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useless-bi-otch · 2 years ago

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Cookies'n Cream - Chapter 26

Last chapter / MasterList / both arts by @aneenasevla

Chapter 26 - What changed and what stayed

"For God's sake, Tomori..."

"Kanny-"

"How do you get yourself into these messes, huh?"

"Me? I should be the one asking you those kinds of questions, Miss I-Got-Into-A-Fight-With-A-Gang-Deal-With-It! And don't say that the guy I like is a "mess", it sounds like I'm on my way to become a fuckboy's baby mama..."

"And what girls who mess with guys involved with illegal stuff usually become? Uugh...," Tomori hears Kanami moan on the other end of the line; she could imagine her rubbing a hand over her face wearily. "It's okay, I won't be making accusations. It wasn't like you knew beforehand anyway..."

"I didn't even imagine that! But coming to think of it, I should've...," Tomori sighs at the phone on top of the tea table in the center of her living room, the speaker activated, while she was busy painting the nails on her left foot resting on a covered cushion “I mean, everyone who likes martial arts knows that these underground fighting circles exist here and there."

"But you never dreamed that your gorilla could be a part of this, did you?"

"No… and I feel like an idiot for that, honestly," Tomori blows a lock of hair away from her forehead "They had already told me about that backstage league some time ago. I should've suspected at the time, but..."

"But you were still a dazzled fan at the time, that's why you didn't care," Her friend deduces for her; she heard metallic sounds on the other end of the line, so she deduced that Kanami was in the kitchens. "Holy shit, and to think that I had already forgiven that idiot…"

"I think it's no longer about forgiving him or not, Kanny. He was honest with me when I questioned it, as much as possible," She explains, finishing with her pinky and blowing lightly on her nails to help the nail polish dry faster. "He said that everyone in that club is there because they want to, that the people who work with him know... it was his hesitation that made me realize there's more there that he didn't tell me. Seems like an elaborate scheme, I don't know..."

"I see... it's a case of ‘I'm not lying, I'm omitting’, right?

"Pretty much," She nods with a grimace while wetting a cotton swab with acetone. "He also told me that he doesn't earn as much from it as he does as an Ultimate Fight champion, so he doesn't seem to be in it for the money. If he really likes that kind of thing..."

"Does that make you change your mind about the two of you?"

“Uh… no, it doesn't."

"And she still wants me to not think of her as a fuckboy's next baby mama..."

"Quit it! I called you for advice and emotional support, girl, not to have my common sense questioned!," Tomori whimpers, and Kanami laughs on the other side of the line.

"I know, Tomoh, I'm just messing with you. And honestly, the only thing keeping me from being completely outraged about the situation is that he cares enough about your safety to not want to get you involved with this."

"Yeah...," Tomori can't resist, smiling in the corner while cleaning the excess nail polish from the corners of her nails. "But I'd like to watch a fight like that, I won't deny..."

"For fuck's sake, make up your mind! Do you like the fact that your pet gorilla is involved in this underground fighting business or not?"

"It's not a matter of liking it or not!," She gestures, almost hitting and knocking over the acetone bottle on the table. "It's a matter of-"

CLANG!

Tomori jumps in fright at the loud sound coming from the phone; squeaky and kind of resonant, it sounded like someone had dropped something metallic and heavy on the floor. She curses under her breath when she sees that she's ruined the nail polish on her thumb and leans towards her phone, her heart a little racing.

"Kanny? Is everything okay there?"

"Aah- oh, fuck-"

"Kanami!"

"I'm- I'm here!," Kanami finally answers, sounding agitated. "Sorry, it was- it was Medeyami! He climbed onto the counter and knocked over one of the pans I had left drying on the drying rack!"

"Oooh..." Tomori frowns. She was hearing sounds other than Kanami's voice... and it didn't seem to be cat sounds. It sounded more like raspy breathing, but over the hissing of the phone it was hard to be sure. "Alright then, if you say so..."

"Yeah! Anyway, w-what were you saying?"

"I was saying that it's not a matter of liking it or not. It's a matter of wanting to understand in depth how this backstage league works. If it's really something serious, or even dangerous..."

"Look, if it's an underground thing, it probably is..."

"I know, but to what extent? What do these people deal with besides fights and the probable bets they make on them?," Tomori wonders. "It's kinda hard to believe that nice guys like them are part of something like that…"

"Uh… well…," Kanami suddenly sounds hesitant. "I think we shouldn't rush and judge these guys' character just because of these things."

"... No, wait," Tomori frowns. "Weren't you the one who said it was complicated to know these things only after having already forgiven Naoh?"

"Yeah… well, I said that, but I think the scare that Medey gave me helped to clear my head a little, haha," She jokes. "We don't know the situation these guys are in, do we? What made them agree to get into something like that and all... better not jump to conclusions."

"I know, but... but what if it's those underground fight clubs that don't even care about the lives of the fighters themselves?," She asks anxiously. "Where things like death happen and it’s not rare…"

"Look, Tomori, your gorilla is an idiot, but I think even he would have a lot more sense than that," Kanami comments, and Tomori hears more metallic sounds echoing. "Can you imagine if a public fighter like him had a homicide weighing on his record? Just think of the tremendous mess this would make if it came out public!"

"Yeah, I know… his reputation would never recover," She nods with another sigh. "But I prefer to think that he'd avoid this kinda thing because he wants to do the right thing, and not just because he wants to avoid the possible repercussions."

"You and I would prefer it, right? But I honestly... uuh..."

"What?," She frowns even more when Kanami seems to hesitate more. "Kanny?"

"Uur... lo- look, why don't you talk about it with him?," Kanami suddenly asks. "I know you already did last week, but it was a very quick conversation, wasn't it? You didn't get a chance to delve into the questions."

"It's hard to delve into it when all he's doing is giving vague answers or seducing me to distract me!"

"And you don't fall for that, do you?"

"… Not the first two times."

"Hussy."

"Shut up!," Tomori puffs her cheeks while her friend laughs, "Seriously, he's better at this than I thought! But to be fair, he answered all my questions, despite being uncomfortable. But that feeling that there's more to it just won't go away..."

There is silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. Tomori didn't even hear the metallic sound of the pans. Kanami then sighs.

"Damn, maybe I didn’t choose a good time to give you all a vacation. You could talk in the bakery, a safe environment with witnesses, if it was still open."

"Kanny, I've been alone with him several times and none of those times I felt in danger. None. We're past that stage, c'mon..."

"I know, that's not what I'm talking about. It's just that I thought that, in such an environment, he might be more inclined to be honest. Y'know?," She gives a low laugh. "With it being under my jurisdiction and all. He's afraid of me after all..."

Tomori ends up laughing, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging her knees.

"That's a good idea, but I don't want to make him feel cornered. I can see he doesn't like it. I want him to open up to me because he wants to, you know...," She thinks a little before continuing. "Do you think Rihito, Himuro and Kaneda would tell me anything if I asked?"

"I don't think so, Tomori. If Okubo has decided he doesn't want to go into detail, I don't see those three going over his head. They seem to be very loyal to each other," Kanami comments. "You'll have to talk him into it with him yourself. But if he doesn't like feeling cornered..."

"What do you suggest?"

"I don't know… make the environment very comfortable, maybe? One where he doesn't feel trapped or pressured. And to show him that... well, would you end things with him, depending on his answer?"

“I… oh, I don't know! I mean, he didn't give up on me, even after knowing what a crazy bitch I used to be..."

“Girl, a rebellious teenage phase isn't the same as getting involved in underground fight clubs."

"I know. I'm talking more about acceptance. If he only fights in this league and nothing else... maybe it'll be easier for me to accept it. Maybe," She concludes.

"Okay... continuing my reasoning then. If you put him at ease and show him that you want to know his world as a whole, not just the nice parts of it, he might be more inclined to open up to you."

"You think so?"

"Well, if you've managed to communicate well so far… just keep your phone ready in case things get a little out of hand," Her tone became threatening, and it was hard to tell if she was joking or not. "I still haven't come to terms with being underestimated by him, and an excuse to punch him in the face again is all I need."

Tomori laughs again. Kanami wouldn't be satisfied until she had a rematch with Okubo, would she? She didn't become a professional fighter only because she didn't want to, indeed...

“I'll keep that in mind, but I don't think I'll need it. I'll follow your advice, see if I can call him at home to talk..."

"At home? Wouldn't you rather talk in a public place?"

"In a public place it would be difficult for the conversation to end up in bed afterwards."

"... I said it and I'll say it again: hussy.

"Proudly!," Tomori makes a kissing sound, laughing afterwards. "Thanks for listening to me, Kanny. I needed to get these things out."

"That's what I'm here for, Tomoh. Let me know how's everything going, okay? Now I need to hang up. It's dinner time. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight! Have a nice meal."

The call ends, and Tomori sighs as she takes another cotton pad, wetting it with acetone to correct the mistake she made on her thumbnail. She had spent all those days brooding over her doubts and fears, but after a good talk with Kanami, she felt much more confident.

She would talk to Okubo and clear things up with him. Good thing she had Kanami in her life to calm her anxieties and bring out her more determined side...

And meanwhile, at Kanami's house, a few kilometers away, the baker placed her phone on the marble countertop of her professional kitchen, also sighing heavily. She casts a half-scowl at her companion over her shoulder.

"Okay, I dropped the conversation and let her and Okubo settle everything themselves. You can stop signing at me now."

Ohma sighs and hugs his girlfriend by the shoulders. "It's better this way, Kana. I only showed you the Kengan matches because… there was no better way to show you what I do."

"I know. And also because if shit hits the fan, I have a better chance of protecting myself if you're not around to help. But that's not her case," Kanami nods, leaning against him. "It's just that I don't like to hide things from my friend, Ohma. Especially when the guy she likes is part of that same world..."

"Well, if shit hits the fan, she'll have you, who will go hell and beyond to help her," he smiles in the corner. "And well, all the other idiots will help too, and I will… she's not alone in this. Neither are you."

She smiles, closing her eyes and touching his hands on her shoulders.

"And I thank you every day for that," She takes his hand, bringing it to her lips, and kisses the callused knuckles of his fingers. "But look… that girl is stubborn. She won't give up. That gorilla better brace himself."

"Well, she needs to be, if she's working at that bakery as one of the chefs… and with me as a customer," He looks at the pan. "Is dinner ready yet?"

"Yes it is! It's a good thing the pan you dropped was empty, otherwise you'd have to wait even longer," She caresses his face before rubbing her hands. "Come on, I have two cats to feed!"

She leads the way into the kitchen, Ohma and Medeyami at her heels, both happy and excited, each in their own way. She smiles to herself. She now always had to cook twice as much, but that was a small price to pay when the benefit was his company.

* * *

“… And when Rihito and I got back to shore, our swimming trunks were gone for good."

"Really? Just like that?"

"You can understand how confused we were, even more so 'cause we were drunk! We thought Himuro and Kaneda were messing with us at first, but after they swore they didn't know anything, the two of us went looking for our trunks along the lake shore."

"But weren't you naked?"

“Well… it kinda didn't cross our minds. We remembered this detail only when an old couple pointed us to the police. The old man was covering his wife's eyes and everything."

Tomori laughs out loud as she pulls her keys out of her purse, opening the front door while Okubo shakes the umbrella on the porch to get rid of excess rainwater. Not that it made much difference; the two of them were already a little wet after running out of the rain after a few hours of baseball batting and pitching, so they would end up getting the hallway wet anyway.

But the truth is, none of them cared much. Wet floors could be easily mopped. The memories of that day made the small inconvenience worth it.

"Jeez, how many times have you guys ended up in a police station because of these crazy stunts you pulled?," She asks as they enter. Okubo has to think a bit before he can answer.

