deal or play a game

ROOSE BOLTON X READER

a/n: guys im gonna be so fr with yall i legitimately dont know where this energy came from but here you go. this contains possibly the longest sex scene i've ever written in my entire history of fic writing and i did get a little carried away. like a little more than carried away. the keys just dont stop click clacking

summary: You find out Roose has been plotting against your King but you know the Northern cause cannot survive with the North divided between the King's loyalists and a Bolton-Karstark army backing their martyred liege lords. You and Lord Bolton need each other more than either of you would care to admit, grasping for power over each other.

warning: DUBCON!!!! as in the dubbiest of cons, power dynamics, forced marriage, roose bolton is secretly a perverted old man, EDGING like a LOT OF EDGING, wet humping??/thigh fucking, dacyrphilia, wait girl he's literally like obsessed with you eeeeeeeee

You were always Robb Starks most trusted advisor, and who was to question why. A ward, offered by one of the Starks most loyal vassal houses for the honor of have you join their family as a ward. Your father practically begged them to raise you when your Lady Mother succumbed to the failed birthing of your baby brother. He hoped one day you may reach a higher station that you'd have been afforded, and how better to reach that than through the Starks. Your father shared a great great, a few times over, great grand parent with Ned, and ever honorable, the Lord Stark agreed to take you in.

But its difficult for a woman to rise up in the world, even harder still, in the midst of a war. Men did not like to make room for women at war but Robb was like your brother. He trusted you. And he trusted your opinion on people. It's because while the Starks held that honor must be of paramount importance, you understood not everyone held that same principle. You make sure Robb doesn't trust everyone as he trusts you.

Trust is a funny thing because you could trust someone with your life but you may not trust them to cook a chicken correctly. You may trust someone to lead a garrison of ten thousand for you and not trust them with a knife in close quarters without a guard behind you. Trust was what you dealt in — advising Robb on deals that he was to make with other Lords, even so far as traveling on his behalf.

Deals, and diplomacy — charms, and words. That was your strength.

Robb Stark insisted that Catelyn take you to the twins to aid in negotiations with Walder Frey, he deferred to you to send letters to Renly and Stannis Baratheon, you were even the one who had sent out the rallying cry at the very beginning of his great war to all his Bannermen. Everyone knew it. He was the brain, you were the mouth. The pretty, cunning, biting mouth of the young wolf.

—————

One issue you were never able to resolve was Roose Bolton. He was cold, calculating, and distant. Though he seemed to care deeply for the Northern cause, you had little to believe he was truly as passionate about Robb as King.

It began with certain issues in which you would honestly take Roose's side instead of Robb's and since you saw Roose as an ideological ally, you would shoot glances at him after Robb declared he'd have his way after all. In those moments, a bitter gaze that lingered a few seconds too long on the King in the North roused suspicion in you.

It wasn't serious. You're sure its the frustration than anyone would feel being brushed aside so many times. But as the social tension within Robbs camp rose, you felt that you must do something about it.

You don't trust Walder Frey. He wouldn't so easily brush aside a slight as heavy as the King in the North refusing his daughter's hand in marriage. He wouldn't trade it so carelessly, not even for a claim in the Riverlands. The fact was that a young boy had made him a promise and quickly threw it all away the moment he got what he needed.

Frey's resentment of all the Paramount liege lords in Westeros already made any alliance between you fragile. Compound it with more insult and well, you just didn't know what you expected from this.

So when you saw a rave flying even in the general direction of the twins, you shot it down.

The Bolton seal, you noted, as you inspected the short scroll.

Tomorrow the white sun will illuminate the darkness clouding your castle. We will dine on fishes and the hour of the wolf will drown out in history. Ensure final preparations are made.

R.B.

As you read it, you could feel blood draining from your face and you really should have gone to Robb immediately but the need to find out what plot was brewing overtook reason. When the men were drinking and dining, you snuck into Roose Bolton's tent.

—————

"Letters, letters..." You muttered. You had already checked his desk but of course the man isn't dense enough to store proof of treachery in the drawer of a desk where any young squire may stumble upon them. So you were rifling through everything, casting aside bulks of chainmail, furs, coats, anything.

As you did, your mind ran endlessly about what might happen. So the Boltons and the Freys. Eliminate them and you're forced to then castrate your own army. We were already outnumbered greatly. Losing the Boltons is a blow we may not survive even if we survive this bloody wedding.

And the reference to the white sun illuminating the darkness was not so easily lost on you. You weren't sure, but coupled with the rising tensions with the Karstark men who currently stood one third of Robb's entire army, you could take a gander to why the white sun of their sigil was mentioned in Roose Bolton's death letter.

"Looking for something?"

Roose's voice cut clear through the room, it even felt like it sliced right through your heart. Well die tonight or die tomorrow night it makes no difference to you. But it makes all the difference to the North.

You should have gone to Robb first. Your foolishness.

You straightened up and flattened the blankets on his cot down. "Just tidying up. Waiting for you, my lord," And you took a deep breath, braving a sultry look on your face before turning around.

"Me?" Roose asked, pure amusement in his voice. You'd have to work to really get him to believe you.

"All this talk of weddings, it's all I hear now. Everyone, everywhere," You hoped your hesitation wasn't visible as you draped your arms around Roose's neck and stared into his eyes.

"And why are you here, my lady, waiting for me."

You sighed, careful not to drop the ruse. Of all men why did it have to be Roose Bolton. Any other man, after not touching a woman for years, wouldn't have questioned the logic of your seduction and you'd at least have a chance to hit him over the head with a lantern, maybe a knife if you're lucky. But Roose hed his gaze with you evenly. Challenging you.

How to get him to trust you...

"Isn't it obvious?" You tilted your head, staring with the biggest pleading eyes you could muster. And you looked at his lips, just a moment of hesitation overtaking you before you leaned in and slowly molded your mouth to his.

Your heart went wild as he kissed you back, a mix of emotions forming. You were still scared for your life but you were also happy that your trick seemed to be working. And under the two dominant emotions, there was a slight hint of something else at play. You chalked up to the scandalousness of it all. It wasn't your main worry, but as a proper lady you were raised to not be caught in close quarters with another unmarried man, especially if you were doing salacious things — or if it looked like you were about to. It was also the first time you'd ever kissed a man.

Not the greatest conditions, but alas, you could care less about a tender kiss or even a few. You just need a distraction and its working. Roose kissed you back so fiercly it made you dizzy. So dizzying that you hadn't realized he reached into your pockets.

When the kiss broke, you stared up at him, his face composed and hard as stone, almost as if it hadn't affected him at all. But his lips were swollen and he stared at you, eyes betraying him to look down at your equally puffy lips and you smirked.

You made sure to hold his gaze and you let your hand trail down his front, teasing just above his crotch. "Celebrate the happy betrothal with me?"

Roose cracked a smile and nodded, a sarcastic hum rumbling from him, "Your nerves give you away, my lady." Your heart sank. "You quiver like a virgin playing at being a whore. It was almost convincing, but..." He held up the letter that you had stolen from the raven.

You let the dread overtake your face and you ran.

But you couldn't even make two steps before Roose pulled you by your wrist, back into his chest.

You struggled for a few seconds but stilled as soon as you felt cool metal under your chin.

"A deal," You spoke quickly, equally as quickly deciding you really didn't like the feeling of a cold blade pressing against the neck, that you very much did like.

"A deal?" Roose breathed the question into your ear. He was so obviously not scared or even wary of you. And you scrambled to keep the upper hand.

"I could always scream instead. You could kill me, make some excuse to cover yourself up, but that excuse wont pass, not for our King's childhood friend. You could run. You'd be dead within the fortnight if they caught you." You hoped that you weren't just spewing bullshit, "The camp is so dense. How likely are you to make it to Frey before one of Robbs catches you first? And your plan would fail. Robb would know something's wrong."

He was permitting you to continue, so you did. He wasn't so much as urging you to continue but rather, watching, knowing you would.

"I could offer your head to our king. But I imagine you wouldn't enjoy that very much. So many options but I propose the best one — you could turn on Frey, tell Robb. Warn him about Karstark, too. Wouldn't you much rather become the new Lord of the Twins than deal with a petty mess?"

Roose considered it for a couple seconds before releasing you. You're right that making you disappear would be a little more annoying that simply a petty mess. He knows he can't just let you go either. He doesn't trust you.

Whats to stop you from running to tell Robb as soon as he let you go anyway? Then he remembers that his soldiers make up the largest portion of Robb Starks army aside from the Karstarks. And that there was his leverage. That's why you were trying to reason with him. Which really means, despite everything, he could even go as far to say that he's the one with the upper hand in this situation.

You, apparently unwilling to inform Robb of his treachery, asking him to warn your King and continue to fight by his side, all you had was a secret that only the two people in this room know. Not a very good hand. You don't even have proof anymore. Roose walked over to his bed, pulling a stack of letters out from a slit in the mattress.

You sighed, kicking yourself. You were so close. And you watched him, walking to the fire at the foot of his bed with his eyes trained on you. You watched helplessly hope was scorched in the flames.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest and only now had you permitted yourself to notice it. Sitting at the edge of his bed, You wiped your forehead.

