#honestly all you have to do is stay still and not interfere

[mydearestbeloved]

Imagine #1

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW: Implied Yandere (If you squint), mild grotesque imaginary of killing a magic beast

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

This is now officially a series! You can check "Trial Player AU" here: [Masterlist🦋✨️]

You never imagined your life would take such a drastic turn. One moment, you were typing away on your laptop, and the next, you found yourself in a universe where Hunters, dungeons, and magic were the norm.

As a casual fan of the manhwa, you were more than familiar with the storyline and its characters. But this was real, painfully real, and your heart raced in your chest as you tried to make sense of it all.

Isekai'd into the world of Solo Leveling was unexpected, but this?

This was even more bizarre.

___

Isekai stories were meant to be fun. A fresh start in a different world with cool powers and thrilling adventures, right?

[Congratulations!

You have been selected by the System for an exclusive test run.]

The first time you saw that message, you had no idea what it meant. But after receiving a few more cryptic messages and nearly dying in a lower-rank dungeon?

You would be foolish if continue that thought.

You weren’t just dropped into this world—you were the 'Trial Player'. A glitch, a test subject for the system before it latched onto its true player.

It sounded like a game, a brief test before things returned to normal.

Except now you’re stuck.

___

You didn’t want to interfere, to change the storyline you knew too well.

The system gave you powers once you started leveling up.

Since you weren’t a fighter by nature, learning how to defend yourself have been a whole other story. Healing however, had come to you almost too naturally. You were rather fortunate (or is it unfortunate?) in that regard, as you discovered early on that your specialized ability was more… versatile, than it seemed.

Simply put, they were dual-edged.

Healing and harming were two sides of the same coin—just a matter of intent.

You could heal yourself and allies just fine, but with enemies? The same touch that mended could also cause harm.

A giant serpent once learned that the hard way.

___

The cold wind brushed against your face as you stared down at the monstrous serpent writhing in its final throes. You hadn’t meant to do it that way—honestly, it was an accident.

You had only wanted to defend yourself, yet in an act of panic, you had somehow amplified the beast's venom glands, forcing it to produce venom at an uncontrollable rate to the point of overloading its own internal organs.

The monster literally drowned in its own deadly concoction.

As the hissing faded, you watched with wide eyes as the giant serpent collapsed, dead. A familiar notification dinged in the corner of your vision.

[Congratulations!

You have successfully defeated a C-Rank Venom Serpent!]

The cheerful tone that rang in your ears was far too enthusiastic for your liking.

[System will now place Blue Venom-Fanged Kasaka in its place.]

You let out a shaky breath, still in shock.

[You have just proven yourself to be quite entertaining,

Trial Player (Name)_

Shall we continue with more interesting challenges?]

What the hell just happened?

___

From the start, you’d made the decision to stay under the radar.

At first, it was overwhelming.

The system's notifications, the power you gained with each step, and the dangerous world you were thrust into were enough to make anyone completely lost their mind.

But, despite the insanity of your new reality, you had to admit you’d adapted rather well.

From that day forward, the system acted more like a mischievous partner than a mere overseer.

In fact, the system had seemed delighted by your attempts to remain discreet, since it was more than willing to help you falsify your ranking, allowing you to masquerade as a mere C-rank. Not that you cared much about rankings, but blending in was important, especially since you knew what was coming. You didn't want to stand out when the real chaos began.

The system had its reasons, no doubt, but you didn’t question it. As long as it kept your secret and allowed you to survive without drawing too much attention, you were content.

With your knowledge of the Solo Leveling storyline—albeit you still need to fill in some gaps in your memory here and there—you avoided changing the narrative too much. However, when it came to the protagonist, you found it difficult to completely stay away.

As a fan, you already knew what hardships awaited him, and as much as you tried not to interfere, your heart ached terribly seeing him suffer through his early days as an E-rank hunter.

Even knowing he’d become the world’s strongest eventually, you still found yourself lessening his burden.

You weren’t trying to change anything significant—just minor things. Healing him faster when he was injured and unconscious after dangerous raids, anonymously covering some of his mother's medical bills, leaving useful items at his doorstep. All of it was done behind the curtain, leaving no trace.

You kept your distance; each act was a silent tribute to a hero you believed deserved better.

Or maybe, it was because you saw something in him that reminded you of your own struggle—your own loneliness in this strange world.

After all, this wasn’t your story. It was his.

___

You vowed not to meddle in the timeline.

That was to say, you had no intention of getting involved in the main storyline.

So, when the time came for him to finally accept the system’s offer and became the player, the trial period for you ended.

The screens pop-ups ceased.

The missions vanished.

The system had gone silent.

You could finally step back, let him take the reins. You could enjoy the world for yourself, live your life in this reality.

Or so you thought.

___

It was supposed to be a quiet day, just like any other.

You found yourself wandering through a familiar street in Seoul, lost in thought.

You weren’t sure what it was that tipped you off—the weight of someone’s gaze on your back, perhaps—but when you turned around, your breath hitched.

Gaze locked in with sharp, glowing blue.

And a familiar chirp in your mind, as smug as ever.

[Fancy meeting you here,

Trial Player (Name)_ ]

Damnit, you sly—!

"‘Trial Player’, huh?"

You clenched your fists and bit your lip as his voice cut through your inner turmoil.

Stormy hues, and ebony locks that looked too fluffy not to touch.

Taller, and his voice deeper than the last time you heard him.

There was no way you could mistake him for someone else.

There was no way you could forget him.

Sung Jinwoo

The system hummed in amusement behind him, oddly pleased with itself.

A screen flickered in your periphery.

[Dear Trial Player, (Name)_

Be careful not to spill your secret to Player Sung Jinwoo,

else you may find the penalty quite costly.]

Playful, yet the warning echoed in your mind.

You had no idea what the system’s penalty might be, and you weren’t eager to find out.

“I’ve been wondering about the mysterious healer who’s been helping me. I guess I have my answer now.”

Calm, that tone of his was way too calm, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt your stomach drop. How much did he know? How long had he suspected—

“Don’t look so surprised,” Jinwoo continued with a chuckle, a small, dangerous tilt playing on his lips, “The system can be… revealing at times.”

The insufferable chirps like giggles in your ear following his statement made it clear—there was no escape now.

Sung Jinwoo knew, or at least, he knew enough.

“I’ll make it easy for you,” Jinwoo said, stepping closer.

You instinctively took a step back.

"Join my party."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat instead.

“What?"

“I want you to join me,”

Jinwoo repeated with the same exact tone, as if that one sentence was enough for your mind to grasp at—whatever situation this had spiral to be.

Your brain scrambled for an answer. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. “I prefer staying out of the spotlight,” you muttered, trying to avoid his gaze.

Jinwoo leaned in slightly, his expression unreadable. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think I’m going to let that happen.”

The system pinged again.

[Player Sung Jinwoo has extended a party invitation.]

“I didn’t agree to—”

The screen popped up again.

[Trial Player cannot refuse this invitation.]

You blinked at the screen, then at him.

Jinwoo kept his eyes on you—glowing in that beautiful, beautiful blue—practically daring you to refuse.

You felt trapped.

___

And that was how you found yourself reluctantly dragged into Sung Jinwoo’s (formerly solo) party.

You were supposed to be a background character at most, but now you were standing beside the future strongest hunter, going on raids, facing dungeon bosses, and… spending far too much time with him outside of said raids.

You don’t know why, but outside of dungeons were even worse. Jinwoo seemed to find excuses to be around you, despite your best efforts to avoid him. Whether it was casual visits to the same cafés you frequented or crossing paths in the market, he always seemed to be there at every turn. It was unsettling how often his gaze lingered on you, as if he was trying to unravel the very essence that made you, you.

Persistent, relentless, and far too observant for your liking. Jinwoo followed you, making sure you never slipped away, sticking close like your own personal shadow.

You might have laughed at the irony, if you were not the center of his attention.

Sung Jinwoo refused to leave you alone.

You weren't sure how he'd managed to pull you into his orbit, but he had, and now you were stuck in the very story you were trying to avoid.

A soft laugh; a rare sound that made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, My Healer.”

___

"Oh, what have I gotten myself into..." you muttered under your breath, feeling the weight of the situation crash down on you.

The system chimed in, always and without fail, far too gleeful for your liking.

[What indeed, Trial Player?

What indeed.]

You really, really, want to kick this damned system to space.

End Note:

Finally, I can sleep now...

Every related imagines I post after this WILL NOT follow any particular/chronological order.

[makelemonade]

The Tsaritsa is the archon of love, so when she notices and feels that the love lives of her Harbingers aren’t going too well, she has to interfere.

female reader, hurt/comfort, the harbingers are all friends; Pierro and Capitano. - pt2

Pierro

Being the Tsaritsa’s righthand and her first Harbinger was a stressful job. He was hardly at her side despite being her righthand but the moment she needed something done, the first person she’ll go to is him.

The Tsaritsa also hardly shows her face in public, so if there is any event she ever plans for the Fatui, whether it be a gala, ball or anything- she’ll make Pierro go to talk, even though SHE’S the one who hosted it.

Well, sometimes she’s there, lurking. No one actually knows it’s her since she chooses to stay hidden.

She decides to hold an eventful masquerade ball one night to celebrate the success of her Harbinhers. It’s one that she of course probably won’t even be going to and Pierro must go on her behalf.

Despite being his lover of many years, aka HIS WIFE, he has never once let you come to one of these and just says you’ll be bored out of your mind.

But a MASQUERADE BALL?! HELD BY THE QUEEN?! You had to go. This was your dream.

You begged for DAYS and he was so sick of it that he was forced to say yes.

Only for him to completely leave your side the moment you get there. At first, you thought that maybe it was just because he had a job to do, but throughout the night, he did not even spare you one glance.

You were standing off to the side, downing your 5th glass of champagne you’ve been stealing from the trays.

You felt upset, honestly. This was your first ever ball with him, one that you prepared for in terms of elegance and manners. You even made your own dress! It was ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS and it matched your mask and yet he didn’t even say anything.

You watched as he spoke to the Harbingers and important figures in Snezhnaya; they all laughed, smiled and showed off their guests, lovers or whoever they brought and you were practically discarded.

He acted like he had no lover tonight, and It made you wonder if his coworkers even knew he had a wife. Did he ever talk about you? Do they ever wonder why you’re never at the events? Do they even know your name?!

You struggled to listen in to their conversation, only being able to hear if one of them spoke loudly or the room went somewhat quieter.

You heard one speak a bit loud; the mayor of Snezhnaya.

“My Jester, I’ve never once seen you attend these with a guest. Why is that?”

The next voice was quiet, but you knew your husbands voice.

“I simply don’t have anyone to bring.”

You almost dropped your 6th glass of champagne, and if you did drop it, it would’ve broken just like your heart just did.

Married for YEARS yet they don’t even know who you are.

You waited for another waiter to walk by and slammed your glass down onto the tray, deciding you couldn’t stay in this ballroom anymore.

Walking around, you found doors that led out to a balcony and was thankful there was no one on it as you rushed to it.

The doors weren’t open wide so no one would see you out on there, thankfully. You took off your mask, letting your tears flow as you quietly sobbed, ignoring the cold hitting any bare skin.

On these nights, the Tsaritsa always seemed to calm down the weather. There was no harsh snow or rain, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still cold- if anything, this was almost warm.

You leaned against the railing, your hot tears melting through any remaining snow left on it.

Shivering, you couldn’t go back inside- your mascara was probably smudged by now and you didn’t want to look at your husband.

You were thinking of ways to try to leave the ball without your husband noticing but in full honesty, he probably didn’t even notice you were gone right now.

You didn’t even hear the clacks of high heels until you felt something drape over your shoulders and you almost yelped out of surprise.

It was a coat; a long, fluffy one at that. You looked to your side to see you’d been joined by another woman.

Her skin was as pale as the snow, her hair long, flowy and honestly you could’ve sworn it was glowing. Her eyes were as sharp as ice yet as soft as snow.

Her dress was white, with laces of icy blue and sapphires adorned; the same with her mask.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone hide out on a balcony during any of these.” She almost laughed, “Too cold.”

You wondered how she wasn’t cold; she’d given you her jacket, and her arms were bare yet she seemed perfectly fine as she leaned across the railing.

She even dared to jump up on it, sitting down as if there wasn’t a huge risk she could fall off with one gust of strong wind.

That made you noticed there were no harsh winds tonight.

“What’s wrong, dear?” She asked, ever so softly as she took in the sight of your tears.

“Just my husband,” you scoffed, moving a hand up to wipe them. You didn’t know why you were exposing this to a complete stranger yet there was just something about her that seemed like it was right to do so.

She hummed, then chuckled. “Love; such a beautiful yet painful feeling. Glad I’ve had my fair share with it.”

“You’ve been in love before?” You asked, genuinely interested in this random woman’s life.

“Many, many times.” She leaned back a bit, holding onto the railing as she looked up to the sky with a sad smile, watching the northern lights dance.

“Which makes it necessary that I must help people in love.” She looked back down to you, “if you so wish to speak.”

You sighed, wrapping the coat around you closer as you shivered. “I’ve been married to my husband for years, yet it feels like nothing. He has a stressful job- he works for her majesty, so I never ever complain about his absence. Yet tonight, he completely disregarded the fact of my existence and, even his own coworkers don’t know I exist! He won’t introduce me! Am I truly his wife if he can’t even act as my husband?!” You just groaned, looking up at the lights just as she did before.

She took in your words, nodding at every angry or frustrated rant within. After a minute, she spoke.

“Have you ever thought he doesn’t introduce you because of his coworkers?”

You looked down, turning to her confused yet encouraging her to continue, intruiged.

“The Harbingers…as loyal as they may be, some are rather dangerous, reckless and if I dare say myself, absolutely weird.”

You cackled. There was no way this random lady was dissing THE TSARITSA’S HARINGERS. “Do you truly have no fear?!”

She just laughed as well, hopping off the railing to now stand beside you. “I speak the truth. Maybe take that into consideration; perhaps, even though he is the first harbinger and can definitely take on all of them if any dared to touch you-“

You broke out into laughter again.

“-maybe think it’s to protect you from them. His actions tonight are not to be forgotten, and I assure you that soon he will realize his wrong and all will be will.”

You took in her words, looking back up to the sky. Well, she wasn’t wrong; he was the first harbinger, and even though he is insanely powerful, that didn’t mean the others weren’t.

Maybe he was trying to protect you, but that didn’t defend his actions.

You turned to thank the woman, but was met with nothing. She was gone- you didn’t even hear her leave!

Then that reminded you- how the hell did she know he was the first harbinger?! You only mentioned she worked for him.

You still had her coat and you walked towards the doors to head back inside, hoping to find her but she was nowhere near.

You just sighed, choosing to sit on the bench at the side of the balcony. Wrapping the coat around you.

It was large, insanely large- the type of coat that would honestly fit the size of your husband….

You took a closer look at the coat, only to notice the Fatui emblem.

Who the hell was this woman?!

~~

“And then I told that stupid fennec green-haired bastard- OH MY ARCHONS!” Dottore stopped his story when he noticed the sudden presence of his archon and every other harbinger within the circle yelped.

“This is a first.” Capitano muttered, no one knowing if he was surprised or not under that mask.

They all tried to bow but she out her hands out. “Nono! No one knows I’m here other than you all so do not make a scene!” She whisper-yelled and they all immediately straightened themselves.

“Pierro,” She turned to him,

“Yes, your majesty?” He bowed his head,

“May we take a walk?” She asked, putting her arm out.

He nodded, wrapping his arm around hers. “Continue your story, dottore.” She called before she and the first harbinger walked around the ballroom.

“Your wife looks gorgeous tonight.” She said once they were out of earshot.

He looked at her with shock. “How did you-?”

“Pierro,” she sighed, coming to a halt. “You have been at my side for 500 years. You are my best friend but I am also your Archon; nothing gets past me, and as the God of Love it is my duty to tell you that your wife is heartbroken at your actions tonight and i’d advise for you to speak to her!”

During this; she somehow pushed him all the way to the doors and at her final words, she pushed him out onto the balcony, the warmth of the ballroom now gone.

He looked around and found your tear-stained face on the bench and he sighed, sitting beside you.

“You look adorable in that,” He laughed at HIS coat on you.

“Would you like to meet my coworkers, darling? I don’t want you to put this gorgeous dress to waste.”

Capitano

The fourth harbinger hardly ever talks. At meetings, he speaks a total of four words. There are very few Harbingers he will speak too and the only ones he actually talks to more than anyone else is Pierro, Dottore and Signora.

Just because you are his wife does not mean this excludes you.

The Tsaritsa had put both you and him down for an arranged marriage just a few months ago. Her reasoning- told through Pierro- being that Capitano seriously needs someone in his life and she’d rather it be someone who talks a lot- aka you.

You never met the Tsaritsa, but you worked for the Harbingers as a secretary so even before your arranged marriage you’ve had your fair share with all of them.

The Tsaritsa HOPED that maybe at meetings and gatherings capitano would finally talk more after marrying you and yet he remained as quiet as usual according to Pierro and she was gonna lose her shit.

Now, in the privacy of your home with him, he is more comfortable with you than the others. He’s shown you his face, but in truth the only reason being because he doesn’t want to sleep with it on and you literally sleep with him so…

He talks a bit more; he says good morning, good afternoon, good night..

Yeah…

At first you were fine with it; it was better than when you were just his secretary and he’d leave work on your desk with a note saying “have done by today. thanks :)”

It was cute you wouldn’t lie. you just wished he showed that little emotion on the note in real life.

It was nice having someone to constantly talk to and yap to; he always listened in with such focus, and would nod to show he was listening and interested.

But after doing that for months it just gets so tiring to the point it’s just depressing.

You may be married to him now but that didn’t mean your job was gone, so you were still at work with him. Sometimes it would be in his office or in someone else’s if they need help.

One day, at work on your break, you found all the Harbingers into the lounge.

“Y/N!” Childe laughed. “Our favourite- come sit with us!”

You shook your head. “I couldn’t impose, my lord. I was just taking my break.”

“Nonsense,” Signora waved her hand, shaking her head. “Take your break with us.”

Choosing to sit with all of them, you noticed Capitano wasn’t there- as per usual.

As you sat with them and they talked about their lives and missions, they’d ask you a few questions about Capitano. At first, it was simple questions about your marriage thay were deemed common sense which you’d answer yes to, but then it went into questions about him, which is when it got humiliating.

They’d ask about where he was from, what did he like to do in his pastime, why does he hardly talk, what’s his favourite food, drink, how does he like his tea, what are his next missions-

All you could not answer, and instead of you, his own wife answering, Pierro did.

You excused yourself when you realized that was absolutely humiliating. How could you, his wife of several months- close to a year now!- not know anything about him yet his BOSS, knew everything?!

When you left, Pierro noticed everything at that moment, and decided he NEEDED to bring this up with the Archon of Love, but let’s be real.

She already knew, and was trying to figure out ways to fix this; “We need Pantalone and Childe for this. They’re handsome, touchy, flirty and perfect.”

The next day, you’re confused when Pantalone and Childe are suddenly bothering you with everything; Yes, usually they’re asking you to help with paperwork but today was different…

It started in the morning when Childe came up to you asking you to spar with him. He’s only ever asked once, and he literally almost killed you that time. You were strong, but you had no vision and he was a literal harbinger.

He promised he’d go easy, and the sparring session lasted for about 30 minutes. By the end of it, you were completely sweaty and your hair was a mess- he apologized and offered to take you out for lunch

You accepted but decided to at least go put your stuff in your husbands office before you left.

Capitano is a little confused when you walk in absolutely drenched of sweat but just decides you’ll probably talk about it tonight when you’re both laying in bed and continues to work on a few papers.

“Apologies,” You let out a breathy laugh, putting down any bags you brought to work that morning. “I just finished sparring with Childe, and he’s taking me out for lunch. I’ll be back later.”

He doesn’t say anything and you just sigh, already knowing not to expect anything.

From the top of the castle, Pierro and The Tsaritsa watch as you and Childe run away from the castle, clutching onto your coats for dear life from the harsh, cold wind.

“So, what’s the plan here?” He asked, “Pardon my forwardness but I truly am confused.”

She just grinned. “Well, first I asked that Childe were to spar with her and take her out to lunch, which I truly hope makes Capitano the slightest bit jealous. Then upon her return, Pantalone will magically return from the gardens with a rose and give it to her and she’ll go back to her office and tell Capitano about her day and he’ll realize and get jealous and fuck her.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I did not need to know that last part. And if that doesn’t work?”

“A god always has another plan.”

You and Childe are at lunch for about 2 hours; really it would’ve been shorter but you and Childe were BOTH insane talkers so naturally you were there for a long time.

Returning to the castle, Pantalone was seen emerging from the gardens holding a few roses and Childe, for some reason, took that as his queue to wish you his goodbyes and hurry away.

“Good afternoon, Lord Pantalone.” You bowed and he just chuckled.

“No need for pleasantries, Y/N. Here,” He handed you a rose and your eyes were full of surprise as you took it.

You became rather flustered, beginning to stutter. “O-oh, thank you! It’s beautiful.”

“Just for a beautiful girl like you.” He winked and you giggled.

“I’ll be off to give these to Signora. Have a lovely day, Y/N.” He smiled before making his way down the hall, and in seconds he was gone.

You stared down at the rose, feeling giddy. You’d never even received flowers- not even when you got married! Your wedding day wasn’t really even a wedding, instead Pierro officially declaring for you two to be wed and well, that was it.

You practically skipped back to your office, ready to tell your husband all about your day.

~~

“So this morning I got here and the MOMENT I did Childe magically found me and asked me if I wanted to spar! and I was like hesitant because the last time we sparred he like literally almost killed me but he promised he’d go easy on me and he sortaaaa didn’t so he decided he’d take me out to lunch and we were there for like 2 hours just talking and he was so king enough to pay for both! then we got back and Pantalone gave me a rose and he did so with such a sweet compliment! Isn’t that sweet?”

Your husband was not phased by your sudden burst and continued to work, just nodding at everything every few seconds.

“That’s nice.” He murmured, continuing to work- seriously what the hell was he working on for so long?!

You frowned, expecting a little bit more, but at this point it was stupid to expect something from him that now you were a little angry but mostly sad.

You glanced at the rose you had put down in a vase within the room and sighed. “Do you really not care? Are you seriously not jealous?”

His movements paused.

“Like, a man literally just took me out to lunch for 2 hours and practically spent the first half of the day with me, and then another man gives me a rose and tells me I’m as beautiful as it is and you don’t say anything?! I know this is just an arranged marriage but- but I would’ve thought that…maybe you loved me as much as I love you.”

You waited for him to say something, expecting just anything, but that’s the thing with expecting-

You’re met with nothing.

Sighing, you bowed down to him. “My…apologies for overlooking this marriage…my lord. I’ll return to work.” You grimaced acknowledging him so formally, but maybe that was for the best.

You turned around, rushing out of the room before he could say anything, but mostly so he wouldn’t see your tears threatening to pour out.

When the door closed behind you, you let the tears fall as you ran through the dark halls of the castle, trying to find anywhere to hide in.

You made your way to the lounge, happy it was empty as you took a seat on the comfy couch, dragging a hand down your face while also wiping your tears.

Archons, how would you even return home to him tonight? It would be absolutely awkward to have to lay in bed beside him after that outburst.

For the first time, you dreaded having to return home. You loved the warmth he brought whenever you two lay beside each other, and it was even better when he held you.

That made you cry more- how could someone as distant as him, be so soft towards you and hold you when he doesn’t even love you?!

“You know when I heard you and Capitano were getting married I was like- no way.”

You jumped at the sudden voice and somehow, you hadn’t even noticed Signora was sitting beside you and you yelped as you quickly stood up, bowing down.

“M-my lady! I’m so sorry I was just lea-“

“You’re not going anywhere.” She shook her head, patting her hand down on the seat you were just on.

You sighed, realizing you genuinely couldn’t disobey her and sat beside her. You took in her words, “you weren’t the only one; everyone else was shocked.”

“Do you ever think the Tsaritsa was wrong in her choice?” she asked.

You frowned. “In full honesty, I trust her majesty, but maybe this was something she didn’t look into with all her might. It just…doesn’t seem to be working out.”

Signora leaned back into the couch, deciding to get comfy and you took that as a sign to do the same. “Have I ever told you about my lover?”

You shook your head.

“God, 500 years ago. A bit more, actually. He was handsome, amazing, annoying- he honestly reminded me a bit of Capitano. Sure he talked a bit more but I was the talker in our relationship. However, then the cataclysm happened and…look at me now.”

You frowned, looking at her sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled sadly, “No matter how much they don’t talk or how much they don’t seem to focus on you or anything, take into consideration that they’re willing to be there. It’s difficult, to find love especially in so many circumstances, but love is everywhere. I see it with you two, and I know. I know you two can make it.”

You glanced down at her lap to find a rose.

You looked back up at her. “What should I do?”

“Force him to talk.” She laughed. “A man as big as him also has a big heart. Seriously, cry In front of him and he’ll become puddy and do everything for you. He made a child cry once and he almost cried.”

You both broke out into fits of giggles, you trying to imagine that and her remembering it.

“Thank you.” You smiled at her, “Permission to-“

“Just go,” She waved her hand, rolling her eyes. “You don’t need my permission.”

With one final smile, you quickly got up, rushing to make your way back to his office and force him to talk.

Emerging from behind a wall was the Tsaritsa, who stood behind her friend. “How was it?”

“They’re so fucking.” Signora grinned.

~~

You opened the door to his office, but was met with him standing right in front of it, hand hovering in the air.

You practiced what you were going to say to him, but now having him standing right in front of you- literally towering over you- you had no idea what to say.

However, he out his hands up to his helmet, forcing it off and just throwing it to the side and you were met with his glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” He sniffed, moving his fingers up to rub at his eyes. “I love your rambles- archons I live for them. Every morning when I wake up, I can’t wait to to hear you talk about what your so excited for throughout the day and at night, I can’t wait to hear how your day was. I love you, my dear. I know I don’t…express it much, but I do. So much.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes once again. “Cap…”

“I’ll prove it to you.” He breathed out, a hand making its way to cup your cheek to wipe away a falling rear before he leaned down, connecting his lips with yours so passionately, but most importantly, it was full of love.