"About three times? Four? I don't know, we stopped keeping tabs."

"Well, they say men lose some I.Q. when they're partying with their best friends..."

"If you include booze in this account, our I.Q. drops to room temperature," He jokes, smiling awkwardly when she laughs again. "I'm relieved you're not giving me a hard time, but at the same time I'm kinda lost for the same reason..."

"Seriously, you have to stop expecting a violent reaction from me regarding your drunken adventures," She shakes her head. "Of course I don't approve, but I don't have room to judge either. If I were to tell you half of the crazy stuff Akane and I got up to..."

"I think we'd be here in the hall all afternoon, right?," He laughs too, hanging the umbrella on the coat rack next to the door and bending down to remove his shoes. "I prefer to do this in the warmth of your living room. Better sit down to hear about your escapades, otherwise my legs won't take it."

"Yeah, I think I would be pushing your tired legs too hard..."

"Are you calling me old again? You really don't learn, do you, tyou freakin' Armrest? Come here!," He makes a move to grab her, to which she gives a high-pitched squeal and runs down the hall, laughing derisively.

"Come after me if your legs can handle it, Bigfoot!"

And he goes happily, starting a little chase around her living room, which ends with him grabbing her in mid-air when she tries to jump over the back of the sofa to escape his arms. And consequently, he lost his balance, both of them landing on the floor and taking the couch with them.

"Holy crap!"

"Ouch! Damn, I fell on top of you...," She laughs, a little out of breath, while prostrated on Okubo's chest while his legs were in the air, resting on the back of the overturned sofa. "Sorry about that."

"Nah, that's fine, you're light as a loaf of bread," He smiles. "And that wasn't my worst fall, to be honest."

"Was the worst one when Pochi destroyed your pants?

"No. It was when I fell for you..."

"Oh- oooh, my gooood...!," She hides her face in his chest with a moan, blushing and laughing. "That one was so bad, damn it…"

"And I keep falling over and over, like now. Good thing you came with me, then I don't feel so alone," He coos, hugging her, and she screams again as he starts rolling on the floor with her.

"Aaah! I'm glad for that, but do I have to roll around on the floor with you like an armadillo for this to continue?"

"Just for a few minutes, to reinforce the message!"

"That feels like one of your grappling techniques! You're handling me like an opponent in the octagon!"

"Yes, but I do it with all the care in the word, see? Muaah!," And he kisses the area just below her ear, making her laugh and shake herself all over.

"Nooo...!"

"Say 'uncle'!"

"Uuugh...! You're the one who's gonna say that!," And she manages to free her arms to shove her hands under his armpits, and it’s his turn to squeal and laugh.

"Aaahahaha, that- that's a low blow!"

"You started it, now deal with it!"

"Not a chance, you...! Oooh...," And his growl is interrupted by a hoarse and weak sound, caused by the smacking kiss that Tomori placed on his neck. She doles out more of them, using her tongue now, smiling when she manages to get that yearning sound out of his throat again.

"So... do you give up? Or do you want more?"

He lifts his head slowly, his eyes half-closed and dark, and she shivers.

"I want more... preferably in a more comfortable place, so I don't hurt my back like that..."

She laughs and leans down, touching his mouth with hers, and he reciprocates as he closes his eyes and rests his hands on the sides of her hips, letting her stay there, on top of him. It gave her a very exhilarating feeling of being in control, dictating the pace of things, the man beneath her accepting the submissive position so willingly...

“Makes me wanna ride him in other ways too...”

The thought has her biting her bottom lip in excitement…or biting his bottom lip, for that matter, since they were still kissing. Okubo shudders and grunts beneath her.

"Hnnn...! Jeez, aren't we being aggressive today...," He tightens his hips more. "To think that such a cute little thing has sharp fangs..."

"Every cute little thing does. We only show them at the opportune times," She murmurs against his mouth, batting her eyelashes slowly "Do you like it?"

"A lot..."

"Then I can show you more… my bed is much more comfortable than a sofa back, after all."

She smiled, waiting for his response. But she's surprised when his lecherous expression dies as soon as she's finished speaking, his eyes widening and his smile fading, looking more like a nervous grimace.

"Uh… look, I don't doubt it at all, but… don't you think we'd better dry off first? I don't want you to catch a cold, you know."

"A cold… in the summer?," She blinks, and he turns a little red.

“Yeah… I mean, these damned viruses don't pick a time of the year to attack, you know?," He laughs, a bit embarrassed. "W- What do you think about drying off first? Maybe you want to... I don't know, take a bath?," He suggests, smiling nervously.

Tomori blinks again. And then she gives him a smirk.

"Oooh, I got it now… what a way to invite yourself to my bathroom, huh," She jokes. "I'm up for it, but I’ll warn you that my bathtub is small."

"Uuh… I- I was talking only about you, actually," He looks away for a moment. "A hot bath to get rid of the cold, especially in your hair… I'll settle for a towel, there's not much to wipe off besides that, hahaha."

He laughed now, but Tomori only manages to get even more confused. Was it just her, or did he seem... afraid of something?

"Ooh...okay then...?," She rests her hands on the ground and slowly stands up, reaching her right hand to him next. "I thought you wanted to take a bath with me."

"I'd love to, but I don't think I fit in your bathtub. Maybe if we went to a love hotel and rented a suite..."

"Another love hotel? Why, if everything you have here is free, including the food? Which is even better, modesty aside," She jokes while he accepts her hand and stands up slowly, moaning softly. He smiles as he bends over to pick up the fallen sofa.

"I don't disagree, but there are times when you get tired of having to cook every night, right? Even cooks of your caliber deserve a break from time to time..."

"That's the thing, I'm already on a break," She shrugs. "Until the middle of next month. Cooking for just the two of us isn't too much work. And even with these vacations being paid, the money won't last if I eat out all the time..."

"It will last if you are more receptive to my chivalry…"

"Naoya, no…," She sighs heavily. "Seriously, what's with all that insistence on wanting to take me to a love hotel, huh? If you're worried about my bed, I guarantee it's not that small."

He looks at her over his shoulder, opening his mouth as if he wants to argue. But he seems to think better of it, pouting as he straightens the rug after straightening the couch.

"I already told you, I don't doubt it..."

"So what's the problem?"

He doesn't answer, his shoulders a little tense. Tomori frowns, eyeing the back of his head suspiciously.

Ever since that night after the celebratory party at the bakery, he'd always insisted on taking her to a love hotel when they wanted to be somewhere more private and cozy. The first few times, she loved the treatment. She still liked it a lot, actually. But...

Seriously, was there something wrong with her house? He had refused to come there to spend the night with her that first time, and now he was despondent, wanting to leave again when they had barely arrived. And with him still refusing to answer like that...

She hoped it wasn't going to become a habit with him. Hiding things, making lame excuses, acting suspiciously…just like he had been acting last week, refusing to explain the reasons behind that hideous bruise.

That was one of the reasons why Tomori had invited him to dinner at her house after the two had enjoyed a date that had been interrupted because of the rain. After her call with Kanami, she had decided that she wanted - no, that she needed to inquire further, to get to the bottom of that backstage league thing. Even with that voice in her head telling her that she was sticking her nose where it shouldn't be, that if she dived too deep she might not surface, she felt she would have no peace of mind until she understood what she had gotten herself into by falling in love with him.

Her home environment seemed perfect to set the mood, make him relaxed and more likely to loosen his tongue, and if to achieve that she needed to take him to bed, why not? It wasn't like she didn't want to either. It was basically combining business with pleasure.

Only there would be no way her plans could come to fruition if he didn't cooperate and kept behaving in that strange way! She puts her hands on her hips.

"I asked you a question..."

"I know. It's just that I really don't know how to answer it," He gestures a little. "It's not really an insistence, it's more a… preference?," It sounded more like a question than a confirmation. Tomori arches an eyebrow.

"Preference for what?"

"Uuh... for beds that don't let my feet hang out? I got used to it, haha...," He scratches the back of his head, smiling awkwardly. And again, she doesn't feel convinced.

"Naoh… do you have a problem with my house?"

"Wha- no! I have no problem with it, I told you that!," He assures, agitated. She frowns.

“It's hard to believe, with all that refusal to stay here more than a few hours before wanting to take me somewhere else. You never even slept here..."

"If- If I sleep in your bed, you’ll hardly fit in it with me," He argues, again avoiding her eyes. "And I’ll have a backache if I sleep on the sofa… not that there is a problem with the sofa also, it's nothing like that!"

Tomori sighs, shaking her head. It's always the same excuses...

“Look, why don't we get to the bottom of this?," She suggests, indicating the stairs with a hand gesture. "Come on, I'll take you to my room."

Okubo blinks. And then his eyes widen like they're about to fall out of their sockets.

“Uh… what? No, you don't need to-"

"Yes I do. I want you to see for yourself," She marches decisively towards the stairs, calling him with an index finger. "Come on, don't play coy. And besides, I doubt you don't want to know my room, sit on my bed..."

He remains locked in place, hesitating. Tomori glances at him over her shoulder, seeing him glance down the hall to the front door. Like he was planning his own escape or something...

Seriously, what the hell was his problem? Why was he acting like that? Confusion and frustration made her gesture more insistently.

"Come on, stop dragging your feet! You will see with your own eyes how that bed is big enough for you..."

She starts to climb the stairs, and after a few seconds, she heard the sound of his footsteps, slower and heavier, accompanying her. Fucking finally! It even looked like he was afraid of being eaten alive by her or something...

“That isn't a bad idea, you know...”

She smiles to herself despite all the confusion. She goes to the door of her room, opening it at the same time that she hears him swallowing in the back.

"Ur... Tomori..."

"Here, you can go in first," She invites, indicating the door. He shakes his head.

"Tomori, there's... there's something I need to tell you..."

"You can say whatever it is inside, in the warmth of my bed."

"Well…," He plays with his fingers. "About that… I kinda-"

"Seriously, with all those excuses, it's hard to believe that there's nothing wrong with my house," she murmurs, pouting, as he quickly shakes his hands.

"And there isn’t! That's not the issue..."

"What is it then? Are you worried about a room that is too 'girlish' and that it will ruin the mood?," She asks, half mockingly, while opening the door wide. "Well, go right in and see for yourself that there is nothing to worry about, big guy."

She steps to the side, clearing the way and allowing him a good view of the interior of her room, staring at him with an arched brow.

"See? An absolutely normal room, don't you think?"

Okubo doesn't answer. He was staring into her room with an astonished expression that was definitely not what Tomori was expecting to see. She furrows her brows.

"What?," She asks, looking around her room, at the walls, the desk, the bed and everything else, looking for something that was out of place. Everything looked normal...

"But…," He says suddenly, looking from one side to the other inside the room, seeming to look for something. "But where are the…?"

Tomori stares at him, her stomach dropping a little, her mouth opening and eyes widening.

“The… the what?”

He doesn't answer again, staring at the walls of her room, looking dumbfounded.

The completely empty walls of her room. Clean, smooth walls. And finally, Tomori understood.

"... You saw it, didn't you?"

"Uh..."

"The posters."

This time he looks at her. And his alarmed, guilty expression was all the answer Tomori needed.

"You did!," She couldn't stop herself from raising her voice, screeching in her indignation, her left fist clenching as she pointed at him with her right index finger, which was shaking with rage. "You entered my room?"

"I- I...!"

"Without my permission?!"

"I- I didn't!," He swears, all cowering and scared, taking two clumsy steps backwards. "I- I just… opened the door and turned on the light? Yeah, it was- it was just that..."

"When?!"

"The- The first time I came here... that night you cooked ginger pork..."