Roose chuckled. Clever girl, weighing logic and strategy, no trouble following the shifting power between you two. You knew you needed him. You knew Robb needed him. You knew the odds of winning this war was slim already now that the Tyrells had joined the fray. You knew if you gave him a reason, he might slit your little throat tonight. And sure that meant Robb might get the hint not to attend the wedding, but the Northern army would still be crushed within half a year.

And perhaps you valued that pretty little head of yours above all else.

Now, Roose took interest, evaluating you with a new eye, "What is your proposal?"

"You go, tell Robb of the plans but tell him you intended on being a turncoat this entire time."

"And what do I receive in exchange for this act of mercy."

You chuckled, "My many thanks, redemption in the eyes of the Gods," you offered sardonically, knowing the answer would come as too dismissive. You could tell Roose wasn't impresssed, "I can still tell the King, my lord, if it pleases you.

Roose, ever perplexed by your mind, drew closer but stowed his knife back in his holster, behind him. He made it so that you had to tilt your head up to look at him. "Do not think for a second that you might have the upper hand in this position, my lady. I say that, not as a threat, but as advice. Know when you do not have the upper hand. Know when to serve."

You glared up at him, scanning his eyes, baffled by his audacity. You are— "I am a—"

"Stark Ward. But not a Stark. If you go to Robb, you have no proof. I might have my own story. You and Greyjoy, bitter that you'd never truly be accepted into the Stark family plotted the demise of the King in the North, who I so faithfully served up until now. There is no reason for Robb to view me with less trust than you... The King may grow weary with paranoia. First his brother... then he doesn't know to trust his closest advisor or his sister. "

"But you---"

"I am guilty. And you have no evidence. You are asking for a favor. Tell me, what difference does it make if the King dies tomorrow or three months later on the Battlefield without my men to back him." he questioned, enunciating each word clearly, staring down at you.

You cursed yourself for sitting. The scare was not over, you should have realized. Even if the cold blade was no longer physically at your neck, Roose Bolton still had a knife to you.

"What do you want?"

He chuckled, "One day I will have a need for you. And that day, you will obey. You owe me your life, my lady. And the King's life."

You glared at the ground, wishing you could say something of his arrogance, "And Robb?"

"I will tell him of the plans. And you will not tell him the truth. Any time you think you want to tell the young wolf what we discussed in these chambers remember that it is your pretty neck and your reputation that may be in my hands." Roose gave you one last look, then whispered, "Go on now. Back to your tent."

You stood, meeting him with one last glare.

He smiled sweetly at you, nodding, "I thoroughly enjoyed the display."

—————

Your promise to Roose Bolton loomed over you every day for a month. You spent your days watching his actions closely to know when he was plotting anything, but he's yet to step blatantly out of turn.

He was showered with honors for being savior at the Red Wedding, not only becoming the official Lord presiding over the Twins, but he was given a large portion of the remaining Karstark forces, which thankfully very few deserted the King in the North after the victory at the Twins. Roose sent his Bastard to serve in his stead at Karhold, which was now under close surveillance for their treachery.

You paled to hear these developments. Because in truth you still failed to trust Roose Bolton though you hoped these gifts from the King in the North sweetened the pot enough for him to follow through with his promise to you. You simply shivered at the obscene amount of power that was showered to him.

So long as he retained the upper hand you would continue to be unsettled. You wish he would just tell you what he wants from you quickly so that you may get it over with. Really, something you think he just enjoys watching you squirm.

"Milk of the Poppy," Talisa said calmly.

And you moved to argue with your queen but hearing the screams of agony of the man being tended you, you decided there was a time and place.

The queen finished up with him quickly and turned back to you. That's when you started, "My Queen, I'm sure you're tired of hearing. And I, more than anyone else here understand your concern for the wellbeing of unnamed Lannister boy-soldiers."

Talisa, laughed, ducking her head in preparation for your words.

"But truly... Milk of the Poppy?" You pleaded, "I know it may seem cruel but it's really more of a luxury in wartime than anything. Perhaps that can be saved for the men fighting for our King."

Your queen met your eyes again but then at something behind you. Turning, you saw Roose speaking with Robb. Robb glanced at you, spoke something back to the Dreadlord and patted his arm before making his way to you. Roose spared you a glance before walking in the other direction, toward his tent.

"I'll take your words into consideration, my lady," Talisa reassured, "I understand. Thank you for stating your opinion calmly and without judgement."

You smiled in sympathy, knowing the men in the army could be quite rough around the edges with their opinions.

Talisa started again, taking some time to gather her tools "My husband is coming. I think he wants to speak with you."

Robb came up to the two of you, placing a hand on the small of Talisa's back, pressing a kiss to her cheek and whispering something short in her ear.

"I'll leave you to it then," Talisa said sweetly and left to find more sick to tend to.

As soon as she did, Robb's features were cast with a stern seriousness. You evaluated it, wondering if it had anything to do with Roose Bolton's conversation with him just moments before.

"What is it?" You asked.

Robb sighed, "You don't have to agree. You can think on it for a while. I know it can be daunting seeing as I'm almost sure he's older than father."

"What is it?" You pressed urgently.

"Roose Bolton asked for my blessing to take your hand in marriage."

Your heart sank, the full weight of the deal you made with Roose falling on your shoulders.

"I gave him my blessing as I have no reason not to. But I warned him that I cannot force you to be amenable." With a laugh, Robb tried to cheer you up but to no avail, "I even warned him you shared Arya's disdain for marriage from a young age."

You simply nodded, expressionless and quickly muttered something to dismiss yourself and you ran straight for Roose Bolton's tent.

—————

The route to Roose's tent felt quick, like you had stormed off from Robb and landed right at his door. Your anger bubbled at your throat and you could hardly wait before storming in and yelling at the man sat at his desk.

"So that's it?" You asked, bewildered, "That's how you aim to make me repay my debt?"

Roose didn't even look up at you as he continued to write on a small strip of parchment. "It seems with my sudden acquisition of the Twins, even if I legitimize my bastard, it will not be enough to sustain my achievements. I'm in dire need of heirs. You owe me a favor."

You were speechless for a second and you felt a laugh be punch out of your chest, the mere ridiculousness — the scale of this favor. "A favor, my lord, usually doesn't include a lifelong bind. A favor, I would imagine is a one and done type of deal." Marching to the side of his table, you attempted to command his attention, "Was the twins not enough? Was having your bastard installed as acting Lord of Karhold not enough?"

Roose looked up at you, calmly speaking. "I'd like to remind you, my lady, that had I not warned the King in the North of the Freys and Karstarks treachery, I'd have been named Warden of the North by the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

Closing your mouth, you huffed, amazed by this mans blatant selfishness. Titles.

"The Twins, and temporary reign over the Karstark maneuvers pales in comparison to what I had abandoned."

"Well you our deal wasn't for me to make that loss up to you, it was so you could keep your head and remain loyal to King Robb." You shook your head, "I wont do it. If you're the pragmatic, power hungry man you claim to be, why don't you plot your way into some other lady's bed — someone who could give you another stronghold to place your seed upon? I'd just be a cow to breed, nothing else to gain from there"

"A pretty cow to breed with a respectful name and no brothers to take your family home. I'd say you're as good a match as any."

You gasped at his blatant disrespect, blood rising to your head, and you landed a firm slap to his face. You even went for seconds but he grabbed your wrist firmly. You tried to pull it away but he wouldn't let you.

"Of course, we'll have to do something about that temper of yours once we are wed," He warned, pulling you a little harshly — not too rough but enough to make you fall forward and catch yourself on his table. He stood, circling around the table, as casually as he could managed but he did adjust his jaw from the slap you landed on him. "Your spirit and smart mouth have done you well in the past but only when they are in company with your wits. Don't go losing those wits and getting yourself in trouble. As I'm sure you are aware, there are dangerous men lurking in times of war."

"Dangerous men like you," You pushed yourself off the table and faced him again, crossing your arms, "I owe you my life. What happens if I decide I'd rather die than marry you?"

"Then what will be protecting your King, if not your life?"

That took any retort out of your mouth, as this was not an avenue you'd expected him to take. You stuttered dumbly for a moment. "M-my King? What of him? They—... House Frey and the Karstarks have been dealt with. You—"

"I can still betray him. He trusts me now more than ever. If I write to Tywin Lannister detailing how the plan had been spoiled and I explain that I'd counted our losses and regained the trust of the King so that we may try again well, that'd be easy enough," He stared down at you and said the next part clearly, "You are the only thing stopping me from doing so. If you'd rather die..."

You shook your head at him, scowling. The entire North, dependent on what you say to this man. "I don't want to marry you," you stood your ground as well as you could, "Anything else, I'll do."

Roose looked to the ground next to you, "Well then," He sighed.

Then he glanced back at you, giving you a lazy once over.

He sighed again, this time more sure, straightening his back and that's when you knew he'd had an idea.

You didn't like him getting ideas. You don't like his mind and the thoughts he spins.

"Another deal. A game, more like."

You didn't trust the slight tinge of a smile. Really you just didn't trust or like this man. Every moment you're in his tent feels like a gamble. "What game?" You especially hate the idea of playing his games. Right into the bear trap, it felt like.