He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue in and you let out a whimper as your knees buckled, and he was quick to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you up right before he decided to just pick you up and you yelped, breaking the kiss as he carried you over to his desk, pushing everything off and ignoring the sound of the vase with the rose breaking- instead he smiled at it.

Down the hall, Pantalone, Childe, Pierro, Signora and the Tsaritsa were all grinning.

“They are one hundred percent fucking.” Childe laughed as they all high-fived each other- expect Pierro, who just walked away with a sigh.

[dior-luxury]

hiii!!! could you do scenarios w/ bllk 11 where the s/o receives a lot confessions prompt please :)

"���𝟎+ 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬?"

( ✧ ) ────── 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 . 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 - 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 .

- [𝐜𝐡.] yukimiya kenyu . karasu tabito . aryu jyubei . rin itoshi . otoya eita . nagi - [𝐩:𝐬] none!

#𝐘𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐮

→  tries not to care too much. Still, something nags at him every time you get a possession. He half wishes he could just tell everyone that you’re dating him, you’re not available, and anyone who has a problem with that can talk to him. Until then, he’ll just scowl at people he knows to have a crush on you and hold your hand a little tighter.

#𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐮 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐨

→ is fine with it. He thinks it’s an indication of how great you are, and to be honest, they’re like free compliments for you. But if you give any of the confessions any consideration at all – even fake consideration – he gets serious. He’ll try to subtly show off your relationship in front of others while claiming that no, he’s not jealous.

#𝐀𝐫𝐲𝐮 𝐉𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐢

→  doesn’t like it at all. He doesn’t like the idea that someone thinks they have a chance with someone as amazing as you when he’s already the one dating you. He’s not afraid to throw away any love letters you receive or step in and interfere in an ongoing confession to you, just to make that clear. He doesn’t think anyone can like you as much as he does, anyway.

#𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

→  honestly, he doesn’t care that much. he knows how many people liked you even before you two started dating, and he has no control over other people’s feelings anyway. He might need a little reassurance that you’ll stay with him, but other than that, it’s like a fun thing that you two laugh about occasionally.

#𝐎𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐄𝐢𝐭𝐚

→  seems like he’s fine with it on the outside. On the inside, he’s split between feeling distress and anger. He knows how well-liked you are, but why anyone would think it’s okay to confess to you when he’s in the picture is a mystery to him. he doesn’t like anyone who likes you romantically, and the frequency of the confessions only makes him like you more.

#𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨

→ doesn’t understand why other people even try: you’re dating him, and you two are very secure in your relationship. while he knows many of your classmates harbor crushes on you, nagi is convinced no one can treat you better or like you more than he can. If he ran into a confession going on, he’d shut it down by glaring at the person and slipping his hand into yours. He’s not someone to easily get jealous, and he trusts you, no matter how many others confess to you.

(pt.2 coming out soon ^-^)

[tortillamastersblog]

➶The Bet - Part 2 | Kate Bishop➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: angst

Summary: Being known as the quiet and reserved student, you mind your own business and stay out of people’s way.

Kate Bishop is the exact opposite. Outgoing, bubbly, and loud, she’s the definition of a popular girl, so it comes as a surprise when she asks you out on a random Thursday afternoon.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

After taking my headphones out, I unlock the front door of my apartment and step inside.

“Hey, are you making dinner?” I call out, taking off my running shoes. “It smells gre—EY!” I pull the damp dish towel that was just chucked at me off my face and glare at my roommate Riley. “What the hell?”

She’s standing in the hallway with her arms crossed. “You’ve been avoiding me for two days now, so, spill! What’s going on with you?”

I sigh and peel off my sweaty shirt, tossing it into the laundry room close by. “I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve just been busy studying.”

Riley raises an eyebrow and uncrosses her arms. “We’re both majoring in Chemistry, Y/N, and there aren’t any exams coming up, so talk.”

I chuckle softly and brush past her to see what she’s been up to in the kitchen. “I hate how well you know me.”

Simmering in a pot on the stove is a delicious smelling chili and I can’t help but grab a spoon to try some. Before I can lower the spoon into the pot though, Riley snatches it out of my hand.

“Nope. You don’t get to eat until you tell me what you’re trying to hide,” she scolds and I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking about how I’m going to handle this.

The reason I haven’t told her about Kate yet is because she’ll lecture me about why I shouldn’t have agreed to go out with her in the first place.

Riley knows me better than anyone and she’ll point out all the reasons why Kate and I won’t work, and I just don’t want to deal with all that when I’m only starting to get to know Kate.

We’ve gotten coffee every day since our first date two days ago and we have a dinner scheduled at her place tomorrow night.

We haven’t held hands, or kissed yet, but I can see us heading in that direction and I don’t want anyone to interfere. Especially not Riley even though she’s only trying to look out for me.

“Well. . .” I place my hand on the counter and trace the pattern of the marble with my finger. “I’ve been kind of going out with Kate Bishop and I didn’t tell you because I was scared you were going to judge me for it.”

Riley doesn’t say anything, so when I look up I’m surprised to find her looking at me with furrowed eyebrows. “Why would you think I’d judge you for that? I’ve been telling you to get yourself out there for a while now.”

She sounds genuinely hurt that I didn’t tell her which makes me feel somewhat guilty. “No, I know you would never judge me for dating, but I’m not just seeing anyone. This is Kate Bishop we’re talking about and—“

“Okay, yes, it is a little unusual that you’re going out with her of all people,” she admits, handing back my spoon so I can finally taste the chili, “but who am I to tell you what to do? Does she make you happy?”

I smile instinctively, thinking about the time I’ve spent with Kate so far. “She does.” I blush a little and smile softly. “She’s funny and kind, and I honestly don’t mind how bubbly she is. It’s actually quite endearing.”

I’m usually not a fan of loud and energetic people, but I don’t mind it when it comes to her.

“Oh my God.” Riley laughs and slaps me with another dish towel. “Look at you, you’re absolutely smitten with her!”

My blush intensifies and I take the towel away from her. “I am not!”

“Sure, you’re not.“ She cackles and I just roll my eyes, turning away to finally try the chili.

“This is great.” I nod in approval and turn back around to find Riley still grinning like a kid in a candy store. “Oh, shut up!“

“What?!” She shrugs. “I didn’t even say anything.”

I narrow my eyes. “Mhmm. But you wanted to, you little shit. . . I’m going to take a shower now.”

She laughs, but doesn’t say anything else, so I turn around and leave with a small smile on my face.

Even though she can be super annoying, she’s like a sister to me and I wouldn’t change her for the world.

I fidget with the tulips in my left hand and the bottle of wine in my right, waiting anxiously for Kate to open the door.

It’s five minutes to seven and I know I’m early because we agreed I’d be here at seven, but it’s better to be a little early than a little too late.

Riley told me to get Kate some real flowers this time rather than just a paper flower after I told her about our coffee date which is why I swung by a florist on the way here.

I didn’t want to get her roses because that’s just a little too on the nose for me, so the choice was between carnations and tulips. In the end, I went with the pink and purple tulips because I noticed purple is her favorite color.

“Y/N, hey!”

My head snaps up at the sound of Kate’s breathless voice and when my eyes land on her I can’t help but smile. She’s dressed casually, wearing jeans and a purple sweater and even though she’s trying to seem calm I can tell she’s a little breathless, probably because she had to rush to the door.

“Hi, you look nice.” I compliment after clearing my throat. Then I raise the bouquet of tulips and the bottle of wine, adding, “I come bearing gifts.”

That makes her laugh as she steps aside to let me into the apartment. “I told you not to bring anything.”

I smile at her and feel butterflies in my stomach when I notice her ears turning red. “I know, but it’s not polite to show up somewhere empty handed, so. . . These are for you.” I hold out the flowers once she’s closed the door behind us.

Kate’s eyes dart back and forth between me and the flowers before hesitantly reaching for them. “You got me flowers?” she whispers and I’m not sure why, but her voice is laced with disbelief and sorrow.

I frown and let her take them from me, trying to momentarily ignore how my hand tingles when her fingers brush against it. “I— Yeah, I thought you might like them, but if you don’t I can just—“

“No, no, no.” She shakes her head and looks at me with a pained smile. “I like them. They’re beautiful, it’s just. . . “

“It’s just. . .?” I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to go on, but she just studies me with a strange look in her eyes.

It’s almost as if she’s sad about something, but then she exhales shakily and puts on a smile. “Forget about it. They are beautiful. Thank you.”

What was that?! Did I do something wrong? I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Riley! She hates the flowers! Shit.

“Uh— Okay. . . You’re welcome, I guess,” I stammer, wishing the ground would just open up beneath me and swallow me whole.

Seemingly unaware of the sudden tension, Kate puts the flowers down on the dresser next to us before taking the wine out of my hands as well so it’s easier for me to take off my jacket.

“So, tell me what’s new. What have you been up to today?“ she asks casually while I take off my jacket.

Okay, I guess we’re moving on from whatever the hell that just was. . .

“Nothing much,” I say honestly. “I went for a run and helped my roommate Riley install some new bookshelves. What about you?”

Kate takes my jacket and puts it in the closet while I toe off my wet boots. It rained earlier today and even though it stopped a while ago, the streets are still wet and I don’t want to ruin her floors by keeping my shoes on.

“I had fencing practice this morning and then I hung out with Greer and Franny,” she says, picking up the tulips and handing me the bottle of wine. “They told me to say hi by the way.”

I smile at that and try not to combust when Kate takes a hold of my hand and pulls me into the living room.

I’ve never actually spoken to Greer and Franny, but I know they’re Kate’s friends and ever since she asked me out they greet me in the hallways with knowing smiles.

“Alright.” Kate stops in the kitchen and drops my hand to put the flowers into a vase. “I’m a horrible cook, so I thought we could order some dinner and then maybe watch a movie?”

“Sounds like a plan.” I smile and watch her grab a bottle opener from a drawer, “but I thought you invited me over so we could cook something together?”

That is exactly what she said when we made tonight’s plans and even though I’m fine with just ordering in, I want to know what’s changed, or why she asked to cook together in the first place.

Kate hands me the bottle opener and smiles sheepishly. “I know. I thought cooking together would be kind of cute and you agreed, but then I remembered I can’t cook after you’d already left and I didn’t want to change our plans again and—“

“Kate,” I say, my voice laced with amusement. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I just wanted to know.”

Worried blue eyes meet my own and when I smile again, she relaxes and pushes two empty wine glasses toward me. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I reassure her and open the wine before filling each of our glasses. “So, what did you have in mind? Pizza?”

She nods and grabs a takeout menu off the fridge. “Yeah, there’s this great place around the corner that makes the best pizza’s in the city. I know the owner and every time I order something he makes sure to put an extra helping of cheese on the pizza.“

I smile at how excited she looks and tell her to just order whatever she wants.

“Are you sure? I usually just get a cheese pizza. If that’s too boring though we can—“

Here she goes again, rambling like there’s no tomorrow.

I put my hand over her fidgeting one on the counter which makes her shut up immediately. I’ve never initiated a touch before and as soon as our eyes connect I can’t remember why.

“I told you, I’m fine with whatever, so if you want cheese pizza, order cheese pizza,” I say quietly without breaking eye contact.

It makes Kate gulp before she nods slowly. “Okay.” Her blue eyes dart between my own and for a split second they even drop to my lips.

Knowing it’s too early in the night for a kiss though, I take my hand back and lift my glass of wine. “Cheers?”

It takes a moment for Kate to recover, but once she’s snapped out of her trance she grabs her own wine and we clink glasses. “Cheers.”

We both take a sip and I watch how Kate’s eyes widen slightly at the taste of the wine as soon as it hits her tongue. She glances at the bottle before looking back at me with raised eyebrows. “How much did you pay for that bottle?” she asks.

I just shrug and take another sip before answering. “Nothing. It was a gift from my dad. It’s been collecting dust on my shelf ever since he died because there was never an occasion to open it until now.“

Kate chokes slightly and sets the glass down. Her eyes fill with the same strange emotion as before when I gave her the flowers and I don’t like it, not one bit.

Nevertheless, I ask her if she’s okay, but she just waves me off.

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” She doesn’t look at me though and picks up her phone and the takeout menu. “Why don’t you pick out a movie while I order dinner? I’m fine with whatever as long as it’s not a horror movie.“

I frown and watch her, but she refuses to meet my eyes, so I agree. “O-Okay.”

“My laptop is on the bed upstairs. The password is 1234,” she says, dialing the number of the restaurant.

Trying to lighten the mood again I joke and say, “That’s not a very secure password for someone whose family owns a security company,” but Kate doesn’t react the way she normally would.

She barely even smiles and I take that as my cue to just leave her alone for the time being.

What is going on? It seems like I keep saying the wrong thing. . .

I brush it off as best as I can and just climb the stairs up to the loft where I find Kate’s laptop on her bed. Not sure where she wants to watch the movie, I take a seat on the edge of the unmade bed and open her laptop.

I put in the password and open Netflix, scrolling through some movies while she orders the pizza downstairs.

“Pizza’s gonna be here in twenty minutes,” she says, coming up the stairs after hanging up. She’s acting like nothing happened again which is a little irritating, but I don’t want it to spoil our time together, so I let it slide. Again. “Have you picked a movie yet?”

I turn the computer and show her what I chose. “Is this okay?”

Kate beams and jumps on the bed. “Yes! I love Grown Ups! C’mere.” She pats the space beside her and I join her on the bed properly, leaning back against the headboard.

I’m about to start the movie, when Kate jumps to her feet again with an apologetic smile. “Hold on.”

She darts down the stairs and comes back up a couple of seconds later with our wine glasses and the bottle of wine in hand. She puts everything on the nightstand before climbing over me to her side of the bed.

It makes me hold my breath until she’s settled in next to me. “Ready?” I ask, my voice a little gruff.

Kate doesn’t notice the effect she has on me and nods before resting her head on my shoulder. “Yup.”

I press play and try to focus on the opening credits of the movie, but her head on my shoulder is making me nervous.

It’s a good kind of nervous, one I haven’t felt in a long time, but I’m nervous nonetheless and it doesn’t help when Kate, after ten minuets, brushes her fingers over the inside of my wrist.

I glance at her and see she’s focused on the movie, so I try to do the same, but then her touch drifts lower, across the palm of my hand until she slips her fingers between my own.

It makes my breath hitch, and Kate goes to pull her hand back, but I hold onto it and run my thumb over the back of her own.

Satisfied, she sighs quietly and leans against me and continues watching the movie.

I try to focus on the movie as well but all I can concentrate on is her hand in my own, her head on my shoulder, and the sound of her soft laugh every time something funny happens on screen.

I take note of how she smells, an intoxicating mix of expensive perfume and vanilla body wash, and admire the way some strands of her black hair have escaped her ponytail and are now framing her face.

She’s absolutely breathtaking and even though I’ve known she’s beautiful ever since I met her, I’ve never actually looked at her, like, really looked at her like this.

It’s only when Kate squeezes my hand that I realize I’ve been caught staring and I quickly look away, pretending to focus on the movie.

Seemingly not wanting to let it go though, Kate moves even closer and whispers, “Are you okay?”

“Mhmm.” I don’t dare to speak because I’m sure my voice would fail me right now if I tried. I can feel my neck heating up and force myself to keep staring at the laptop screen.

“You sure?” she whispers again and when I only nod in reply, she shifts closer and turns her head so I’m forced to look at her.

The intensity of her blue eyes in the low light makes my mouth go dry and I swallow harshly to get rid of the nervousness bubbling up in my throat.

“I’m sure,” I croak, but I’m anything but okay when her gaze, for the second time tonight, drops to my lips.

This is it. . .

I swallow again and let my own eyes dart down to her lips. “Can I—“ kiss you?

I don’t get to finish my question because the sound of the doorbell ringing cuts me off.

Kate and I jump apart and I blink rapidly to gather my thoughts while Kate scrambles over me to go downstairs and open the door.

Holy shit, we almost kissed! Kate Bishop almost kissed me?!

I run my fingers through my hair and close my eyes for a moment before grabbing my phone to distract myself.

Rye (7:17 PM)

How’s it going? Did she like the flowers?

Rye (7:23 PM)

Are you like making out? Is that why you haven’t answered me yet?

Rye (7:25 PM)

You guys are totally making out right now. I’m so jealous. I should ask Chad to come over. . .

I roll my eyes and smile at her messages before typing a quick response.

You (7:27 PM)

You’re such an idiot.

No, we’re not making out, we’re just watching a movie. Get your mind out of the gutter, pervert.

DON’T text Chad, Riley! That guy is a fuckboy who left you in tears the last time you saw him.

Riley reads my messages and immediately starts typing a response and because Kate’s still talking to the delivery guy downstairs, I don’t put my phone down just yet.

Rye (7:27 PM)

You’re so lame but I know you’re right. I’m not going to text him

Not because I don’t want to but because I don’t want you to hit him again

I roll my eyes, remembering how she couldn’t stop me from punching Chad in the face when he showed up at our apartment to get Riley back after cheating on her.

I’m usually not the confrontational type, I mean, I barely even speak to anyone except Riley, but after they broke up, Riley was devastated and I just had to do something when he showed up drunk and tried to push past me to get to her.

Rye (7:28 PM)

As for you and Kate though. . . Just kiss already!

I know you want to I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her ;)

You (7:28 PM)

Oookay, that’s enough. I’m putting my phone down now.

I’ll be home around ten.

DON’T TEXT CHAD!

I see Riley typing something else, but I turn off my phone before she hits send because I hear Kate making her way back up the stairs.

The tension from before is gone, but she still smiles shyly when our eyes connect.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask when she gets back on the bed with the pizza box in hand.

I guess we’re eating in bed. . .

I couldn’t deal with any crumbs in my own bed, but if Kate doesn’t mind, I won’t object.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” she says, opening the box and offering me a slice.

I raise an eyebrow and take it, making sure to eat over the box as much as possible to prevent too many crumbs from landing on the bed. “Kate—“

She shakes her head and takes a big bite of her own slice. “Nope, you brought flowers and expensive wine and you payed for all my coffees so far. The least I can do is pay for a pizza.” I go to object again, but she just shakes her head again and presses a finger to my lips. “Hush now. Let’s continue watching the movie.”

I nod dumbly, and absentmindedly touch my tingling lips when she takes her finger away to start the movie again.

We eat in silence, actually watching the movie until the pizza is gone and we’re both full. I take the box off her lap and put it on the ground next to the bed before grabbing my glass of wine and taking a sip.

“You want some, too?” I ask and when she nods I hand her her own glass after topping it off.

She smiles in thanks and takes a big sip, her eyes lingering on me a moment longer than necessary before she goes back to watching the movie.

All of a sudden, the tension is back and I once again struggle to focus on the movie. She is just too damn distracting and when her hand brushes against mine I jump slightly and down the rest of my wine.

Kate chuckles softly at my reaction and empties her own glass before placing it on the nightstand on her side of the bed.

Then, she does something that almost makes my heart flatline. She takes the laptop off my thighs and sets it on the bed next to her before throwing her leg over my hips and straddling my lap.

My eyes widen and I stare at her slack-jawed. The movie is now completely forgotten and all I can focus on is the weight of her on me and the way she sets her hands on my shoulders.

“Kate. . .” I say, my voice low and scratchy.

“Yes?” she smirks, obviously knowing exactly what kind of effect she has on me as she moves her hands to touch the side of my neck and the underside of my jaw.

Just kiss already!

Riley’s text flashes through my mind and I hesitantly place my hands on Kate’s thighs.

My breath is coming out in uneven bursts and it takes everything in me not to just lean up and brush my lips against hers.

“Can I—“ I clear my throat, transfixed by the blue eyes darting all over my face. “Can I kiss you?”

No turning back now.

Kate’s smirk turns into a shy smile and she nods, cupping my cheeks. “I thought you’d never ask,” she mumbles and I lean up, brushing my lips against hers.

For a second neither of us moves, but then Kate tentatively moves her lips against mine and my stomach fills with butterflies. I close my eyes and kiss her back, tasting the wine she had just a moment ago on her lips.

It’s thrilling and intoxicating and I can’t help but groan when she shifts on my lap and deepens the kiss by running her tongue over my bottom lip.

My grip on her thighs tightens and when she allows me to slip my tongue into her mouth, I wrap my arms around her lower back and pull her closer.

“Fuck, you’re good,” Kate pants against my mouth and moves one of her hands to the back of my neck to pull me even closer.

I just continue kissing her, not knowing what to respond to that, and delight in the way her breath hits my lips every now and then.

Kissing her is even better than I imagined and I feel a shiver run up my spine when she moans softly against my lips when my fingers dig into her lower back.

“Shit.” She curses softly when I trail my lips down her neck, biting softly every now and then before running my tongue over the affected skin.

I’m not planning on going any further than this because I’m not ready to take that step yet, but Kate seems to think otherwise because when I move up to kiss her lips again, her hands slide down my chest and she grabs a hold of the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up.

I break the kiss with furrowed eyebrows and grab her hands. “Wait, I-I can’t do this.”

Realizing her mistake, Kate pulls her hands back with a guilty look on her face. “Right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I-I got caught up in the moment. I’m sorry.”

I sigh and grab her hands again, lacing our fingers together. I’m not mad at her, not at all. It’s actually quite flattering that she wants to do more, but I’m just not ready yet. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, but. . . Let’s just take it slow, okay?”

She nods, embarrassed, and looks away, so I let go of one of her hands and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Kate, look at me.” I dip my head to catch her eye and smile when she finally looks at me. “It’s okay. We’re okay. I’m not mad, I swear. I like you, a lot—“ her lips twitch shyly and I don’t miss the way her ears turn red—“ and I want to go there with you eventually just. . . not now, okay?”

I squeeze her hand reassuringly and run my thumb over her cheek until she nods.

“Good, now. . . Where were we?” I smile cheekily and tilt my head up until I feel her breath on my lips, giving her the chance to initiate another kiss if she wants to.

Letting go of my hand so she can wrap her arms around my neck, Kate pecks my lips before resting her forehead against mine. “I like you too and. . . I know you told me not to apologize, but I am sorry. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable and I don’t mind waiting for you.”

I swallow thickly and press a kiss to the corner of her lips before hiding my face in the crook of her neck. My ex always used sex against me, guilting me into it to make herself feel better, so this kind of understanding makes me emotional. “Thank you.”

Kate holds me closer for a couple of minutes until her phone rings.

She pulls it put of her back pocket and glances at the screen. “That’s my mom,” she says with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, but I should answer. I told her not to call unless it was important.”

I nod and let her get off my lap, watching her go downstairs to answer the call after giving me another quick kiss.

Once she’s gone, I chuckle in disbelief and close my eyes.

She likes me. She kissed me. . .

I feel myself smiling at the memory of her lips on mine and open my eyes again to grab the laptop and pause the movie we completely forgot about.

As I go to pause it though, a message pops up in the upper right corner of the screen and I can’t help but read it.

Greer @FKG (8:01 PM)

So?! What’s happening, Kate? How’s the date going?

I blush at the message, realizing her phone is connected to her computer. It’s a little embarrassing that Kate’s friends know about us spending the evening together, but it’s not like we’re a secret, so I should have expected she’d tell them.

Franny @FKG (8:01 PM)

I bet it’s going well. Have you guys kissed yet?

My cheeks heat up even more, but then another message pops up and it makes my heart sink.

Greer @FKG (8:02 PM)

I sure hope so! I have a lot of money riding on this. Remember @Kate, if you hook up Franny owes both of us fifty bucks ;)

Franny @FKG (8:02 PM)

Fifty?! I thought we said twenty!

Greer @FKG (8:02 PM)

Nu-uh! We said twenty if they kiss on the first date and fifty if they hook up within a week.

I slam the laptop shut, not wanting to read any more and try to blink back the tears pricking my eyes.

Of course all of this was too good to be true. . . I mean, what could Kate Bishop possibly want from someone like me? I should have seen this coming when she asked me out.

I feel like a fool for not realizing that all of this was just a game to her and get off the bed just as she comes back up the stairs.

My hands are shaking and I feel sick, realizing that I have to get out of here as quickly as possible.

Maybe Riley should have judged me and told me it was a bad idea because I would have listened to her, but no, she just had to be supportive. . .

I don’t blame Riley, not really, because she thought I finally found someone who actually makes me happy. Hell, I thought I found someone who makes me happy, but as it turns out we both thought wrong.

“Can you believe it? My mom called because she wanted to ask me to join her for lunch tomorrow. I swear, I told her not to call unless. . .” Kate trails off when she notices the tears in my eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She lifts a hand to touch my cheek but I step back, wiping at a tear that managed to escape my eye.“Don’t touch me.” I hiss through gritted teeth, grabbing my phone off the nightstand.

Her eyes widen in surprise and she drops her hand again, her eyebrows furrowing. “Okay. . . Uh— What happened?”

I scoff and clench my jaw.

I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.

Sniffling slightly, I go to brush past her and leave, but she grabs my wrist even though I explicitly told her not to touch me.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where are you going?” she asks, her blue eyes full of worry.

“Let go.” My voice is dangerously low and when I couple it with a glare, Kate immediately lets go.

I watch as her worry gets replaced by confusion before finally stepping past her.

“Wait, where are you going?” she asks, daring to follow me down the stairs.

I make my way to the front door without answering and bend down to slip my shoes on.

I’m never going on a date again. I’ll just lock myself in my room for the rest of my life and die alone.

I get back up and open the closet to grab my jacket, only to freeze mid reach when Kate snaps at me.

“Hey!”

I turn around slowly and ball my hands into fists, seeing the immediate regret on Kate’s face when our eyes meet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap it’s just— One moment we were fine, kissing and cuddling and drinking wine, and the next you’re storming out without even telling me why. . .” She sounds and looks desperate, her voice low and pleading.

I blink away a new wave of tears and stop glaring at her to show her how I actually feel, how hurt I am by what she did. “Why? Because you and your friends made a fucking bet, that’s why!” I shout, my voice breaking. “Twenty dollars for kissing me on the first date and fifty for fucking me within the span of a week, right?”

Kate eyes widen and she steps back as though I just slapped her. “H-How—?“

Hot tears stream down my cheeks and I don’t even bother to wipe them away anymore.

She’s not even trying to deny it.