"So that's why it took you so long to get down the stairs!," She notes, feeling her face burn with anger and mortification. Holy shit, holy shit! He had seen the posters, he had seen that so private and so embarrassing little piece of her life, she didn't know where to hide her face...! "Damn it, Naoya!"

"S-Sorry! I didn't want to-"

"Did you touch something?"

"No! I didn't touch anything, I didn't even enter the room!"

"You're lying!"

"I'm not! I swear on my championship belt, I didn't touch a single pillow!," He assures, and his tone was pleading, his expression terrified. She snorts, trying to quell the surge of pity that seizes her.

“Is that why you took so long that day? Were you looking for my room to snoop on?"

"No, I wasn't! I was just looking for the bathroom, then I mistook the first door and saw the crafts room," He swears, and Tomori grinds her teeth, opening and closing her fists.

"You also opened my bedroom door thinking it was the bathroom door?"

He opens his mouth quickly to respond, but no sound comes out for a few seconds. And then he closes it, swallowing hard and looking as mortified as she does.

"... No. I got the bathroom door right on the second try."

She puts her right hand over her face, breathing hard, her left hand itching to do something she hasn't done in years: slap someone. And there came her violent tendencies..."

"Then you couldn’t handle the curiosity and decided to snoop on my room? You pervert...!"

"Sorry. I know it was wrong, I know, I shouldn't have done that," He admits, and Tomori tries not to get too attached to the fact that he's sounding completely sincere. "But I… I saw the posters in your living room, all those fighters, some I even knew personally staring at me, and... and I decided I needed to see it before..."

"Before what?"

He swallows hard, now looking even redder than she should be.

“Well, I… I thought that since you invited me over to your house for dinner and all… I thought we were going to…”

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to. If Tomori had been a little more cruel, she would have laughed in his face mercilessly...

... But then she would be being a hypocrite, because those had also been her intentions that night. She wanted to seduce him, take him to her room after dinner... until she remembered the posters.

Fucking hell, the posters… she wanted to lie down on the bed, bury her face in the pillow and scream until she lost her voice.

"Tomori...?," He calls in a whimper, his voice coming out fragile. Tomori puts both hands in her face this time.

"Uuugh...! That's why you always refuse to do anything here in my house, right?"

"… Can you blame me for that?"

"I can blame you for sticking your nose in what is none of your business!"

"I...! Okay, fair enough, but...," He gestures again, perplexed. "Holy shit, you couldn't expect that I'd want to have sex in a room that had posters of muscular and sweaty dudes up to the fucking ceiling!"

"I didn't expect it, dumbass! I remembered that same night about the posters and made an excuse that I was too tired to do anything else!," She gestures too, her face burning with embarrassment. "That same weekend I spent hours taking down all the posters from the walls because I knew you would never get comfortable with a view like that."

"I... wait, then...!," He widens his eyes, returning to stare at the empty and clean walls of the room. "Did you get rid of the posters because of me? Really?"

His relieved astonishment, not surprisingly, only made her more upset.

"I didn't get rid of anything. I kept most of the posters in folders, and the ones that didn't fit went to my crafts room. Did you really think I was going to get rid of a part of my life just to please you?"

He turns to her again, a little startled, and flinches once more.

"No... I mean... I'd never ask you to do something like that..."

“But you were still relieved when you thought I'd done it."

"Don't put words in my mouth, c'mon," He sighs heavily. "I was just relieved that I didn't have to look at all those men and imagine all of them staring at my naked ass..."

She had to bite her mouth to keep from laughing. She didn't want to laugh when she was mad at him, damn it!

"In that case, are you going to ask me to get rid of the posters in the living room too?"

"Hey, hey, I didn't ask you for anything! You took the posters down because you wanted to!," He points to her, now sounding a little annoyed. "I already told you, it's your house and you can decorate it however you want. But..."

"But what?"

“But you can't expect me to gloss over my discomfort with these things. I'd never ask you to do the same for me," He puts his hands in his pants pockets, looking to the side. Tomori feels a small flare of remorse, but she immediately suppresses it.

“Hey, don't try to paint me as the one in the wrong here! You entered my room without my permission!"

"I'm not! I know I'm the one who's wrong! But-"

"Oh, enough of that! I'm already getting a headache," She grunts, massaging her temples with her fingers, her eyes tightly closed. "Look, I'm going to take the bath you suggested, to see if I can cool down a bit."

"... Do you want me to leave?," He asks in an unhappy but resigned tone. Tomori wanted to say yes, but the needy, softie side of her stopped her. She sighs.

"No I don't. We have to talk seriously about this. Until then, I'll be in the bathroom. And you!," She points at him menacingly. "Don't enter my room in the meantime!"

"I won't! Fuck, I've already learned my lesson...," He mumbles, sulking, walking out the door, his head down. Tomori watches him walk away down the hall, a little wary, before allowing herself to let her guard down and take a deep breath, running a hand over her face.

That was an invasion of privacy and she should be mad at him for it. She kinda was, actually. You had to be really perverted to want to peek into a girl's room behind her back...

Or an insecure, slightly jealous idiot. He had said he hadn't touched anything, that he hadn't even gone in, had he? She saw no reason to doubt it. But it also didn't mean that it had been right and that she had to suck it up!

Tomori shakes her head, deciding that she wasn't going to think about it any more for the time being, or she'd end up pissed off more. She heads straight for the bathroom, but not before locking the bedroom door behind her. She believed him when he said he wouldn't go in there without her permission again, but having that privilege revoked for the moment was a well-deserved punishment for him.

Once inside the bathroom, she busies herself with bath preparations so she doesn't have to overthink infuriating things. She adjusts the bathub's controls, programming it to fill with hot water, then she sheds her wet clothes from the rain. All this while huffing to herself.

"Dumbass... stupid, stupid gorilla... what was he thinking?," She mutters as she sits on the stool next to the bathtub and turns on the shower. "That I was going to cheat on him with those posters or something? Fuckin' pervert..."

She washes herself, scrubbing her body and hair, the hot water from the shower relaxing her muscles and slowly easing her anger. But hearing her own voice echoing in the bathroom as she continued to mutter was being a good distraction, so she continued.

"He could've said something... he could've admitted it from the beginning, but no, he kept it all to himself...," She puts shampoo in her hand and vigorously washes her hair, eyes closed. "And there's no reason for me to be ashamed, the posters are mine and I do whatever I want with them! If I want to put them in the bathroom, I will and- blargh!," She spits out, coughing, as a mouthful of foam enters her mouth. "Uuugh, was that- was that karma? It's not me who deserves this! Dammit..."

She closes her eyes, picking up the shower and rinsing her hair, that soapy taste still in her mouth. She sniffs a little.

"If I looked crazy before, imagine now..."

There was only the echo of her voice, bouncing off the bathroom tiles, to agree with her.

She finishes washing up, ties her hair in a loose bun and climbs into the tub, sighing as the hot water envelops her. And with that, it seemed that her anger was dissolving along with the steam that came out of the bathtub. She sinks until she's only half face out, her breath making bubbles burst to the surface.

Perhaps she had overreacted...? No, dammit, it hadn't been right and that was it! He had to understand that. Even if they had already slept together, their relationship still needed more maturation for them to have that level of intimacy...

And she thought these things after planning to take him to her bedroom so she could ride him. She laughs at the irony of it, even swallowing some water from the bathtub. She was still coughing when there was a knock on the door.

"Tomori..."

She immediately sits up straighter in the tub, alert. His voice came in a little muffled, sounding low and hesitant. He hadn't yet entered, but she instinctively ducked into the water to hide her nakedness.

"Tomoooh..."

She sighs. "What is it? I told you to wait for me while I take a bath..."

"I know, but…," He pauses for a second before continuing, his voice becoming louder, clearer. "But I can't stand being like this with you. The two of us being mad at each other… I don't want this to keep happening, over and over again."

"Me neither. But it gets complicated when these blunders keep happening, one after the other," Tomori hugs her own knees. "First the backstage league thing, and now this…"

There is resounding silence on the other side. It lasts so long that Tomori wonders if he's moved away from the door. And when she opens her mouth to call out to him, she's interrupted by a deep, tired breath.

"Uuugh… can I come in? Please. I want to talk. Calmly."

Tomori hugs her knees tighter. She then groans, sinking back into the tub.

"Okay then. It's not like you haven't seen it all already, anyway."

She hears the door open. She waits for him to enter the bathtub area, but it takes a little longer than expected. And when he finally appears in the doorway, he's wearing nothing but pants, his chest exposed. Tomori blinks.

"Okay… what's up with that?"

"Uh... my shirt was already wet, so I combined business with pleasure," He shrugs. Tomori looks him up and down.

"Wait, do you want to take a bath too? I'd have to get out of the tub..."

"No need, I don't intend to take a bath now."

"Or I could sit on your lap. It's tight, but it fits."

"…Okay, I changed my mind. Let’s wash this stench off!," He starts to unbutton his pants, and she waves her hands quickly, a little red.

"Wait, wait, I was kidding! I'm still a little pissed, if you get in the bathtub I might try to drown you!"

He laughs low, walking over and sitting down on the side of the tub.

"It would be fun to see you try to do that in that tiny bathtub. Only if I lay down on it and you sat on my face to suffocate me."

"The way you say it, it doesn't even seem like a bad way to die..."

"And it's not! I'd leave this world as a fulfilled man."

Tomori can't resist, laughing a little. That way, it was easy to forget that she was angry. Or that she wanted to remain angry, at least a little longer.

"Nah, I would just do it in a way that would leave you alive and with lots of good memories for the days when I can't sleep with you... but I guess that's not what you came to talk about, right?," She looks sideways at him, and Okubo nods slowly.

"As much as I like this conversation, no, it’s not," He bends one knee, bringing it closer to his chest. "I wanted to explain myself..."

Tomori rests the back of her neck on the edge of the tub, closing her eyes.

"There's nothing to explain. You were unsure about the posters in the living room, so you decided to investigate if there were more in my room."

"Not exactly…," He scratches his scalp. "You always do that, have you noticed?"

"What?"

"Drawing the worst conclusions before letting me explain my point. This isn't the first time," He looks sideways at her with a frown. "Can you hear me out before you start assuming things?"

Tomori frowns, wanting to open her mouth to retort, but nothing seems to want to come out of it. She huffs, looking away.

"Alright, fine. Spit it out. Not that it changes anything..."

"Thanks. Anyway...," His hand migrates to the back of his neck, his mouth tightening with discomfort. "When I was in the bathroom washing my hands, I got a message from the guys. They knew I was here with you, so... they started making jokes..."

"Men…," She rolls her eyes a little, to which he blushes.

"It was nothing inapropriate or disrespectful to you! It was more like mockering and wondering how I was going to manage to do what I had to do in a very… feminine room," He gestures with one hand. "They talked about plushies and everything… and then I felt anxious and I thought that I... I don't know... that I should at least check before anything happened..."

Tomori turns to him, blinking. And she didn't know if it was the information or his mortified face (probably a combination of the two) that provoked her next reaction. All she knew was that she had burst out laughing, even gulping down yet another mouthful of water.

"Blaghblubblu... bluhahahaha!," She coughs and laughs out loud at the same time. "My- my gohohohod...!"

"Come on now…," He mutters, pouting. "It’s not that funny…"

"Of course it is! Was that- was that your biggest concern?," She asks, leaning towards him as she leans on the edge of the bathtub, smirking. "That I had a squadron of Hello Kitty plushies, teddy bears, dolls and stuffed animals ready to judge us for premarital intercourse?"

"Quit it! Have you ever tried to do something naughty with those little plastic eyes staring at you?!," He asks indignantly, now almost purple with embarrassment. "It's like you're deflowering something too pure and innocent for this world…"

"And that would have prevented you from doing the deed with me?," She arches an eyebrow, smiling widely. Okubo pouted, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"No. But the posters…," He groans, tilting his head back. "Holy shit, Tomori, I know a lot of those guys personally. There was no way I could do anything there, as much as I wanted to!"