Where you excelled in proposing deals that suited the interests of both sides perfectly, the Boltons were infamous for creatively constructing games that were rigged from the start, in their favor.

"Part of it is that you have to figure out the rules," He smiled.

You should have known the odds were against you. They always were when it came to Roose Bolton. How does one negotiate with a man like him?

Your attention was drawn back to him when his hand came up to the pin that secured your cloak to your shoulders. He undid the on on the right, then the one on your left. And you could do nothing but watch it fall to the floor, heart racing, because suddenly you understood.

Why did you have to say "Anything"?

Of course... You watched him, his clenched jaw, barely holding back from just ripping your clothes off, and you realized: Roose Bolton is just like any other man. He only wants one thing. Married to you or not.

One and done, you wondered, Is that better?

He pulled the laces securing your dress in the front, watching his eyes greedily take in your chest as more of it was exposed. Soon, your dress hugged your waist and shoulders, barely covering your top half.

You smacked his hand away as it reached under the fabric draping at your shoulders.

The silent question in your eyes was What the fuck do you think you're doing?

Roose simply chuckled softly, “Letting me see your tits is not as bad as marrying me, is it, my lady?” Dark intentions coated his syrupy smooth voice and it made you shiver.

Breathing a long, angry sigh, you looked up at him, “I could just kill you.”

“Even if you managed, your king desperately needs Bolton men. They'll only follow a Bolton,” He spoke matter of factly, tugging your sleeves so they fell off your shoulders.

He's right. The Starks and the Boltons had no love for each other. Centuries of hate. Many Karstarks remained loyal to Robb because of the history of love between the houses. There was no such history between the Starks and Boltons.

The cool air hit your exposed skin. “Trust me,” Roose smiled satisfied with the sight before him, taking a firm handful of your breast, caressing over it and pinching the nipple as he let go, “You’d rather handle me than deal with my bastard.”

You shivered and took several steps back from him and his touch, and moved to cover your breasts with your hands as well as you could.

You’d definitely heard about his bastard. From what you knew, he was a more unhinged, less predictable version of Roose, more willing to get his hands dirty, more eager to act. You stood and let Roose’s eyes rake over your body, disgust bubbling at your throat.

“So conveniently, my best option is to either marry you or let you fuck me and ruin any marriage prospects in my future?”

“Who said anything about fucking?” Roose raised his brow, playing innocent, “I just want to see you, touch you... feel you touch me. I wont put anything inside your cunt unless you ask me to.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, you dont trust his mercy, especially the last clause. Unless you ask him to. Why in seven hells would you ask him to? “What do you want me to do?”

Roose smirked widely and the look should have terrified you — you’ve never seen such twisted joy on a persons face before, especially not stoic Roose Bolton.

He stepped closer to you once more, hands coming to cradle your face and neck gently. Your hands instinctively followed, grabbing his wrists cautiously. Though a hint of that devious smirk lingered, he looked at you with gentleness between his eyes, “Lets start with another kiss,” He said, condescension lacing his voice, “seeing as my lady was so eager the last time we saw each other.”

You couldnt help but fall a little under his spell, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to figure out why you felt dizzy with him so close to you, cold eyes darting all over your face. Why your mind whirred with the memory of how hungrily he responded to you last time you were in his tent. You wondered if perhaps you had sparked something in him. If that was why he was so insistent.

You nodded softly, so soft that upon thinking on it, you wondered if it was even noticable. But Roose had been watching you closely for any sign of submission and he closed the gap between you before you could move to do anything else.

He noted how you tensed just as his lips met yours and he carefully took your hands, guiding them to wrap around his neck. You tried to relax into it as much as possible and kiss him back, but it proved difficult until his arms came around and pulled you closer to him.

His bare hand on your back made you jolt and he chuckled deeply, the rumble of it making you shy away. "Roose," You started, unsure of what you would say. That you already need a break?

Roose ignored you, hands coming back up to cup your breasts, "Fucking gorgeous. And you've been right in front of me this entire time," He spoke so lowly you almost thought he was muttering to himself. But his eyes trained on you told you different.

He leaned down the few extra centimeters to meet your lips again, this time toying with your hardened buds as he did. Your hand shot up to grab his wrist but he just pinched in response. You squealed, lips parting from his but he kept you held close.

"Behave."

You whined, glaring at him, your dignity clinging to any sliver of hope it had of remaining intact.

Roose glared right back and took your hand, leading you toward his cot. He sat you on his lap and again, turned his attention toward your chest after kissing you a few times. This time, his lips wrapped around the bud on your right while his hand toyed with the other.

You tensed as a moan threatened to escape you, especially with his tongue circling around the way it did. When he sucked and continued that technique at the same time it was difficult not to enjoy. To be honest, you didn't even know a man could enjoy a woman's body like this — so shamelessly lewd. But he promised no penetration. You assume that means he deigns to make use of your body in any other way.

It was quickly proving to be too much. You grunted a few times when moans caught in your throat, gutteral noises and sighs to keep the really embarrassing noises down. But even that was wearing thin. Your hand shot up to his head and tugged at his hair. Your back arched into him, body twitching when he'd trigger a sensitive nerve.

And before you could stop it, you sighed something a little too audible, too close to a full moan. You began trying to push his head away.

Roose grabbed your hands firmly, pushing them away and gave you a small nip as a warning. You yelped, staring at him incredulously. Then he switched to your more neglected nipple.

This same torture continued for far too long, but the result was worse than the torture itself, because you couldn't deny the pool forming in your small cloths. The pleasure of him toying with your sensitive buds just goes straight down there. You can't help it.

"My lord, h-how much more."

"I'll play with you until I'm satisfied, darling," He answered cooly, "Don't ask again."

You nodded, looking at his intense, watchful eyes. And he crashed his lips on yours again. This time, he reached beneath all the heavy layers of your skirts and pulled your breeches down. You helped him kick them off.

When the pads of his finger met your cunt, they circled around in search but he cut his search off, chuckling at what he found. You pulled away from his lips, hiding in his shoulder because you already knew what he was laughing at.

"Look at my little whore. Never been touched like this, have you? You're going to let me ruin you for your King?"

You groaned, feeling his fingers gather your slick, then he found a bundle of nerves. It felt like when he was licking your nipples— the way it tingled down there— but he was touching the exact source of it. Sometimes you'd cross your legs or gyrate your hips against a pillow and feel the same way but Wow you always thought that sensation was coming from something deeper inside you. Turns out its right there. Right at the front of your vulva.

And Roose knew. You gripped his knee and spread your legs for him as he toyed with you in ways you hadn't even known to toy with yourself. Your lips fell open but you wouldn't allow a single sound to come out, though you knew this would be far more difficult to bear than what he was doing previously.

Your body would twitch and tense up under his ministrations. Something was building within you. You'd felt this kind of feeling, grinding against soft pillows, but then the feeling would die after a little while. You'd walk away satisfied with the morsel of pleasure.

But with Roose, it wasn't going anywhere. It kept building and building.

Eventually, you thought that perhaps an end to the build was near but he diverted his fingers, playing with your opening instead, gathering more slick.

You calmed yourself, taking a few breaths to calm yourself. You looked down to see Roose staring at you, eyes hooded with a dark cloud of lust, lips parted, just taking you in like you were the most interesting, captivating thing he's ever seen.

His finger teased your entrance, pushing slightly and you ripped your gaze away from his intense eyes, studying you. Gods... Oh gods. You rolled your hips but he pulled his hand away finally.

Roose wiped his hand on your skirt. "Do you like being touched by me?"

You refused to answer, turning your head and looking anywhere else. Weakly, you shook your head no.

"Don't lie," he scolded.

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, brows furrowed, confusion behind your eyes, wondering how your body could betray you like this. But its just biology. Simple as that.

"You came close."

"Close to what?"

That made Roose smirk wider, a twinge of surprise and excitement, "Close to a release that some women can achieve while fucking." Roose took a second to compose himself before continuing, "A release that you won't experience tonight, unless it's around my cock."

Fear filled you, "You said you wouldn't."

"No, I wont," Roose cooed, a false comfort, "Not until you ask."

"I wont."

"We'll see, darling," He moved his arms from you and nudged your behind a little, "Up. Take off your dress."

You stood and obeyed, albeit hesitantly. He also took to stripping himself, but left on his small clothes. You, having already rid yourself of your breeches, were bare as the day you were born once you took off your dress.

Roose, with a hand to your waist, pulled you into him, standing in between his legs and he pressed a kiss to your stomach, trailing down to your dripping cunt. You shuddered at the thought of his tongue circling around that spot the way it circled your nipple. You don't think you could bear that.

Unfortunately for you, that was exactly what Roose had in mind. He lifted your leg so that your foot rested on the edge of his bed, which sat low on the ground. It's height provided the perfect angle for him to duck under and lick a flat stripe over your clit.

Your cunt convulsed and you were embarrassed for it because unlike your moans, you could not hide the reactions of your cunt as easily. His tongue dipped a little further, barely dipping into your hole to taste you and collect your essence on his tongue.

He groaned into you, the vibration making you bite your lip. He feasted on you like a starved man, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves and gently shaking his head as he sucked. Each time he flicked his tongue sent shocks through your body and you'd buck your hips against his face.