“It doesn’t matter how I know,” I cry, interrupting her. “You used me, Kate! Do you know how that makes me feel?! I thought you were sweet and that you genuinely liked me, so I stepped out of my comfort zone and said yes when you asked me out, but it turns out you’re just like everyone else. You’re selfish and cruel, and I regret not walking out on you when you approached me in the library four days ago.”

I take a shaky breath and force myself not to feel guilty when I see the regret and devastation on her face. She’s crying as well now, but even though I hate seeing her like this, I don’t apologize and I don’t move to comfort her.

She should be the one apologizing!

“Y/N. . .” Shee steps closer and lifts her hands as if to touch me, but I take a step back and shake my head.

“No, just. . .don’t.” I take my jacket out of the closet and put it on. “I don’t ever want to speak to you again, Kate. Good night.”

I open the front door with shaking hands and step outside, ignoring the sobs that echo down the hall as I make my way to the elevator.

So much for getting myself out there again. . .

_______________________________________________

Phew, that was a long one. Hope you guys enjoyed it! It was definitely fun to write.

I still don’t know how I’m going to end this little fic, but the third and last part will hopefully be out this same time next week.

I’m super busy studying at the moment, so it’s difficult to find the time and energy to write, but I’m trying my best.

Love,

Soph <3

[mingi-s-dimples]

Study buddy or... fuck buddy? - Yeosang

KINKTOBER DAY 8- REQ. BY anon

~"yeosang x reader; please add squirt and virgin reader?"

pairing: yeosang x fem!reader

genre: 18+, college au

summary: anatomy lessons weren't this.. practical in the past.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: college au, friends with benefits, protected sex (we cheered !), cumming, squirting, first time sex, yeosang is a lil gentle boi at first, gets a lil bit rougher throughout the moment, he's a damn tease, aftercare, unedited, completely consensual, making out, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: Hm. I liked writing this one. Was a lil bit harder at first cause I didn't quite have ideas for the plot but.. the ironic situation was that I got this idea while actually studying anatomy... sigh, to be fucked senseless while in break from studying... slams desk. Anyways! My loves, hope you like it!! 🙂‍↕️💖

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the classroom, the buzz faintly drowned by the chatter of students packing up their bags. Another long day of classes had come to an end, and the weight of exhaustion was heavy in the air. You let out a slow sigh, stretching your arms over your head as you leaned back in the chair. Mind buzzed with information from the anatomy lecture—complex structures, nerves, and muscles all swirling together in a chaotic mess.

Being a medical student was no joke. Between the countless hours of lectures, labs, and the never-ending stream of exams, it felt like there was hardly time to breathe, let alone focus on anything outside of school. Relationships? That was out of the question. Who had time for the emotional rollercoaster of commitment when you could barely keep up with the textbooks?

"Hey," came a familiar voice from beside you.

You turned your head to see Yeosang slipping into the seat next to you, his expression as calm and composed as ever. His light blonde hair fell just slightly into his eyes, and he pushed it back with an absent-minded flick of his hand. Even after hours of classes, he still looked effortlessly put together, which was more than you could say for yourself.

"You surviving?" he asked, his lips quirking into a small smile as he dropped his bag onto the floor.

"Barely," you chuckled, rubbing your temples. "Today was brutal."

Yeosang nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me about it. Anatomy’s kicking my ass. I don’t know how you’re managing to keep up with all of this."

You shrugged, trying to play it off even though you knew the material was just as hard for you. "You just do what you can, I guess. It’s not like we have a choice. We’re all drowning in the same boat."

He smirked, his eyes drifting toward me. "Lucky I have you to help me stay afloat."

It was a lighthearted comment, but it carried the familiar tone of your casual dynamic. Yeosang and you had developed this strange, unspoken arrangement over the past few months. Friends with benefits, no strings attached, no drama. You both agreed early on that neither of you wanted anything serious. Medical school was already overwhelming; the idea of adding the complications of a relationship into the mix felt like an unnecessary distraction. And honestly, it worked. You kept things simple, fun—just two people who got along well, enjoyed each other's company, and let off steam when the stress of school became too much. You never had sex with him tho. With no one. You thought it would interfere with the feelings between two people, hence you and Yeosang only had make out sessions for now. And he was okay with it. Tho, it was about to tkae a 180 degree turn..

"Yeah, I guess you’re lucky," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

His grin widened, and he gave you a playful nudge back. "Speaking of which, I was wondering if you were free tonight. You need help with some of this anatomy stuff. We’ve got that exam coming up, and I’m seriously struggling."

"Anatomy?" you raised an eyebrow. "That’s not exactly light studying."

"I know, I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But if I don’t get this stuff down, I’m screwed. You’re better at this than I am, and I could use the help."

You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. It had been a long day, and you were tempted to just go home and crash, but the thought of studying alone didn’t sound appealing either. Plus, you knew Yeosang needed the help. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t mind spending time with him—especially in a more relaxed setting.

"Fine," you finally agreed, gathering your things and standing up. "But you owe me coffee or something for this."

"Deal," he said, standing up as well, his smile genuine. "I’ll make sure to have some at my place. You’ll need it."

---

Yeosang’s apartment wasn’t far from campus, and the walk there was peaceful, the evening air cool and crisp as you made your way through the quiet streets. When you arrived, he unlocked the door and ushered you inside, the familiar scent of his place hitting you immediately. It was clean, minimalist, the kind of space that felt uncluttered and calm—perfect for someone like him, who always managed to maintain that same composed demeanor no matter how stressful school became.

"Make yourself at home," he said, tossing his bag onto the couch as he headed toward the kitchen. "I’ll grab us some coffee."

You dropped your things on the dining table, already pulling out the anatomy textbook and notes. It was a massive textbook, the kind that seemed to weigh as much as all your collective stress, but you flipped it open, scanning through the sections you knew you'd be covering.

Yeosang returned a few moments later, setting two mugs of coffee on the table before sliding into the seat besides you. He leaned back casually, watching as you flipped through the pages, his eyes following the movement of your hands.

"So, where do we start?" he asked.

You took a sip of the coffee, the warmth of it soothing after a long day. "Let’s go over the musculoskeletal system first. I know that’s usually where people get tripped up."

For the next hour or so, you worked through the material, explaining the finer points while Yeosang asked questions here and there. Despite the subject matter being dense, the atmosphere between you was relaxed, easy. It was always like this with Yeosang—no pressure, no tension. Just a comfortable rhythm.

But as you moved through the material, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered on you a little longer than usual, the way his hand would brush against yours when he reached for his pen or the way his knee pressed lightly against yours beneath the table. It was subtle, but it was there. Familiar.

Eventually, you leaned back, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a long sigh. "Okay, I think we’ve covered enough for now. You should be good for the exam."

Yeosang didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted in his seat, his eyes watching you with that same quiet intensity you'd seen before—when the interactions had veered into something less academic, something more physical.

"You’re a lifesaver," he finally said, his voice lower, softer than before. He leaned in just a little, his arm brushing against yours as his eyes locked onto you. "I really don’t know how I’d get through this without you."

There it was—that shift, that unspoken tension that had always existed between the two of you, just beneath the surface. You felt it too, the pull between, the way your casual arrangement had always felt so effortless, so natural. No strings, no complications. Just the two of you, in moments like this, where the lines blurred between study partners and something more.

You met his gaze, heart rate picking up slightly as you saw the way his expression had changed. His hand, warm and sure, moved to rest on your thigh, fingers gently tracing small, lazy circles there. It wasn’t aggressive, just a quiet, deliberate touch that sent a shiver through your body.

"Yeosang," you began, voice trailing off as his hand moved a little higher, his touch firm but not demanding.

"We’ve been studying for a while," he murmured, his voice low and smooth as his thumb grazed the inside of your thigh. "Maybe we should take a break."

"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to do. You wanted to.. have sex with him, that's for sure. He was a good guy, whom could be even better in bed, you thought. But was it ethical? to fuck your.. best friend? Without being in a serious relationship? Well, in reality, friends with benefits is known for exactly that thing but at first you omitted that detail.. You loved how good you get along with him, all the intimate moments you had, without the proper sexual part. You were a virgin after all..

and you always thought that you'd never fuck him. But was it the same today...?

You never told him this, yes.. You remembered. You never told him you never had sex, either. The reason you were still "friends with benefits" if you could even call making out that, was that he was damn patient with you. You loved that about him.

"W-what do you wanna do?" you asked, seemingly confused but you knew where this was going.

"I mean.. just the usual, if you don't want something more" he said.

There it was. His patience running thin but never actually doing something about it. He was patient. Now, it was up to you. He was contently looking into your eyes, waiting for any sign from you.

Your hand went for his biceps, looking in his eyes. Then, he slowly went in for a kiss, not wanting to startle you. The kiss was needy, lustful, like it has always been. Tongues interlocking and touching, his hands were all over you.

He'd always get turned on from kissing and touching you. It was partly sexual, after all. And he always also got slightly hard, but he'd take care of it by himself later that day. It was.. sketchy, how patient he was. Seconds later you acted on instinct and impulse, but where did the action come from? Your right hand went from his biceps to his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.

Yeosang stopped for a moment and looked at you, surprised. "Hm? Tell me sweetie, what do you wanna do?" he said, cupping your face. "Tell me" he murmured in a soft tone.

"I-uh" you stuttered.

"Hm?"

You didn't continue your words but you still answered his question. Your hand rode up his thigh, even closer to his crotch. Then, almost acting on instinct, your hand unbuckled his pants. He smirked at your action and leaned in for a slower, sloppier kiss. He smiled against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. He took you in his embrace and placed you in his lap, still kissing you. His hands went traveling, slowly making their way up to your breasts, to which you flinched for a short second.

He stopped.

"Hey, we don't have to do this if you don't feel comfortable with it. We can do the usual" he said in a reassuring tone.

"N-no" you said. "I wanna do this."

"Then.. may I?" he asked.

"Yes " you firmly said, kinda excited for what was gonna happen next.

You went in for a kiss again, your hands carresing his back softly. As you embraced him you started taking off his shirt, his muscles leaving you speechless. He saw your expression and giggled, finding you cute. He also took off your shirt, then he nodded, asking you if he can also take your bra off. You nodded affirmative and he left your chest bare in front of him.

Yeosang embraced you and put you on the desk, pushing away all the anatomy books you were supposed to have started studying by now. He took off your scrubs slowly. Yes, you had a practical that day and you were too damn lazy to go home and change yoursekf befoee going over at Yeosang and you also went right after classes. On the other note, he was wearing jeans cause he had only anatomy classes today. As soon as he took care of your clothes he also took care of his, both of you being left in only your underwear. His cock was already straining against the briefs, where your eyes spent a little too much time to stare at. He didn't say anything, even tho he probably saw you.

He took of your panties and threw them on the floor and looked contently at you. His rifht hand rode up your thigh and went for your folds, being really patient wirh you. He was looking you in your eyes to see any discomfort or sometning. But as soon as he saw that you were okay with it, he used two of his fingers to thrust them in. You moaned softly at the sensation, arching your back in response.

After he prepped you for a couple of minutes, basically already making your legs slightly tremble, he took you in his embrace and took you to his room where he put you on the bed. He softly pushed you back as he kneeled halfway on the edge of the bed. He took his briefs off and his cock sprung out, leaving you agape. He climbed on tbe bed right between you, feeling his length right against your folds.

"WAIT, wait." you suddenly shouted.

"Hm? what happened?" he said confused.

"I have to tell you something-"

What? Tell me" he sounded a bit worried avout what you'd say.

"It's just that, uh- Ah fuck it. I haven't had sex... never." you finally told him. "So please.. be gentle with me...?" you whispered.

Yeosang giggled. "Seriously? This is what you've been stressed about? Don't worry, I'll take good care of you, silly." he giggled and continued.. "May I? I want to make sure you're comfortable and all.." he whispered.

"Y-yes." you shyly said.

He looked at you and observed your expression. He knew you were turned the fuck on. Your folds literally dripping on the mattress, legs slightly shaking from only his fingers and eyes wide to see what he eas about to do.

"You don't know just how much I've wated this... but I care too damn much about you to have pushed the note or make you do something. Thanks.. for trusting me" he smiled against your thigh.

Yeosang stroked his length for a couple of times, then opened the drawer besides the bed. He took a condom out and put it on, making you feel even safer with him. He looked you in the eyes and nodded, to which you nodded back and he slowly pushed himself in. Your back slightly arched under his action, eyes teary and your hands holding onto his hands. He started slowly thrusting, watching you contently.

"Does it feel good to you?" he asked, hands holding your waist thightly.

"Y-yes!" you soflty shouted.

"Then.. mind if I go a little.. rough?" he bottomed down. "You gotta get a taste of how you'll be fucked in the future, sweetie"

You smiled. The little.. joke? you thought of it as a joke, yes, made you smile. He took that as a yes and as soon as he started thrusting a little bit faster, your chest rose up, soft muffled moans could be heard. You started to feel your core getting thighter and thigtber, you kinda new what that feeling was. To be true to yourself.. you haven't had sex with anyone but.. you fingered yourself at least twice since the semester started.

"Yeosang I-" you stuttered.

"Hm?" he was out of it.

"I'm.. c-close" you finally said.

"Me too" and as soon as he finished his words he raised your back up and took you in his embrace. You were now on your fours, back arching against his chest with every thrust. Kisses started trailing along your spine and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine. Within a couple more thrusts you finished, clenching onto him harshly. Surprised, he stopped for a short moment then started fucking you again, even more forcefully. It hurt but oh god... you were right when you told yourself he might be goon in bed. All sort of thoughts were running through your head, your chest slowly falling on the mattress.

He lifted you up.

"I'm not done... yet" his thrusts became sloppier and heavier, panting softly in thr nape of your neck, leaving kisses all over. As soon as his hands found their way to your breasts and pinched your nipples, you moaned loudly and.... squirted all over the place. Yeosang found that damn hot and came as soon as your moan revebrated through his body. He softly fucked you through his high, then came to a stop.

He slowly put you down and pulled out, throwing the condom away. He covered you with the weighted blanket he'd always had in his bed and hugged you thightly.

"...hey. How was.... it?" he spoke first in a soft tone.

"..A-amazing" you said, head still dizzy. "Though.." you continued.

"Hm?"

"I didn't quite expect to.. you know. Squirt..?" you giggled. "You're really something, Yeosang"

A smile rose on his face, "and this is not even everything that I can do" he laughed, teasingly.

"I bet"

"Hah, come on now. Let's get you washed up." he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03

[thehistoriccemetery]

How They Would React to Seeing Your Abusive Parent

Another drabble about everyone’s favorite BG3 ladies: Shadowheart, Karlach, Minthara, and Jaheira. (Sorry Lae’zel simps, I really couldn’t think of her reaction here. If anyone has one please feel free to repost with your own headcannon!)

CW: Past abuse

If anyone has any ideas for more of these, PLEASE comment or send in a request. I’m running out of ideas so fast.

——————————————————————

Shadowheart

Shadowheart was just a kid when she was abducted by the Sharrans. So she understands what it’s like to have such hatred and fear for someone who you can’t help but care about.

She lets you take the lead entirely. If you want to leave, she’ll make an exit. If you want to stay, she’s right beside you. Hells, if you want to see their head roll, her weapon is at the ready.

She doesn’t usually allow for public displays of affection, but she’d wrap you in her arms and carry you if it was what you needed right now. You’ll settle for squeezing her hand when you’re feeling particularly nervous.

She only steps in when your parent moves to approach you. You are trembling, and you squeeze her hand frantically. This is her cue.

Before they can get within 10 feet of you, Shadowheart is in front of you. Four spirits dance around the two of you, guarding you from anyone who dares inch closer.

It is not a threat but a warning. Your parent throws up their hands in understanding. They will not try anything else.

Karlach

It takes everything in her to not just fly into a rage on the spot, but when she looks at you and she sees only fear, she stays calm. You need her under control, so that is what she will be.

When you first told her about everything your parent had done she had asked if you wanted them dead. She was honestly a little disappointed when you said no, but she understood. She would respect your wishes. Your parent could stay alive, for now.

“But I swear on all seven hells if they ever touch you again…”

Karlach stands between you and your parent, not even let them so much as look at you. She pulls the most intimidating stance she can muster. Demonsbane. She could send hells’ mightiest soldiers away with that look.

She keeps a hand on her weapon. Her tail wrapped protectively around you. No one is to so much as lay a hand on you, or they will truly understand what the fury of Avernus means.

Minthara

When you told Minthara about your parent, she asked if you wanted her to kill them. You said if they were to die, then you needed to be the one to kill them. They were your responsibility. It felt cowardly to send in someone in your place.

Still you didn’t want to kill them. The thought made you sick. Parenticide. A burden you would have to carry forever.

Minthara tells you that in drow culture it is considered an honor for a parent to be killed by their child. “They deserve to die with no such honor,” she bites.

“Vengeance can be a bitter pill for such a kind soul,” she told you. “Whatever you cannot bear, I will take from you.”

So it’s not particularly surprising to anyone when you find out your parent is dead under mysterious circumstances.

You do not ask if it was her. She does not tell you. This will not be your burden.

Jaheira

You instinctively gasp and grab at Jaheira’s wrist when you see them. “Stand tall, cub,” she whispers into your ear. “I am with you.”

She rest a hand on your shoulder. She stands right behind you. She is with you. She will not let anything happen to you, but she will not interfere until necessary. She trusts you. You’ve got this.

You’ve always seen her calling you cub as a simple pet name, not so dissimilar to how the elderly innkeep calls everyone honey. Now the name takes on a new meaning. You may be vulnerable, seem like an easy target, but you’ve got a mama bear behind you. And she will fuck up anyone who threatens you.

You find power in her words. No one will hurt you. You feel strong.

[dreamersworldduh]

RISKY DECISIONS

• Oliver Queen x Male!Reader

SUMMARY — being an assistant is supposed to be an hell of a job, at least that was how the movies make it seems. Yet somehow it’s the complete opposite for you when you become an assistant to Mayor Oliver Queen.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 9.3k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! Hi! Sorry for the delay, I couldn’t choice which fic I wanted to do between Oliver Queen and Nate Jacobs, plus I have my first request that I’m writing, so I did to them all. Enjoy! 😚

You never imagined that living in a place like Star City would lead you to be sitting across from its enigmatic and undeniably handsome mayor, Oliver Queen, on a date of all things. Life has a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them, and this was certainly one of those moments. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd go from an ordinary citizen in a bustling city to sharing an intimate evening with one of its most powerful and mysterious figures. But, as they say, fate works in mysterious ways.

It all began on what you thought was just another ordinary day, one where you were desperately scouring job listings and hoping to find something, anything, that could help pay the bills. As an art major fresh out of college, you'd always envisioned a life filled with creative pursuits—painting, galleries, exhibitions, and maybe even a small studio of your own someday. However, reality had other plans. The bills didn't stop, and your bank account certainly wasn't growing any larger. That's when the job posting for an assistant position in the mayor's office caught your eye.

It wasn't exactly a dream job, but it was stable, well-paying, and honestly, you couldn't afford to be picky. So, you applied, never thinking you'd actually hear back. To your surprise, you received a call within days. A whirlwind of an interview followed—though, admittedly, the moment you saw Oliver Queen walk into the room, you barely remembered what you said. His presence was larger than life: sharp blue eyes that seemed to see right through you, a confident smile that somehow managed to be both charming and intimidating, and the kind of charisma that could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room. By some miracle (or perhaps your desperation showed just enough to make you seem dedicated), you landed the job.

At first, the position was everything you anticipated—and maybe a little less glamorous than you'd hoped. Your days were filled with the predictable rhythm of office life: fetching endless cups of coffee, juggling the mayor's ever-changing schedule, filing documents that seemed to multiply overnight, and acting as a buffer between your boss and the chaotic world of Star City politics. The office buzzed with constant activity, from council meetings to press conferences, all of it demanding your attention. You often found yourself staying late to meet impossible deadlines or untangling last-minute crises that seemed to pop up without fail. It wasn't the creative dream you'd envisioned, but it was stable work that kept your head above water. For that alone, you were grateful.

Still, the job came with its challenges. You quickly learned that Star City's political landscape was as turbulent as its streets. Factions bickered over funding and policies while the media scrutinized every move the mayor's office made. More than once, you found yourself running interference during heated debates or smoothing over tense situations with quick thinking and a calm demeanor. The work was demanding, but it left little room for boredom.

What you didn't expect, however, was how involved Mayor Queen was with his staff—or, to your growing surprise, how often he interacted with you personally. You'd heard the rumors before you took the job: that he was aloof, enigmatic, and often kept to himself. His reputation painted a picture of a man who carried his secrets like armor, a leader whose complicated past made him both a hero and a mystery to Star City's citizens. But the man you came to know was so much more than the headlines suggested.

Oliver had a presence that was hard to ignore. Whether he was striding into the office with his signature confidence or leaning over a conference table to make a point, his sheer charisma filled the room. What struck you most, however, was the surprising warmth behind the stern exterior. He wasn't just the brooding figure the tabloids made him out to be. He had a sharp wit and an easy, disarming sense of humor that could catch you off guard. He took the time to remember the little things—your favorite coffee order, your comments about your artwork, and even the days you looked particularly tired after long hours.

At first, your interactions were brief, professional exchanges—a quick thank-you for a report or a casual nod as he passed your desk. But those fleeting moments gradually grew into something more. Conversations in passing turned into longer discussions during late-night work sessions, where the two of you often found yourselves the last ones in the office. He'd linger, asking questions about your background, your aspirations, and what had brought you to Star City. You found yourself opening up in ways you hadn't expected, drawn in by his genuine interest and the way he seemed to truly listen when you spoke.

And then there were the glimpses of vulnerability, the cracks in his armor that revealed the man beneath the title. You could see the weight he carried—the burdens of his position, the responsibility he felt for the city, and perhaps even the ghosts of his past. There were moments when his smile faltered, when his gaze lingered on something unseen, and you realized just how much he gave of himself to lead Star City. It made him more human, more real, and in turn, it made your admiration for him grow.

Before long, you began to notice the subtle shifts in your dynamic. The way his gaze would linger just a moment too long when you spoke. The warmth in his voice when he addressed you by name. The private smiles he seemed to reserve just for you. It was as though he saw something in you that no one else did, and the realization sent a flutter through your chest every time. What had started as an unassuming assistant job was slowly transforming into something far more significant—something you never could have anticipated.

It wasn't long before the dynamic between you and Oliver began to shift in ways you couldn't quite define but couldn't ignore either. At first, it was subtle, so subtle that you wondered if you were reading too much into it. A fleeting glance, a brush of fingers when he handed you a file, the way his voice softened slightly when he said your name—these small, delicate moments began to stand out amidst the chaos of your daily responsibilities. It was easy to dismiss them at first as coincidence, or perhaps just a byproduct of your overactive imagination. After all, this was Oliver Queen, the mayor of Star City—your boss.

But the signs kept coming, and they became harder to rationalize. Like the way his gaze would linger on you during meetings, just a beat longer than it did with anyone else. Or the way his entire demeanor seemed to change when you spoke about your artistic ambitions, a rare spark of curiosity lighting his usually serious eyes. He'd ask questions—not the polite, cursory ones people ask out of obligation, but genuine inquiries that made you feel like he actually cared about what you had to say. And then there were the smiles, small and fleeting but entirely private, as though they were meant for you and no one else.

One moment in particular stuck with you. You'd been working late on a policy briefing, your desk cluttered with papers and a cold cup of coffee. Oliver had come by to check on your progress, leaning casually against the edge of your desk as he skimmed through a draft you'd prepared. When he handed it back, his hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against yours. It was barely noticeable, but it sent a jolt through you nonetheless. He'd given you one of those rare smiles then—soft, almost shy—and for a moment, the bustling office around you seemed to fade away.

Still, you told yourself not to read into it. He was your boss, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to create some awkward misunderstanding that could jeopardize the job you'd worked so hard to secure. But the moments kept adding up, like puzzle pieces that refused to fit into the neat, professional boundaries you'd tried to maintain.

And then, one evening, Oliver made it clear that you weren't imagining things. It had been an exhausting day, the kind where the tension in the office was almost palpable. A city council crisis had thrown everyone into overdrive, and by the time the dust had settled, the office was nearly empty, save for you and a few other stragglers finishing up loose ends. You were at your desk, methodically packing up for the night, when you heard his familiar voice behind you.

"Long day," he said, his tone warm but edged with fatigue. You turned to find him standing a few feet away, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up—a rare, unguarded version of the polished mayor the public usually saw. He looked tired, but his gaze was steady, focused entirely on you.

"It's an understatement," you replied with a tired smile, reaching for your bag. You expected him to make a quick comment and head out, as he usually did after late nights like this. But instead, he lingered, his hands resting in his pockets as though he were trying to decide something.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," he said finally, his voice low but firm. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a vulnerability you'd never seen before. You straightened, suddenly very aware of the shift in the air between you.

"Of course," you said, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart began to race.

He took a small step closer, the distance between you shrinking. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you," he began, his words deliberate, as though he'd been rehearsing them. "And I'd like to spend more time with you—outside of work."

The room seemed to grow quieter, the hum of the office fading into the background. His words hung in the air, carrying a weight that made your pulse quicken. There was no mistaking his meaning now, no room for misinterpretation. This wasn't a casual invitation to discuss a project over coffee or grab a quick lunch. This was personal, intimate—a step into uncharted territory.

"Are you... asking me out?" you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curved into a soft, almost sheepish smile, the kind you rarely saw from him. "Yes," he said simply. "If you're interested."

For a moment, all you could do was stare, your mind racing as you processed the enormity of what was happening. The mayor of Star City, the man who had once seemed so untouchable, was standing in front of you, vulnerable and waiting for your answer.

You agreed, of course—how could you not? But even as you said yes, a thousand thoughts raced through your mind. How had this even happened? How had a job you took out of sheer necessity led to this? As you sat across from Oliver now, his attention focused entirely on you, you couldn't help but marvel at the twists and turns life had taken to bring you to this exact moment.

As the evening unfolded, the boundaries between professional and personal seemed to blur, dissolving into something warm, candid, and deeply human. The weight of Oliver's office—of city budgets, policies, and public appearances—felt like a distant memory. For the first time, the man across from you wasn't Star City's mayor, nor a public figure surrounded by layers of protocol and mystery. He was just Oliver, and his curiosity about your life was genuine in a way that caught you completely off guard.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table as he spoke, his piercing blue eyes never straying from yours. "What made you choose art?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with a genuine interest that made your heart skip.