"I know. I wouldn't have asked you that," She shakes her head. "But none of that justifies you invading my privacy like that."

"I know, it's my fault and there's nothing to discuss," He runs a hand over his face, a little tired. "But please, try to see my point. It's a little complicated for me to look at all this and know that..."

"Know that what?," she insists, feeling suddenly sick with anticipation. He looks away, apparently unable to meet her eyes.

"... That I'm just one more amongst all of them..."

Tomori stares at him, unable to say anything for a few seconds, stunned, her stomach plummeting in sudden understanding. Oh, fuck...

"Wait… are you jealous of Mr. Seki, Gaolang and all the other fighters I'm a fan of? Seriously?”

"I… ugh, I know it's ridiculous, childish and that shit!," He grunts, rubbing his eyes. "And that's why I never said anything. I have no right to demand to be the only idol in your life or anything like that, and I shouldn't even want to. Holy shit, you must think I'm an idiot."

Tomori runs her tongue over her lips, biting them, staring at her own knees before answering:

"Yeah, I do think you're an idiot."

Okubo flinches, breathing hard afterwards.

“I knew I should've kept my mouth shut. I'm a fucking loudmouth-"

"You're an idiot for thinking you're still just one more among them all."

That silenced him, and for that Tomori was grateful. He stares at her, wide-eyed, his jaw a little slack.

"Uhhhh… I don't think so, not like that! It's more a matter of..."

"A matter of being one more idol among so many others, right?," She completes the sentence for him, nodding slowly. "I understand. But after everything we've been through together, do you still think I can look at you the same way I look at all of them?"

He stares at her, not seeming to know how to respond. But his cheeks were filling with color, a rosy shade she knew well.

"I…," His voice breaks, and he clears his throat, a fist in front of his mouth. "I don't know, I… sometimes I look at the posters of all those guys, especially Gaolang, and I feel like I'm no match..."

"You're kidding, right? I'm sure you can defeat, like, ninety-eight percent of them."

"No, not in that sense. It's just that Gaolang and several of them are fucking pretty boys, while I...," He indicates his own face with a gesture of his hand, all embarrassed. "Ugly guys like me always get insecure when they go out with girls that are as beautiful as you are. There is always that thought in my subconscious that you can do much better..."

"Naoya," She faces him with a hard expression. "You're offending me. First of all, you're not ugly."

"You're kinda biased," Okubo pouted. "It's normal to think that the guy you like is a hunk..."

“I didn't say that either."

"Damn, I know I screwed up, but do you need to roast me like that?!"

She laughs out loud, leaning back over the edge of the tub.

"Yes, I do. And second, do you really think that about me? Even after all this time? When did I hint that I would stop liking you the instant a better looking guy came along?"

"No… ugh, sorry if I gave you that impression," He runs a hand over the top of his head, embarrassed. "I know you wouldn't, Tomoh. I'm an insecure idiot. I always try to be the best so I can feel that I'm worthy of you. I even disrespected your privacy in the midst of these attempts..."

"Yep. That was unnecessary," She nods, closing her mouth. "But dammit… I wasn't expecting that. I was the one who used to think that you could do better than me, you know? What a role reversal..."

"Wait, really?," He blinks in astonishment. "But that doesn't make sense! I think you're wonderful, I've always thought that..."

“And I feel the same way about you. So, that's it," She shrugs, resting her hands on the edge of the bathtub and her chin on top of them. "You try to compete with my other idols, c'mon. They're a source of inspiration for me, just like you. That's one thing that will never change, so please don't ask me that."

"I won't. I promise," He nods, resigned. She looks at him for a few seconds before smiling tenderly.

“But one thing that's definitely changed is that while they're still up there, so far away from me, you're right here. By my side. Do you think I don't value this more than fan idolization?"

He looks at her sideways, hesitant, and she keeps the smile firmly on her face, hoping that's convincing enough. A hint of a smile appears at the corner of his mouth.

"With you making that face, it's pretty hard to."

"So keep looking at it and start thinking it's impossible," She lays her head down on her arms. "I already told you that, didn't I? I'd rather be with the guy whose hand I can hold than the guys who are too far away for me to reach."

"I know..."

"So don't put that distance between us like that, Naoya. Don't hide things from mewhile not admitting others. This is not how we can go forward."

"I know," He repeats, nodding slowly, his expression now much more placid. "And that goes for you too, ok? Don't always assume the worst of me, Tomori, please. It's as if everything I've done so far for you and myself was worthless. Talk to me if there's anything bothering you."

“I never said it was worthless. But…," She runs her tongue over her lips, and then nods. "Okay, I'll talk to you before jumping to conclusions. And please, do the same to me."

"Alright then. It's a deal."

"Yeah. Deal."

They smile at each other, Tomori feeling much lighter. There seemed to be no more room for anger there, in that steam-filled bathroom, and she wasn't going to try to bring it back with any more ridiculous arguments. If he'd learned his lesson, she would try to trust him. She just hoped he would do the same from now on.

"So…," He starts suddenly, after a few seconds of public silence. "Does this mean I'm forgiven or…?"

"Is this always going to be your default question after a 'DTR'?," She asks with a little laugh. "I forgive with two conditions."

"Oh, boy, here it comes… spit it out."

"First, I want to go to your apartment."

"Uh… is that all?," He blinks, surprised, but also looking relieved. "It didn't even have to be a condition. I already planned to invite you to spend a day there."

"That's good to know. And second...," She struggles to keep her eyes fixed on his. "I want you to take me to see that backstage league."

His smile dies as if she's given him bad news. He stares at her, astonished, before groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose with his index and thumb.

"Ugh... dammit, Tomori..."

"Yeah, I still haven't forgotten about that story."

"Yeah, I can tell! Ugh... I already explained to you why I don't think this is a good idea," He sighs, looking at her guiltily. "I'm worried that you'll get the attention of the wrong people. And this league is kinda full of them."

"I'll be safe if you're there with me," She insists, grabbing the edge of the bathtub. "I promise I won't leave your side."

"That's not the problem... what if it's during a match of mine?," He frowns, seriously. "Who's going to take care of you, huh?"

"Rihito, Himuro or Kaneda. They're part of that league too, right? I know they wouldn't mind," She says, anxiously. "And anyway, I'm not completely helpless. You know what I can do with a baseball bat in my hand."

Okubo laughs, his tone disbelieving.

"Would you go out beating the crap outta anyone who came to bother you then? There's something I'd pay to see, hahaha!"

"Here's your chance then!"

"If!," He raises a finger. "This was a league for any kind of people, where any random brawler can enter. There are guys at my level in this league. And several others that are far above me..."

"Above you?," She widens her eyes, kneeling in the bathtub and raising her body a little in excitement. "Really? Oooh, man, I have to see this!"

His expression in response to this is hilarious: he looked both alarmed at having further piqued her curiosity and quite absorbed at the sight of her wet, bare torso. Tomori can't help noticing this, smiling and bringing her arms together a little to squeeze her breasts between them.

"Pretty please?"

"Tomori..."

"I promise I'll make it up to you very well..."

"Hnnnnf...!," He shudders and puts a hand over his red face, trying desperately not to look at her chest. "You…! You're a demon, you know that? The cutest and hottest demon in the world..."

"I'm not a demon, how rude! I'm just a very devoted fan wanting to support her idol in every single of his works...," She makes a pout, to which he snorts.

"Oh, so now I'm your idol? Yeah, right! I won't take that bait... nooo...!," He moans when she leans out of the bathtub and hugs him by the neck, pressing her breasts against his face. "That's a low blow, damn it!"

"Please, Naoh. Just so I can have peace of mind."

"Mine is already gone by now! Grunf... holy shit, you smell so good...," He whimpers, pulling her out of the bathtub and burying his face between her breasts, and Tomori knew she had won. She smiles and pats his head.

“I promise I won't do anything to get attention. I just really want to understand what you're getting into... and what I'm getting into, indirectly. I still worry, you know."

"I know. Hnnn...," He makes a happy sound, both with her caresses and with the privileged place where his face was buried. "I... I can't promise you anything, Tomoh. This league has very strict rules, and it's... very selective with outside visitors. But I'll see what I can do, I swear."

She nods, resting the side of her face on top of his head.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. And now...," His hands held her by the hips, squeezing lightly as he raised his dark gray eyes to her, smiling insinuatingly. "Shall I take you to the bedroom now or wait for you to dry off?"

She laughs, touching the side of his jaw. "Let me at least dry off so I don't wet my whole bed."

"Why worry about it, if you're going to wet it anyway?"

"Naoya! My god, you...!," She squeals, blushing, but she can't help it and laughs again when he gives a few smacking kisses down her neck. "And you still say I'm the demon... not to mention that you forgot the posters very quickly, huh!"

"It's easy, knowing that they're no longer there, staring at me from the walls. And they can continue to be your idols, I don't care about that," He gets up from the floor and takes her along with him, eliciting a surprised little squeal from her. She turns even redder when he gives her a lascivious smile. "But this wonderful sight... ooh, I don't want to share it with anyone."

And as expected, Tomori doesn't resist, touching his face and bringing him in for a kiss, as he carries her in his arms to the bedroom.

She could put aside those issues for now, no problem. But he better not think he could make her forget about them for good. She was patient and understanding, but there was a limit to how many chances she was willing to give. And she hoped he wouldn't forget that either.

NEXT CHAPTER

#Kengan Ashura #Kengan Omega #kenganverse #fanfiction #Okubo Naoya #Naoya Okubo #okubo x oc #kengan oc #Tokita Ohma #cookies'n cream #the heavy bakery series

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captains-simp · 4 years ago

Text

Carol Danvers ~ Infuriating

Carol Danvers X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 8,016

Includes: dom!Carol, captain kink, brat taming, choking, degrading, fingering, edging, nipple clamps, clit clamp, thigh riding, spanking enhanced with powers, vibrator enhanced with powers, strap-on gagging and choking, strap-on sex and overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hadn't meant to fuck up Carol's mission. You weren't that petty. But the look on her face when you disobeyed her direct order and took the shot was priceless.

You and Carol had never gotten on. The first time you laid eyes on her you were infuriated by her actions. The second time you met only amplified that.

You had been under cover for a year when she came along and screwed up your mission. It had taken a long time to be trusted by those you 'worked with'.

You had set up a buy with a huge advanced (and crazy irresponsible) weapons smuggling ring that would lead to you obtaining more of their weapons for SHIELD until eventually, hopefully, you would figure out the secrets to their operation and be able to take down the business.

Just as the dealers arrived at the abandoned warehouse Carol came flying in to take on the armed men, oblivious to the mission that was happening, in all her heroic glory.

"We got the weapons, it was a success."

After writing out the report and having a long convosation with Fury (most of which involved you describing Carol in ways Steve would have been outraged by) you had at least expected an apology from the blonde. You could still remember how that went down.

"It was not a success!" You almost screamed at Carol. It infuriated you to no end that after half an hour of talking she still didn't see the bigger picture. She really thought she had done the right thing.

"Yes we got the weapons - something I could have done on my own - but that's such a small part of the rest of what they're making."

"You don't know how much there is." Carol said, her voice as calm as ever as she leant against Fury's desk with her arms crossed.

"That's the point." You said through gritted teeth, determined not to loose your cool infront of her and Fury. "My mission was to find out and put a stop to it."

"There are guys in holding. They'll talk."

You almost laughed at that. "If I could ask them my way they definitely would." You silently cursed SHIELD's moral codes that stopped you from torturing the answer out of them. They wouldn't talk any other way.