Even just the image that you were met with when you looked down— Roose Bolton burying his face into those parts...

If him licking your nipples was considered lewd, you didn't know how to describe this correctly. You hadn't even realized that men did this in the first place. Frankly it felt like something a man like Roose would normally consider to be too debasing and submissive.

There was nothing submissive about the way Roose licked up your juices. This was a man who was confident he held all the power and you'd be stupid to underestimate him.

Whines, real wanton whines pushed through your throat, filling the open air of his tent and that only seemed to spur him on. You submitted to it, feeling his hand come under your buttock and his other wrap around your waist. He then hoisted you up in the air and gently laid you down on the bed.

Roose not so gently spread your legs and settled between them, continuing his treatment on you.

Again the coil in your core tightened impossibly tight and just as you thought you'd reach some higher pleasure. He pulled away, peppering kisses to your thigh to calm you. You breathed heavily, staring at the ceiling.

This time, having him stop was frustrating. You cant lie. And you had a feeling you were in for a rather long night. Your hand twitched, almost wanting to give yourself the pleasure that he refused but you knew Roose would not let you. This was his game.

The game where you win if you steel through and manage to out last him.

You whimpered, legs quaking softly when he carefully bent and flicked his tongue against your clit again. Even, at this point, the feeling of his stubbled cheeks brushing your inner thigh was almost too sensitive to bear. Your body was responding to everything.

Soon you were bucking against his face, cursing the gods, and repeating the process again and again.

He learned what you liked quickly and tried everything under the sun. Dipping his tongue into you, he brought you just to the precipice of something amazing by fucking you with nothing but his mouth.

Once you had settled from the near high a fourth time, Roose pulled your body closer to him and through his lustblown eyes. He whispered to you as his fingers came to tease your entrance again, "May I?"

You looked down at him, biting your lip and you wanted to say yes. Your entire being begged for it. But your pride told you to say, "Do I have a choice?"

He merely chuckled at the loss of any desire to argue within you, and he plunged two thick fingers into your cunt. You cried out, the stretch somewhat shocking to you. But you were so wet that it really just felt nice, despite being foreign.

The noise you made was something you didn't even think could be produced within you. You moved to cover your face, laughing into them neverously because holy shit you need to get a hold of yourself. You need to. You've never felt this weak in the hands of someone else.

His fingers filled you nicely but you dreaded to admit it wasn't enough. And you didn't like how stiff they felt inside you. Something softer might feel more like it belongs. something longer and thicker... Something like—

Roose growled and that noise brought you out of your trance. You stared at him for a second, his eyebrows knit together frustratedly. His fingers did their work inside your cunt while his mouth continued to torture your clit.

"Fuck! Ahhh... fuck fuck—" You groaned, gritting your teeth together as you tried to keep yourself up to watch him.

You breathlessly but sort of victoriously took note of his clear frustration. You were proving to be more stubborn than he bargained for, you assume. But he was persistent too. There was no mistaking who had the power here.

He groaned, pumping his fingers into you. It was difficult not to imagine how it would feel when you finally gave in to him. So he let you know, "Your cunt loves me, my lady. You feel it clenching around me. You're so desperate for more. All you have to do is ask."

"Eat shit," you choked out. You meant to say it more confidently, less weak and shuddery but it created the same effect within Roose as it would have either way.

His lips returned, doing only what garnered the strongest reactions from you. And you were tumbling back down the hill again.

Of course he stopped, again.

You needed more than a second to recover from that one. What was it? Five rounds of the same torture. Your body was sure to be feeling the effects of it. Your cunt continued to twitch around nothing after his fingers were unceremoniously pulled out.

You lay there, unable to do anything but watch him clean off his fingers with his mouth. And it was hot because he didn't necessarily make a show of it. Ever the practical man, he probably only used his mouth because it was the easiest, cleanest solution. But you'd never seen anything so salacious and wrong.

Well, you concede, perhaps its not wrong, just something you, again, wouldn't thought of doing. It made your hips wriggle involuntarily and your cunt clench around nothing again, missing his fingers stretching and making you feel a little closer to whole.

Roose made quick work, ridding himself of his breeches and shirt.

You barely had enough time to appreciate the defined lines of his body, toned, even at his age because he stayed active.

He's undeniably handsome. If he wasn't so evil you'd have jumped at the chance of marrying him. Even now, staring at him, the man in control of your pleasure, you wondered if being married to him would even be so bad.

And his cock... You glanced at it, then trained your eyes back on his icy gaze. He cant see you staring down there, he'll get the wrong idea like he's winning or something. But the image was burnt into your mind. You could end your suffering now and beg him to put it inside you. You could.

But then your pride jumped in and told you to stop acting a fool.

He climbed up the bed, staying to one side of you, then wrapped his arm under you, kissing you briefly. Very briefly. So briefly that when he pulled away, you felt trained to chase after his lips, expecting more. The very accidental admittance of submission was not lost on either of you, an approving chuckle leaving him as he flipped your body on its tummy.

He crawled over you, snaking a hand under your stomach to pull you up and your entire backside felt his bare skin upon it. You bit your lip to stop yourself from whimpering at that feeling alone, again your cunt whined and begged you to just give in. Its right there, hard and pressing against your ass.

It was dizzying, the entire experience. You'd been denied so many times.

"Remember the rules," he murmured in your ear before taking a small bite and kissing down it. "Keep your thighs tight. Until you're ready to spread them like the good little slut you are." And with that, he used his free hand to slip his cock between your damp thighs.

You'd been so stripped of any and all resistance that the dominant emotion filling you was pride at his praise, calling you a good little slut. Something so debasing shouldn't stir you this much.

You were shocked at the warmth, initially scared that he was trying to slip it inside your cunt without you noticing, but Roose stayed true to his word. He wasn't going to put it in unless you asked, unless got to the point of wanting to beg him to. That didn't mean he couldn't put it right next to the entrance to tempt you.

It took him all but two seconds to begin slowly thrusting into the crack of your thighs and you wondered if it was supposed to feel like anything for you because it felt really amazing.

It wasn't as intense as his lips on your cunt but it was more tempting. The head of his cock, when his hips would slap against your ass, would grind deliciously over your clit. You whimpered each time it happened. It was all so wet and warm down there, his cock doing nothing but spreading the mess between your thighs.

His hand came around you to grab your neck, pulling you up so that he could fuck your thighs, using you as leverage. Your cunt pulsed with desire again, wishing he'd angle his hips incorrectly on accident and it'd just slip inside.

Please just slip inside. Please, please. Please slip in.

"Fuck, Roose, It... Its so... please," You said without even thinking

A dark chuckle vibrated right next to your ear. He chewed your lobe and kissed the top of your jaw. "Tell me."

"I... mmm nothing, nothing. I..." You growled frustratedly, burrying your face in the pillow.

Tears pricked your eyes.

The frustration was really getting to you.

Five times denied.

Your hips met him, rolling back to make his thrusts easier and he growled, landing a firm smack to your buttock. You cried out into the pillow.

Having had enough of your muffled cries, Roose pulled you up, situating your neck in the crook of his arm and he hoisted you up to your knees, cock still pumping drenched between your thighs.

It was pure debauchery. Unadulterated debauchery. You felt dirty and you couldn't even bother to be embarrassed by it. You just wanted him to have an accident and slip in. But you knew Roose. You knew he was too careful.

You had to give in first.

Your heart sank, realizing this could go on for so much longer. If he really wanted to, he could release right now, between your thighs and toy with your body mercilessly until he's ready to try with his cock again. He could go on for much much longer than you could ever dream of.

Especially in this position, it was difficult not to imagine him spearing you, your walls clenching and welcoming him instead of your thighs.

Gods, the way he was just using your body. Any part of your body. You were dizzy with pleasure and longing.

“Roose just do it, you win. Fuck me, please,” You spoke through sobs. Frustrated tears trickled down your cheeks.

Roose slowed his movements but that only made your wanting worse. Your thighs literally quivered for him. He took one look at the tear streaks on your face, not having noticed the fact that you were fucking crying for his cock, since your face had just been buried in the pillows a second ago. Roose's heart nearly had a tender little lapse, but it instead, swelled his pride to see you so desperate.

He wiped your tears away with his free hand and kissed your cheek. He wasn't completely done toying with you. He had to make sure you understood what it meant to be fucked by him. Truly understood. “And take my lady’s maidenhead? Will any respectable man take you to be his bride then?”

Your heart sank deeper than it ever had, real dread filling you. You finally understood his play here.

“Of course, as an honorable man, It’d be my duty to inform them of your compromised purity. Tell them this little whore's been tainted.”

He'd riled you up this far. You thought naively that he simply wanted you to admit defeat that you desired him as much as he desired you before taking you passionately.

In reality he wasn't going to let you go even after you gave in. The second another lord comes along for your hand in marriage, Bolton will reveal this little tryst you've had.

This was his goal since the beginning.

Marriage to you has been his goal since the very beginning of this little parlay.

You whined, stomach twisting because your dignity has become a whispered scream within you, telling you not to give in. But your psychology, your biology, everything else was screaming for him. He wanted not just to fuck you but to own you.