At first, you hesitated. It wasn't often someone asked about your passions with such sincerity, and you weren't sure how much to share. But there was something in the way he waited—patient, attentive, and utterly engaged—that made you feel safe enough to open up. You spoke about how art had always been your refuge, a way to process the chaos of life and transform it into something meaningful. You told him about the quiet joy of sketching in a sunlit room as a child, the long hours spent perfecting your craft, and how your dream of making a living from your passion had always seemed just out of reach.

Oliver nodded thoughtfully as you spoke, his expression shifting between admiration and understanding. He asked questions that went deeper than surface-level curiosity: What inspired you? What challenges had you faced? What did you hope to achieve? It wasn't just polite conversation; it was as though he wanted to piece together every fragment of what made you who you were. His attention made you feel seen in a way that few ever had, and the ease with which the words flowed from you surprised even yourself.

Then it was his turn. Slowly, carefully, he began to share pieces of himself—pieces you'd only glimpsed through the carefully curated image of Oliver Queen the public knew. He spoke of his years away from Star City, the pain of losing people he loved, and the weight of the mistakes that had shaped him. His voice carried a quiet intensity as he described the sense of purpose he had found upon returning home, the drive to rebuild a city he felt responsible for.

"I never thought I'd end up here," he admitted, leaning back slightly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Running a city, leading people—it wasn't part of the plan. There were times I didn't even think I'd make it through the day, let alone find a reason to keep going. But Star City... this place, these people, they gave me that reason."

His honesty was raw, vulnerable, and it struck a chord deep within you. It was one thing to admire him as a leader, a symbol of resilience for the city, but hearing the weight of his struggles made him feel more real, more human. He wasn't just the polished figure on campaign posters or the commanding presence in a boardroom—he was someone who had fought to piece himself back together, someone who had chosen to carry the burdens of an entire city on his shoulders.

Of course, it wasn't all heavy confessions and heartfelt exchanges. This was Oliver Queen, after all—a man whose charm was practically legendary, a weapon he wielded with precision even now. Throughout the night, moments of levity broke through, lighthearted and flirtatious in a way that left you both blushing and grinning.

"You have this way of pulling people in," he said at one point, his lips curving into a sly smile. "It's not just your art—it's the way you see the world. It's captivating."

You laughed, trying to brush off the compliment even as your cheeks warmed. "That's rich coming from you," you teased. "I'm sure you've had plenty of practice captivating people."

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe," he admitted, his gaze locking with yours, "but that doesn't make this any less real."

The weight of his words hit you like a jolt. It was playful, yes, but there was an unmistakable sincerity beneath the flirtation. He wasn't just flattering you; he meant every word, and the realization left you momentarily speechless.

And then there were his eyes. You'd always thought they were striking, but tonight, they were utterly mesmerizing. In the intimate glow of the room, they seemed to hold a depth and warmth that drew you in completely. There was an intensity in the way he looked at you, as though you were the only person in the world, the only thing worth his attention. You found yourself hanging on his every word, not because he was Oliver Queen, the mayor, but because of the way he made you feel: seen, valued, and undeniably alive.

By the time the conversation began to wind down, you glanced at your watch in surprise. Hours had slipped by without you even noticing, the world outside fading into irrelevance. You weren't sure what the future held—what this connection would mean or where it might lead—but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. All that mattered was the man in front of you, the shared laughter and confessions, and the undeniable spark that had taken you both by surprise.

Your relationship with Oliver had evolved into something that neither of you could easily define, but it was becoming clear to both of you that the lines between personal and professional were growing increasingly blurred. You found yourselves spending more and more time together—not just outside of work but during long hours in the office as well. Though you both tried to maintain a semblance of professionalism in front of others, it was becoming harder to keep up appearances. Especially when Oliver seemed determined to test those boundaries every chance he got.

One afternoon, you were in his office, helping him sort through a mountain of paperwork that needed his signature or review. The large space, usually a hub of activity, was uncharacteristically quiet, with most of the staff out to lunch. You sat comfortably in one of the plush lounge chairs positioned across from his desk, your legs crossed as you sifted through a stack of documents. Oliver was seated behind the desk, but you couldn't help noticing that his attention wasn't exactly on the papers in front of him.

"Okay, so this one is for the new community center funding," you explained, glancing up at him briefly before returning to the next item in the pile. "And this one is for—Oliver, are you even listening?"

He didn't respond, not really. Instead, he leaned back slightly in his chair, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you in a way that made your stomach do a little flip. You furrowed your brow, confused, and a little exasperated by his lack of focus.

"Oliver?" you prompted again, your tone carrying a hint of warning. That's when he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back and rounding the desk with a purposeful stride.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and curiosity as you tilted your head to look up at him.

Still, he said nothing. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours before firmly taking it in his grasp. Your heart skipped a beat as he gently tugged you to your feet, leading you behind the desk. Before you could protest or even fully process what was happening, he dropped back into his chair, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion.

"Uh, no, sir," you said quickly, shaking your head even as your cheeks flushed with heat. "This is definitely not happening. Do I need to remind you that your sister, who also happens to be my boss, would kill me if she saw me sitting on the big boss' lap?"

Oliver threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound filling the room and sending a shiver down your spine. "Relax," he said, his voice low and teasing as his hands rested lightly on your hips. "Everyone's out to lunch. We have the whole office to ourselves."

As if to further his point, he leaned forward slightly, brushing his lips against the side of your neck in a way that made your resolve falter. You wanted to protest, to remind him of the risks, but his charm—and the warmth of his touch—was dangerously persuasive.

"Oliver..." you began, your tone meant to be scolding but coming out far weaker than you intended. He smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying how easily he was unraveling your composure.

"You worry too much," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with mischief. "You work hard, you're brilliant at what you do, and you deserve to take a little break every now and then."

His lips pressed another soft kiss to your neck, and you felt your resolve slipping further. You glanced toward the office door, half-expecting someone to barge in despite Oliver's assurances that you were alone. But no one came, and for the moment, it was just the two of you in the quiet, sunlit office.

"Fine," you relented, though your tone carried a mix of exasperation and amusement. "But if anyone walks in, you get to explain this."

His grin widened, and he leaned back in the chair, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt protective and intimate all at once. "Deal," he said simply, his voice low and satisfied.

For a few stolen moments, the world outside the office seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your bubble of shared laughter, quiet teasing, and the unmistakable spark of something neither of you could quite put into words.

Suddenly, Oliver's lips claimed yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was heated, passionate, and filled with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs. His hands, firm and commanding, cupped your face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your heart pound wildly. The world around you blurred and disappeared, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the electricity crackling between you.

Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, Oliver's hands slid down to your waist, guiding you with a confidence that left no room for second-guessing. With a slight shift, he maneuvered you to straddle his lap, his strength evident as he adjusted your position as though you weighed nothing at all. Your knees pressed into the soft leather of his chair as you braced yourself on his shoulders, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

His hands found their way to your hips, gripping you firmly as though grounding you in the moment. But he didn't stop there. His fingers moved lower, kneading your curves with a mix of control and reverence, until they rested on the swell of your ass. His touch was possessive, his palms squeezing with a deliberate pressure that sent shivers racing down your spine.

Your body pressed closer against his, and that's when you felt it— his dick—hard, undeniable, and pressing against you with a need that matched the fire in his kiss. A quiet gasp escaped your lips as he tilted his hips slightly, guiding you against him with a motion that made the heat between you both nearly unbearable. His hands urged you to move, rolling your hips against his in a slow, deliberate rhythm that left no doubt about his desire for you.

The friction was electric, a spark that ignited something primal within you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your lips parting to let him take the lead as his kiss grew deeper, more consuming. His tongue teased yours, each movement of his lips and hands drawing you further into the whirlwind of his passion.

"Oliver..." you murmured breathlessly against his lips, your voice barely audible. But he didn't stop. If anything, your quiet plea only seemed to fuel him further. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave you tingling, and he pressed you down harder against him, making sure you felt every inch of him.

The sensation was overwhelming, his touch, his kiss, the way he looked at you with a gaze that burned with both desire and something deeper, something more tender. It wasn't just lust—it was connection, raw and unfiltered, as though the barriers between you both had finally shattered.

In that moment, there was no office, no mayoral responsibilities, no rules or consequences. There was only Oliver, his body against yours, his hands guiding you, and the all-consuming pull that neither of you could resist.

Your fingers moved almost instinctively, as though they had a mind of their own, reaching up to loosen Oliver's perfectly knotted tie. The soft silk slipped through your fingers, and with each tug, you felt a thrill rush through you at the sight of his reaction. Oliver's lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, his eyes glinting with delight as he watched you work. There was something utterly magnetic about his gaze, the way it locked onto you with unrelenting focus, making you feel like you were the only person in his world at that moment.

"Taking charge, are we?" he teased, his voice low and rich with amusement, though the heat in his tone betrayed just how much he was enjoying this.

You didn't respond, not with words at least. Instead, you let the tie fall free, the fabric sliding between your fingers as you dropped it onto the desk behind him. The small act felt bolder than it should have, but the way his smile deepened, his sharp jawline relaxing just slightly, made your pulse quicken.

Your fingers hesitated for just a beat before moving to the top button of his crisp white shirt. As you slipped it free, your fingertips brushed lightly against the warm skin of his chest, and you felt him draw in a slow, deliberate breath. The air between you seemed to crackle, the quiet tension growing with every passing second. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver racing down your spine.

Encouraged by the way he was watching you, you continued. One button became two, then three, and with each flick of your fingers, more of his chest was revealed. The smooth, taut skin beneath his shirt was a distraction all its own, and the heat radiating from his body only seemed to amplify the electricity between you. His collar loosened, exposing just a hint of his collarbone, and you couldn't help but let your fingertips trail lightly against the edge of the fabric as you worked your way downward.

Oliver's hands moved to rest gently on your hips, his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. "You're full of surprises," he murmured, his voice quieter now, softer, but no less filled with that unmistakable heat. His smile had turned from playful to something deeper, something laced with admiration and desire.

As you undid the next button, the edges of his shirt began to fall open, revealing more of his toned chest, and you couldn't help but let your fingers linger for a moment, brushing against the smooth lines of his skin. His muscles tensed slightly under your touch, and his eyes darkened, the playful glint replaced by something far more intense.

You were acutely aware of the closeness between you, the way his breath mingled with yours as you leaned closer, your fingers still working on the remaining buttons. The quiet intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, each small movement drawing you both deeper into uncharted territory. With every undone button, every fleeting touch, the barriers between you seemed to fall away, leaving only the undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore.

Oliver's lips crashed against yours with renewed intensity, his kiss deep and commanding as he lifted you effortlessly by your legs. You barely had time to gasp before he was standing, his strong arms supporting you as if you weighed nothing, and placing you on the cool, polished surface of the desk. The sudden shift in position sent a rush of heat through you, but practicality took over for a brief moment as you broke the kiss to hurriedly push the paperwork to the side.

The sound of the papers scattering across the desk made him chuckle, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Really?" he teased, his voice low and filled with amusement.

"Shut up," you shot back playfully, grabbing his face and pulling him back into another kiss before he could say anything else. Your lips silenced his laughter, and his hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. The kiss was fiery and relentless, leaving you breathless as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your mouth.

Then Oliver broke the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as his lips trailed down your jawline and onto your neck. His hot breath sent shivers racing down your spine, and the scrape of his stubble against your skin made your heart race. His hands, steady and deliberate, found the buttons of your shirt, and you felt the subtle tug as he began to undo them one by one. There was no rush in his movements—each button was undone slowly, almost torturously, as though he wanted you to feel every second of the moment. His lips followed the path of his fingers, brushing against the newly exposed skin and leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Your hands, seemingly acting of their own accord, moved to his waist. You fumbled slightly as you found his belt buckle, your fingers trembling with a mix of anticipation and urgency. The clink of the metal as you unfastened it filled the quiet space around you, and you wasted no time pulling the zipper of his tailored pants down.

The pants slipped down his hips, falling into a crumpled heap around his feet, revealing a pair of tight black briefs that left very little to the imagination. Your breath hitched as your eyes were immediately drawn to the prominent bulge straining against the fabric, impossible to ignore. The sheer size of him made your pulse quicken, and a faint blush rose to your cheeks as your gaze lingered. He was rock-hard, his dick was pressing against the material, begging to be freed from its confines. The sight alone was enough to make your thighs press together, a rush of heat pooling low in your abdomen.

Oliver caught the way you were staring, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. "See something you like?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement and desire as he continued working on the last few buttons of your shirt.

You didn't answer—words felt unnecessary. Instead, you reached out, your fingers grazing over the waistband of his briefs, your touch tentative yet deliberate. The sensation of his hard length beneath your fingertips made him exhale sharply, his movements pausing briefly as though savoring the contact. The tension between you was palpable, every touch, every glance fanning the flames of a fire that had been building for far too long.

With a deliberate tug, you slid Oliver's briefs down, revealing him in all his glory. His nine-inch dick sprang free, thick, hard, and pulsing with need. The sight of him, fully aroused, made your breath hitch, your eyes lingering for a moment as you took him in. You bit your lip, a mixture of nervous anticipation and sheer desire coursing through you, before glancing up to meet his eyes. The way he looked at you—raw, hungry, and utterly captivated—only fueled your confidence.

Without breaking eye contact, you placed a hand on his chest and gave him a gentle push, urging him back into his chair. He complied willingly, sinking into the plush leather, his gaze never leaving yours. His lips curled into a faint smirk, but there was a flicker of tension in his jaw as though the anticipation was almost too much for him.

You slowly sank to your knees in front of him, your hands trailing down his thighs as you positioned yourself between them. The power dynamic had shifted slightly now, the usually confident and composed Oliver watching you with uncharacteristic vulnerability. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair as he waited for your next move.

Your hand reached out to wrap around the base of his shaft, your fingers barely managing to encircle his impressive girth. His skin was warm to the touch, the velvety smoothness contrasting with the hardness beneath. You gave him a tentative stroke, marveling at the way his body responded to you, the way his hips shifted slightly at your touch.

Leaning forward, you let your tongue dart out, flicking it lightly against the head of his dick. His sharp intake of breath was music to your ears, and the faint groan that followed sent a thrill rushing through you. Encouraged, you let your tongue trail along the length of him, your movements slow and deliberate as you tasted him for the first time. The salty, masculine flavor was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but savor every inch.

"God," Oliver murmured, his voice rough and strained. His hands twitched on the armrests, as though fighting the urge to grab you and take control. But he didn't—he let you set the pace, his trust in you evident in the way he surrendered to the moment.

With one last teasing lick, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth, inch by inch. The stretch was intense, but you relished the challenge, the way he filled you completely. You hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you began to move, your tongue swirling around him with each stroke.

Oliver's reaction was immediate. His head fell back against the chair, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. "You're... amazing," he managed to say, his voice heavy with pleasure. His hands left the armrests, one of them tangling in your hair as though he needed something to anchor himself.

You glanced up at him as you worked, his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The sight of him, undone and vulnerable, sent a wave of satisfaction coursing through you. You adjusted your angle, taking him deeper, and the way his grip tightened in your hair told you exactly how much he appreciated it.

The rhythm you set was slow at first, deliberate and teasing, but as his moans grew louder and his hips began to move in sync with you, you quickened your pace. The room was filled with the sounds of his pleasure, the quiet groans and gasps that made it clear you had him completely under your control. Every movement, every flick of your tongue, every pull of your lips was designed to drive him closer to the edge—and judging by the tension in his body, you were succeeding.

Suddenly, you pulled away, letting his length slip from your lips as you caught your breath. The moment lingered, both of you flushed and panting, the heat between you almost unbearable. Without a word, you rose to your feet, your movements deliberate, your eyes locked onto Oliver's. His gaze followed you intently, dark and filled with desire, as though he could hardly wait to see what you'd do next.

Your hands moved to your belt, the faint sound of the buckle clicking open breaking the tense silence in the room. Slowly, purposefully, you slid the leather strap free and let it drop to the floor. Oliver's lips parted slightly, his chest heaving as he watched you with rapt attention. You moved to your pants next, unbuttoning and unzipping them with agonizing slowness, letting them fall to pool at your feet. With one final motion, you slid your briefs down, freeing yourself completely.

Your length sprang free, hard and ready, the cool air sending a slight shiver down your spine. Oliver's eyes flickered down, his gaze darkening even further as he took you in. A low, appreciative growl escaped his lips, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he looked at you, his hunger evident in every line of his body.

Without hesitation, you climbed back onto his lap, straddling him. Your thighs pressed against his hips as his strong hands immediately found their place on your waist, gripping you possessively. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to make you gasp, the pressure grounding you as you shifted into place.

Oliver let out a guttural groan as your length grazed against his, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. The heat and hardness of his arousal pressed against yours, the friction intoxicating as you rolled your hips slightly. The faint slickness between your bodies only heightened the sensation, and you couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped your lips as your movements grew more deliberate.

"Damn," Oliver muttered, his voice rough and low as he tilted his head back slightly, his grip on your waist tightening. His usual composure was gone, replaced by pure, unfiltered desire. "You're going to make me cum."

You smirked, leaning forward just enough for your breath to ghost against his ear. "That's the idea," you teased, your voice soft but dripping with mischief.

Oliver growled again, his hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly. With an ease that spoke to his strength, he lifted you slightly, aligning you above him. The heat of his length pressed against your hole, and you felt a pulse of anticipation ripple through you. He held you there for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle, a stark contrast to the raw desire in his gaze. His hands steadied you, his touch a perfect mix of control and care.

You nodded, your lips parting as your breath hitched. "Always," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

With that, Oliver guided you down slowly, the pressure building as he pushed against you. The stretch was intense, but his firm, steady hands on your hips kept you grounded, helping you adjust inch by inch. The combination of his strength and gentleness left you breathless, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way he seemed to read your body so effortlessly.

As you sank lower, the feeling of him filling you completely sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you gasp and clutch at his shoulders for support. Oliver let out a deep, satisfied groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he finally buried himself within you. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your body alive with sensation as you both paused, letting the raw, intimate connection settle over you..

Oliver's lips claimed yours once more, a kiss that was deep and fervent, filled with passion that left you breathless. His hands remained firmly on your hips, his grip strong and steady, guiding your movements as you began to lift yourself slowly. The sensation of him inside you was intense, every inch of his length pressing against you in a way that made your entire body tremble.

You moved cautiously at first, rising up just enough for the stretch to ease before sinking back down, taking him in again. The friction was exquisite, a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your breath hitch with every motion. Oliver groaned against your lips, the low, guttural sound reverberating through you and spurring you on. His fingers dug into your hips, not enough to hurt but enough to ground you, to remind you of the control he still held even as he let you set the pace.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, you gasped for air, your hands braced against his shoulders for balance. His gaze met yours, piercing and filled with a hunger that sent a shiver racing down your spine. He leaned forward, capturing your lips again, his tongue teasing yours as your movements grew more confident, more fluid. Each rise and fall of your body sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the connection between you both deepening with every thrust.

Oliver's head fell back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as a groan escaped him. "You feel... so damn good," he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. The praise only fueled you, making you move faster, your hips rolling as you adjusted to the rhythm that had both of you teetering on the edge.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed beneath your hands as you rode him, the heat radiating from his skin. His hands slid from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer against him as if he couldn't bear to have even the slightest bit of space between you. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your body.

"Oliver..." you gasped, the sound of his name escaping your lips in a breathless moan. He responded with another low growl, his hands gripping you tighter as he began to meet your movements, thrusting up to match your rhythm. The chair creaked beneath you both, the quiet sound lost in the symphony of your ragged breaths and the unmistakable sounds of your bodies moving together.

Each motion brought a fresh wave of heat, the pressure building with every rise and fall. The connection between you was raw and consuming, the kind of intensity that blurred the world around you until there was nothing left but him—his touch, his kiss, and the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

Oliver's lips found yours again, his kiss searing and desperate, as if he needed to feel every part of you, to lose himself completely in the moment. And you let him, your movements growing bolder, faster, as you gave yourself over to the intoxicating rhythm of pleasure and passion that bound you both together.

You never imagined yourself in a situation like this—having sex in an office, no less the mayor's office—and with the mayor himself. The fact that Oliver Queen, your unofficial boyfriend, was the one making you unravel so completely felt like something out of a fever dream. But here you were, straddling him in his plush leather chair, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. The taboo nature of it all—the high-powered setting, the risk of someone walking in—only seemed to heighten the intensity, making every sensation feel sharper, more electrifying.

The thought of the unlocked door barely crossed your mind. If it had, you didn't care enough to stop. The pleasure coursing through you was too overwhelming, too consuming, to let the fear of being caught disrupt the moment. Oliver's hands gripped your hips possessively, guiding you as you moved, his strength grounding you even as your world felt like it was spinning out of control.

His head tilted back slightly, exposing the sharp angle of his jaw as he groaned deeply, the sound echoing through the otherwise empty office. His usually composed and polished demeanor had completely unraveled, leaving behind only the raw, passionate man beneath. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch. The way he looked at you—as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered—sent a rush of heat through your body.

"You're doing so good," he murmured, his voice rough and low, each word dripping with sincerity and desire. His praise sent a jolt of pleasure through you, spurring you to move faster, to take him deeper, to draw even more sounds of pleasure from his lips.

The documents behind you probably held the future of Star City in their inked words, but they were the farthest thing from your mind. All you could focus on was the way Oliver's hands explored your body, the way his lips occasionally captured yours in a searing kiss, the way his dick filled you completely with every movement.

The faint hum of city noise from the windows seemed a distant backdrop to the symphony of your shared breaths, quiet moans, and the creak of the chair beneath you. The unlocked door stood as a silent reminder of just how risky this was, but it only added to the thrill. Anyone could walk in—his other assistant, a council member, even Thea—and yet neither of you could bring yourselves to stop.

The sheer recklessness of the moment made it all the more exhilarating. The polished, professional space of the office felt almost surreal as a backdrop to something so intimate, so primal. This was the same place where press conferences were planned and city policies were crafted, and now it bore witness to a completely different kind of connection—a connection that was raw, electric, and undeniable.

You hadn't planned for this, hadn't expected to find yourself in a whirlwind romance with Star City's most powerful man. Yet, as you moved together, his hands gripping you tighter, his name falling from your lips in a breathless moan, you realized you wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Locked door or not, the passion between you was too powerful, too consuming, to be denied.

Suddenly, Oliver's eyes darkened with a new intensity, a spark of determination flickering across his face. Without a word, he tightened his grip on your hips, and in one fluid motion, he stood, his incredible strength evident as he lifted you effortlessly from his lap. The movement made you gasp, your body clinging to his as his dick stayed buried deep inside of you, the sensation making your head spin.

Before you could fully process what was happening, he turned and laid you down flat on the cool, polished surface of his desk. The contrast between the hard surface beneath you and the heat radiating from his body was electric, sending a shiver racing down your spine. Papers and folders scattered to the floor, forgotten in the haze of passion, as Oliver positioned himself over you, his hands firm and commanding as he held your legs in each of his hands.

He pushed your thighs apart, lifting your legs slightly to give himself the perfect angle. The possessiveness in his touch sent a thrill through you, making you feel utterly exposed yet completely safe at the same time. His grip was steady, his fingers pressing into your skin as he adjusted your position, and you couldn't help but marvel at the raw power in his every movement.

Without hesitation, Oliver began to thrust into you, his pace quickening with a new fervor that left you gasping for breath. The desk creaked slightly beneath the force of his movements, the sound mingling with the quiet moans and gasps that spilled from your lips with every powerful stroke. Each thrust was deliberate, his hips snapping against you with a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body.

"God, you feel so good," Oliver groaned, his voice rough and strained, every word dripping with raw desire. His gaze flickered between where your bodies were joined and your face, his expression a mix of concentration and unrelenting hunger. His intensity was overwhelming, consuming, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

Your hands instinctively reached out, gripping the edge of the desk for support as his thrusts grew deeper, harder, the angle sending shockwaves of pleasure straight through you. The fullness of him, the way he moved with such precision, made your head fall back, your lips parting in a breathless moan. Oliver leaned over you slightly, his strong hands keeping your legs steady as he drove into you with a pace that bordered on relentless.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of desire that drowned out everything else. Each thrust sent the desk sliding ever so slightly against the floor, a subtle reminder of the raw power behind Oliver's movements. His hands shifted slightly, his grip tightening as he adjusted the angle again, hitting a spot that made your entire body arch in response.

"Oliver!" you cried out, his name escaping your lips in a breathless moan as pleasure coursed through you like fire. He grinned at the sound, his usual smirk replaced with something darker, more primal.

"I love hearing that," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly as his pace quickened even further. His fingers dug into your thighs, anchoring you to him as he drove you closer to the edge. Each thrust was purposeful, each movement designed to wring every ounce of pleasure from your body, and you couldn't stop yourself from surrendering completely to him.

The desk beneath you seemed almost insignificant compared to the connection between you both, the way he moved, the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. The vulnerability of your position, the strength of his control—it was intoxicating, overwhelming, and utterly perfect.

The pressure in your body had been building steadily, each thrust of Oliver's hips pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your fingers curling tightly around the edge of the desk as the overwhelming pleasure coursed through you, making your entire body tremble. The intensity was almost too much, each wave of sensation crashing over you faster than the last, until you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

With one final thrust, the tension inside you snapped. Your back arched off the desk, your head falling back as a guttural moan escaped your lips. Heat rushed through you, your cum spilling out in hot, pulsing streams against your stomach, the release leaving you breathless and utterly consumed. The slick warmth spread across your skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of the office. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body.

Oliver slowed his movements for a moment, his gaze dropping to your stomach, where your cum glistened against your skin. His lips curled into a satisfied smile, the dark, hungry gleam in his eyes telling you just how much he enjoyed watching you come undone beneath him.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough and low, filled with both admiration and desire. But he wasn't done yet.

His hands tightened their grip on your legs, holding you firmly in place as he resumed his thrusts, this time with a newfound urgency. His movements grew faster, more erratic, the sound of his hips snapping against you filling the room as he chased his own release. The sight of you, still trembling from your climax, seemed to spur him on, his breathing ragged and heavy as he drove into you with relentless intensity.