"They'll talk." Carol said stubbornly. "And anyway, you should be thanking me for cutting your mission short."

And that was it. From that moment on you couldn't look at the woman without wanting to slap her. That had been months ago.

Despite you never hiding your dislike for Carol she never seemed to mind you. In fact, she tried to be around any chance she could. Always looking for ways to get on your final nerve, everything she did she did for your reactions that you had grown worse at suppressing.

You took some of it out on her during training. It bothered her but thrilled you that you too were on the same level in combat. Apart from the times she was a sore looser and used her powers.

But you had made a strong effort to avoid training with her too. She taunted you during fighting. Although you were used to it it struck different when her body was pressed against yours to pin you to the floor.

Your most shameful day was when her actions had sent a jolt to your core that you couldn't deny.

Carol looked down at you with an insanely arrogant smirk as she straddled your waist. She was always like this in her moments of victory, always wanting to rub it in.

"Wow, you gave in quickly today." She quipped, not even trying to hide the obvious undertones. That didn't even make sense!

You weren't about to give in when she looked so god damn smug. You gripped her shirt with two hands and lifted your hips to flip her off but she caught on both too quickly and too late. She lurched forward into your grip but instantly pinned your hands above your head as her legs fell down next to yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realised her face was inches from your own, it was only then that you become aware of the darker specs of brown in her eyes that highlighted the lighter shades. They were beau- okay. They were okay eyes. Yours were better.

The corner of her mouth raised in her familiar smirk that you always despised. But being that close brought light to how soft her lips looked. They were slightly parted and you wondered what kind of things she could do with that mouth. Professional things of course. Strictly professional and tactical thing. Not sinful things at all...

You wanted those thoughts banished from your head immediately. You wanted to leave.

All too hastily, you tried to raise your hips again, only then noticing how Carol's new position had her core right over yours. The contact and friction was undeniable, as was the slow throbbing that started.

A quiet moan slipped from your mouth that you desperetly coughed to cover up. You turned your head to the side, not wanting to see if Carol had noticed.

"Get off me, Carol." You huffed, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"What? You don't like me ontop of you?" She smirked.

God you definetly did.

As much as you tried to ignore that memory and replace it with the time you were first introduced you rarely succeeded. And even then it was like your hatred for her only encouraged how much you wanted to feel her deep insi-

"Are you even listening to me?!" Carol yelled at you with a glare. You never zoned out during meetings. Carol knew that. Fury knew that. Yet it was still very clear you just had.

"Are you done rambling?" You quipped, not having a moment to place the filter over your mouth as the thought spilled out.

Fury arched a brow at the question and Carol's jaw clenched in an annoyingly attractive way. You did not regret that one bit.

"If I hadn't taken the shot the hostages would have died."

"They almost did anyway."

"Almost."

There had been some sort of detonator with the man holding the hostages. Once dead, the storage he had loaded into his truck had been destroyed and nothing was salvageable. That was important cargo, but you always put a priority on lives. Taking the bad ones more than saving the good ones admittedly.

Once a vigilante always a vigilante.

"I don't think you understand how valuable that cargo was."

The meeting continued like that for a while. You would never admit it to anyone, especially as fucking up the mission wasn't intentional, but seeing how the tables had turned from the last time the three of you were in that office? It made you happier than it should have.

You guessed the two of you were even now. Maybe she would finally leave you alone. Your happiness faulted at that thought.

Finally, Fury told you and Carol to go and that it would be discussed again tomorrow. He was clearly tired. It had been a long day and it was late, everyone else was already asleep.

Even as you trudged down the hallway Carol continued to rant about your inability to follow orders. You would be the first to admit you weren't a team player. You still weren't used to it. But you always follow orders.

"I can follow orders, Captain. I just choose not to follow yours." You said calmly as approached the hallway towards your room.

You hated that Carol's room was next to yours. You had been there when Carol had talked to Tony about staying at the Avengers compound. You had seen her sly smirk as she pointed out on the compound map which room she wanted. Knowing full damn well it was next to yours.

How long did she plan to keep this up? You definetly didn't bug her about her screw up as long as she was you. Why couldn't she just hold the grudge in silence like you?

"You put aside personal matters when you go on a mission, y/n." She continue to scorn.

"Not personal, Captain. I just know when a decision and order is bullshit." Your room finally came into your line of sight. Just a few more meters.

"It wasn't bullshit. It was the right call. You just refuse to do what I tell you to." You rolled your eyes at her insistence, something that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

"The whole thing would have been fucked if I followed your orders. You should be thanking me." You taunted with a smile. But before you could fully bathe in your victory of getting under her skin, Carol gripped your neck tightly and slammed you into the wall.

You eyes widened as your back hit the wall painfully and you struggled to comprehend that Carol's hand was really around your neck...and you liked it.

"What? Got nothing to say to your Captain now?" She smirked. A familiar jolt travelled throughout your body and rested between your legs at her words.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Her hand, her words and the tone that accompanied them. You could always tell Carol was a top, but a dom?!

"If I could go back..." You started, your voice quiet with an edge of fear that made Carol preen. "And do the mission again...." Carol watched your face intently, awaiting your words of apology. "I still wouldn't follow your orders. Because I don't take orders from yo-" Carol stepped forward and forced one of her legs between yours.

You bit you lip to stop yourself moaning at the friction she was causing, the urge to grind against her leg was strong.

"Brat." She whispered with poison dripping from her voice. Her warm breath hit the small area of skin her hand wasn't covering and her hair tickled you chin.

"I have just the thing to deal with that. You wont be keeping up that facade for long."

You were about to object and assure her you would. That your stubbornness was just as strong as hers and you had been down this road before with others.

As she moved away from you she gripped your shirt in her closed fist and pulled you away from the wall with her. You hated that you instantly missed the contact of her thigh between yours. But her rough nature was doing it for you too. It had been so long since someone had been rough with you and you yearned to feel that again.

Carol had barely opened her door when she pushed you through the gap into her room. You were about to take in your surroundings and even pause to assess what was happening, but Carol's hands were on you again and all doubt slipped from your mind.

The next thing you knew your face was engulfed by soft pillows before you felt Carol's strong presence above you.

You could feel her knees on either side of your waist, pressed against you as though caging you beneath her. Her hands entwined with the back of your own and held them above your head under the pillows.

You went to move your hips up out of instinct from your training but Carol was too strong. She didn't even flinch from you efforts, clearly overpowering you in strength.

You reminded yourself you would not, under any circumstances, let Carol win.

You wouldn't apologise for the mission, wouldn't do what she said and you would not fully submit to her. It was something you truly believed, Carol knew this and it made everything you eventually did all the more worthit.

You could never imagine or anticipate the things you would let her do to you that night or the desperate way you would beg her to do them.

Her hair tickled your exposed neck as she leant down to whisper into your ear. "Anything you want to say to me before I begin? Perhaps an apology?" Carol questioned, knowing you would say no such thing but wanting to have more ammunition for later on.

You chuckled into the pillows before replying. "Go fuck yourself." It was muffled. But Carol understood.

She didn't reply verbally, instead she leant further against your body as her hands left yours and wandered down your arms.

Carol inhaled the scent around your neck as her hands reached your shoulders and decended to trace your collarbones that were visible from your shirt being lowered.

The blonde took her time memorizing every inch of your body, especially cupping your clothed breasts in her hands and ever so slightly grinding herself against you as she did so.

You reminded yourself to control your breathing as you felt those motions, not allowing yourself to be caught up in the firm grip of her hands against your breasts or the way she used your body to gain some friction to her core.

Her hands continued to massage your lower stomach, admiring the feel of your finally formed abs in a way she never could when you trained.

You kept your head amongst the pillows when her fingers danced around the waistband of your trousers. You didn't want Carol to see the anticipating look on your face at the touch of her fingers. They barely dipped half an inch beneath your trousers and panties but the contract gave you chills. You wanted to feel her against your bare skin more.

Carol retracted her fingers and instead wordlessly moved them to the centre of your trousers and unbuttoned them. You could hear her pull your zip down in the deafening silence of the room and you found yourself holding your breath in anticipation again.

She didn't hesitate once in her movements. With undeniable certainty, Carol slipped her hand under your trousers and panties to meet the space between your legs that welcomed her.

Carol sighed into the crook your neck as her fingers met your wetness between your slick lips. You bit your lip to stop any sounds escaping your mouth as the arrogant hero swiped a single finger slowly through your eager folds. She collected the arousal on her fingers before pressing it firmly to your clit.

Your hips rolled into her hand before you could stop them and the action caused a smug grin from Carol that although you couldn't see, you could feel against your skin. It was considerably worse and amplified your arousal as Carol could tell.

You hated feuling her ego. You hated that she had made you so wet your throbbing clit would slip around her fingers when she had barely touched you.

"Such a wet little brat. You're so ready for me and I've barely touched you." Carol husked as her finger continued to alter between running through your folds and rubbing your clit lightly.

It took every ounce of self control in your body not to squirm against her or make any noise. Your pride helped you keep those actions at bay.

Carol gripped your chin with her free hand and turned your head away from the pillow. You tried to avoid making eye contact with the blonde, knowing it would make your self control waver, but her hand continued to guide your line of sight to her enchanting gaze.

Her face was so close to yours you were completely caught off guard when Carol's finger pushed inside you and was engulfed by your lower lips with ease.

You bit your lip hard at the action, still staring into Carol's eyes and refusing to be the one to look away first. The intense eye contact did you no favours in holding off your verbal signs of arousal, especially when her single digit curled to brush your most pleasurable spot.

You gave a breathy moan when Carol held her finger against your g-spot for a long moment before withdrawing it, your eyes marginally widening as you adjusted to the pleasure, something Carol wouldn't have noticed if your faces weren't so close.

Her finger pushed back in at a slow pace but always stroked the back of your pussy in an angelic way.

You moaned louder when Carol returned with two fingers, the additional surface area made the experience all the more pleasurable and you feared how quickly you would cum.

Carol studied your facial expressions as she fingered you slowly, figuring out the spots that made you preen in pleasure the most and even the best angles to approach it.

It didn't take her long to understand the eb and flow of your pussy better than anyone ever had. With this powerful knowledge, Carol's pace suddenly increased in an overwhelming way you could barely adjust to.

She fucked you hard and fast with her fingers. Her wrist twisted in the most agile ways that caused her fingers to burry deep within you.

You moaned continuously as you stared into Carol's brown eyes you were beginning to remember better than your own.

The pleasure was immense and you knew your orgasm would hit you hard. Your breathing became rapid and your walls clenched down on Carol's fingers desperetly as your body prepared for your release.

Carol's fingers increased in pace as she gripped your chin harder, ensuring you look at her as her smirk finally returned.

Just as you were about to explode around Carol's fingers she retracted them from your throbbing pussy and brought them up to her lips as she grinned at you.

"Carol!" You protested in disbelief and annoyance.

"What? You didn't really think I would let you cum so soon did you? You haven't earned the right. Unless, of course, you'd like to make an apology." Carol said as her eyes bore deep into yours.

"Like hell I will." You groaned.

Carol clicked her tongue in disapproval before finally looking away from you. Her fingers returned to your waistband, only this time she pulled your trousers down swiftly, deliberately leaving your soaking panties clinging to you.

She then got off the bed and strolled confidently towards her walk in closet for a few seconds, returning with a few pieces of metal you weren't surprised to be seeing yet still gave you goosebumps. Carol's keen eyes seemed to notice this and she grinned knowingly to herself.

You shifted onto your side to get a clearer view of the devices attached to the long silver chain, once Carol reached your side she roughly forced your shoulder down so you were laying on your back.

"You're very pushy you know?" You quipped as Carol moved to straddle you hips and placed the metal beside you.