Your thighs tightened and you grinded against his long shaft. Still in the weakest attempt to remain stubborn, you stuttered, “Just… only a little, my lord. Only the top part. If you must. But please dont put it all in. Not far enough to break the… m-my maidenhead.”

That was the moment both of you knew you lost. You'd say it was stubbornness. Maybe that's what it was. Maybe you just liked feeling helpless under him, knowing what was inevitable.

Roose reached down, the strain that his smirk had on his cheeks being felt against yours. You're happy he's happy. Truly, you are. It twists your stomach again. You think if your stomach twists again you'll just melt into Roose Bolton. Completely at his mercy.

You whimpered as he used his hand to guide his cock to your entrance and pushed in, only far enough for the tip. Breathy moans tumbled out of you, all effort to hide them completely foregone. You threw your head back against his chest, eyes closed, enjoying the teasing feeling of just his cockhead stretching you.

He alternated between faster pumps and slow ones where you could feel his tip just barely broaching your entrance before pulling away again. He liked to feel your cunt try to suck him into you. Could you get any wetter? Any more ready to take him?

You tried to cheat, you'll admit it. Bucking your hips back, but he always managed to follow your movements, not giving you a single bit more than what you asked for. Tears pricked your eyes again but your heart soared from it. You're at his mercy completely.

“Whats wrong, my lady, you seem distressed.” He wiped a tear away from the corner of your eye, threatening to fall. And the way you whined at that moment, so frustratedly, almost like you hated him, like you might kill him if you had the chance... it actually managed to crack Roose’s composure and he laughed a good hearty laugh from the bottom of his chest.

Still smiling, he tilted his head, giving a condescending hum of mock sympathy.

Roose took your chin in his hand so he can get a good look at you as he continued to tease the tip of his cock in and out of you. Your big eyes looking up at him and begging, begging. He would love to give in but you have to say it.

“I am but your loyal and humble servant. I only do what is bid of me.”

“Fuck me,” You crack, the words coming out not as intelligible words but as part of your moans.

He hummed a deep and clear “Hm?” Pretending he didnt hear but he did. You know he did.

“Please, fuck me.”

“And...”

“Please fuck me and marry me," You forced out, you cringed at the way your voice sounded, so whiny you would have thought it to be annoying and too high pitched. But it deepend the clouds of lust behind your lord's eyes. It made you keep going "Please, my lord, take me as your bride. Fuck me and then save my honor from ruin.”

Your eyes fluttered close, shutting tightly. You expected more taunting from him, anything, but you forced your eyes back to him when you felt his hot breath on your cheek, then his nose ghosting over as well. He pushed his cock in a little past the tip and you whimpered, grateful, melting into him. Your stomach twisted again. Your legs were so so so weak.

Roose tilted his head, leaning in closer and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When he parted, you blinked, looking up into his striking blue eyes and you whimpered again because he thrusted back in, deeper, only slightly, but he met the little barrier within you and you braced yourself for the striking blow.

He captured your lips more roughly this time as he pushed through, claiming you as his. Your soft squeaks of pain and pleasure getting lost in his mouth. Roose pumped his cock in and out, slowly, waiting for you to stop tensing.

When your ass twitched upward against him, he took that as the permission. Your lips disconnected from each other, both of you left gasping. You stopped trying to hide your pleasure long ago.

Your husband to be let go of you, letting you fall down back to the bed and you caught yourself on your elbows. He grabbed your hips, using your body mercilessly as you damn near sobbed from pleasure.

The view of you bent over for him, the side of your face pressed into the sheet and submissively crying out for him was almost too much. Roose braced himself to last longer but it seemed you were also tumbling embarrassingly quickly to your release after having been denied the pleasure five times over.

"Perhaps tonight," Roose paused to grunt and in his deep, baritone, it was just too good, you whined in response, "Tonight, I will put our first baby in you. A bastard, but no one else but you and I will be privy to that technicality."

"Yes," You shook beneath him, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. And as your cunt tightened around him, Roose knew you were close.

"Beg," was the one worded command, and having learned your lesson, you obeyed nearly immediately.

"Please, let me release. Please, let me carry a son for you, husband. Whatever you need from me, please."

Roose could not deny such sweet words, he came inside you with a few purposeful jerks of his hips and you shuddered for it, the pleasure feeling as if it could blind you if you were even the slightest bit more wound up than you were in this moment. You were unaware of the fact that your pussy, having a mind of its own, continued to pulse, milking Roose Bolton for everything he had to offer.

The sizable load immediately spilled out onto the sheets after your intended slipped out of you. You laid there afterward, with your ass up, desperately attempting to recollect yourself as quick as possible.

You moved to get up but Roose landed a firm but not too painful smack on your ass. It wasn't too hard but in your state, it succeeded in knocking you back down to your hands with how weak your legs were.

"That's for striking me earlier," He said, icily, then he handed you a cup of water, waiting for you to take it before he started to wipe away at the mess he'd left between your legs with a spare rag of his.

The act was more tender than you'd have expected from Roose, especially when he pressed a small, short kiss to your buttock and gave it another playful smack.

"Stubborn little wife."

That brought a pleasant little heat to your cheeks.

[spitfirerose]

Been looking at PLZA theories and speculations, so here's my own two cents.

Buckle up, kids. In this essay, I will...

Explain that you can't have a game set in Kalos feat. AZ & Floette without the Ultimate Weapon. Let's say the Urban Redevelopment Project is being used by our potential villain(s) to accomplish their goals under the radar. Do they want to become immortal by being within its radius? Bring back someone from the dead? Or perhaps wish to wipe an entire region off the map? Are they working alone, or is someone else manipulating them and using their power and influence to get what *they* want, since they wouldn't be able to on their own?

Whichever the case, the Ultimate Weapon *needs* Pokémon as a power source. *A lot* of Pokémon. It sure would be convenient to have a full supply of "wild" Pokémon available in the City to harvest at their leisure. No one would notice them missing. They're meant to be captured, after all. Perhaps these strange disappearances are investigated by Looker & Emma, especially if people's Pokémon begin to vanish as well (the aforementioned "incidents" occurring in the City). And hey, if those Pokémon aren't enough, there's always that peculiar Floette said to have lived for thousands of years. She could probably recharge the Ultimate Weapon as many times as desired. All the villain(s) need to do is lure her away from AZ. They could do it themselves, or enlist the aid of a certain rival that just happens to live and work there, and is just so, so happy to support their boss with whatever he needs.

Secret villain Urbain/Taunie and my life is yours. Seriously, their names are literally a reference to the Project. It is time, GameFreak. Everyone and their mothers suspect Jett & Vinnie, it would be perfect.

Anyway.

You may be wondering what purpose will Xerneas and Yvetal serve in the meantime? In X and Y, the Legendaries were used by Team Flare to start up the Ultimate Weapon (unlike AZ who didn't need them). There's any number of ways for them to return (Hoopa shenanigans, XY Protag released them, there's more than one, etc.), and since this is a Legends game, both will be available. If one villain wishes to revive a beloved companion, they may be after Xerneas. The other wishing for death and destruction will have their sights on Yvetal. Just like with deciding to team up with the Diamond/Pearl Clan to ultimately determine if Dialga or Palkia are caught first, it will be up to the player to decide what order they want to rescue the Legendaries in.

It doesn't really matter though, since the lives of people and Pokémon will be at stake regardless of player choice. That's where Zygarde comes in, except this time Squishy is not our friend. All of Lumiose City *will* be destroyed if Complete Form Zygarde isn't stopped from trying to clean up the true villain's mess (by creating an even bigger one, of course). It's up to you, the player, to deform Voltron and save the day. Maybe with a little villain redemption while everyone takes shelter in Hotel Z....as a treat.

As a bonus, it's revealed that the reason Zygarde took an interest to you at the start (aside from being the Chosen One™️) is that you remind them of the XY Protag aka your half-sibling. I see you, Sycamore and Grace. I see you.

Anyway that concludes this essay. It's too cool of a concept to be canon because they're all cowards, but damn if it wouldn't be incredible, game-of-the-year material.

[smiley-mcdoggington]

Okay but ford and Stan playing a an punishment game. It starts out innocently enough and first, lose a bet and the loser has to wear their clothes backwards or something equally embarrassing. But tweedle dee and tweedle dumb ass over here keep amping it up until whoops stan has to now where a vibrating plug when they walk around their next port town

ANOTHER!!!!! TW GRUNKLE FUNKLING TW PUBLIC HUMILIATION TW PUBLIC INDECENCY TW OMORASHI (just a little) TW COLLARS (Blank has made them grow on me) TW IMPLIED/REFERENCED PROSTITUTION (kind of)

"This was not the deal, Six."

Ford hummed. "You were the one that set the stakes, Stanley - one minute for every dollar lost, and you lost 150." He said, not looking up from the battery cover with the tiny, impossible screw. "Weren't you the one that said "business as usual until the plug is out?"

"You didn't tell me we were getting to port today." Stanley put his hands on his hips.

"Would you have let me wait if I lost, Stanley?" He asked rhetorically, and Stanley huffed.

"Yes." He lied, and Ford only chuckled.