The raw power of his movements left you gasping, your body still hypersensitive from your own pleasure. Each thrust sent another jolt through you, the rhythm pushing you to the edge of overstimulation even as it brought him closer to his peak. His head fell forward slightly, his jaw clenched, and his hands flexed against your skin as his pace quickened.

"God," he growled through gritted teeth, his voice rough and strained as the tension in his body built. You could feel him throbbing inside you, his muscles taut as he edged closer and closer. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a fiery intensity that made your breath hitch, and you knew he was seconds away from unraveling completely.

With one final, powerful thrust, his body tensed, his head tilting back as he let out a deep, guttural groan. His release came in hot, pulsing waves, filling your hole completely as his hands gripped you tightly, as though anchoring himself in the moment. The warmth of him, the way his body trembled slightly as he came, left you breathless all over again. His chest heaved with the effort, his gaze slowly returning to yours, softened now with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something intimate.

As the tension eased from his body, Oliver leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips—a stark contrast to the intensity of the moments before. "You're amazing," he murmured against your mouth, his voice still husky with the remnants of pleasure. The tenderness in his tone made your heart flutter, a perfect end to the wild, exhilarating ride you had just shared.

Suddenly, the faint murmur of voices drifted through the office door, snapping you out of your blissful haze. Your head whipped toward Oliver, your eyes wide with panic.

"Oh shit," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Oliver, ever calm under pressure, smirked slightly and grabbed your hand. "Come on," he said, tugging you down toward the space under the desk.

"This is not gonna work," you hissed, glancing at the scattered papers strewn across the floor—the remnants of your earlier passion—and the very visible evidence of what had just transpired. Your heart pounded as the sound of footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the unmistakable clack of heels.

The door creaked open, and you froze, crouched under the desk with Oliver. The sound of heels clicking against the floor sent a chill down your spine as the familiar voice of Thea Queen, Oliver's sister and your boss, echoed through the office.

"Ollie?" she called out, her tone sharp and inquisitive.

From your vantage point, you could see her shadow moving closer, her figure pausing as she took in the mess you'd left behind. Papers were scattered across the desk and floor, and—oh no—your pants and briefs were still in plain sight, lying in a heap next to Oliver's discarded clothing. You could only imagine the look of horror that must be dawning on her face as she pieced it together.

"Oh my god, Oliver!" Thea exclaimed, the disbelief in her voice palpable. "If you're going to have sex in your office, the least you could do is lock the damn door!"

You turned to Oliver, glaring at him with an expression that screamed, I told you so! He met your gaze with a sheepish grin and shrugged, mouthing, "Oops."

"Duly noted," Oliver replied aloud, his tone surprisingly casual for someone caught in such a compromising position. His calmness would've been impressive if you weren't on the verge of wanting to strangle him.

From her position above the desk, Thea sighed loudly, clearly exasperated. "Unbelievable," she muttered before she turned toward the door. But before leaving, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. "Oh, and tell Y/N when you're both...dressed that those papers still need to be on my desk by the end of the day. Got it?"

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. "Gotcha," you managed to reply, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

With one final huff, Thea walked out, but not before locking the door behind her. The sound of the lock clicking into place was strangely reassuring, though it did nothing to ease your mortification.

As the silence returned, you turned to Oliver, who was now sitting back on his heels under the desk, a smug smile plastered across his face. "See? Everything's under control," he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Oh, whatever," you replied, shaking your head as the two of you began gathering your clothes and the scattered papers. Despite the embarrassment, you couldn't deny the absurdity of the situation—or the fact that you wouldn't trade it for anything.

[corellianhounds]

Redrafting The Phantom Menace

This is an informal essay/pitch meeting restructuring and changing The Phantom Menace to better utilize its characters and to make it a more compelling sequence of events.

Word Count: 5k

Art Credit: Doug Chiang

I think The Phantom Menace needs some of the biggest revisions of the prequels to set these characters up to be used better not just in the trilogy but in the film itself because not only is Obi-Wan mostly absent for all of Act II and nothing he does in that time affects the main plot on Tatooine, but Amidala’s presence doesn’t really add anything to it either. She learns a little about the culture on Tatooine and she meets Anakin and Shmi (which will be relevant in the next movie), but nothing she says or does affects the plot. Any of her protests against Qui-Gon don’t amount to anything since he’s the adult calling the shots, nothing in Act III is affected by their regard of one another, and she honestly could have just met Anakin on the ship on their return to Coruscant. Qui-Gon ends up being the main character of the movie, which I think was a mistake when Kenobi should have been the lens through which we saw the story unfold.

I don’t especially care for the slavery plot point to begin with because it doesn’t compel me as much as if Anakin and Shmi were just dirt poor. The slavery scenario feels like a way for the plot to keep Anakin and Shmi apart and for Shmi to remain destitute and it takes any real choice of the matter out of their situation. Of course she’s going to let Anakin go the second an opportunity like the one Qui-Gon’s offering falls out of the sky, who wouldn’t?

If she’s stuck in the cycle of poverty and had a choice in the matter of sending her extra set of hands away while she stays behind, that gives a little more meat to her character. Have her indebted to the Hutts or something, give her some astronomical loans she’s struggling to pay off, meaning everything they can spare just gets funneled directly into that debt so they have very little money or means to escape to a better life. What that sets up is Shmi being given the agency and genuine choice of either sending Anakin to be a Jedi because she wants him to have a better life, or keeping him there to help her work off the debt. The control chip won’t be keeping them tethered to that location and it keeps both Amidala and Qui-Gon from being complacent in leaving Shmi to be a slave.

If you wanted for Shmi and Anakin to be slaves, but wanted to solve some of the moral quandaries and give all of the characters more active roles in driving the story (and not just tell the audience “These are the circumstances, the Jedi can’t get involved with local matters, their hands are tied”) what you could have done was have Obi-Wan join Qui-Gon and Amidala on their trip instead of Jar Jar. Shmi explains the circumstances keeping them slaves, Obi-Wan can see Qui-Gon leaning towards doing something to help them, but because he’s more inclined towards following the rules than Qui-Gon is, Kenobi tells them honestly that they don’t have enough people to fight for the freedom of the slaves, and they’re already short on funds and already on a mission trying to save people on Naboo.

Kenobi’s also the one to also bring up a logical part of the Jedi Code: instead of saying they can’t interfere with local politics, he points out an obvious rule they would have in saying “The Jedi aren’t allowed to buy slaves either,” because yeah obviously the Jedi wouldn’t be allowed to do that. Even if that’s the easiest way to free somebody, the Jedi can’t do anything that would compromise other people’s faith in them, because yeah maybe you freed that person, but now that person either has to remain on the planet where that practice still exists and they could easily end up there again once you leave, OR you as the Jedi have to take them with you and hmmmmmmm seems pretty suspicious if you ask me, sounds like you just bought yourself your own slave.

Even dropping that person on a safe planet isn’t a great option because they would likely have no understanding of or foundation on that planet, and they especially wouldn’t have a support network of any kind. How much money, time, and resources do you have to devote to setting them up for success, now that you’ve gotten them out of a life of bondage? Completely uprooting yourself and starting from nothing in a completely new country alone is bad enough— Imagine an entirely separate planet. The alternative is obviously keeping that person with you and placing them under your own care and protection, but that’s exactly what makes you look like you bought a person to begin with and now we’re back to square one.

But, Amidala is there, and she’s a queen. She would likely have oodles of money at her disposal. Ignore the whole “Republic credits don’t spend out here” and say SHE offers to buy both Anakin and Shmi’s freedom, extending the offer by saying Anakin could train at the temple and Shmi could become a ladies maid or a consultant to the queen on Outer Rim territories, something Amidala even says she’s not familiar with. Both of them would be taken care of, Shmi would have a support network and a means of income and the freedom to leave at any time if she wished, nothing wrong with that.

In the end, however it happens, Shmi could be freed from being a slave (since that happens between this movie and Attack of the Clones anyway), but she makes the choice for herself to decline Amidala’s offer. Tatooine, though a harsh planet, is still her home and all she’s ever known. Being taken out of that environment and thrust into one of courtly nobility isn’t one a lot of people would be able to adapt to. Amidala finds a way to maintain communication so if there’s ever any trouble, Shmi has a contact who cares about her wellbeing, and she chooses for herself to remain behind and let Anakin go because that’s what is best for him. The characters are the ones making choices with their own objectives and reasonable enough justification for what they do instead of the circumstances moving them around.

There’s plenty of other ways the story would change by giving them those more active roles and choices. Obi-Wan and Anakin and Qui-Gon would all obviously have more of a relationship to build off of if they’re all there together, which will make Qui-Gon’s death more meaningful for the both of them and will introduce history that will carry over into Attack of the Clones whenever Anakin thinks Shmi might be in trouble. Amidala would have a more grounded interest and stronger connection to Shmi herself, and Anakin’s frustration with Obi-Wan concerning the rule about one’s personal attachments creates more effective interpersonal conflict when Anakin argues that she’s in danger. “Master, if you had the chance to prevent Qui-Gon’s death— If you’d known ahead of time that it would happen— Wouldn’t you have done whatever you could to stop it?”

If you cut down Act I enough (because you don’t really need the entire underwater sequence, Jar Jar was in exile up on land and you could have just had him lead them to the palace, which would have given us the chance to see the invasion affecting the citizens and common folk), Tatooine could have been the majority of Act I with the race being the climax. Make the Separatists more of an enemy force that’s actually intimidating and isn’t just mad about taxation of trade routes. Say they’ve been doing their own thing independent of the Republic for some time and don’t care about the legality of what they’re doing and have the Jedi discover the droid armies and the plot to take over Naboo because it’s a pacifist planet rich in whatever resources the Separatists want to take for themselves.

Cut out the Gungans and the underwater sequence and have whoever Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan meet on land take them to the Theed palace as a navigator directly. I don’t care for Jar Jar’s character and he doesn’t add anything to the film besides (weak) comic relief and a connection to the Gungan army at the end, which can easily be altered if you give Ahmed Best a better character just as himself, leading the Jedi through the forest to Theed. On the way there we see the recent havoc wreaked by the droid army and the effects the invasion is having on the people of Naboo, making the war feel a lot more real and immediate. Make Best’s people like the people of Rohan in Lord of the Rings who have survived as independent nomads and mounted woodland riders for centuries, not given as much support by the city-states and the capital but otherwise left to their own devices (setting them up to become the main cavalry/fighters at the end). They don’t have to be enemies of Theed, but they're not on great terms. They're the first people we see affected by the war, the destruction a lot more down to earth, showing us the severity of the Separatist’s actions and giving us a legitimate sense of danger and despair.

The three of them make it to Theed and manage to save the queen and her entourage. Amidala is introduced desperately trying to make contact with Palpatine in the Senate, the circumstances conveyed much more urgently than before, and she tells the Jedi that she’d been trying to contact them before the invasion even started. In the midst of the fighting Amidala makes a pointed effort to save Best’s character, the two of them making a connection as they move and showing both him and the audience that the queen does care about what happens to people who live beyond the city and palace walls. Qui-Gon convinces Amidala that they need to get her to Coruscant to plead their case on behalf of her people to the Senate. Amidala pleads for Best’s character to call upon the peoples living in the woods and to tell them that the capital city has been invaded and taken over too but that help is on the way. Amidala may be a pacifist, but this invasion shows her that her ideology won’t save her people because it doesn’t matter to the invaders whether you’ve done anything to “deserve” that oppression or not. Those who don’t live by the sword can still die by them.

If the Senate is too far removed from their corner of the galaxy to see that innocent people are being slaughtered and that the Separatists have waged a war that has isolated Naboo by severing their communications network, then she’s going to plead their case by taking it directly to Coruscant herself. Who’s to say theirs is the first planet the Separatists have done this to? What other occupations might they be unaware of?

The ship is still damaged upon their escape, forcing them to make an emergency landing on Tatooine. Amidala has some money with her, but her accounts have been frozen by the Separatists and she won’t be able to acquire more unless they manage to save Naboo and she’s restored as queen. The Jedi also have some money with them, but even together it’s not enough to buy the hyperdrive piece.

In this timeline we go with Kenobi being present with Qui-Gon and Padmé (still disguising herself as a handmaiden, Qui-Gon having a hunch as to who she is though Kenobi doesn’t know) and we cut out Watto and change the slavery circumstances to the Skywalkers being impoverished and indebted instead. City boy Kenobi, unfamiliar with the terrain or locals, accidentally bumps into whoever it is who tries to start a fight and Anakin jumps in and mediates for them. Qui-Gon thanks him and Anakin points out there’s a storm coming and takes them all back to his and his mom’s place, despite Kenobi’s protests that the mission takes precedence and the ‘queen’ has only her personal guard at the moment, they really should be finding the parts and getting back to the ship.

Over dinner the group discusses their prospects. Anakin was already planning to race in the Boonta Eve Classic to put the prize money towards finally paying off his mother’s debt. He and Shmi exchange a look, and he decides he wants to help them out of the goodness of his heart or whatever and in exchange for part of the money, Qui-Gon also offers him the chance to become a Jedi because he senses there’s something different about this kid. Kenobi protests, citing the fact the boy’s too old and they don’t have a solid reason to think he’s sensitive to the Force (regardless of what Shmi tells them about the circumstances of his birth). Have him be the skeptic providing the opinion the council would give, giving the conflict that will spur conversation between himself and Qui-Gon in order to provide exposition for the audience and prompt tension between himself and Anakin that’ll evolve as their relationship and reliance on one another in this movie progresses.

Now.

The consequence of Kenobi being present for all of this is that his and Anakin’s and Qui-Gon’s relationships are given focus and development, but it also means the ship is left without a Jedi guard.

Now let’s say Darth Maul finds the ship sooner while the main characters are occupied: Maul kidnaps Sabé, kills the rest of the guard, destroys the ship, and then he leaves. Qui-Gon, Kenobi, and Padmé hear what happens from R2, the only one who survives. Cut out whatever extraneous Watto junk happens and have this be what ups the stakes for the race because now they end up needing all of the winnings to buy a whole ship, not just to get a part. Amidala does the whole handmaiden reveal here and they realize that buys them a little time since Sabé signing the treaty will mean nothing when it comes out that she wasn’t actually the queen, but that will only be a possibility if they can provide Coruscant with further evidence of the Separatists’ plot and subjugation of the people.

Kenobi by now has figured out that the disturbance he’s been feeling in the force must have been the dark warrior who tracked their ship and stole the ‘queen,’ R2’s security footage getting them a good look of Maul. Kenobi and Qui-Gon confer and realize that if this guy is a Sith Lord, they HAVE to get back to Naboo to stop him at any cost. If he’s been the real power behind the Separatists this whole time, then losing Naboo to their control must be part of a larger scheme that will lead the Republic to war.

Now it comes back down to Anakin and Shmi. Either Anakin doesn’t want to give them the rest of the money, having wanted to provide for his mom too, and Shmi has to reassure him that she’ll be fine before he agrees to still participate in the race and give them the money, or Anakin’s unaware of the change in circumstances at all and Shmi’s the one to say they can have all of the winnings provided Qui-Gon gives her his word that Anakin will be guaranteed a better life being trained as a Jedi. Either way, Shmi’s the one in control of her decision to let Anakin go while she chooses to remain behind. Despite Amidala’s offer for Shmi to just come with them as part of her court or entourage, Shmi declines, knowing Anakin needs a clean break in order to dedicate himself to this new life and that her place was still there on Tatooine, and the Skywalkers are able to part ways with Anakin still missing his mom.

During the whole Tatooine sequence Kenobi has his doubts about Anakin, but during the race we see Anakin finally do some incredible feat that defies all logic, bringing down a rockslide to his advantage or controlling a dust storm or standing out on the bow of his speeder holding the now-damaged, motley assembly together with the invisible hold of the Force itself as he crosses the finish line. There needs to be a clear show of something unexplainable for both the audience and the other characters to see (Kenobi especially) that convinces us this kid has an exceptional command over the Force even untrained, not just that he’s a child prodigy when it comes to racing and mechanical ingenuity. Kenobi needs to be convinced that taking the kid is a good idea here because it provides the basis for their relationship moving forward and it gives ample reason for Anakin to be included in all of the further peril without any of the responsible characters logically being worried for his safety. (As it is in the movies, we never actually see Anakin do enough to warrant being considered “the Chosen One” since nothing he does isn’t something other trained experts of that skill could feasibly do. He needs to be visibly, uniquely powerful even for a Force-user.)

After the race they have to scramble to get transportation and head back to Naboo. Keep their communications interrupted so they can’t contact the Jedi council back on Coruscant to tell them about the invasion, the handmaiden switch, OR Anakin possibly being the Chosen One.

In this interim we see Maul on his ship discussing his success with Sidious over a holocall, along with the next steps of the plan. Sabé is locked in a holding cell, unbeknownst to Maul acting as a spy and gathering information, reading his lips and figuring out what conversation is being had though she can’t hear the voice of the person in the hood (because logically she’d be able to deduce that it’s Palpatine on the other end of the call). It’s obvious this mysterious agent doesn’t know she’s one of the handmaidens because otherwise she suspects she’d be dead, and it’s clear they need ‘the queen’ alive for something. Depending on how you want to play the scene and the characters, she could either remain stoically silent after he’s done talking to Sidious, taking everything in and observing serenely while environmental storytelling gives us the clues and info she’s picking up on, or Maul could monologue/antagonize her, or she could try to negotiate with him under the guise of the queen, subtly trying to figure out his motives, or she could just outright question him, reasoning that he’s not going to do anything to her since she’s needed alive (to which Maul could refuse to give up anything and instead easily threaten her once he decides she’s gotten too comfortable, maybe even giving us some visual foreshadowing/parallels to Anakin in Revenge of the Sith by using the Force to hold her by the throat and remind her that she need only arrive to Naboo alive, not unscathed.).

Have the Theed city battle happen as Act II, show more of the Separatists’ effect on the people they’re subjugating, and have Anakin involved on the ground instead of in the gunship. He ends up seeing/being involved in the Duel of the Fates, exhibiting an impressive display of the Force and throwing up a force field that blocks what would have been a fatal hit from Maul against the two Jedi. Anakin uses the Force to fling Darth Maul back, though it’s not enough to get him off his feet. Maul’s distracted for just a moment as his boots gain traction and he skids to a halt, locking eyes with the kid before he uses the Force to throw Anakin into the path of danger as Qui-Gon approaches. Obi-Wan diverts course to save Anakin and gets him out of the way, telling him to stay back as Maul continues to fight Qui-Gon. Anakin ends up separated when Obi-Wan jams the control for the force field corridor, cutting him off from the fight as Kenobi and Qui-Gon back Maul towards the reactor shaft together.

Anakin surveys the hangar and starts to climb up to the access catwalks overhead, trying to get to the Jedi to help, but as he finally reaches a position overlooking the room he realizes he’s too late. Darth Maul hits Qui-Gon and stabs him through the chest as Kenobi screams. This time however, Kenobi isn’t fast enough in the aftermath to do anything beyond wounding Maul, and when Maul is nearly hit by Anakin doing the equivalent of throwing a ship at him, he escapes.

Kenobi’s and Anakin’s shared story with Qui-Gon comes to a close as Qui-Gon dies and Kenobi tells Anakin he’ll apprentice him instead, and that he has strong evidence for the council that Anakin is the Chosen One. Cut back to Sabé relaying to Amidala through covert means that the dark warrior isn’t acting alone; he’s taking orders from somebody he calls Master, and even if he is killed, it’s likely he’s not the only one directing the war from the shadows. Have the Separatists win the battle and Naboo seemingly come under their control, the treaty signed by Sabé (the Separatists still unaware she’s a decoy).

Maul makes a break for it to head back to Coruscant, for the moment incapacitated and in no condition to fight Kenobi and Anakin together. Kenobi may be alive, but Maul’s mission to make sure the Separatists took Naboo and that the queen signed the treaty is complete, and he tells Sidious over a holocall that there’s a child with Kenobi who is strong in the Force and could be a threat to them…. Unless he can be turned to the dark side.

Kenobi and Anakin sneak around and meet up with Amidala and her remaining entourage and tell her that she has to come back to Coruscant with them because only her presence there while Sabé remains behind (never leaving the Separatists’ watch) will be what shows the Senate that the treaty is void. They scheme to go back to Coruscant with the still-undiscovered true queen; Amidala uses the handmaidens to disperse the message and ready an ambush with the help of Ahmed Best’s character and countrymen, telling those who remain behind not to fight back yet but to comply with the Separatists until she can provide the Senate with the proof of the truth.

The three of them with Amidala’s retinue return in stealth to Coruscant. Keep Amidala from telling Palpatine anything because maybe he was just as complacent as the rest of the senators who didn’t believe her when she voiced concerns of the Separatists setting up an invasion of the planet prior to the movie. Kenobi enlists the help of the council members, telling them what truly happened and that a Sith is behind the Separatists’ machinations, and they also provide video footage of the carnage they saw levied against the people of Theed. The council prompts Senator Organa to bring up the Naboo treaty during the Senate session. The Senate pulls up a holovid conference call with the Separatists and remaining Naboo politicians, Sabé among them, the Separatists showing their “proof” of being able to reach a “peaceful accord.”

And THEN Padmé Amidala steps forward in the Senate to reveal her true identity and the plot the Separatists had the whole time forcing who they thought was the queen to sign the treaty under extreme duress while their people died in the streets and countryside. There’s a collective gasp as her witnesses, including Obi-Wan, come forward with evidence to the veracity of that statement, and the Senate erupts in an uproar as the Separatists flounder on the call, having been caught in the act in front of an audience of thousands.

The holocall is cut short as we the audience see the handmaidens, the remaining guards, and Ahmed Best’s character and his people back on Naboo spring the ambush on the Separatists in the palace, and we see the tide change as the people of Naboo fight back together. Valorum tries to keep order but the longer he goes without taking decisive action the worse he starts to look, and Palpatine quickly steps in to propose a vote of no confidence against him— If Valorum isn’t willing to send arms and support to a pacifist planet clearly under military attack right now, what’s to say he’ll ever do it for anybody else there among them? At what point is it considered an act of war against the Republic, if not now? The people of the Senate begin to concur and Republic forces quickly rally support for Naboo, senators from neighboring planets ordering their fleets to converge on Naboo to lend aid and route the fleeing Separatists as an emergency meeting is called to force Chancellor Valorum to step down.

(Palpatine meanwhile is absolutely seething behind his fake shock and horror, and as soon as he’s able to reconvene out of the Senate chamber he comms Darth Maul like “YOU ABSOLUTE #!$%*&@ IDIOT YOU GOT THE WRONG GIRL”)

Maul’s coming to several conclusions at once with a metric ton of dread flash-fried by anger and they both know they can’t do anything to Amidala OR the politicians back home on Naboo while all eyes are turned that way, BUT Maul realizes that this was all Kenobi’s fault and— probably knowing Palpatine's going to wring his neck if he ever gets his hands on him— he goes rogue in order to get his revenge against Kenobi and try to preserve his standing with his master. The climax of Act III comes down to a much more publicly visible and hard-hitting fight between Darth Maul and Kenobi before Anakin (who’s been with Obi-Wan the whole time and was supposed to be in hiding) uses the Force again to shield Obi-Wan right as it looks like Darth Maul is about to strike the killing blow. Maul’s saber bounces off the shield and in shock he turns to see Anakin, who he recognizes as the kid from the Theed palace who thwarted him then too. Obi-Wan shouts “No!” as Maul charges, and Anakin scrambles away and throws up a shield in front of himself that Maul strikes once, twice, a third time before it shatters, each side of the Force colliding, causing an explosive blast that takes out half of the tower floor with it and renders Anakin unconscious.

Just as Maul rears back to kill Anakin, his saber meets that of Obi-Wan’s, and Obi-Wan pushes him back, determined and revitalized.

The fight ends dramatically on top of one of the skywalks of Coruscant, Jedi and Sith locked in battle as word quickly starts to travel and people start racing up to the tower. Obi-Wan succeeds in cutting Maul’s saber apart before ultimately stabbing him just as Maul had done to Qui-Gon, sending him off the overbridge to his death.

Naboo is shown winning against the invasion thanks to help from the Republic, and the people of Theed and the surrounding forests are saved. Ahmed Best’s character and Sabé are both hailed as victors, the two of them standing united with their people together after a successful ambush and reclamation of Naboo. Kenobi’s a veritable hero, receiving praise from both politicians and Jedi for discovering and eliminating the Sith. The Jedi council manages to frame Maul’s presence as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan “mission” this whole time, and Kenobi’s valor and strategy award him the rank of Knight. The council is still wary of Anakin, but he’s been shown to have had a surprising awareness and command of the Force, and if he’s capable of that without training, they can’t let him continue to live as a civilian with that amount of power unchecked, agreeing that the boy needs supervision, guidance, and accountability. It doesn’t help that Obi-Wan’s determined to keep Anakin as his Padawan now, especially since training him was Qui-Gon’s dying wish.

Sidious manages to frame Maul for the loss of Naboo to the Separatists, telling them that he has been “dealt with.” Though Darth Maul is defeated and the public’s faith in the Jedi remains intact, the Jedi council is deeply troubled by the apparent return of the Sith, and they confer with Kenobi, Anakin, Sabé and Amidala (who are unfortunately accompanied by Senator Palpatine) about what knowledge they have, knowing they need to keep word of a potential second Sith under wraps for the public’s well-being and peace of mind. The fact the Separatists have been revealed to have massive covert operations taking over smaller planets with the aid of droid armies for a while now is shocking enough as it is; they can’t afford widespread panic over the possibility of this being orchestrated by a Sith, let alone more than one.

The result of those decisions, as well as the very public fight Kenobi had with Maul, means that the Jedi are now inextricably bound to serve in the war, still unsure of how they couldn’t have sensed the Sith to begin with, and it sets up Kenobi to wonder if perhaps the Jedi involvement in the war and their deaths at the end of it are his fault for being too rash and ready to fight. It’ll drive his character to mature and become more of a negotiator, and try to keep Anakin from choosing to act without thinking moving forward. Though both Kenobi and Amidala have saved people in this movie, it was done through actions that forced them to compromise their anti-war ideologies, and those irreversible actions will directly lead people who were once pacifists and protectors into war.