Her jaw clenched tightly in annoyance of your words but she didn't look at you, instead running her hands along your lower abdomen beneath your shirt. Seeing her frustration at you, especially the slight heavy exhale through her nose very few would notice, helped you control the urge to shiver under Carol's touch.

"I hope you can do other things with that mouth of yours besides bitching, for your own sake." Carol said lowly before gripping the end of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

"It can work wonders," you winked at her with a grin, "and it's nice to know you care, Captain, not just a big, mean, dom I see."

Carol's hand wrapped tightly around your throat just as you finished your sentence. She glared at you with clear rage in her eyes, a look that made putting up your hard front difficult. You had a strong urge to apologise, but you instead pushed it aside.

"If you think for one moment I'm going to go ease on you at any point you are sadly mistaken, brat. I'm not done with you until you're a begging, quivering, pathetic mess that's forgotten her own name and only knows her Captain. Even then I won't take any pity because of the shit you keep pulling. Whores dont deserve sympathy." Your breathing was shaky as the words dripped from her mouth laced with poison, threatening to be the end of you.

You were made acutely aware of her grip of your neck tightening and her ability to cut it off and never let you breathe again. You weren't sure at what point you had given over all control, but you didn't want it to stop.

Carol leaned in next to your ear and her scent enveloped your sences again. Her voice had dropped considerably when she next spoke her whispered words. "I can't wait to break you." She bit down on your ear harshly making you yelp. You couldn't deny the effect she was having on your body, she could see it too. Of course she could, she was playing you like a fiddle and there was nothing you could do about it. It was a thrilling realisation.

Carol pulled away from you slowly while you tried to return your breathing to it's normal pace. It wasn't until you heard Carol's deep chuckled that you realised that your eyes were clenched shut. You opened them to see the blonde looking very proud of herself and the result she had gotten.

You couldn't make another witty remark. Your brain couldn't form any kind of coherent thought and you wouldn't have trusted your mouth to deliver it. Besides, after what Carol had just said, you were afraid to speak out of term again.

The self-certain hero reached around your back to unclasp your bra as her other hand came to rest on your stomach, pressing down as she used it for support while she leant forward.

Carol's eyes eagerly took in every inch of your skin the moment it was exposed. She slowly pulled your bra away before flinging it across the room without taking her eyes off of your breasts.

The cold air hitting your skin made your nipples strain in a want for attention, although you and Carol both knew that wasn't the only reason. Carol hummed at the sight and leaned forward again to rub your buds between her thumb and fingers. Your head leant back into the pillows at the attention, sighing in bliss before you hissed sharply at the the spark of pain.

The blonde smiled in amusement as she continued to pinch your nipples harshly, you didn't protests out of stubbornness.

Carol then picked up the forgotten clamps next to you, trailing the chain slowly and deliberately over your sensitive skin. She attached the left clamp with a silent concentration that filled the room with tension. You hissed again as Carol adjusted the screw to the level she saw fit, which was scarily tight, before moving to the next with the same accuracy.

You closed your eyes and tried not to enjoy the throbbing pain on you nipples, but the growing slick between your legs was telling enough.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip hard to suppress a whimper, failing when Carol gave the chain a quick tug that made you give a strained whimper that sounded more pathetic than it would have if you hadn't tried to stop it.

Carol moved further down your body and spread your legs apart so she could sit between them. You could feel the chain extending down your stomach so you opened your eyes in confusion and instantly squirmed.

The two clamps had separate chains that looped around a small ring that lay on your stomach, twinkling mischeviously in the light. There was a third chain on the bottom of the ring that had a clamp at the end of it. A clamp that Carol was guiding dangerously close to your still covered core.

You had had experience with clamps before, but the thought of one pinching painfully at your throbbing clit was one you were unfamiliar and uncertain with.

Carol adjusted herself according to your newfound protests to kneeling on your legs, each knee digging into each of your thighs as a show of control. Your hands were still free and just as you were about to sit up Carol spoke with a fake pout.

"Aww, do you not think you can handle this? Are you too sensitive?" She mocked making you freeze. "I can always stop if you want me to. All you have to do is say the magic word." The blonde continued to taunt.

Your pride screamed at you to make some snarky remark as to protect your ego, knowing saying 'please' would lead to you spiralling down the rabbit hole you refused to step foot in, while your fear begged you to stay quiet. But there was also a small part of you that was eager to experience the pleasurable pain the clamp would surely deliver to your clit.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep an eye on Carol in your peripheral while appearing to ignore her.

She smirked, unbeknownst to you, at your pettiness and trailed a single finger against the wet patch on your panties. You struggled to continue looking at the ceiling and bucked your hips to try and meet Carol's hand.

Surprisingly, Carol let you and even pressed further against your panties, rubbing your clothed lips and relishing in the effect she had on you.

Carol teased you like that for a while, rubbing her finger against your soaking folds before circling your throbbing clit. Every so often she received a quiet whine from you that flooded you with embarrassment, hating how your body betrayed you and pleased Carol.

Finally, Carol pulled your ruined panties down and gleamed at the sight of your glistening folds, the view making her pussy clench around nothing and ache more than it had all night. An idea sprung to mind and she smirked at the thought.

She took the third clamp between her long fingers and pinched at your clit. You yelped and bucked your hips up again as Carol entrapped the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So responsive." She muttered, more to herself than you, as she slowly twisted the screw. Her eyes returned to your pained face as she adjusted the tightness, studying you to see when you would reach the peak of your pain and your limit.

Your face scrunched up at the sharp pain that jolted throughout your body and made you whine lowly as you turned your head to the side and tried to squirm away.

Carol took another glance at your strained bud, biting her lip at the sight, before gripping your under arms and flipped you onto your back.

You were surprised and caught off guard but all questions flew from your mind when you were pushed against the mattress, the clamps pressing down and amplifying your pain.

A tear formed in your eye as your nipples burned hot in pain and your clit ached against its restraint. You whined and tried to squirm away, the inch you did move only made things worse as your dragged the clamps and the skin they pinched across the mattress. You gave a small cry at the pain but pushed your face into the pillows to muffle it, still trying with everything you had to not let Carol win.

You were so caught up in the unnatural pain you didn't even notice Carol stripping herself of her jeans and pants. But you did notice when you felt her wet pussy lips come into contact with the back of your thigh.

You brain short circuited when you felt how wet she was and that she was slowly rocking herself on your leg, using your body to get herself off.

"What are you-"

"Quiet." Carol cut you off by demanding as her hands locked yours to the top of the mattress again.

Her arousal was spreading across your thigh as she grinded against you.

You could feel your own breathing increase rapidly as you heard Carol gasp out occasionally. You wanted to see her. You wanted to see the look of pleasure on her face as she approached her high. What did she look like cuming? Did you feel good against her? Would she ever let you make her cum with your fingers or tongue. You prayed desperetly that you would someday get the chance.

"Fuck." Carol moaned breathlessly. Your own pussy clenched around nothing at the sound and you knew that while Carol was getting her wetness over your thigh, you were getting your own on her bed.

Carol's grip on your hands tightened as her movements became more erratic, chasing her release.

"Your Captain's gonna cum on your thigh, brat. Such a good fuck toy for me to use." A moan slipped past your lips at her words. You cursed yourself for giving the reaction Carol wanted, helping her frantic movements.

"Oh you like this, slut? You like being my little fuck toy for me to use whenever I want?"

You desperetly searched for friction on the bed covers as you whined, only to accidently apply more overwhelming pressure to all 3 clamps.

Carol's cunt dug harder into the back of your thigh as she came with a low moan, coating your skin with the evident of her orgasm.

Surprisingly, Carol didn't move from your thigh as she brought a soft hand around to the soaking space between your legs. She tugged momentarily on the clamp there and you whimpered in protest making her snicker.

She fingers teased your lower lips as she spoke. "You seemed to enjoy that just as much as I did." Carol smirked arrogantly as her fingers swiped at your arousal. "Answer me." She demanded, delivering a smack to your ass to punctuate her words.

You didn't. Instead your breathed into the pillows and tried not to think about how they smelled like Carol in an annoyingly soft way.

Carol spanked you again harshly, barely giving you a chance to adjust to the last.

"No." You lied shakily.

"Don't lie to me. You're only adding to your punishment, not that I mind. It's just drawing out the fun I'm having. Being a lying little slut gives me something else to fuck out of you too." Carol spanked you again as those words left her lips. She gripped your hips tightly and pulled you up so your ass was on full display to her.

When Carol's hand returned to your ass her hand was considerably warmer. You thought it was strange at first until she did it again, this time burning hot.

You moaned into the pillow as your realised Carol was using her powers. And you loved it. The hellish heat, Carol's brute strength and the merciless ways she delivered the blows with no recovery time hit your core everytime.

Your legs shook in pleasure and pain and your moans got notably louder. Sometimes when you tried to lean back into Carol's hand she tugged sharply at the ring connecting the chains on your clamps and you immediately returned to your position.

"Something to say?" Carol inquired after a particularly loud moan from you.

It dawned on you how close you were to submitting yourself to Carol. How close you were to telling her you loved every second of what she was doing and wanted her to fuck you.

So, to convince yourself more than the dominant blonde above you, you spoke up. "Need your powers to help you, Carol? Can't do it on your own?"

The pissed off blonde spanked you unbelievably hard after that. Your whole body lurched forward so suddenly you almost hit your head on the wall. You ass was stinging terribly and you felt a tear trickle down your cheek just after you cried out.

Carol got off the bed to once again disappear into the closet, giving you a moment to wipe the stray tear away so she could never know it was there.

When the powerful hero returned your eyes immediately fell to the obnoxious toy between her legs.

You bit your lip at the thought of her fucking you with it. Despite that, you were in denial that something that long and girthy would even fit. Although you knew Carol would make it fit. And with the blonde as pissed as she was...

"God you're practically drooling on my sheets." Your cheeks redened slightly at her words. "You want my cock, brat? You wanna be your Captain's cockslut?" God you did. But you refused to admit it, even if there was a moan caught in your throat.

"It isn't for your needy little pussy yet. It's to shut you up." Carol said as she straddled your chest, the strap inches away from your face.

"I'm not sucking your fucking strap, Carol." You tried to defy passively with an amused grin. You wanted to, so much. The thought of doing something like that was making your cunt pulse. But you might as well get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. You refused to please Carol with such a submissive act, even if you could feel the cracks in your bratty walls grow with each exchange of words and acts.

To your surprise, Carol didn't push the idea any more, simply nodding with a sly smirk, as though she knew something you didn't.

Instead, the taller woman grabbed a small device from the side of the bed you had failed to notice prior. She twirled it in her hand, as though familiarizing herself with it as she positioned herself between your legs again, a place she seemed to be becoming familiar with.

As you gazed at the toy Carol held you couldn't help but feel there was something different about it. Something you couldn't quite placed. It wasn't as slim as any vibrator you had ever seen, not as pointed either, but there was something else to it too.

You didn't voice these inquires and the blonde didn't make any suggestive comments. So you let the thoughts go.

With her free hand, Carol unscrewed the clamp that had continued to grip onto you with everything it had. The release of pressure was unimaginably relieving but you didn't get long to appreciate it.

Carol wordlessly turned the vibrator on to a high setting and teased it against your skin just above your clit. Your hips jerked instantly in an attempt to lower the vibrator to where you needed it, but Carol placed a firm hand between your hip bones and kept you in place.

You almost whined at that, trying hard to keep it at bay, but Carol soon placed it directly onto your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked again as the vibrations hit you hard. The lack of a tip stopped them being focused to one point and instead pulsed down to every milimeter of your clit.