"We both know you wouldn't. Now," He set the plug with its new batteries on the table in front of him. "We need to get this in you before we leave.

"I'm not going."

"Yes you are."

"Stanford, come on."

"You made your bed, Stanley, you could always just pay me the money you owe."

"You know I'm saving up for Soos's wedding."

"Then you shouldn't have made that bet."

"Fine, but I'm doing it myself, you touch it you buy it." He huffed, and Ford quirked an eyebrow before sliding the bottle of lube over. Stan was being a stubborn old goat, but he'd snap out of it within the next two and a half hours, Ford was sure.

Stan snatched up the bottle and the plug and stormed out of the galley and into their quarters. Ford stood the second the door clicked shut and went over to listen in. Stan was quieter than him, now. He was sure it hadn't been that way when they were teens but now his noises were scarce. Ford didn't mind it, he knew Stanley would fake it for him if he mentioned it, but he liked Stanley being genuine with him.

Now Stan didn't make much of a sound, even if the furious wet noises were more than enough to know what he was doing. His breath started stuttering a little, Ford almost couldn't catch it over the sound of the dock outside, but he prided himself in being very observant. Ford could imagine what every stutter was - Stan holding his breath, clenching down on his fingers to make them feel bigger for a second. Stan swore by it helping with prep, Ford could prove him wrong if it weren't so cute.

Then the slick noises slowed until Ford couldn't hear them, then Stanley's breath stuttered almost into a pant for air, and for a minute he just listened to Stanley breathe.

"Hey!" Stan called suddenly. "Ford!"

Ford opened the door without hesitation, eyes already zeroed in on Stan sitting on their bed, leaned back enough Ford could see a peek of bright synthetic pink behind Stanley's balls. "Yes, Stanley?" He asked, already tilting his head to see how much of the plug he'd be able to see before Stanley knocked his knees together rudely.

"What if - how do I - I can't go Stanford, I'm hard." He said, and he was, not fully, but enough to be noticeable.

"Let me worry about that." He said, and Stanley squinted at him. Ford raised his hands placatingly. "I have a minor charm that can make it harder for anyone to focus on you - unless you have sigils against perception-altering magic carved into the plate in your head, of course."

Stanley looked skeptical. "You sure about that? What about a cup or something?"

"I could always restrict you - I could make a serviceable cage in about twenty minutes." He teased, and Stan shook his head immediately.

"Yeah, no, fine, make me invisible, fuck you." He pulled up his pants, stood up and immediately froze. "You're a fucking bastard."

"You made the bet, Stanley. Now come with me, the charm is in the galley." He said, staring at Stanley and waiting.

Stan took one step and his face flushed a lovely dark shade. He took another and suddenly his inhales and exhales were both suspiciously precisely four seconds each. His knees were shaking. Ford was, in a word, fascinated. He watched every twitch in his brother's slow trudge as he got used to the feeling. He got used to it much too quickly, in Ford's opinion, but of course Stanley loved to be contrary. Ford didn't risk the remote yet, didn't want Stanley to expect anything yet.

They walked the rest of the way to Ford's artifact storage cupboard which Stanley had very gracefully called "the doom cupboard" and began rifling around for the charm, through other trinkets and tangled in other threads and yarns and chains. The chain was gold and at an awkward width, seeing as it was from the wrist of a giant, but it gave Ford a slightly sinister idea.

He turned around, presenting the chain, letting the little circular jade charm with the spell inscribed dangle right where Stan was supposed to be. Except in Ford's rifling Stanley had backed up. Right against the corner of their dining table. Where he was sweating suspiciously, eyes closed and rocking just a little more than the waves.

Ford tisked, storming over and latching the chain around Stanley's neck before using it to drag him off the poor table.

"Sixer what the hell--"

"No, Stanley, we've taken up enough time, if we wait longer we might not be able to fully restock before the market closes." He said. "And so you know, this pendant does not make you invisible, only fade into the background, but it can't hide you if you'll be humping furniture like a dog, so do try to act like an adult."

Stanley went red up to his forehead but he didn't say anything, attention on Ford's crooked finger and it was torture to let him go, take a step back. Later, Ford would deal with that, and him, later.

For now, he grabbed the shopping caddie (or granny caddy as his brother put it), opened the door out to the deck, and stared pointedly at Stanley.

Stanley walked measuredly for minimal jostling, out onto the deck. The flush couldn't come down, and Ford could see the slight bulge in his pants, but Stanley soldiered on with a mean look in Ford's general direction.

Ford followed him, finding the remote in his pocket as they walked and waited until Stanley had safely gotten off the boat and into the dock before he turned the setting to one. Stanley shot him an absolutely scathing look while his knees almost knocked together. Ford climbed off the boat, taking his time while Stanley mutely glared at him.

Ford offered Stanley his arm, and Stanley took it.

The walk from the pier to the local farmer's market was a short one, Ford tracked every twitch of the fingers digging into his bicep, every stutter in Stanley's step, every slightly loud huff of air, they were a mile into the city in the blink of an eye, though Ford was sure Stanley felt every second. He was hunched forward slightly, leaning heavily on Ford to keep his pace, an onlooker would see nothing but a feeble old man and think nothing strange at all.

When they finally got to the market, Stanley tensed further, white and red battling for dominance and making his face look blotchy. "If I get put on a list somewhere I blame you." He muttered.

Ford's eyes quickly found a snack stand with a bench next to it, and walked them over. "You're thirsty, aren't you?" He asked rhetorically, and Stan's head shake went ignored. He moved his brother to the empty bench and didn't give him a chance to easy himself down, shoving him into the bench and making him gasp and seize up all over, giving Ford the most beautiful desperate look for a moment before he remembered he was supposed to be mad at him.

Ford smiled to himself, tugged Stanley forward by the collar to give him a peck just because he could - the similar appearance would be hidden, after all - and told his brother to wait there.

Stanley opened his mouth to say something, a string of spit snapping between his lips, but all that came out was a loud huff. Ford was so happy he'd fixed Stan's cataracts, his clear eyes glazed over were just so captivating. But this was a test of wills for Ford, and he walked away to keep from doing anything indecent.

He went to the little snack cart and ordered a tall can of peach tea that was slightly healthier than the cola he was weening Stan off of but probably tasted the same. He also pretended to peruse the chip rack while a hand reached into his pocket.

He switched the plug to the third level and Stanley barked a sharp "FUCK--", doubling over his own stomach and squirming in his seat.

The vendor of the stand glanced over as if he just noticed the man on the bench. "Esse velho está bem?" The poor kid asked, voice cracking, Ford could see his life flashing before his eyes at the thought of having to deal with an old man's medical event.

"He's fine, he just has indigestion." Ford said with a wave of his hand, and his translator did the rest. The kid's shoulders dropped.

He let Ford pay and by the time Ford was leaving with his purchase, the kid had forgotten his brother existed.

Bumped the cold can against his brother's flushed forehead, but Stanley didn't look up, still halfway to a fetal position and grinding slow circles into the bench. Ford wanted nothing more than to put him in his lap instead, but they still had an hour. He hesitantly put his hand back into his pocket and turned the vibration back down to one. Stan made a noise like this absolutely wounded him, but after a second to breath, he looked up. His hair was sweaty, mouth hanging open to pant like a dog.

Ford again offered him the can. "Drink." He said simply, and his brother sighed, grabbing his tea and taking an extra second to crack it open with his shaking fingers before chugging it, letting Ford watch his throat work around the liquid, the charm on his new collar bobbing in time with his adam's apple, one of his narrow hands white knuckling one of the bench slats under him like he would fly away otherwise.

Stanley finished the can at once, taking a heavy breath afterwards, and Ford smiled down at him. He glared up at him in return. "Now, back to what we're here for. We can get nonperishables tomorrow when you can walk a little farther, for now let's just stock the freezer." He said, already mentally mapping out where he wanted to go while he offered his brother a hand up.

Stanley took it, holding his breath while he stood, trying to be as quiet as possible. Ford wanted to tell him he should be fine as long as he wasn't yelling, but he looked too cute, eyes darting around, like any moment everyone would turn to point a finger at him and yell "pervert".

But he did feel a little bad for startling his love so badly, so he let Stanley walk as slow as he wanted, no matter how irritating it was. Let him adjust, calm down, until his eyes were clear enough to glare at him again while Ford went from stall to stall filling up the caddy.

Then Stanley pulled away, safe on his own two feet. "Can you not do anything with the remote for a second?" He asked, voice rough, glancing through the crowd at a little candy stand.

"I can." Ford said. "I'll be over there with the butcher." He said, and let Stanley walk off.

He actually did want to look at the butcher, buying enough beef and chicken to fill half his granny caddy (grocery caddy - Stanley was getting to him), making sure Stanley was finished speaking with the vendor and coming back with a little smile on his face before he reached into his pocket and turned the vibrations up to a 3 again, making Stanley trip and nearly fall over, bracing himself against another bench.

It was awful, Stanley holding himself upright on the short structure had him bent over just a little, panting, face scrunched up, in a perfect position to get fucked properly, right in the middle of the market. It was torture.