That plotline forces the characters together more organically and still covers the same amount of ground and achieves the same result, but utilizes the characters better and creates more of a sense of urgency than before. The consequence of these changes is that Palpatine will later ascend as Supreme Chancellor with sympathy from a majority of the Senate, meaning the Grand Army of the Republic is formed between this movie and the next, setting up Attack of the Clones to be happening in the midst of the war. Sidious has contingency plans upon contingency plans; he still has Count Dooku in his back pocket, still has the Separatists on his side, and now he has his sights set on the young prodigy from Tatooine who seems verrrrrryy interesting to him. He can misdirect the Jedi’s suspicions of Sith towards Dooku and General Grievous, should they end up being discovered, still keeping all eyes off of himself. Palpatine also has a much stronger motivation to assassinate Amidala after this since she’s proven to be more capable than he realized and isn’t just a political pawn he can manipulate. She’s unpredictable, and she needs to be eliminated.

[ivfrankenstein]

DEATH CHERISHES YOU | nuada silverlance x fem!reader;

the bloodstains on the stairs that had brought him here could be compared to breadcrumbs. step by step he was moving away from the original destination, consciously choosing to approach a new one. this one may not have been such an urgent matter for the prince, but another opportunity might not present itself for a long time to come.

farther on, the traces went away from the stairs and into the depths of the hall, from where a familiar dripping sound reached his ears. even at a distance it was effortless for nuada to hear all the breaths in and out of the person in there, so anyway, by the time his presence was noticed and all sounds suddenly stopped, it was definitely too late.

“you are easy to find, even when you're hiding.” he spoke first and purposely omitted the greeting, “shouldn't someone be watching you?”

“do they have to?” the voice from the darkness answered him with a question, “all my caretakers are busy at the moment. why don't you come visit me later?”

he stepped unobstructed around one of the columns on his right side and could now see the one talking to him from the back. it would be a pretty vulnerable position for another even without a bleeding wound on her arm. but he had more than once been able to see that she was not much bothered by this dangerous proximity. y/n was judged to be reckless and at times just a less skilled member of the team, which, nuada could tell, was hardly the truth.

“with seven nannies the child still loses an eye. are you familiar with that saying?”

“i am.”

it was very polite of her to answer him first, and only then to immediately clamp the end of the cloth with her teeth to tear it in two. the injury was deep enough that blood trickled from her hand to the floor, but y/n handled it with a dexterity that a less skilled member of the team could only envy.

“it's all a total waste of your blood.” he remarked, watching the small puddle below where she was sitting. there was all sorts of junk scattered everywhere. and the smell… it alone could suffocate a human victim.

“that troll has eaten over a dozen teenagers, in case you're wondering.” she forced herself to turn around and look at the expression on his face only to see nothing but a slightly raised eyebrow.

“one more ogre, one less.” he also gave her a nonchalant shrug, “there's not enough of you to catch them all anyway.”

“i’m not surprised you're more than okay with that information.” she said to his face before turning away again, continued to bandaging her arm and willfully badly playing the part where she wasn't dying to know what he was up to, “it just proves that an ogre as the only reason would hardly have caught your attention. so in that case, what brought the prince here?”

“the same as you.” it didn't cost him anything to tell her the truth, knowing there was probably nothing she could do about it, “it took me a lot of time and resources to find anything about this place myself.” except that what she wanted to get from him was different from what he'd come to share, “you did a great job, honestly. but it's for sure not the one that impresses me the most.”

it lasted less than a couple seconds, the way she stopped moving altogether, as if one single hint from him had paralyzed her to the bone. it was clear that the slightest interest shown in her ability would be met with the utmost wariness, which proved she was many things, but certainly not reckless.

“do me a favour, given my situation, and instead tell me if i should start worrying or not? it'll take me a while to remember where i left the gun.”

“oh, a gun, how uncivilised,” he said in a bored tone, “you have more delicate weapons with you. but i doubt you'll resort to any of them.”

“and why is that?” she asked, trying to stay focused, “i kept you from dying once because it was fair to your people. but for the second time, i hope your sister will forgive me for my non-interference.” her last words came out floating in a trembling voice. she was for now done with the bandage and turned to his side, with her hand clasped to her chest.

she seemed kind of particularly susceptible right now, and his years of being a corruptor suggested this might be a good moment to get close to her. but nuada's choice was to stay where he stood. from the beginning he was carrying this belief that y/n would want to know more without him seducing her into it. that's why he came. so he could see it for himself.

“by letting me live, you risked the fate of mankind by putting the interests of our race first. it's only fair for me not to fight you.”

“what a noble act. i know a few people for whom to take that chance would be enough to keep them happy for the rest of their lives.”

it might have seemed like an unnecessarily rude response, but it was clear to both of them that she was simply using the language of facts.

“and i will put my sister's name on that list with my own hand.” he confirmed it, “but as we've seen, that's not an acceptable outcome for you.” he paused to allow her to dispute it, but y/n only raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, willing to hear his explanation, “i'm going to guess that you've thought about the possible consequences of this decision of yours so often that you're now equally afraid of it and eager to discover it. you,” he pointed at her with an open palm, “already have so much of me in your thoughts that it's easier to let me go just to finally see.”

for a few seconds they looked silently into each other's eyes, almost like examining that gaze for recognition.

“if so,” then, as nuada assumed she would, y/n found an answer way too quick for someone for whom what she'd heard would be new, “i think it won't sound too presumptuous that to come to those conclusions you must have thought a lot of me yourself.”

the next thing the prince heard was his own laughter. how she succeeded in making a fool of him so easily by saying it caused him to laugh about it absolutely sincerely. it was so human, he couldn't even be prepared for it.

“that was a dirty trick.” she admitted before he could, “in my defense, it's getting hard to keep my attention, so..” she reached for the walkie-talkie fixed to her belt, but before she pressed it, she looked at the prince once more, “if you'll excuse me.”

“please.” nuada only said.

“death jr. to red.” y/n switched, bringing the radio to her lips, “death jr. to red. we have a royal guest in the neighborhood. over.”

he smirked and nodded in understanding, “as a good team member should.”

y/n said nothing more and just watched him escaping casually into the darkness again. from there he added, “i hope by the next time when we get a chance to finish our conversation, you don't have so much blood on you, my dear. although i must say that red suits you well.”

—gif: @amatesura 📿 also, english not my first language. so, i beg you pardon.

[ccieatchildren]

TW: Implied Noncon

Whumpee was awoken by a sharp shift in the bed. Over their captivity, they had become hyper aware of the body sleeping next to them, stirring whenever he tossed and turned under the covers. Steadying their breathing, Whumpee focused on each move and sound he made, trying to determine what he was doing.

The sheets ruffled and then there was no more drastic movement. Air brushed against their back, the spot next to them cold with the open covers. Whumpee covertly looked to their left to see where he had gone, only to be surprised to find him still on the bed.

Whumper sat on the edge of the mattress, breathing heavily. His body shook slightly and his fingers twitched in a rhythmic motion.

One, two, three.

Four, five, six.

Seven, eight, nine.

As if he was counting the seconds.

They continued to analyze his body language, trying to ascertain whether he was a threat in this state. His shoulders were hunched, they could hear him mumble under his breath, and he seemed distracted. All things to be wary of, but no immediate action. They watched until Whumper’s hand stilled.

“I can feel you staring.”

Whumpee quickly turned back around and resumed pretending to be asleep, hoping he would think it was his imagination and not pester them.

However, his tired, gruff voice spoke up once more. “Prašau Whumpee, you have worked in the field; if you can’t tell that someone is watching you, you are dead.” He sighed. “Miegok. Go back to sleep.” Whumper stood up, legs faintly shaking, turning to walk around the bed to the door, “I’m going out,” there was a waver in his voice, “I’ll be back later.”

Whumpee’s mind raced. They could not let him leave. Despite the ease it brought it, Whumpee could not ignore the blood dripping off him. The rips in his clothes and the scratches on his skin. They knew intimately what it was like to be the object of his ire and would not wish it on another soul.

Before they could even process what their brain decided to do, Whumpee lashed out and grabbed his hand.

Whumper startled, ripping his arm out of their grasp, a flash of fear in his eyes, before he managed to smooth it out.

“W-wait!” Instinct tells them to drop it. Let him leave and vent his anger out on someone else. Save themself the trouble and pain. But they do not, a doomed mouse asking the snake for mercy, reaching out again instead.

“Why don’t you… stay here, with m- me, instead?”

A blank stare is all they are met with. He says nothing, searching them for something they don’t know. Whumpee’s lips quiver as they strain to stretch them out into a pleasant smile. They’re not quite sure they make it.

“Are you stupid?”

It is not a response they expected, but it does make them start to regret their decision. Whumpee curls back into themself in response.

Seriously! What was the goal with that? What was I planning to do?

A voice in their head— their survival instinct— berates them for their stupidity. But another speaks over it.

What if he kills someone? I know I can take it. Maybe I could even calm him down peacefully.

‘Calm him down peacefully.’ Like that’s my job?! Let him suffer. Let me get some sleep while I can.

Diverting their gaze, Whumpee listens to their arguments, the angel and devil on their shoulders. One looking out for themself, honestly the smarter option, while the other parroting ingrained selflessness, perhaps the moral option.

They should have let him be. Whumper would do what he wanted no matter their opinion. Why trouble themself with the pain of interference.

But what if he actually listened for once? He had proven time and time again to be weak to them— when it came to other people— why not test the theory again.

The incessant arguing in Whumpee’s head ceases when he talks once more.

“What? Is the hero finally having second thoughts; not able to play the bystander anymore?”

An unbidden memory of looking at absurd trolley problems with Bestie pushes to the forefront of Whumpee’s mind. Choosing ludicrous option after ludicrous option, giggling at the scenarios the poor stick figures found themselves in. If only things could be that simple now.

He grabbed their cheeks, forcing them to face him. “I asked you a question.” Their situation slaps back into focus, and Whumpee stutters to give a response.

His voice seemed more curious and surprised than angry, so Whumpee tried to give him a more natural answer. “… No…” Honesty always went far with him. “I just…” They tentatively place a hand on his face and Whumpee instantly softens. A good sign. “You have me now. You don’t need to leave anymore.”

He doesn’t respond, only nuzzling into their hand further, but they can feel him ponder her words. They needed to fully entice Whumper into staying.

“Lie down with me. Let me make you feel better.” He looks at them confused, but not disinterested. No going back now.

Whumpee coaxes his head into their lap, repressing the urge to tremble at his proximity. He complies, curling into them like a cat. Taking a deep breath, Whumpee lets out their fears and misgivings about the situation before continuing. Their quivering fingers part his hair, threading through the dark locks.

They’ve rarely touched them before, only having yanked the tresses to inflict a margin of the same pain he’s given them, panic driving them on despite any potential consequences. Yet, this stress is different. As they run their hand through the soft strands, resentment starts to build in the place of their anxiety.

The intimacy is a spark to the meager kindling of their frustration.

However, Whumper is content, practically purring at their ministrations. Their actions have had the desired effect, calming the man from whatever torment ailed him.

They remain there, one serene with their touch, the other restless at his affection, for a while, until Whumper hesitantly breaks the tranquility.

“I love you…”

It was one of the few times he said it without any underlying malice or lust, and each time it makes their stomach clench. The emotion, the context, the… everything behind those three little words made them hate him more each time.

They just didn’t want to be here anymore.

“I love you so much.” The words tumble out of him in a rush, like he’s worried that they don’t believe him. “I promise I love you. I’m sorry… for not- I- I can’t- You’re-” he stumbles over his words, a rare look of guilt on his face, “I’m sorry for not letting you go.” Whumpee’s hand stilled.

“But, I- I just can’t. You have to understand. It’s just too late.” Now he feels ashamed? “I should have never kept you for so long, I should have never let you leave the basement, I should have never taken you in the first place.” Now he regrets it? “But now, I’ve condemned us both.” They nearly miss his next sentence.

“You made me think I could make something sweet.”

He quiets down once again, face scrunched in thought, and the time passes like honey dripping between their fingers. The silence stretches for what could have been hours, minutes, or seconds. They resume petting him; the repetitive action agitates them. Finally, his face smooths and he pipes up again.

“But, it’ll be okay. We’ll be a real family… You’ll get used to this… I’ll get used to this.”

It’s quiet once more, and Whumpee refuses to speak or even acknowledge what he has said. Their hand pauses once more in disbelief. Closing their eyes and desperately struggling not to scream, rage burns its way up their throat.

“I hope you can forgive me.”

Forgiveness? How could they even forgive someone like him, after all he’s done to them?

It wasn’t fair. They were supposed to be in their apartment, snuggled up in blankets and watching snow through the window. Or sipping hot cocoa with Bestie as they watched corny romcoms. They were supposed to be refusing Caretaker’s invitation to join them on a too early morning run. And staying way too late on overtime combing through paperwork.

Not this.

Right as their fury was to peak, as their indignation was to boil over, it all abandoned Whumpee in a moment, hand restarting its rhythmic motions in his hair.

They were stuck here now, and there was no changing that.

“Does it even matter if I do?”

Whumper never responded.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Reader going from being Gojo's lover to being his worst enemy part l

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reder (18+)

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: You were always the perfect girlfriend for Satoru Gojo: innocent, quiet and weak. Until something inside you snapped. Until you decided you don't want to be weak anymore. Until you realized that Satoru Gojo isn't your lover, but your enemy...

Warnings: big ass tw for anyone who isn't into dark reader, smut in Geto's part (you will be warned in the fic), reader going absolutely crazy, cheating, language, violence, Gojo is a bit of a jerk in this, couldn't bring myself to proofread so excuse spelling mistakes

Notes: I know you guys wanted this in one part but honestly, I've been so depressed these last weeks that I simply wasn't able to write that much. I thought one part is better than nothing though and I hope I'll be able to post part ll within the next days 🤍 If you don't mind, let me know what you think, your support means so much!

“(y/n), are you alright?”

“There’s absolutely no reason to go this hard on her, jerk.”

You stare into the blue sky above, hating yourself for the way your eyes start to sting in tears, for how weak you are. No, not again. Don’t cry in front of all of them because of something so minor. But no, this isn’t something minor.

He beat you again.

“If you want to get better than rank 4, you have to try harder, babe”, your boyfriend jeers at you.

How many times did he say that already? You lost count a long time ago. It’s a miracle that you’re still alive, given the fact that Gojo Satoru seems to lose his patience with you more and more.

No wonder. After all, you are his girlfriend. How is it even possible for the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of this time to have a girl of rank 4? You’ve been stuck with your poor abilities since joining jujutsu high, only able to sneak into training because your parents are friends of the Gojo clan.

It shouldn’t surprise you. Your life has always been like this: useless and puny. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you train, you’ll never be as good as Satoru, Suguru and Shoko. You are nothing more than their shadow, doomed to watch them from the side-lines.

“Hey, are you alright, (y/n)? That looked pretty rough”, Suguru interferes gently while helping you to get up on your wobbly legs.

“You can at least say sorry, y’know? There was absolutely no reason to beat her this hard when she’s already down”, Shoko barks towards your boyfriend.

“Oh don’t worry babe, there isn’t enough space for two legends in this relationship anyway”, Satoru jokes while wrapping his arm around your clearly bruised shoulder tightly.

Even though all you want to do is cry and hide, you force a smile onto your lips. Yes, this is what you always do. Staying by his side, looking pretty and innocent while smiling kindly. Maybe this is your purpose in life, maybe this is everything you could ask for. Many girls are getting blue over the fact that Satoru is your boyfriend. You aren’t in the position to ask for more power, for the strength to stand up for yourself. So many people would kill for a life like yours.

You should be thankful.

Right?

…Right?

-the mission-

“I’m here to save you again, (y/n)! Hey, are you cryin’?”

You hate the way hot tears stream down your face, body too weak to fight against the debris that buried you.

“If I was crying, would you console me? I’d definitely like that”, you hear Mei Mei purr from the other side

“Oh you wouldn’t cry Mei. You’re strong.”

“Hey, how dare you to talk about (y/n) like that!?”, Utahime cries out.

Your mind goes blank, body sinking into the dirt.

“Oh, you wouldn’t cry Mei. You’re strong.”

Those words. Those oh so cruel words repeat themselves over and over in your mind. He surely didn’t mean it like that, didn’t wanted to hurt you. After all, Satoru just wants to look out for you, he’s always there to help you out. His words shouldn’t hit you with full force, you shouldn’t feel this burning inside your chest, your hands shouldn’t start trembling.

You let out the shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, eyes staring into distance. But they do and force a stinging feeling up from deep within along with one single thought.

You have enough.

Enough of smiling kindly all the time. Enough of letting others push you around and pick on you. Enough of even Satoru making fun of you. Enough of being nothing but his innocent girlfriend to the world. Enough of all the fighting, all the hiding.

For the first time in forever, you don’t force a smile onto your lips but furrow your eyebrows instead. You are…more than that.

“Don’t listen to that guy…”, you hear Utahime mumble next to you while she frees your body.

As if in trance, you follow her back up, the new feeling you just discovered tickling underneath your skin.

��She knows I didn’t mean it like that. Right baby?”

But instead of hearing the usual low “yes” coming from your lips immediately, you just stand there and stare at him before turning on your heels and leaving.

Satoru’s eyes widen. You. Leaving him standing in the rain?

“Did you hear me say something to you, babe?”, he shouts after you.

You don’t even hear him anymore, blood rushing through your ears. No more excuses, no more playing the victim, the lover. Your hands are still clenched into tight fist while you leave without turning your head.

That’s enough.

“I’m…more than that”, you mumble to yourself while staring at your naked reflection in the bathroom mirror.

You just need to work even harder, train yourself even better, change your mindset. No, you aren’t only Satoru Gojo’s girlfriend. You are powerful as well, you can feel it tickling in your fingertips.

So you worked your ass off in silence. Trained when nobody was watching, read countless books, started to introduce you to yourself.

“Beat you again!”, Satoru announces proudly while you let him throw your body into the air.

But something inside you stops you from letting all that progress show on the surface. You force the usual small smile onto your lips, let your boyfriend treat you like the dirt underneath his shoes. Over and over, without anybody noticing that something has changed.

No, you aren’t the little (y/n) they all know anymore. You are so much better than that, so much stronger than what they see in you.

Your fingers dig into the sides of the sink until it bursts under your lilac touch. Fuck this whole jujutsu high, fuck the way they all smile down at you. Fuck the way Satoru sees you as nothing but his personal toy. A maniac grin creeps up your face, violent laughter shaking your body in the middle of the night while you stare into your own stone-cold eyes.

This ends right here and now. And you will show them when the time is right.

-next week-

Will surprise Suguru this evening for his birthday. Try not to get killed while I’m gone. Love ya &lt;3

You huff to yourself, the arrogance dripping from your boyfriend’s text message almost unleash your powers in the middle of your dorm.

No, you need to get a hold of yourself at least a little longer. After all, a few more hours won’t hurt over the fact that you went through this for over 4 years by now.

But today, you will make Satoru Gojo pay for the countless times he made fun of you. Today, you will wipe that cheeky grin off his face.  Oh, how much you long for the moment when reality hits him with full force, when he finds out what your capable of.

How will he react when he finds out that you, a grade 4 sorcerer, are able to use hollow purple before he does? How will he react when he finds out his girlfriend fucked his best friend before disappearing into thin air and becoming his worst enemy? You worked on this plan for so long, replayed it over and over in your head. But now it’s time. Today, you will make the whole jujutsu world pay for all the things they did to you.

With a satisfied grin, you pull the exquisite pair of stockings you just bought for this exact moment up your legs, looking at yourself in the mirror. Oh, those black dessous definitely suit you well. Perfect for seducing the best friend of your boyfriend.

You put a simple dress on and get going. Well, is it necessary to fuck with Suguru? Absolutely not. You could just disappear right here and now and continue your plan. But where would be the fun of it? Just the thought of seeing that look of horror on Satoru’s eyes when he realizes you aren’t the girl he knows anymore, him not only losing his girlfriend, but his best friend as well. He deserves a little pain for all the things he said to you, for the countless times he made you feel worthless.

Exactly 30 minutes left until Satoru will arrive at Suguru’s doorstep as well. 30 minutes to seduce your boyfriend’s best friend, 30 minutes that will change your life forever. Are you ready to let go of the sweet and innocent girl you were, the easy life you had in the eyes of others as Satoru’s girlfriend without any power?

“Hell yes”, you mumble to yourself, heart almost beating out of your chest while you knock against his door.

Geto was always a true sweetheart, the one who always stood up for you even against Satoru. His oh so charming smile, his inviting hands, his character made of pure gold. He really doesn’t deserve what comes next.

But power demands sacrifice and pain. Maybe he’ll understand.

As soon as he opens the door, you crumble in front of him and cry. Crocodile tears stream down your face in rivers, shaky hands covering your face.

“(y/n), what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you? Come on, get in!”

His hand is placed on your back and pushes you softy into the middle of the room. Instead of saying another word, he simply wraps his inviting arms around you.

“Satoru…”, you mumble.

You can clearly see the way his jaw tenses. It’s nothing new to Suguru to see you cry because of his best friend. Geto told him over and over to treat you better, to not be so rough, to look after you in a caring way. And even though he always admired how well you kept your composure, moments like this one happened once in a while.

Nothing noticeable, right?

You burry your head against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck. Oh, you never noticed how tight his muscles are, how trained he is underneath that wide uniform.

Time to take it off.

“I can’t take it anymore, Suguru”, you cry it.

Well, at least this isn’t a lie. Before he’s able to stop you, you press your lips against his. Suguru feels so different, tastes sweeter than Satoru with a hint of mint. Your hands cramp around his neck, force him to stay in place while he looks at you with his eyes widen.

“(y/n)…Please stop”, he breathes out.

Stopping? Why does he press his body against yours, then? Why do his lips start to move against yours in sync, his eyes slowly but surely fluttering shut? Suguru always held a special place for you in his heart.

And you’ll use this spark of weakness against him.

“I can’t”, you mutter against his lips while pushing him towards his bed.

He grabs your hips when you force him to sit down on his bed, dark eyes gazing up at you like in trance.

“We can’t…(y/n), this is wrong in so many ways, Satoru is my best friend-“

“I am your friend too”, you interrupt him, hand gliding up and down his chest.

“I heard it when you said that Satoru doesn’t deserve me.”

He lets out his breath, whole body tensed up like stone underneath your merciless touch. You let yourself glide onto his lap, let yourself fall onto his already rock-hard erection. No, there’s absolutely no doubt in the fact that Suguru wants you.

And that your plan will work.

“I always wanted you more. You were always so good to me, Suguru. Now let me be good to you”, you hush oh so innocent.

His eyes roll into his skull, a pained expression painted on his face while he fights for what seems like dear life underneath your merciless touch. Your words do things to him he’d never dare to speak out. Damn, Satoru is his best friend, you’ve been his girlfriend for over 4 years and right now, you’re sitting on his lap. Right now, he can’t help but imagine you underneath him while groaning his name into his ear with your sweet voice.

“Fuck”, he hisses through gritted teeth, arms pushing you harder against his pants.

Your hips start to move on their own, sensitive spot rubbing over and over against him until your wetness covers his clothes delicately, a low groan escaping his lips before he can stop himself.

Enough of that. Without thinking twice, you unzip his pants and push them down his muscular legs, heat radiating through your whole body. This is absolutely hot, so exciting that you almost come from the sheer thought of fucking Suguru. But what excites you even more is that Satoru might walk through this door every given minute in order to surprise his best friend…

“Suguru”, you moan into the thick air as soon as his fingertips brush over your clit.

“(y/n)”, he growls against your ear, head hidden against your neck.

“(y/n)…”

Your heart skips a beat, fingers digging deeper into Suguru’s skin. Yes, this is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for, the moment you’ve begged for. As if in slow motion, you turn your head around.

There he stands, bright blue orbs widen in horror while he stares at you and Suguru.

“Didn’t expect you here”, you lie, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.

Elegantly, you get up from Suguru’s lap and put your panties up.

“(y/n)…you….you fucked my best friend”, the white-haired boy breathes out.

“I need to make an announcement.”

His numb eyes dart towards you. You, the girl he loved for over four years. You, the cute and innocent (y/n) he was always proud of, the girlfriend literally any guy could ask for. You…you aren’t capable of something like that. You can’t even stand up for yourself and now…Now you’re fucking his best friend?

“See this as my first act of revenge for all those years you pushed me around like the dirt underneath your shoes, Gojo.”

The way you spit his last name at him almost sweeps him off his feet.

“What the hell are you talking about? I was always good to you and you…you just fucked my best friend”, he shouts, the numb undertone in his eyes changing into pure rage.

“Good to me? You treated me like a hamster, like your weak little pet. But let me tell you, I’m not that weak girl you taught me to be anymore.”

Roughly, you grab his wrist, light the whole room purple.

“(y/n)…”, you hear Suguru breathe out behind you.

“This can’t be true.”

Satoru’s free hand yanks towards your body, aims for control all over again. It has always been like this. Gojo, who thinks the world belongs exclusively to him. Gojo, who thinks he can treat you like a price. Gojo, who thinks you can’t live without him.

“Don’t you dare to touch me ever again”, you purr at him, escaping his grasp with ease while pushing him so hard that he stumbles backwards.

“You aren’t my boyfriend anymore. From now on, you are my enemy. And I’ll never let you forget about that, Gojo Satoru.”

Tags:

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[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 13: Sethos x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6283

Warnings: Afab!reader, misogynistic practices/beliefs, sexual slavery, free use, forced betrothal, chastity device (female), public sex, sex outdoors, anal fingering, anal sex, anal creampie, exhibitionism, mentioned death of parents, noncon to dubcon

A/N: Sethos is honestly one of the most gorgeous characters I've ever seen tbh, his color palette is just stunning imo. Love this guy. 🤭 Just make sure to pay attention to the tags everyone!

⭐

If one were to ask the tribesmen of the desert what they liked about the inhospitable environment so much that they’d choose to stay, even when there was a perfectly comfortable rainforest just over the horizon, one was likely to receive a variety of different answers. Some might say that it was the only home they’d ever known and they were used to living there. Although true, it wasn’t an entirely honest response. 