Despite this newfound pleasure, you couldn't shake the unnerving silence from Carol that hung in the room. Just as her lack of teasing with the vibrator hung over you. It seemed as though she was purely focused on drawing out your own pleasure, abandoning any precious plans. You knew that wasn't really the case. But you didn't know what was. It was anxiety inducing not knowing what Carol was planning in that stubborn head of hers.

The silent blonde watched you as she rotated the vibrator, grinding it into you like a drill that buzzed furiously. The vibrations were sending strong shock waves to your core that were carried throughout the entirety of your body in bliss.

Just as you were about to mentally praise yourself for not making a noise the vibrations seemed to multiple at an alarming rate.

You moaned the loudest you had all night at the feeling of warmth covering your core, emitting off of the vibrator that centred in on your aching clit that was drenched in arousal. Your hips tried to buck violently in search for the source of the vibrations that pulsed almost angrily.

You finally braved a look down as you panted heavily amongst moans to see what could possibly cause such uncharted pleasure only to spot the blue, yellow and red swirls of light you had come to hate the sight of. In that moment you didn't hate them though, far from it. You were entranced by the light show from Carol.

Your legs attempted to close around Carol's hand and the vibrator, but she held them apart. She watched you with an arrogant smirk as you threw your head back and moaned continuously, just as she had planned.

"Oh? I thought you didn't like me using my powers on you. You seem to be enjoying it now, judging by your slutty moans that is." She taunted knowingly.

You're unable to muster the voice to say something, to defend your ego. All you can do try to stop yourself moaning Carol's name or title.

Your breathing became increasingly ragged as Carol's powers never let up, mercilessly pulsing waves of vibrations to your core repeatedly until your legs started to shake.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as your clit throbbed aggressively, desperate to reach it's release it craved so much.

Your moans became less coherent when your back arched and toes curled. Just as you were about to fall over that glorious edge all vibrations died down to barely noticeable sensation.

You whined lowly at the worst teasing you had ever felt. It was as though Carol held you over your much needed edge by the back of your shirt, keeping you in that vulnerable state until she decided to either pull you back or let you go.

"Do you need something?" Carol asked with a shit eating grin.

You brought your hands down to push the vibrator further against you but Carol pinned them together in the middle of your stomach with one hand. The strength of just that was able to stop you and it was frustrating to no end knowing that.

Her other hand stayed firmly attached to the vibrator that was quietly buzzing against you core. Carol occasionally messed around with the vibrations levels and the inclusion of her powers to take you by surprise, constantly keeping you on the edge of where you needed to be most.

"Jesus Christ!" Your frustration bubbled to the surface, unable to control your anger at Carol for the merciless teasing she was making you ensure.

"Nope, just your Captain." If you had control of your legs, you would have kneed her in that stupidly attractive face of hers.

The vibrations were becoming too much yet still too little. Every so often they would spike to the previous level before returning to something unfairly light. Your orgasm seemed to grow closer and closer each time before it was denied.

Once, Carol slipped the powered vibrator through your drenched folds with her powers lining it. It felt insane. Energy tickling your inner walls as the vibrations hit all the right areas. But, of course, it was quickly pulled away too.

Just like that, all defiance left your body and you surrendered to your needs.

"Carol, Please, I need to cum so bad!" You wailed in desperation, not caring how you sounded.

"Really?" Carol wondered aloud as she stared down at you.

"Yes! Carol..." You whined and returned her stare pleadingly.

"Who are you begging to make you cum?"

You gulped stiffly, knowing you were about to slip head first into the rabbit hole you had been avoiding so precisely all night.

"You...My Captain." Carol preened at the use of her title, something she had long awaited to hear you say and was sure you would need no encouragement to say it countless more times that night.

"Good girl." She husked and carelessly threw the vibrator to the side now she could use something better. "You want your Captain to fuck you? You wanna cum on my cock like a good little slut?"

Your nodded eagerly, knowing the only way was forward and that you would do anything for what Carol wanted to do to you.

"Please Captain, I want you so bad." You begged shameless.

"Well then you need to get my cock ready for your cunt." Carol stated matter-of-factly as she sat up straight and edged towards you.

The silicone toy between her legs was getting nearer to your face and your mouth watered at the sight, knowing you would need it to help accomdate the size.

You were so dazed by the sight of the toy bigger than you had ever seen that Carol had to tap your cheek to prompt you to open your mouth for her strap.

You did so instantly and without hesitation, quickly having the tip of the silicone toy at your mouth.

"Such an obidient baby now. You would do anything for my cock wouldn't you?" But Carol didn't give you a chance to respond. She thrusted her hips forward and in a flash she was forcing the strap into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat.

The blonde retreated the strap slightly only to ram it back in with more force and causing you to gag as it surpassed your limit without consideration.

You tried to sit up on your elbows to try and soften Carol's thrusts but she knelt down painfully on your arms as she gripped the headboard to aid her thrusting.

"I haven't even got you tired up and you're still so helpless." She mocked cruelly as she continued to make you gag and choke on the toy you struggled to accomdate so badly.

Eventually it became too much and you body fell limp in defeat, drool spilling from your mouth.

Carol didn't fail to notice this and chuckled darkly at the sight of you spread out on her bed with a dazed expression. She hadn't even fucked you yet.

As the dominant hero withdrew her strap she felt a rush to her core at the sight of your saliva glistening on her cock. You really had gotten it ready for yourself. Not that it would help you handle the size much.

Carol didn't waste and time lining the strap up with your entrance. Her hands were firmly placed on either of your thighs to ensure you stay spread open for her.

"Please." You whispered as you both watched the strap part your folds, paving a way for itself, before disappearing into your hungry pussy. You moaned loudly as the strap stretched your walls for it's entrance. You couldn't help but cling onto Carol's bare back and scratch the prominent muscle beneath your fingers as she sunk the strap in further.

The pain was present but it was overridden by the amazing pleasure provided by it. Your pussy clenched desperately around the intruder just before Carol bottomed out into you and you cried out at the unexpected motion, gripping onto the woman above you as much as you could.

She pulled the strap out slightly, only to slam it back in with force that made your whole body jerk and shudder. She pulled out more the next time, as though giving you a moment to prepare before thrusting the toy back into your still unprepared cunt.

You moaned over and over, struggling to form words and accomdate the brutal strap. You were overwhelmed with pleasure and pain as they took over every part of your brain, body and soul.

Her pace never faulted, never giving you a break. Every thrust was just as hard as the last, leaving you a moaning and shuddering mess beneath her.

"You feel how deep I am inside you, slut?" Carol grunted as she continued her onslaught of fucking tour dripping pussy.

"Yes Captain! Feels so good. You feel so good deep inside me." You moaned between breathless pants.

"God you're such a desperate slut for me. Dripping whore for me to use whenever I want." She punctuated each word with the snap of her hips.

The coil in your lower abdomen was starting to tighten and you craved your release.

"C-Captain." You stuttered as you started to shudder. "I'm gonna...cum."

"Beg me for it." Carol demanded and you complied without question.

"Please! Please Captain, I'm gonna cum so hard! Please let me! I'll be good for you." You begged as though Carol held your life in her hands.

"Why should I let you?"

"Because I- because I'm sorry!" You looked Carol in the eyes as you pleaded, letting you see her expression when she knew she had won. You both knew.

"How sorry?" Carol asked as her pace increased. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm for much longer.

"I'm so sorry. It'll never happen again. I promise." Carol watched you for a moment as she memorized every inch of you during her victory.

"Cum for your Captain." With a cry, you came incredibly hard on Carol's cock. Your whole body shuddered violently as Carol fucked you through your orgasm in the most ungentle way possible.

"I'm cuming! I'm cuming on your cock, Captain!" Never in your life did you think you would talk like this to someone, especially not Carol. Never since meeting the arrogant hero did you think you would submit to her in such a wanton way.

Carol fucked you through your orgasm and into another one without even considering giving you a break or chance to recover from the earth shattering one you had just experienced. Your vision was still spotted with blanks as you tried to speak this to her but you couldn't manage to form any coherent words, the only sounds resonating throughout the room were your desperate moans, slapping of Carol's thighs against your own and the wet sound of your pussy being fucked, this being amplified even more now that your cum was swirling around inside of you with the strap.

Carol unexpectedly reached out quicker than you could react to and locked her hand around your throat. Her pace was harder this time, as though reminding you she hadn't forgotten she was punishing you and that she was still mad at you. Clearly very mad.

The strap slammed against the back of your pussy and had you crying out in a failed attempt to adjust to it. Even that was muffled by Carol's grip on your airways.

You couldn't believe the force she was able to gather to drive herself into you with each thrust. Over and over. You began to loose your grip on the world around you.

You plummeted into another orgasm in no time, your overworked pussy spasming around the strap as it released more sticky liquid onto it that you were too blissed out to notice was dripping onto yours and Carol's thighs. She smacked your thigh hard to show she at least had acknowledged it.

You lost count of how many times you had cum. When your limbs went weak and finally dropped from Carol's back she withdrew. Something you were thankful for until she flipped you onto your front and dove back in. Her stamina and sex drive was unforgivable and unmatched. And soon, it was the only thing you knew.

You continued to moan and scream profanities into the pillow while Carol wrecked your world above you. She had your head forced into the pillows with one hand and showed no signs of letting up.

You mustered as much energy as you could to squirm away but your efforts were futile. Your pussy ached with the punishing pace and extreme overstimulation you were experiencing. But you had no way to escape it. All you could do was lay beneath your Captain, voice horse from screaming so loud countless times, and take everything she was giving.

When the final orgasm was ripped from your body it was as though it had taken every part of you with it. Your exhausted and overworked body finally abandoned you and left you to be enveloped by the darkness and the strong arms of Carol Danvers.

#brie larson #captain marvel #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel smut #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x reader #marvel

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thetaoofzoe · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: A Wild Woman 1/1

Title: A Wild Woman

Summary: By Victorian Standards, you are considered the dreaded Wild Woman! Your aunt and uncle threaten to disown you and turn you out into the streets unless you agree to a little re-education on how to be a proper lady.

Rating: Mature, fluff, Soft Dom Sherlock!Henry, sex, unconventional

Pairing: Sherlock x YOU

Note: This was inspired by "A wild woman brought up a wild child. We'll make her acceptable for society." from the EH trailer.

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Your Aunt and Uncle had had enough of you. They were fed up with your lack of female decorum and your absolute insistence to star gaze, associate with male aeronauts and start fires from chemistry experiments gone awry. But you couldn't help yourself. After the scandal of the woman who attempted to join the Chemistry Society a few years back, you had been forever changed. Women could do anything and you were intent on grabbing that elusive gold ring. If that meant attending boisterous underground resistance meetings, or not wearing your corset, then so be it.

Unfortunately, your family did not see it that way. To them, you were a wild woman who had no place in decent Victorian society.

One gloomy autumn evening, when your uncle returned from the gentleman's club, he sat both you and your aunt down at the dining room table for a talk.

Your uncle then gave you a choice.

Well, it was a choice between scylla and charybdis, but a choice nonetheless.

You were either to be turned out into the street to fend for yourself, with no money and no prospects and definitely no husband, or you were to travel to London to be kept, re-educated and made acceptable to be returned to society by a pair of reputable brothers who promised to produce reputable ladies.

What could you do, but agree to the latter, as the former was a nightmare you never wanted to experience.

So you made the long involuntary train-trek cross country to London.

The man who met you at the train station was tall, and slim with a well-manicured moustache that curled up at the ends in the most fashionable way. When he reached for your single suitcase and turned to walk away, you followed without protest.

Baker Street was a short narrow avenue that seemed unnecessarily busy for so early in the morning, and when the Hansom slowed, your companion opened the door and hopped out. He offered his gloved hand, which you took and followed him to the ground.