Ford strolled over and noticed the bag of jelly beans Stanley was crushing against the edge of the bench. Oh, Stanley had spotted his favorite brand - expensive enough to taste great, cheap enough he got beans with manufacturing errors. And also nearly impossible to find anywhere. Spitting mad and he was still so sweet.

Ford wanted to walk up behind him, press Stanley's presented backside against himself, wanted to fuck him right there, his sweet, beautiful, perfect brother. But it wasn't time, yet.

Instead he put a hand on his back, and Stanley made the sweetest keening noise. "Y-you said - you said... Stanford." He whined.

"I said I was able to not touch the remote, not that I would."

"Fuck you." He groaned.

"Stanley, we don't have time for this. Come on, we have more shopping to do." He said like his brother was just being dramatic.

Stanley didn't snap back like he was supposed to, though, he just turned his head and gave Ford the most pathetic pleading look he had ever seen on him.

Ford took a steadying breath. "I know, sweetheart, we can go home in a bit and I can replace your toy with something more substantial - but for now I need you to come with me, the sooner you do the sooner we get home, okay?" He cooed, rubbing circles in his back.

Stanley nodded, slowly pushing himself off the bench, but his eyes widened and he dropped back down. "Sixer." He said. "Please - sl-oh-slow down?" He whispered frantically.

"You're okay."

Stanley shook his head. "Gotta go, tur-turn it down."

So soon? Ford smiled. "You can hold it, can't you?"

"No." Stanley said very adamantly.

Ford sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll turn it down - let's get you to a bathroom." He said, going back down to a one and not letting Stanley stay in that obscene position any longer. He wrapped an arm around his brother, grabbed the caddy, and headed for one of the outdoor restrooms for market goers.

Stanley was surprisingly quiet when he walked into the restroom with him, locking the door with them both inside. His brother was just fumbling with his pants, pulling himself out and putting his hand on the wall so he wouldn't fall over.

Ford came up behind him while he struggled to piss through his erection, making little frustrated noises. Ford pressed right against his back, slapped one hand over his mouth and stuffed the other in his pocket, turning the plug setting to 5, and catching Stanley's wail in his palm. He could feel the vibrations against his cock through both their pants, and he slowly ground into the sensation while Stanley shook apart, draining his bladder and making the whole process look absolutely obscene.

Ford kissed his neck and turned the vibrations all the way off. "Good boy."

Stanley huffed, his dick kicking pathetically through the last dribbles of piss. Ford let him breath, holding his weight so he didn't have to.

"S-said... I said you touch it you buy it..." He said and Ford almost dropped him. "Y'owe me. Whatever time's left. Tha's what I cost."

Ford nipped his earlobe. "You little asshole, you were acting that cute on purpose, weren't you?"

"It worked." He said, still looking completely blisses out.

"Fine, fine, you win." He said, slipping a hand down the back of Stan's pants and slowly pulling the plug out just to hear Stanley whimper. "But you have to walk back without my help." He said, stuffing the wet toy in his pocket (Stanley could complain about laundry later) and backing up.

Stan nearly collapsed, and Ford watched him stumble like a fresh baby deer for a second before just dropping to the filthy bathroom floor. "Gimme a minute." He huffed.

"Whenever you're ready."

[jynxedshapeshifter]

Something I don't see discussed at all is how Team Chaotix runs. Obviously, Vector, Espio, and Charmy are all detectives, but they serve different roles within that.

Vector is the team's lead investigator, and generally has a job more akin to what we view as "detective work."

Espio is the team's spy. His job is similar to Vector's, but he focuses more on undercover investigation, while Vector focuses on investigation in general. Espio is also the team's data retrieval specialist, but in his own words, "data retrieval isn't exactly [his] specialty" (although it is worth noting that Espio doesn't suck at data retrieval in Shadow the Hedgehog and he does some data retrieval in Team Sonic Racing when Team Chaotix is investigating Dodon Pa).

Charmy is, from what I can tell, basically the team's "ideas guy" but also serves a similar purpose to the team that Vector does. Due to how scatterbrained he is, he's not quite as good a detective as Espio or Vector, but I think everyone can agree Team Chaotix is not complete without Charmy, even if at the end of the day he's a mascot that sometimes contributes to a case.

Espio isn't as good at being a detective when he's not undercover, because he can't do much direct investigation when he's not undercover. Espio just isn't great at investigating things unless he can utilize his abilities in an investigation, because his abilities make him an incredibly effective spy and that's where he thrives when it comes to being a detective. Being a spy usually allows him to get information that Charmy and Vector wouldn't be able to, and that's what he specializes in. It means he doesn't have to do as much logical thinking as Vector does, which is very likely why he didn't realize Eggman was their client in Sonic Heroes; he wasn't getting information in the same way he would have if he'd been on a separate mission as a spy, and the information he was getting required doing a lot of thought on what he was hearing, which is what Vector specializes in.

It's not that Espio is a bad detective, it's that when he's sent on solo missions he doesn't have to do the same level of thinking about evidence that Vector does, so when he's presented with information that he needs to think about and doesn't look at it the same way Vector does, they don't get the same information Vector does from the same evidence (same applies to Charmy but Charmy's 6 so it makes sense for him to not be all that good of a detective yet. Charmy also tends to forget what he was told to do if Sonic Colors DS is anything to go by).

Charmy and Espio didn't realize that Eggman was their client in Sonic Heroes because they aren't used to doing the kind of logical/critical thinking about evidence that Vector is. Vector implies he knew who their client was incredibly early in the game, because he's used to thinking about the kind of evidence he got from the walkie talkie the Chaotix were using to keep in touch with their client. In fact, Espio's implied to mostly do things based on his gut feeling, based on him saying he has a bad feeling about their case in Sonic Heroes and him trusting Silver with almost no hesitation, likely for the same reason he had for not trusting their client in Sonic Heroes.

In Sonic Heroes he knew the Chaotix's client was untrustworthy based on what we can safely assume was a gut feeling, and in Sonic Rivals 2 he immediately trusts Silver likely for much the same reason (as he himself says "For some reason I trust you" which indicates he doesn't know exactly why he's decided to trust Silver).

TL;DR: Espio isn't a bad detective, he just has his own way of investigating things that don't work when Team Chaotix is investigating something as a group on the same case like they did in Sonic Heroes. Charmy is 6, so it makes sense for him to not have great investigative skills yet.

[moonydustx]

Crocodile x F!Reader

warnings: a little smut at the end.

The first time you caught him looking at you it was just curious irises on top of the scar that adorned his face. Despite how little time you had been working at the casino, it wasn't uncommon to notice Crocodile's curious gaze roaming over all the employees, except this day was different.

"Good evening sir." you simply responded as he approached the bar counter. "What do you want to drink?"

"If I remember, this isn't your place." he said. Even with a long counter separating you, the shine of his hook almost stole all your attention.

"Yeah, today I traded with Sirah."

In your response, it was possible to perceive the fearful tone. He was your boss and as much as you hated being there at that moment, you still needed a job.

"Are your red eyes related to this?" he asked, the hook resting on the counter as he seemed to analyze your every expression. "Are we having any problems with guests?"

"No, it was just bullshit." You tried to put on your best smile and put the topic out of Crocodile's mind, from the way he was looking at you that wouldn't be enough. "I caught my ex cheating on me with someone else this week, they both work here and today they seemed more concerned about throwing shade at me than anything else."

Only an indecipherable growl left the lips of the infamous man in front of you. He turned his back to you and began to observe the rest of the casino.

"I'm sorry I bothered you with that." Your voice was lower than expected, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Bring me something to drink, please. Something strong." he ordered and within minutes the glass was next to him on the counter.

In the first sip he could smell whiskey along with some citrus notes and something else that he couldn't immediately decipher. Strong but tasty.

"Make yourself a drink too. I recommend the same as mine." he said and left, leaving you alone with your own thoughts.

The second time you saw him look differently was shortly after you had spoken at the casino bar. It was the second time you had consciously realized this. Other people had already told you that the most feared look in the casino seemed to follow you for a while.

That night Crocodile had some of his business partners around a betting table along with some members of Baroque Works. You didn't expect that and you also didn't expect Miss All Sunday to come find you and tell you that according to Mr. 0's orders he wanted you to command his VIP gaming table.

"Let's see..." you waited for everyone to turn over their cards, analyzing the deck. "Looks like Mr.0 won, again." Crocodile's laugh echoed through the room as you dragged the chips towards him.

"This is unfair." one of the men complained, amidst a disbelieving laugh.

"I bet that little girl over there is helping him." one of the others grumbled, frustrated at losing all his money. Before he could continue, Crocodile interrupted him.

"Be careful with the next words you say." your body shivered completely when you felt his hand touch your waist. "Don't blame the lady for my streak of luck. It's not her fault she's my good luck charm tonight."

His eyes searched yours, a mischievous smile on his lips brought a slight laugh from yours even though you felt your body burn - and weren't so sure why.

The third time you could barely meet his eyes. Every time I opened your eyes the image was too intense to be able to stand firm.

His eyes remained fixed on your body in front of the mirror. His hook holding your legs open as you squirm on top of his lap. His hand fingered your intimacy, tracing circles on your clit while he admired the scene against the mirror. In addition to your moans in the background, you could hear your ex knocking on your door and calling you without the slightest idea of ​​what was happening.