Others might nudge their toe at the real reason by saying they liked the freedom that was allotted to them by living outside of the Dendro Archon’s dominion and the stuffy Akademiya’s reach. That was closer but still not entirely accurate. 

Yet other denizens of Sumeru’s expansive desert may even get down to the nitty gritty of it and proudly admit they thrived in the bloodthirsty conditions perpetuated by the lawless land. It was a dog eat dog world out there, and some people were simply far too unlikable to thrive in a polite society where their fists didn’t solve every problem they encountered. You liked this kind of person the least. 

In truth, you strongly suspected the real answer lied in the simplicity of the largely nomadic existence of the warrior peoples and not only when it came to problem solving matters. It was easy to understand that in order to eat you needed to work. Not so much when schooling suddenly came into question and you had to try to explain that investing in education now would result in an excess of mora to feed yourself with later. The same also applied to relationships. Why go to the trouble of courting a potential lover over time when you could simply take them by force and have them immediately? 

That’s what it boiled down to, you think. A natural aversion to rule following and a hard coded need for the freedom to live life at your own discretion. It wasn’t really any wonder then that the Eremite’s had managed to survive these past long decades with neither help or interference from the nation’s Archon. They were a stubborn lot. 

But that only applied to the people who were strong enough to back up their big talk, not someone like you. Taken in by the Temple of Silence as little more than an orphan turned slave and then promised to be their next leader's wife, you had neither freedom nor strength, and you certainly didn’t have the luxury of returning to the city in the rainforest where you were originally from. After your scholar parents died on a joint expedition out into the rolling sand dunes in an accident that left you wandering all alone in the barren wasteland, you had nothing to go back to anyway. Sometimes it felt like your fate had already been signed, sealed and dotted long before you were ever actually born and this lackluster existence was a foregone conclusion. 

Oh, how you wished you had a cock between your legs so you wouldn’t have to endure such unfair treatment just because you were a woman. 

Sethos was incredibly lucky in that regard. As your betrothed and future husband, you and him spent a lot of time together and you were always surprised at how much freedom he was actually given to do whatever he pleased. Of course not all of it had to do with his gender. As the next leader of the Temple and the adopted grandson of Bamoun, he was granted many allowances that even the other men simply didn’t have. 

But you still can’t help the pang of jealousy you feel while you watch him happily gallivant around with nary a care in the world beyond the simple matter of daily survival. His future was already laid out before him and he didn’t need to worry about securing his position since it had already been decided for him by the current leader. It was only a matter of time until Sethos took over for him, and then the two of you would be wed. 

The worst part was that he was exceptionally smart and had a quick wit that would put even some Akademiya alumni to shame despite his lack of formal education. You didn’t doubt for one second that he could have easily landed himself a spot in the prestigious school if he’d wanted to, if he’d just try, but that was not the fate the stars had laid out for him. 

Sighing under your breath, you drop your chin into the waiting palm of your hand as you watch the boys recklessly fool around with their hunting knives. Someone was going to get themselves hurt at this rate but you knew better than to nag at them by now. They never listened anyway, and your status as a slave meant they often took offense to being told anything they didn’t want to hear when it was coming from you. 

As usual you would just quietly observe their play sparring until one of them inevitably failed to move quick enough to avoid the swing of a blade and end up with a new scar to show for it. There was no reasoning with someone who didn’t want to be reasoned with. 

Sethos, at least, tended to be a little more agreeable in this regard. He wasn’t outright opposed to hearing you out even if he didn’t always like what you had to say, and he glances over at where you’re sitting at the sound of your quiet exhale. An easy going grin slides across his face and he turns to walk towards you, plopping down on the ground next to the little blanket you’ve got laid out in the sand. 

“Getting bored?” 

“I’ve been bored since we got here.” You tell him truthfully, but rather than taking it as disrespect like some others might have he just throws his head back to laugh. 

“Yeah, I guess girls don’t usually get much out of watching a couple of guys mess around with knives. Would you have liked to stay back at the temple instead?” 

“Why, so I could knit yet another shirt for you?” Internally cursing the vague sting of tears that comes into your eyes, you turn your head so you won’t have to look at him any longer. Picking up a small rock covered in sand grit from the ground, you focus all of your attention on it instead. “I know this is just how life is out here, but there’s not much to do. Your grandfather doesn’t even let me have any books to read. He says I need to focus on learning how to be a good wife for you, not filling my head with ideas.” 

And you hated it. You hated it so much you felt like you could just scream and throw a fit sometimes. Both of your parents had been accomplished graduates of the Akademiya and they’d instilled a love for learning in you from a very young age. You were supposed to be studying for tests and working on a thesis, setting up internships in your chosen field, not this. 

That was the only reason you’d even been out here with them when the accident happened. To learn and pick up on skills that would help you once you were admitted to Teyvat’s most acclaimed and celebrated academy. Who could have ever guessed you'd never again step foot outside of the dry, arid desert at the onset of that trip? 

And you don’t make any qualms about your feelings on the matter, nor do you try to hide the fact you’re unhappy. You’ve had this conversation with Sethos many times over the last handful of years since you found yourself in the care of the Temple of Silence but it never seemed to do you any good talking to him about it. 

Just as every other time, he falls silent for a brief moment as if he were thinking it over before at last drawing a carefully measured breath to speak. 

“I’m sorry things turned out this way for you. I’d change it if I could. But I’ll find you some books when we get back later, how does that sound?” 

“And Bamoun will just take them away again.” 

“Then I’ll find some more books for you. And when I take over from grandfather I can call the shots. You’ll have as many books as you want, habibti.” 

“Don’t call me that.” You hiss, shooting him a quick but not less viscous look of warning. 

Sethos just smiles right back at you though, completely unperturbed by your aversion to his favored pet name for you. The bright green of his eyes dances before you even in the shade of the rocky outcrop your small group had stopped at, as if the irises were lit from within with some unnamed mischief he was concocting. 

It’s a little cooler here than out in the glaring sunlight but not cold enough to warrant the icy chill that snakes down your spine. That particular look from him rarely meant anything good. 

“But you are my habibti. It only makes sense for me to call you that, doesn’t it?” 

“I don’t want - -“ 

He cuts off your rattling protest when he reaches over to take your hand in his, snagging your fingers before you can think to pull them away. You startle slightly at the sudden contact even as you stamp down the urge to wrench free of his hold, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good to try. Sethos could at times be the most stubborn person you’d ever known and his tenacity was limitless. If he decided he wanted to hold your hand then that was what he was going to do. 

“I know, I know.” He croons at you, keeping his voice soft and hushed as if he were coaxing a skittish animal to warm up to him. “This isn’t the life you would have chosen for yourself if you’d had the chance, and that’s okay. But what’s done is already done. We’ll be husband and wife someday soon so that makes you my habibti. Getting upset about it won’t change that, will it?” 

You draw a sharp breath, instinctively readying to fight him on that, but the words catch in your throat. Not only because you already knew it would be useless and no amount of talking on your part ever seemed to convince Sethos that this wasn’t right, but also because of the steady way he just keeps smiling at you. Like his confidence on the matter was so resolute and unfaltering that even if you did try to plead your case it wouldn’t have any affect on his belief in these simple facts. And that’s exactly what it was. Simple fact. 

It really was a lost cause. He’d already made up his mind long ago that this was just the way things were and you were going to be his wife. No ifs, ands or buts about it.

The fight promptly drains from you at that realization, leaving you feeling hollow and decidedly bereft of even enough energy to keep drawing air into your lungs. There was no point in fighting it. 

“No, it won’t.” You murmur at last, earning a brief squeeze to your fingers. 

“See? Then there’s nothing to be mad about. I don’t blame you for not liking all the trouble the elders put you through. I wouldn’t enjoy their knitting or cooking lessons either. That’s why I wanted to bring you out here today so you could get a break from them.” 

Feeling a little guilty for your behavior now, you drop your attention to look down at your lap. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t take it out on you.” 

“That’s alright,” He tells you softly. “But I have noticed you’ve been getting more and more irritable lately. You know I don’t like to see you like this, habibti. Do you need me to tend to you like last time?” 

Your stomach wrenches so suddenly and so aggressively you almost feel nauseous with the abrupt rush of dread that settles over you. It’s a violent subconscious reaction that is at complete and total odds with how casually unassuming the question had been. 

Stiffening up to sit ramrod straight, you tersely give your captured hand a yank but he holds fast. You’d known better, of course, but — 

“No. Not here, Sethos! Don’t - -“ 

Softly shushing you again, he scoots closer to join you on the edge of the blanket as his opposite hand comes up to reach for your face. You quickly snap your head away from him but this does you no good either. He just curls his strong, roughly calloused fingers over your cheek so he can force your attention back around to look at him. Although gentle about it, he’s so demanding in the way he nudges you that you have no choice but to comply.

And the tears you’d worked so hard to force back immediately spring up full force to make your vision swim. Sucking in a wet, faltering breath, you pleadingly peer over at your future husband, begging him to spare you the embarrassment of what he was suggesting. The other men were still only a few yards away playing their silly game, they’d see everything! 

“Please. I don’t want to do it. I - I don’t like it, I really don’t.” 

“I’m not sure I believe that, beautiful. You were so good for me the last time and well behaved too. Even grandfather remarked on how obedient you were.” Tenderly stroking his thumb across your skin, Sethos peers into your face with that confident, knowing little grin. “It’s okay, don’t fret now. I understand that you can be irrational at times but we know just how to fix that, don’t we?” 

Your lower lip sadly warbles as he guides you into a nodding motion, encouraging compliance even when you’d rather do anything else than agree to this. But there wasn’t much you could do to actually fight it. Between being a prisoner of the Temple of Silence, functionally nothing more than a slave, and as his promised future bride, you simply didn’t have the privilege of choice. No matter how much you wanted to tell him ‘no’ and kick, and spit until he finally gave up on the idea, you just couldn’t do that. 

So you merely sit there when he leans into you, letting him slot his mouth over yours with only a tiny little whimper to show for it. The way he kisses you is just as sure and confident as everything else he does, leaving you with no choice but to reluctantly give in to the demanding push and pull of his lips. He wanted you to reciprocate and so you do. 

And when he slides his hand down off your cheek to deliberately push at your shoulder, indicating he wanted you to lie back, you do that too. Stiff and halting, you gingerly ease yourself down to the ground while Sethos follows after you so he can keep claiming your mouth for himself. 

Once he’s got you laid out next to him, he lets his topmost hand wander to firmly grope over your chest and give the tits underneath your clothes a savory squeeze. You can’t help squirming against him at the immediate rush of sensation you feel while his surprisingly big hands knead over the fleshy swells until you can’t quite stop yourself from bringing your thighs together in a listless press. He did indeed make you feel good when he touched like this and if he’d just leave it at that you probably wouldn’t have been so opposed to it. 

But he eventually grabs hold of your hip to direct you to roll half of the way over, which you shudderingly do to leave your ass pressed into his hip. Still hungrily kissing you, Sethos rather unceremoniously starts to gather your long skirt so he can hike it up around your waist and expose your lower body to the air. It’s not overly comfortable lying like that, with your hips twisted around to grant him the access he sought and your neck craned back to give him your mouth, but you have no choice in this either. 

All you can do is helplessly lie there while he hooks a hand under the bend of your topmost knee so he can pull it wide to hook over his leg. That leaves the spot between your thighs completely exposed and vulnerable, and you shudder fiercely when he reaches down to smooth his fingers over your cunt. 

Except it is not flesh and blood he touches but rather the cool metal of the gilded chastity device you were forced to wear. It was lightweight and flexible enough to move with your body, yet also sturdy enough to discourage any attempt at removing the barrier by force. Not even Sethos had the key to the little lock keeping it snugly in place where it fed down from the band that was tightly secured around your middle. Only Bamoun had the power to free you from the physical manifestation of your servitude, and he would give that same power over to your betrothed on the night of your wedding. But until then you were made to wear it day in and day out, permitted only to take it off to bathe once in the morning and once at night. 

Your one and only consolation in this matter was that at least Bamoun didn’t personally handle the tediously dehumanizing routine himself and instead handed off the key to one of the other female hand servants to take care of. It wasn’t much of a compromise when you really thought about it but at least that saved you the humiliation of having the old man’s hands all over you, touching you where you really did not want to be touched.

But in the here and now when Sethos is lightly brushing his fingers over the strip of gold plated metal, you find yourself sensitively trembling for him all the same. You couldn’t feel anything at all through the chastity belt but the visual alone is enough to make your pussy flood with overly eager, long neglected slick. Even if you weren’t particularly happy about it, you were still keen to be touched there and you did like Sethos enough not to curse him for it. 

Groaning a breathy, threadbare sound, you fist your nearest hand in the front of his shirt and jut your pelvis up towards his fingers. It didn’t matter if it was an effort in futility or not when you were so desperate for any stimulation at all that you felt nearly delirious with it at just the slightest suggestion. No one had ever touched you there before, not even yourself. Not like this. You’d only been at the very onset of puberty when you ended up here and the realization that you were a virgin was in part what had made Bamoun decide to marry you off to his grandson. 

He’d said he wanted to keep it like that, to make sure you stayed pure and intact until the time came for Sethos to bed you, but in taking away anyone else’s access to your body he’d also taken away yours. There was only a small hole cut out of the otherwise perfectly smooth plate that allowed you to urinate through it but nothing else. It wasn’t even adequately big for you to slip one of your fingers inside. 

The only point of entry was further back where the plate ended and the securing metal chord started. The entire contraption was much too snug against you where it fed up between your ass cheeks to move it very much, but there was just enough give for him to shift the thin chain aside and gain entry. 

And that’s exactly what he does now, stretching his fingers down over your cunt to brush against the pucker of your hole when he hooks them into the chain. A low, faltering mewl tumbles out of your mouth when he nudges it as far as it will go to leave your anus completely exposed, and you jolt when you catch a masculine snicker off in the near distance. 

You knew the other men must have been glancing over and probably elbowing each other over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Instead you just screw your eyes shut and suck in one ragged breath after another, jittery panic gripping you tight while Sethos lightly runs his finger back and forth over the puffy wrinkle. 

“Shh, just relax. Don’t worry about them right now,” He whispers against your cheek, soft yet unrelenting at the same time. “Focus on me, habibti. There you go. Deep breaths.” 

Struggling just to keep your head on straight, you blearily let your head loll back against the ground and attempt to follow his instructions. The shift makes the tears in your eyes dislodge themselves from your lash line, letting them dribble wet tracks down your face to fall off into the sand. 

There was something inherently wrong about this too, of that you were certain. You’d never seen such flagrant public displays of human sexuality before coming here and the lack of shame so many of the men seemed to have about it had frightened you a great deal at first. It seemed any woman who was not strong enough to defend herself from their advances was free game but as Sethos’ betrothed you weren’t even really permitted to fight back. His right to your body was absolute and unquestionable, regardless of the time or the place. And since you were still technically an intact virgin in their eyes, doing it this way didn’t even earn the disapproval of his grandfather. 

Sethos’ cleverness was unmatched though so it didn’t really come as a great surprise that he would find a suitable workaround for this. But that doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept this sort of treatment or come to terms with it when every single alarm bell was going off in the back of your mind. If it was just him you might have been more amenable — would have been when you were so easily riled up due to years of neglect, but you didn’t want the others to see you like this! 

“Oh no, no, albee. Don’t cry. I’m here, don’t worry. I’ll have you all sorted out in no time, I promise.” 

He shifts against you then, hand falling away to reach back for something tucked away in his sash. You had a few guesses what it might be, of course, and you just lie there sniffling sadly to yourself while he fumbles behind you for a moment before settling in again. 

Cautiously lifting your head, you take care not to look too far ahead and instead focus in on Sethos’ hand and the little glass vial he’s thumbing open. You’ve been through this enough times with him to know it’s sticky olive oil thickly sloshing around inside, though he’d at times also used other kinds of impromptu lubricants when the need arose. This kind of oil was his favorite though for its effectiveness and you find that you’re a little relieved to see he had some on hand. You weren’t sure you could properly relax your muscles when you were all but thrumming like an active livewire in this humiliating situation, but the oil should at least ensure you don’t tear. 

Still murmuring soft nothings to you, Sethos reaches down again and carefully upends the small bottle to allow a healthy dollop to ooze out. It lands almost smack dab in the center of your asshole and you hiss a seething sound while he sets the vial aside where it wouldn’t get knocked over. 

Then he’s bringing his hand back down to eagerly rub the pads of his fingers through the clinging oil, working it into your skin. Even just that much feels good, you’re mortified to realize, and you reluctantly start to give in to the attention grabbing ache in your gut that demands you seek pleasure in some form. 

While you weren’t exactly pleased to be doing this out in the open, right in front of his friends, there was no use denying that his logic in this was reasonable. You had been soothed to complacency the last time he did this to you, and the time before that, and the one before that as well. It was the closest thing to a stress reliever you could get out here when you were neither permitted to touch your own cunt or pick up a curved scimitar for you to swing around. 

Even Sethos didn’t trust you that much to let you get your hands on a weapon, and that was probably for the best. 

So you just make do with softly groaning through the tears tracking down your face as he works over the puffed up rim of your entrance, encouraging you to relax into it with gentle words spoken against your cheek between the kisses he places there. Not for the first time you think that Sethos will make for a very fine lover someday and you were probably lucky in that regard, but you still wished you could have chosen to be with him instead of having it decided for you. 

You probably would have chosen him too, in all honesty. 

“Does that feel good, beautiful?” He murmurs, prompting you to nudge your chin in a faltering nod. 

“Y - yes. Will you … stick it in?” 

“If that’s what you want me to do.” 

He starts to lean further over you as if to fully cage you in underneath him but the shuffle of boots in the sand immediately brings his head back up. Squeaking a horrified sound, you shyly bring your hands up to cover your flustered face but even with an audience watching Sethos just keeps rubbing his sticky fingers across your puckered hole as if this were a totally normal, everyday occurrence. 

“Sorry to interrupt, boss. Rahid hurt himself trying to show off so we’re going to bandage him up real quick. You want us to start a fire and make a quick lunch or …” 

The ‘are you too busy fingering your future bride’ goes unspoken but the other man doesn’t really need to say it at that point. You can hear it clearly in his voice, and you whimper a dire tinged sound when Sethos starts to press in on the center of the slackened wrinkle to tease you with the suggestion of penetration. 

“Yeah, you guys just relax for a while. We’ll be done soon.” 

“You got it.” 

As his footsteps start to retreat, you slowly lower your fingers to peer up at Sethos with a teary eyed look. “This is why I said not here …”

“Aw, come on. No harm, no foul, right? They’ve all seen worse.” Carelessly shrugging off your concerns as usual, Sethos pins you with the sparkling green of his eyes and leans into you again. “Besides, once we’re married I can have you anywhere I want and it won’t just be your cute ass I have access to then. Might as well get used to it now, huh?” 

“You’re awful.” 

Laughing quietly under his breath, he starts to put a bit more pressure on your entrance and you gasp when that finger starts to slip inside. One measly inch at a time, it forces your inner sleeve to expand and open up for him until he can sheathe it in you straight down to the knuckle. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a low, warbling sound of pleasure, but both of you already knew that it wasn’t enough. You’d been through this too many times for a single digit to stretch you out the way you wanted to be stretched. 

Gradually sliding his hand back until just the tip of his finger remains wedged inside your puffy rim, Sethos slowly pushes back in with two this time. As he settles in to fuck you with them, you outright seethe at the sensation as much as at the sticky wet clicks he pulls from your asshole on each upward plunge. Your body greedily sucks at them and tries to take him in deeper but there’s nowhere else for him to go with his knuckles already flush to your skin. 

So he soon adds a third to really stretch your hole open and it puts so much delicious pressure on your squeezing guts that you almost manage to forget where you are. 

Hissing a vicious sound, you blindly reach down to curl your hand over the metal plate as if to rub yourself but of course you can’t. You just find your fingers impotently pawing over the spot where your cunt should have been while the sticky sensation of building slick seeps out of you to make a mess along the interior of it. It’s so frustrating that you could almost scream, and Sethos quickly hunches close to press his mouth against your temple when you become increasingly more agitated. 

“Shhh. Just relax, habibti. We’ll have that off of you in no time and then I’ll play with your little pussy as much as you want, okay?” 

“Please … stick it in, Sethos, I can’t take it anymore.” 

Rumbling a low sound of pleasure, he carefully withdraws his fingers from your ass to leave it clenching around nothing while he works to get his pants unfastened. Panting heavily and clutching the front of his shirt in a death grip, you dazedly tip your head to watch him reach for the olive oil again. Another small drop directly to your asshole is quickly followed by a generous portion to his rigid cock which he pumps a few times to smear the copious liquid over it. 

Then he’s finally nudging himself right up against you, using his hand to guide his length to your waiting entrance. The other wedges itself under your back to come up around on the other side, clutching you so tightly against him you can scarcely breathe. Angling his narrow hips up, he presses the fleshy head into you and begins to push inside, making your mouth drop open on a silent scream. 

It felt good. So, so much better than his fingers had, and the immediate rush of ecstasy has you weakly shaking in his arms. The vibration of his masculine groan right next to your head all but has you seeing double and your head drunkenly lolls back while he works himself deeper, basking in the gradual stretch of your hole. 

And he doesn’t wait for you to adjust, knowing you were already sufficiently loosened for him from all the other times you’d previously done this. He just starts thrusting, keeping his strokes evenly drawn out and steady to really make you feel the drag of him against your guts. You’re hyper aware of your sphincter weakly clinging to his length on the way out only to be forced back in on the next upward push and it drives you positively wild. 

Especially when he latches onto your softly moving breast with the hand he’d wedged under your back, playing with the stiff nipple right through your shirt. Outright squealing in pleasure now, you fitfully buck your hips to push down on him and meet his plunging cock head on, earning another faltering groan from him. 

“Good girl. Oooughn, that’s a good girl, beautiful. You like that? Huh? Like having my cock that deep in your ass?” 

“Oh! God … h - harder, Sethos, please!” 

A rattling breath puffs out of him in response but he obliges, working his flexing hips more vigorously to really drive himself into your softly squelching ass. The sharp sound of skin smacking against skin rises louder in the air as he drills into you with enough force to really make your tits bounce now. And his other hand quickly comes up to fumble with the hem of your top, shoving it out of the way to expose your chest. 

Keening a delighted sound when he bends his head close to capture one of the bobbing nipples in his mouth, you carefully bring your head up to peer out over the sand dune. Sure enough, his friends are sitting around a small campfire some few yards away and they were definitely still within ear shot. But their attention largely remains locked ahead, focusing on whatever they were busying themselves with rather than the sordid display happening just behind them, and you’re reminded once again how different the rules of the desert actually are compared to that of the rainforest. Something like this would never fly in Sumeru City, surely. 

But here it’s as if it’s so commonplace that even your shrill feminine cries don’t draw their glances. It was just as Sethos said. They’d seen much worse, had heard much worse and had likely done much worse themselves. Watching you get your ass stretched out on Sethos’ cock wasn’t even all that interesting to them, evidently. 

Mewling a frazzled sound, you let your head fall back as you blindly reach down for your cunt again. Even knowing it’s an effort in futility isn’t quite enough to stop you from trying to follow through on the instinctive compulsion, and a pitiful whimper escapes you when your fingers just glance over cool, unfeeling metal. You could tell you were positively soaked through though, and you would be glad to return to the Temple to bathe. 

But luckily you still feel the internal pressure within you steadily building even without being able to play with your pussy to help it along. Sethos does an excellent job of that between his pistoning cock and the concerted efforts of his mouth and hands on your tits. It’s almost as if in not being able to derive any pleasure from your cunt, every other erogenous zone on your body was all the more sensitive for it. Your nipples achingly throb in time with the rhythmic pulse in your ass, mirroring your wild heartbeat thrice over, and it doesn’t take long for you to reach the tipping point like this. 

What finally sends you over the edge is Sethos, in all his cunning wisdom, taking pinching hold of both stiff teats and giving them a sharp twist. You plaintively squeal, back bowing dramatically to angle your pelvis just right to have him jabbing up at the perfect spot inside your guts. You cum with a violent shudder, wailing a stricken sound as your ass sporadically squeezes around him to milk everything it could get out of the orgasm. 

That warm flutter of your walls squeezing around him seems to all but steal the oxygen right out of Sethos’ lungs and he wheezes, lurching against you with a wounded groan. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven while he chases that pinprick high until he cums too, giving a sudden, fitful jerk to accompany the twitch of his cock where it’s buried deep inside you. 

You haven’t even had enough time to recover from your own release yet and the sensation of him shooting off in your ass, painting your interior creamy and white, pulls an overwrought sound from your rattling chest. But then it’s over, just like that, and the two of you lay there for a long moment, panting against one another as the endorphin buzz settles over you. 

Finally lifting his head to look you in the face again, Sethos reaches up to thoughtlessly push all that excess of thick hair back over his shoulder where it had started to slide forward. “Feeling any better now?” 

It takes a good deal of effort not to roll your eyes but you abstain for the simple fact that … you did feel better, actually. “I hate to admit it and run the risk of further inflating your ego, but yes. I do. Are you happy?” 

“Very.” He grins at you, leaning close to give the end of your nose a quick, playful kiss. “You’re always a much better listener when your body is happy.”

You can’t help but frown slightly at that. “What do you mean? I always listen to you. It’s not like I really have much of a choice.”

“Well, yes, but there’s a difference between listening and listening, if you know what I mean. Come on. You’re smart. You get what I’m trying to say, right?” 

“I suppose so. What did you want to say then?” 

Humming a soft little sound under his breath, Sethos pushes up on his elbow so he can look down at you, smiling that deceptively unassuming smile again. “I just wanted you to know that I understand where you’re coming from. Really, I do. I’d be pretty unhappy too if I were in your shoes, but we don’t need to make this any harder than it needs to be. Once I take over for grandfather, I’ll be happy to give you all the freedom you want. I wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to go back to the rainforest sometime.” 

Your eyes go big and round, so caught off guard by what he’s saying that for a long moment you’re not quite sure what to say. Was he serious or … was this some sort of cruel trap? 

“Really? You actually mean that?” 

“Mhm! You’d just have to promise to come back, that’s all. You’ll still be my wife, you know.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[bearw-me]

Just read that vigilante request, can we please get that character somehow running into I.M.P. (maybe even helping them against Striker or Crimson?) , and also maybe a bit of a romance with Loona? You've got full creative liberty here on how that happens tho

vigilante!reader is back!! 😭😭💖

𝐈.𝐌.𝐏 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐕𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𐐒 ft : vigilante!reader, blitzø, millie, moxxie, loona 𐐒 cw : swearing, fluff, crushes, mentions of killing 𐐒 summary : odd circumstances lead hell's newly found 'hero' to I.M.P 𐐒 note : i loveee this, lets make a series lol

Blitzø hired you to help out his company, offering you "the fucking glory" of going back to Earth and help him and his crew do some good by killing some "bad fucking people"

It honestly surprised you that the little imp was cunning enough to track you down one night and offer you something so- casual

Even though you insist you and I.M.P are "mutual partners" Blitzø brags to everyone that you're on his payroll and work for him. It brings him a ton of business so he advertises it WIDELY

Like whenever clients come in looking to hire the company, Blitzø likes to try and wrap an arm around your shoulders and flaunt you off smugly before you twist his wrist backwards, successfully taking his arm off you

Moxxie is obviously skeptical, always questioning you, your morals, why your doing this, etc.

It gets old, and you have to just start shoving the imp away from you (literally keeping him at arms length)

Moxxie likes to try and brag to you about not letting your 'status' in hell affect him.

And honestly Millie likes having another badass on the team. She's the perfect co-worker. Respectful, bubbly, and fucking scary when she needs to be. She isn't intimidated by you so there don't seem to be barriers when she speaks to you.

She's terrifying, so you respect her for it. And she respects you back for carrying your weight in the company.

Millie would one day like to spar with you to prove who is the strongest.

And Loona. . .

You clean your guns during meetings and job run-downs Blitzø goes over, wiping down your pistol and inspecting it closely. Listening to the plan, imagining yourself providing the crew covering fire from a nearby roof.

Then you feel her staring and catch her eyes, quirking an eyebrow at her.

The poor hellhound blushes from being caught and tries to look away. Always trying to fix her hair and checking her makeup in the mirror whenever you look her way.

You can definitely tell she's intimidated and nervous around you. And she always jumps at the chance to give you your paychecks and info from her dad.

Her and Blitzø are the only ones who know/have your contact for that reason.

Blitzø hates it. Trying to interfere and keep Loon-y off you, coming between the two of you whenever he can.

In truth Blitzø loves Loona and wants you as his badass friend he can show off. . . but his dad instincts always come first so "Don't get any fucking ideas Deadpool"

Despite a little skepticism at first, I.M.P and its employee's grow to trust you and your 'holy' endeavor to make the world a little better by ridding it of sinners.

They still all try to get to know you and get under your skin at times, despite your insistence on staying a complete mystery to them.

[thenotsofantasticlifestory]

AFAB!Reader x Eustass Kid

Word Count: 3.7K

A/N: Finally the smut part back from this post. Pegging Kid, fem!dom, sub!Kid, Overstimulation, Facesitting, if you peg Kid you automatically get a higher bounty than him lol

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was about four drinks in when Kid decided he’d had enough. 

Here he was, sitting amongst the crew in an after-battle party at some poor tavern they’d taken over for the night, and plenty were already deep into their cups. He was sitting next to Killer who was quick to notice Kid’s continuous staring in your direction, a faint blush on his cheeks as he downed another mug of ale. Kid wanted you. More explicitly he wanted you to fuck him the way you had a few nights ago tackling him into submission as he lost himself on your fake cock. Despite far too many people being around, Kid felt the need for it burning deep in his gut. The sound of a mug slamming onto the table caught his attention as he turned to Killer.

“Your staring is getting a bit creepy Kid,” he said. 

Kid scowled, tearing his eyes off you and refilling his mug, “None of your business…”

Killer’s eyes went from you, drinking merrily with another few of the crew members, to Kid, looking like a blushing wet sop of a man and Killer had to know what could’ve brought his captain to this level. 

“What exactly did they do to make you so whipped all of the sudden?”

Kid took another drink, his eyes surveyed around him to make sure he and his friend wouldn’t be overheard as the alcohol was making him honest. Once satisfied no one could eavesdrop he mumbled something out to Killer.

“What?” Killer replied.

“I said-” Kid’s hand ran through his hair, fighting to cover the red that flushed to the tips of his ears, “I let Y/N peg me…”

Killer merely sat back with a sigh, “Oh, is that it?”

Kid snapped up, staring incredulously at his friend trying to decipher the expression behind his mask.

“What do you mean ‘is that it?’” 

Killer shrugged, “Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to try it,” he took a sip through his straw facing Kid, “It’s great huh?”

Kid gaped for a moment before he found his voice, “...You mean you-?”

Even through the mask Kid could see the look his friend was giving him, he knew him too well.

“Of course, I mean why not, plus it feels amazing,” he said. 

Kid eyed him as he continued to drink through the straw before Kid took his own drink to his lips, draining the mug and setting it resolutely on the table. He rose and made his way over to you. It didn’t matter that you were mid conversation, once Kid plucked you from where you were sitting and threw you over his shoulder, the others knew better than to interfere.  He stayed mute to your protestations as he carried you outside the bar, setting you back on the ground before him, hands on your shoulders.

“Do you have your stuff?” he asked.

“What? What stuff?”

Kid ran a hand through his hair, “You know…the stuff that you used on me a few nights ago…?” Kid hoped he could make his point without explicitly saying it. He was still too worried about some drunk crew member listening in. Fortunately, you caught on quickly.

“Oh, that stuff,” the grin that stretched your lips already was sending a flush down his neck, “It’s in my room on the ship…why?” you added coyly.

Kid huffed, “Don’t make me say it…”

You leaned into him now, pressing lightly into his chest as a finger trailed down the solid mass of muscle, “Use your words Kid, you have to tell me what you want.”

Kid bit back the whimper that threatened to spill out, biting at his lip, eyes darting for any unknowing listeners.

“I want…you to fuck me…”

“Fuck you where Kid?”

His eyes closed, fighting the words but knowing exactly what you wanted to hear and that you wouldn’t cave until he said it.

“Fuck me…in my ass…”

He knew he had done good when he was rewarded with your lips pressing against his, a hand curled into his red locks as he moved against our mouth for a while, soft smacking sounds outside the rambunctious bar. When you broke apart Kid could already feel himself starting to harden. Your eyes caught an inn across the way and you motioned toward it.

“Go get us a room, I’ll get what we need and meet you there,” you gave him a brief peck before running back toward the ship. 

++++++++++++++

“Fuck are you going to fuck me or what?” 

Kid lay on the bed, completely nude, mechanical arm slouched off to the side while you gave loving attention to his cock, taking your time licking and sucking as your fingers danced along his hard length. 

“Patience Kid,” you nipped delicately at his shaft resulting in a hissed curse, “let me enjoy myself for a bit here.”

Kid’s head fell back onto the mattress with a huff, “You’re being a tease…”

You laughed, sending a long slow lick to the vein on the underside of his shaft, enjoying the way he twitched under the ministration, “so you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

This clearly struck a nerve as Kid shot you a look, “I can take it just fine! Problem is that you’re not giving it yet!”

You pulled back up to a seated position and Kid’s eyes darted down to the thick cock strapped to your body. It wasn’t even fair to look this hot with a fake cock standing from you and Kid felt himself lick his lips. Something hit him on the chest and he looked down to see the small bottle of lube you’d tossed to him. 

“Alright Kid, you want it so bad you’ll have to show me.”

Kid paused, “What?”

You settled yourself comfortably, a loose hand fisting the silicon cock in a tempting manner, “Prep yourself, your fingers are bigger than mine anyway,” a smile tugged at your lips.

Kid had the decency to blush, fumbling for something to say before you leaned forward, taking the bottle and emptying some of the contents onto his fingers, spreading the slick around the thick digits. 

“You’ve fingered me plenty of times, you’ll figure it out,” even as you started to guide his hand between his own legs, Kid felt any resistance draining away despite the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Damn you, who knew you were so sneaky? Working him up just enough to the point of no return where you knew he couldn’t say no even if he tried. You pushed one of his fingers against his entrance and Kid inhaled sharply, feeling your hand leave his as you sat back, a dark smile on your face.

“Give me a good show, Eustass.”

Kid huffed, shooting daggers at you with his glare before falling back onto the bed. Fine, you wanted a show? He could play along, just as long as he got what he was so desperately craving in the end. 

The pad of his finger traced his entrance, spreading the slick there as Kid contemplated the feeling. He’d never done this to himself before and using his own fingers had him a bit more hesitant, they were bigger after all. 

“Well?” you prompted.

Kid slipped a finger inside, biting back the little gasp that wanted to leave his lips, he didn’t want you to have the satisfaction just yet if he could help it. The first thing he noticed was how hot and tight he felt on the inside and a shudder ran through him, before pumping the finger experimentally. From this angle he knew if he wanted to get a better feel he’d have to spread his legs wider but feeling your eyes watching his every move had him feeling stubborn and frankly a little bratty. He continued to pump inside himself, the unfamiliar feeling slowly melting into pleasure as he felt his body betray him, legs widening of their own accord and he didn’t miss the hum of approval you gave in response. 

“Add another finger Kid, you’ll need it,” you said.

A breathy curse did escape this time, imagining the lengthy girth that was waiting to stretch him out and he slipped another finger in, wincing just for a moment before resuming that steady pumping. He gave an experimental scissor of his fingers and bit his lip, still not wanting to show you how turned on he was already, but the breath was coming in harder through his nostrils. He pumped in deep, relishing the tight feeling of flesh around his fingers and realized he needed more lube. 

You seemed to anticipate this, taking the bottle from the side and settling between Kid’s legs.

“Let me.”

You squeezed a generous amount onto him and Kid could feel the coolness hit his entrance still stretched around his fingers and shivered. He gave a few more thrusts, collecting the slick and using it to aid in slipping a third finger in he hoped you hadn’t noticed but the grin on your face quickly told him you had and he flushed at his own eagerness. 

“Doing such a good job Kid,” the slick squelching sound of his own fingers was loud to his ears as you drank in the sight, “how does it feel?”

Kid took a shaky inhale, working to keep his voice steady, “Feels good…”

He felt your fingers slowly stroking his hard cock and a moan bubbled out of his throat at the stimulation. 

“But you want more don’t you?” 

Kid wanted so badly to whine but he nodded his head instead, hoping that would be enough to appease you. He didn’t know how much more teasing he could handle and he felt as you removed his hand from inside him, your own fingers tracing along his sensitive inner thighs and he felt goosebumps erupt over his skin.

“What do you want Kid?”

He groaned, “You…”

“Kid,” your voice took a slight edge, pushing him to explain further and Kid felt the heat that rushed his face before he finally choked out.

“I want your cock…”

He heard the slick spread of lube across the phallus and shivered.

“Good boy,” you said, finally lining up with his entrance.

The first push in had him gasping, the fat head of the cock slipping easily inside as he felt that burning stretch that spread heat from the base of his spine. His still slick hand tangled into the sheets as he felt you work your way inside him, every gentle thrust deeper in sent fire through his body. He felt when you bottomed out, hips flush against his as you spread his legs wider to better nudge yourself inside him. This was what he had been missing, this feeling of being so stretched and filled and he swore he could feel the cock all the way up to his throat with how deep you were seated into him.

“Fuck you take it so well Kid,” you breathed out.

Kid gave a hard exhale, hips nudging against your encouraging you to move already and he bit his lip as he felt you pull nearly all the way out. Once you snapped your hips back into his, a groan ripped from his throat. You pulled out again, almost lazily before thrusting back in hard and kept a slow hard pace of fucking into him. Kid could feel the moans that spilled out of his throat with each thrust, eyes closing to lose himself in the pleasure of it. You leaned forward and he felt you take his chin in your hand.

“Eyes on me, Kid,” punctuating this with a hard thrust inside him.

Kid felt himself flush but obeyed, keeping his eyes locked to yours and when the next moan came spilling from his lips he was suddenly all too aware of your intense gaze on him.

“Fuck, harder,” he breathed, trying to turn his head away, the eye contact too much in his vulnerable state but you gripped his jaw hard, forcing him back and Kid felt his eyes crack open of their own accord.

“Good boy,” you said.

You sped up the pace, fucking into him earnestly now and Kid was breathing hard, head falling back and you let him stare up into the ceiling as you gained better purchase to push his legs farther back. He felt his hips strain against the angle but the way the cock was tightly hugged inside him had tears pricking his eyes. You hit just the right angle and Kid’s hand slapped at the sheet.

“Fuck! Right there!” he gasped.

You gave a low breathy chuckle, adjusting your hips before driving forward again and sending stars into Kid’s vision, relishing in the strangled moan he gave.

“Hold your leg back for me Kid.”

With just one arm, he managed to wrap it around his thigh, keeping a leg back, but it was enough you could hold his other leg while still draping yourself forward onto him with your free arm. Kid felt his hips be pushed further back, the cock grinding and pressing against that sweet spot deep inside him while you adjusted yourself. You saw the way he was squirming, hips lightly jutting to press back against you, to pull you in even deeper while you were already flush against him.

“So eager Kid,” you cooed.

He tried to growl but only a breathy whine escapes him, surprised when your free hand suddenly found purchase in his red locks and pulled hard. With his head pulled back, you left harsh little nips against the thick column of his throat, feeling his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Your lips found his and he responds eagerly, mouth open and wanting between the heated pants that puff from him.

“Such a good boy,” you pulled back to let him breathe, seeing the way his lipstick was already smearing, “you like being filled and fucked like this?”

Another shot to his prostrate rips a filthy moan from Kid as he manages to breathe out a weak but emphatic, “Yes.”

Kid was blind to the smirk that painted your own lips, too lost in the haze of his own pleasure as your hips pounded into him, relentlessly torturing that bundle of nerves deep inside him and soon enough he could feel the hot coil in the pit of his stomach building quick. He opened his mouth to give some kind of warning but found your tongue tangling with his as you devoured the words. Another hard thrust inside him and the coil snapped, a series of breathy moans bubbling against your lips as he felt himself cum. You paused only for a second, Kid’s sudden release without his cock having even been touched caught you off guard, but you soon snapped back into action, burying your cock deep inside him and letting him ride out the orgasm. Once he collapsed bonelessly into the mattress you stilled inside him, allowing him to briefly catch his breath as you gave a peck to his cheek.

“Holy fuck…” is all Kid can manage out.

Still reeling from the effects of his orgasm, Kid doesn’t notice you settling back, keeping an iron grip on his thighs until you thrust harshly into him again. His head snapped back in a silent gasp, body still oversensitive and before he can think of what to say, you’re fucking into him at a relentless pace.

Moans and sobs spilled freely from him as you pressed him harder into the mattress, hips snapping into his already abused hole. His free hand grips the sheets before quickly moving to clutch at his face, eyes snapping shut as tears prick at the corners.

“Fuck-fuck! W-wait it’s too much…!” he felt his voice crack on the last word, before dissolving back into unintelligible whimpers as you pummel into his prostate. His body felt like it was burning, every nerve was still singed from his last orgasm and the pleasure is nearly to the point of pain from his overloaded senses. Still, he doesn’t want you to stop.

“Come on Kid,” you huffed from the exertion but not once slowing down, a bead of sweat trickling from your brow, “I know you’ve got one more for me.”

Kid managed to pry his fingers away from his eyes, feeling the intense heat on his face and saw his cock was already hard again, slapping against his stomach from the force of each thrust, smearing the mess of cum still on his abs. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take as he feels the beginning coil in the pit of his stomach start to tighten again. Then you wrapped your hand around his cock and started pumping in harsh jerks.

Kid wasn’t sure if he screamed but he can feel his vocal cords fray as sounds spill forth against the onslaught of pleasure. Finally feeling the delicious squeeze as you fist his cock in time with every powerful thrust has him spiraling quicker than he would have imagined. You saw the way his body began to tighten, focusing on the sensitive head of his cock with tight, hard strokes.

“That’s it Kid, now cum for me.”

The sultry pitch of your commanding voice, combined with the harsh treatment of his prostate and cock has him cumming even harder the second time. Thick ropey spurts of semen shot forward, further painting his stomach and chest as Kid gives a strangled sob, hand clutching at his face as he feels his head swim in a delirious lightness. You milked him roughly, teasing wave after wave of spend dribbling down your hand and covering his stomach. Kid was wheezing, taking air in big gulps as you finally feel him soften and release him. You worked the thick phallus gently out of Kid, who keens at the loss, before discarding it off to the side. Kid may have been spent but you weren’t letting him off the hook until you came at least once.

You crawled over his body before virtually sitting on his face.

“You know what to do.”

Kid was still dazed, his eyes hazy, but he complied obediently, hand coming forward to steady your waist as he brought his large tongue forward to delve into your wet folds. Groaning at the excess of slick, Kid doesn’t waste time burying his face into your cunt. Your hand gripped his hair, motioning him deeper into you as you rocked your hips against his face, Kid moaning at the action. The room was loud with lewd squelching sounds as Kid buried his tongue into you, grinding against your pelvis, the bridge of his crooked nose rubbing against your clit. He ate you out like a man starved, hand gripping at your waist with what little energy he has left. You could hear the muffled little moans of pleasure from beneath you as you allow your head to tilt back in bliss.

“Doing so good Kid, just a little more,” you rocked against him, nearly suffocating him but he’s undeterred, pulling your further down on top of him just to taste more of you. You’ve never seen him so ravenous, and as he works his ample tongue inside you, you can feel your orgasm coming up fast.

You cursed, feeling your body tighten as you hit your high, thrusting Kid’s face deeper into your cunt, but he takes it in stride, feeling you clench and drip around him as he works you through your orgasm. Once you rode it out, the tingling in your body starting to fade, you pulled off of Kid with a wet sound before flopping onto the side to take him in.

He looked positively ruined, chest still heaving and covered with his spend while his lipstick was smeared with your own slick that dribbled down his chin. You smiled down at him, Kid’s eyes, still hazy but starting to regain some semblance of focus, found yours and a grin pulled at his lips. You gave a kiss to his sweaty forehead before rising to find a towel to clean him off with.

+++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning, as they checked out Kid couldn’t help but notice the way the frenzied innkeeper kept darting glances at him, eyes wide. Maybe she recognized him from the wanted posters? The thought of it made him smirk with pride.

“Was everything- uhm- satisfactory?” The innkeeper asked. 

“Yes, very much so,” you replied, unphased by the curious glances the woman kept shooting towards Kid. 

The woman chewed her lip before speaking again, “I-I only ask because…well…some of the staff were worried something might have happened…”

That caught both of your attentions as the two of you fix her with a questioning look.

“Well, your- um…” she motioned a hand toward Kid indicating him, “he was, well, quite loud…the groaning and screams, we were just worried maybe he was hurt or worse…”

Your eyes widened and it took everything you had to bite back the smirk that wanted to split your face, especially on seeing the way Kid flushed down to his neck in a horrified stupor. Before you could respond, Kid slapped some money, more than enough to cover the cost of the night but he doesn’t seem to notice, quickly on the table before grasping you by the shoulders and hurrying you both out the door. Once in the street, Kid takes a steadying breath before he turned toward the docks.

“Let’s get back to the ship,” he started marching off but even from behind you can see his ears burning. You caught up quickly to him, a shit eating grin on your face as you stared expectantly into his flushed face. Kid refused to meet your eyes, lips pouting as he keeps his gaze forward but he can feel the satisfaction coming off you in waves.

“Next time I’ll just have to gag you, won’t I?” you said.

Kid nearly tripped over, shooting a scowl as you laugh at him good naturedly, but he has to admit, the idea of it appeals to him.

[superkooku]

Who did Asclepius resurrect ?

A couple days ago, I discussed the idea of mortals defeating gods with @kill-me-with-a-spoon on a comment section of my "thoughts on Epic" post.

We talked about Diomedes and Perseus briefly, but then a third example came in : Asclepius.

And I find this specific mention interesting because I didn't think about it but it kinda makes sense 😂

He didn't defeat any god like the two former heroes, that being physically overwhelming them. Instead, he simply "cures" death, thus Thanatos' doing. Not only his, but the Fates' too considering they cut the thread of life. And he meddled with Hades' realm, something that he hated and we know how that ended.

(Hades hating doctors will never not be funny)

I made some research on him for personal projects and so I want to use it right now for personal ramblings about who exactly Asclepius resurrected.

@kill-me-with-a-spoon was pointing out that if, by technicality, he didn't interfere with Hades' domain if souls he resurrected didn't cross the Styx. And I've got to say, I think he did.

Also, I completely agree with the fact that they're still killable. They won't die from the same cause since Asclepius heals their injuries but he doesn't deify anyone.

If we look up different sources, here's the list of people he resurrected.

Hippolytus (according to Pausanias and latin sources like Pseudo-Hyginus or Ovid)

What makes this particularly interesting is that Artemis is the one who has this idea. It shows that portraying her as a man hater is completely wrong since she asks her male nephew to resurrect her male friend/devotee. It shows her bond with Hippolytus (his death was very unfair, so I get it) and with Apollo too, since she trusted her brother's son completely.

Then, it's just funny but in-character that Theseus isn't the one who has the idea to resurrect his son, because of course he wouldn't think about it 😂. It's even funnier if we take late sources stating that Asclepius was among the Argonauts. Because Theseus was too, so they knew each other personally and yet Theseus couldn't think about it.

Another detail : Hippolytus seems to forgive Theseus in Euripides' play, but NOT after coming back to life in Pausanias' version. Different versions, I know, but if we mix the two, then we could interpret that maybe all this time in the Underworld gave him the opportunity to think about it, or maybe, with a new chance to live, he doesn't want to stay with his father.

I get you, Hippolytus. Go have fun.

Capaneus (according to Stesichorus)

What's interesting here is how Capaneus died : he participated in Polynice's siege against Thebes but was killed... by Zeus. He was struck by lightning because of hubris.

And then Asclepius comes and resurrects this guy. All the more reasons for Zeus to be angered. That means he came in and decided to undo divine punishment, the same one that will be his own doom in the future. It's pretty chilling for me.

Lycurgus

So, there are a lot of Lycurguses in mythology.

In the beginning, I thought it was Lycurgus of Thrace, which would've been hilarious because if this guy comes back to life, he'll come back traumatized and insane (also, any grapevine would be the source of PTSD flashbacks). And again, that would've mean undoing divine punishments.

BUT it seems to be a separate Lycurgus that was resurrected. Not the one who offended Dionysus.

It's also not Admetus' brother of the same name, though the logical link would've been easy to make (because of Apollo's servitude and Admetus also being an Argonaut according to some sources).

Honestly, Wikipedia is the only place where the Lycurgus that Asclepius resurrected is distinguished. Even then, the article speaks of a probable case and lists Apollodorus as a source. So not even researchers are completely sure of which Lycurgus it was.

Hymen/Hymenaios : yeah, according to the Orphics, he resurrected some guy named Hymen, even though the only figure with this name is a god... it would've been very interesting to analyze if I had more details about it. Unfortunately, there aren't really.

Tyndareus

Glaucus : It's funny how Asclepius resurrects both Theseus AND Minos' son. Though that exploit is more often attributed to the prophet and healer Polyidos. I wonder if there was some untold teacher-student relationship between the two, since Asclepius is one of the inventors of medicine (with Chiron)

And then there's this woman :

This cracks me up, because this little story alone states that Asclepius as a GOD still resurrects the dead even though he was punished for it. Tbf, he probably had to explain this to Zeus, that he had to compensate his partners' mistake. Still, that's hilarious that not even divine might stopped him.

Don't tell me he didn't know what he was doing. He's a smart guy and his father is literally mr. God of prophecy. I like his audacity.

So, coming back to the initial subject, with the sheer number of mentioned names, I do think they had the time to be buried and cross the Styx (except Capaneus, who was probably turned into ashes lol).

Asclepius definetly meddled with Hades' domain, thus angering the god of the dead and he 100% provoked Zeus.

But, not all the gods were agaisnt him. If we take the version where he resurrects people with gorgon blood, then Athena, who gave it to him, was in favor of his operations.

Then, there is Artemis who asked him to bring back Hippolytus and finally, quite obviously, his n°1 supporter is his own father Apollo (oh god, I could make a whole new post rambling just about Apollo and Asclepius).

So yeah, I really like this myth for many reasons and this is one of them : how it's tied to many other stories, how different figures behave and react to Asclepius' antics, how it puts the system of life and death into questions, etc...

Anyways, if you have anything to comment on about this myth, don't hesitate. I'd love to discuss it more !

My main source about all of this was Theoi.

[her-majesty-horiko]

➹ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗˢᵘⁿᵈᵉʳᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ 「ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵃᵘ」

─𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗨𝗔 𝗭𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗬𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°₊ ⊹ᝰ.ᐟ

Honestly it's suprise you both even confessed your feelings and were able to even get into relationship.

But I guess that's where Gon takes the credit. He may be obvious at sometimes but he is quick to notice the behaviour of your both towards each other.

Face to face all you both do is fight and blame things on each other. But when it's only Gon you both often let your 'rude' and 'I hate her/his guts' loose.

You guys literally pulled the "Love is War" after realising other one got the same feelings. You both were too prideful to confessed first. So this is where most flirting happened.

In comparison, you were most bold with your actions. Like introducing “The Pocky game” and playing it once in every week. Killua mostly tried to make you jealous with other girls, giving you smirk after seeing your expression.

Even when you both enter into relationship, your behaviour towards each other almost stay same. You still argue and Gon always have to interfere to stop you both.

You guys went as far as to even directly confessed your opinion on each other. Killua will go on something like “She is too sour to date anyways.” while you will respond how it's going to be his first and only relationship “With his arrogant mouth I doubt anybody will even date him again.”

As bad as it sound, you both eventually started to realise this yourself. You both will start to change some qualities of yours. Killua will try to compliment you more while you will try to respect his opinion without sarcastic comment.

At some point you may even try to change your personality or even some 'you part' of you but Killua will directly confront you about this with some lines of “That's literally part of you. Without it you aren't you. You won't be the same person, I had come to like and admired.”

Last part will make you both flustered as Killua will walk away saying, it was just to comfort you but you know him better and with the smile you will follow him, telling yourself to never let go of this tsundere boy.