"I bet that bastard didn't make you feel like that, did he?" Crocodile slid his fingers to your entrance, just teasing you. "I'm proud that you're mine now, my good girl." he slowly licked your neck making you squirm even more

"Please Sir." You asked, turning your face and finding his lips. Crocodile was intense in everything he did and taking your lips to him was no different.

Before you could recover from the lost air he slowly penetrated you with a finger, the cold touch of his rings against your sensitive intimacy made you scream.

"Keep it up my dear." he increased the speed soon giving space to one more digit. "Be loud let him know who you belong to now."

. . .

a/n: just an idea that popped into my head this weekend and I wanted to write it quickly. Perhaps, among the many lost wip, I will write the complete story.

[thetrashthatsmilesback]

So building off the "Sora is now fictional" idea, Roxas is more of a person than Sora is.

Lower your pitchforks and hear me out. This isn't a "Roxas is just Sora but actually interesting" post. I find those fucking annoying as well, and I prefer Roxas to Sora (though you wouldn't be able to tell based on my posts - sue me, the concept of hearts living inside each other and how that would effect the og person is too fascinating to ignore... which actually leads me into the main point of this post)

Roxas fought tooth and nail to be seen as an individual. He carved his identity out of rock while everyone around him acted like a demolition team trying to destroy it at every moment.

Sora willingly gives up his identity. While Roxas is firm in who he is, even in the moments where he doubts his humanity, Sora is a chameleon. From the obvious things such as hiding his darkness to the more subtle way his actual design changes across even individual games. Im going to actually split this up into two parts - Sora loaing his identity to those he interacts with and Sora losing his identity to those within his own heart.

- Sora when it comes to those outside of Sora's heart, Sora is whatever the person at that moment needs. He's the light for Riku, he's a confidante for various Disney characters, he's the unchanging (stable, steady) knight in armor for Kairi, he's the joyful companion to Goofy and Donald, but simultaneously the avenging angel of the side of light towards the nobodies. Sora is what he needs to be at any given moment because his driving force is his loyalty to his friends. Sora doesn't have an identity he clings to outside of his loyalty. It's his strongest unchanging trait. "Sora is light!" Except for when he admits to Riku he struggles with darkness and agrees to be the darkness. Except for when overuse of his drive forms (overuse of reliance on his friends) turns him into a pseudoheartless. Except for when rage over takes him and he transforms infront of everybody into a dark form to attack Xehanort after Kairi dies. Sora is a light for those who need him to be, but Sora himself is not pure light. Which actually brings me to my next section.

People have talked at length about Sora being less intelligent in later games than he was in kh1 and kh2, with the worst being in 3D, but I think to an extent this is also Sora molding himself (on top of flanderization by the writers). Sora is goofy and silly to those who need it. Think about who he acts "dumb" around. Its the newly reformed scientists, or those who need a confidence boost (he allows people to overexplain to him). We see in re:mind that kh3 Sora never once lost his intelligence from the previous games, but he allows others to call him forgetful/silly/behind (which he literally is, his memories are objectively fucked why are they mocking him for memories they never worked to help him restore agh *rips hair out). Sora knows they need someone to lighten things, or to explain to in order to think things through, and so there he is. "I don't computer, so you do that," he says while piloting a ship. He's talking to the newly reformed scientists, he knows that this is their chance to solidify themselves on the side of light, and so he sends them off to do their work without his help.

- for those inside his heart, there's a ton to talk about but I'm going to begin with the bridge I used from the first part. Every light has a balancing darkness. The closer you are to the light, the greater your darkness grows. Darkness is a shadow (which is why Sora losing his shadow when in anti form is not only a cool as fuck animation detail but important in terms of lore) so what does that mean for Sora who housed Ventus's heart of pure light within his own? People have commented that sora's darkness has grown since the first game, and others have pointed out that the hollow in the space of the heart in the Darkseid is obviously related to Sora's capacity to hide others within his own heart, and the fact that Sora's name doesn't only translate to "sky" but can be translated as "void"... thats all relevant but im at work so I'm not going to get too much into that at this moment. instead I'm going to point out that if his heart was holding a heart of pure light (two at one point with kairi), and all hearts except for those which either belong to princesses of light OR which are artificially split from their darkness must have darkness inside of their hearts. Riku shows that this darkness is about balance for light (I'm not getting into the "Riku actually has more light in his heart than Sora" meta arguments, though I do agree that the text is open to that interpretation and I enjoy the theory). If Sora had a heart of pure light within him, then he would have to artificially darken his own heart to keep balance.

It's also further than taking on the pain of Roxas and Xion. We see the way he gives himself up for those in his heart with his actual actions and looks. Sora (and Roxas, God i wish they'd explore more what it means to be the nobody of two hearts rather than one or if roxas is actually Ven's nobody instead of Sora's but Roxas's arc is over sadly) walks with his arms behind his head the way Ventus does. Many people have pointed out that Sora's hair is decidedly a lighter color after the KH2 prologue than at any other point in series (including in official art and posters), leading many to theorize that he actually changed appearance in response to Roxas's blond hair.

Even at the times when Roxas gives into the idea that he himself is not an individual, or implies that he and sora truly are one ("I know he'll do it, because he's me,") there's still the fight within him that he *is* a person with a distinct personality and way of being.

Sora doesnt have a distinct way of existing. Sora is what others require at that moment. This almost ties into the whole "Sora went to the realm of fiction" thing. "Sora the Concept" has become an ideal of whatever those around him invision him being at that moment while "Sora the Person" has slowly dissipated behind layers of acting.

So yeah, Roxas is more of a person than Sora is. Sora has become a concept, the idealized version of himself that others came up with, and which he molded himself to fit, losing his personhood in the process.

Sorry if this is incomprehensible. I'm at work and didn't take my meds 🤙

[bumblehoneybee]

Wait can you actually go on about how u think the toys are biologically and such? I noticed how the toys didn’t get tired like the persona but still needed sleep and how dogday didn’t seem to be in too much pain when he was getting sewed together(maybe cuz that’s the fabric part of him and not vitals? idk but please share ur take if u want it sounds really interesting!)

Ok so this may or may not be a long one depending on how heated i get! we'll see as i go

WARNING: talk of gross anatomy and biological functions, body horror, the works

so, starting with dogday and the likes, the bigger bodies. we can see through both catnap and dogday that they retain parts of their original organic body, if somewhat twisted. catnap obviously has a spinal column, and dogday has organs and even blood within him that he loses due to being cut in half. so this implied that the bigger bodies initiative didn't just move a consciousness into the suit, but everything inside that person too

catnap is too big to say that there's simply a body inside the cat body. instead, i see it being something along the lines of the automail in FMA. somehow the scientists have not only transferred over the subject's brain into the toy body, but has also either transferred the nerves or created a delicate wire system that replicates the nervous system. and due to wanting the wires/nerves to be protected as well as the bigger bodies to look relatively normal, they add metal bones.

but the organs, you ask me! the organs are the fun part. why keep a stomach in a mostly artificial body? why keep a circulatory system? why keep lungs, blood, vessels, all that?

a brain can not run on electricity alone! it needs nutrients provided to it by the blood. nutrients gained from eating. and not to mention that the brain is a very delicate thing! it needs to be protected! an immune system is needed

THUSLY, seeing bones in the bigger bodies wouldn't be strange either! blood carries nutrients, bones help with immune system and such, they practically created frankenstein in that thing!

it also goes to show how much worse catnap would've had it if he was made into catnap as a kid as opposed to dogday being an adult when he was changed. kids grow, their systems are all small small small. he'd need lots of restructuring in order to be able to grow while being inside an artificial body. he's mostly stopped by the time the game takes place, if i remember correctly he's about 22 in the events of the game, and luckily so! imagine outgrowing your own body and being unable to do anything about

which is just a lot of blabber to say that catnap no doubt was sympathized by the prototype, even if he was used. y'all saw that radius and ulna. the prototype no doubt knows what that pain is like

so, and i never write it this way, but putting legs or a limb back on dogday, or any one of the bigger bodies is possible due to all the artificial parts of them, but not by the player most likely. artificial nerves, artificial vessels, it can all be fixed! rewiring and putting in new tubes isn't hard to do, when you're a professional scientific team like the ones we see when that guy is turned into that little dinosaur (which it's own thing i won't get into right now)

i can see the vessels too having some sort of shut off valve too, where if they're broken, to preserve blood, they can close themselves off. this would explain why dogday was still alive, and if most of his body is artificial, it can show why he hasn't had to eat as much. he doesn't have as much to support through biological means!

so dogday has eyes that can see without visible eyes. he has a tongue he can move, and a mouth he can open and closed. however, the minute details aren't there, either cause of disrepair, or because the scientists couldn't manage the details in the first place. he can close his mouth, but moving his lips is hard. luckily he has a voice box that modulates his vocal cords, meaning he doesn't need to make the words with his mouth to say them

i dunno if any of this makes sense. when i write, like seriously write the bigger bodies, these are the rules i follow! tho if anyone has other ideas, i'd love to hear them! this stuff is fascinating