The cab rode off and gently taking you by the arm, the man guided you across the road. He walked up the steps to a dark painted door with the numbers 221b etched on a half-moon of glass above it. He led you inside and up the stairs to a room at the end of a long corridor.

It was a well-appointed room. Against the wall was a large bed with a patchwork cover flanked by two low dark wood tables upon which sat twin lamps with beaded green lampshades. To the left, a tall window brought in the hazy morning light and illuminating the small writing desk beneath it. There was also a large wardrobe stood in one corner opposite a bookshelf which was crammed with books.

'Your room, for the duration of your stay. I expect that it will be maintained without clutter.'

He then looked at you and slowly perused your form. You felt scandalised! No man had ever dared make his inspection of your body so plain before. Scandalised, yes, but a slow simmer of heat in your belly belied your inner outrage.

He humphed, and his eyes moved to meet yours again.

'Sloppy,' he said. 'That you expect to be taken seriously, dressed like this is insulting.'

You opened your mouth and he lifted his brows, waiting for you to speak.

'I expect, sir, for you to watch your tongue when addressing me.'

He laughed quietly.

'My brother will be home shortly,' he said ignoring your protest. 'I believe you will be spending the evening in his company. Granted, he is less strict than I am, so don't get used to his...'

The man pinwheeled his hand in the air as if searching for the most appropriate word, but the opening and then the closing of the front door distracted him.

'Ah,' he murmured. 'He's come home early. Please wash thoroughly and change your clothes. I expect that you have something better than this?'

You narrowed your eyes.

'I will give you one hour and then come downstairs and into the study for inspection. The study is to the right at the bottom of the stairs. Have you... questions?'

'Do you intend to stand here and watch me wash and dress?'

He smiled and wordlessly turned to leave you to your task.

'We'll break you of that attitude,' he promised and closed the door behind him.

You wavered on your feet and collapsed on the fainting couch at the foot of the bed. You were breathless, excited, astounded that you were aroused by the man's quiet dominance.

'This is ridiculous girl!' you chided yourself aloud. 'This whole thing is ridiculous.'

But at least you were in London. You had promised your aunt and uncle that you would be 're-educated' and that you were going to come home the niece they always wanted so that you could be married off to the local farmer's son. What they didn't know, was that you were going to use the little stipend they'd provided and run away into the arms of the big city.

In the meantime, this was what you needed to do to get to where you needed to go.

You got up, stripped out of your travel clothes and inspected the pitcher and basin on the wash stand in the corner. There was water in the pitcher and a clean cloth hanging on the railing. There was also a lump of lanolin soap sitting on the side of the basin and you went about washing the dirt from your travels off of your skin. You didn't bother with a corset, or your stockings. You merely shrugged into your chemise, dress and shoes and went down to the study.

You stood at the closed door, humming with excitement and terror. What if this brother was a hunchback, with a mutilated face and was only gentle because his looks terrified everyone. What if he was old and decrepit and smelled of liniment! You wrinkled your nose at the thought and opened the door.

The study was beautiful, quiet and a fire burned in the small hearth. The walls were covered with dark tapestries and old maps. Books and newspapers were stacked everywhere, but it did not appear to be done in a chaotic manner. There was an order to this room and your heart clenched when your eyes fell on the man who was rising from the high wing-backed chair.

If Gods walked the earth, on a regular basis, you would not have been surprised by his appearance. He too was tall, like his brother, broad across the chest with a narrow waist and sturdy thighs. He was in his shirtsleeves with a high starched white collar and dark brown tweed waistcoat and matching dress trousers.

And the curls. Oh the soft mass of chocolatey brown curls were stylish and clipped short and nicely complimented his handsome chiselled face.

'Turn around, please,' he said, his voice all honey and milk and you obeyed immediately.

'Face me again.'

You did so and he approached, hands clasped behind his back. He shook his head.

'You know this is unacceptable, don't you.'

It wasn't a question.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go, you thought. You had practised on the long train ride to London. You knew exactly how you were going to respond and exactly what you were going to say. But your mind had gone blank and only silence came out of your sweet quivering mouth.

You lowered your gaze.

His dark shoes were buttoned neatly and had been shined carefully. He was obviously a man who cared about his appearance.

'I expect things from you, when you're under my roof. This shabbiness and unruly nature will not be permitted and if you continue to pursue these avenues, you will be...'

He trailed off, and began to walk in a slow circle around you, prowling, like a sleek beast and you couldn't help feeling helpless.

Like you were prey.

He stopped after one revolution and stood at your back. He was so close that the heat and scent of him engulfed you. You closed your eyes, and sweat broke out across your upper lip and brow.

He 'humphed', sounding just like his brother and stuck a finger against your side. You didn't dare squirm away from his examination and you held yourself taut.

'No corset,' he said, finding you soft and unrestrained beneath your clothes. 'And I wager, no stockings or combinations.'

You were silent and it seemed that the very silence was a living creature, pricking your skin.

'Answer me.'

'No, none of that.'

He took in a long breath and let it out slowly.

'Upstairs, now. Gather your undergarments and bring them here.'

You turned so fast that you nearly banged into him. But you managed to scurry round him, and dart up the stairs as fast as your legs beneath your full skirts would carry you. You blindly grabbed everything that you had and nearly tumbled back down the stairs in your haste to please this man, this stranger, who within moments of meeting him made you want to drop to your knees and worship his masculinity.

He was still standing in the same place where you left him, back straight, head up, elegant hands clasped behind his back.

Out of breath, you stood before him, arms full of undergarments and he smiled. That smile took your breath away. He directed you to dump your clothes on the nearby desk.

'Now,' he began, scholarly. 'The makings of a society appropriate lady, begins at her skin. Do you understand?'

You swallowed hard and nodded.

'Good. Now, remove your clothing. We have to start from the skin.'

There was heat in his voice, filled with a demand that brooked no argument, and with trembling hands, you unbuttoned your waistcoat, unpinned your skirt and shrugged out of your rough collared shirt until you stood there bare beneath your chemise.

You worked your hands together in front of you feeling damp between your legs and ready to show him everything that was private about you.You unlaced the chemise at the collar and let it fall.

He looked at you for a long time, appreciating you, drinking you in and he was very obviously pleased with you.

He pointed to the combinations lying in a heap on the desk.

'Combinations.'

Your combinations were in two pieces so you stepped into the split bottoms and pulled on the top.

'Now corset.'

You went back to the table. You had two corsets, and you looked to him for his opinion.

'Blue,' he said. 'It laces in the back.'

Normally, as you dressed yourself, your corsets (when you wore them) laced in the front. But this one, he chose purposefully. He wanted to have control over dressing you.

The blue one was already partially laced so all you had to do was pull it over your head and hold it in place. You turned your back to him and waited. He began to slowly tighten your laces, starting from the top and working his way down, one after the other after the other he pulled the narrow fabric through the eyelets closing the boned corset around you, trussing you like a tart and stealing your breath.

The corset was tight, but not overly so, just enough to make you realise that you liked it. He tied the remainder of the cord round your waist and tucked in the excess.

'Will you take it off me when it's time?' you breathed, lightheaded with arousal.

And he hummed a soft response.

Then followed your simple cream and blue coloured dress, which you stepped into with his help. It buttoned up the back and he took his time doing so.

After what seemed an eternity, he stepped away from you and mourning the loss of his heat, you watched him walk to the chair, turn and sit down.

'Come here, and bring your stockings and ribbon.'

Like a puppy, you followed and stood at his knee.

He took the stockings and thin blue ribbons and laid them across his lap.

'Right foot,' he murmured and patted the spot on his thigh where he wanted you to put it. 'Balance yourself on the chair if needed.'

You put a hand on the top of the wing back and sighed softly when he rolled up the first stocking and slid it on your foot and up your leg. You bit your lip, but you couldn't look away from the deft fingers that trailed fire along your skin. He tied the ribbon just below your knee and folded the top of the stocking over it.

'Left.'

You switched legs and he repeated the process, only this time after he had tied the ribbon and folded the stocking down, he held your calf with both hands and looked up at you.

'Now you are finished. Is there anything that I did that you did not understand?'

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to come out as anything but a squeak. He nodded to acknowledge your answer, paused, and then slid one hand up your calf, to your thigh and over the material of your combinations to where they split to reveal your tender sex. He lightly brushed his fingertips over your naked mound and you made a noise that was quite unbecoming of a society lady. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you did the only thing you ever wanted to do the moment you laid eyes on him; you widened your legs.

'I prefer an unruly woman,' he said, sliding one finger into your slick wet cunt. 'I think they have spirit.'

Whining, you grabbed onto the other side of the chair and leaned on it for support. He stroked your clit slowly, carefully, pushing back the swollen little hood and pinched it between his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut and stars burst against the darkness. You were going to scream if he continued.

'Please,' you whispered, jerking your hips forward, encouraging his further exploration. 'Please... just please!'

He slid his fingers out of you and with his eyes still on your, he put those same fingers into his mouth.

A cry of frustration escaped you. You hiked your skirts and climbed onto his lap, giving him just enough room to unbutton the opening of his trousers and draw out his leaking cock. You took him in hand and he grabbed your hips and pressed back into the chair as you positioned yourself enough to sink slowly down onto him.

You leaned back into his hands, tipping your chin up and moaning loudly, voluptuously, clenching tightly around him, circling your hips to feel all of him filling you completely. He groaned quietly, much more subdued, but no less aroused and he looked up just as you looked down at him. You grabbed his exquisite face between your hands and kissed him, lapping eagerly into his delectable mouth, letting your body rise and fall as your cunt greedily devoured him.

You pushed your fingers into his soft curls, and held his head up, kissing and biting at his plush lips, riding him slowly at first, and then faster as the crescendo of desire and lust and pleasure crested then exploded inside you. Every part of you clamped down hard on him and you rocked and back and forth, milking the shuddering orgasm out of him.

It took a moment before the two of you finally relaxed from your shared high. Still holding his face, you kissed his cheeks and his forehead and his lips over and over until his softening cock slipped out of you. You sat back on his thighs and imagined his cum leaking out of you and onto your combinations. You giggled at the dirty thought.

'I'm Sherlock,' he said after a long silence, looking up to meet your gaze.

'I'm... smitten,' you answered.

Maybe a little re-education wasn't such a bad thing.

-End

I hope you enjoyed it. Please like, share comment reblog all that good stuff. :)

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #sherlock!Henry #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x you

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espritmuse · 4 years ago

Text

Zeke and Reiner birthday collab!! It was supposed to be longer but my sens of organisations is close to zero so I was late as usual @saccharine-darling collab!!!

4K words, smut ahead (but not that much lol)

Warning: reader is low-key cheating, semi public sex maybe angst too idk….

Perhaps the sun, always glorious and a harbinger of delight and bliss, reminded you of how dull and dreary your life was, while the moon and its obscurity brought you back to your slumbers and reveries.

On a bright day when everything seemed dark, questioning your relationship with Reiner, you met him, Zeke Yeager, like a light among the stars, like the moon eclipsing the sun for a mere moment, but maybe long enough to forget about how bright the sun used to shine.

—LUNAR ECLIPSE—

A single tiny piece of sunshine that seemed to escape from the firmament to find refuge, a curtain slightly ajar so that the darkness did not take over the whole room and one side of the bed unmade, the grey cotton sheets crumpled as usual, as they have been every morning for several months now. It was all these little details, in addition to your noisy alarm clock, the passers-by and the cars in the city streets, that brought you out of your long and sweet reverie, the one that allowed you to escape from your daily life, which was morose, to say the least.

You gathered up what courage you had left and got up after stretching your numb limbs from the awkward position you had been in while sleeping. Walking a few steps to reach the window, you opened the shutters and curtains to finally let the sweet sunshine into the sad room, which needed it. Although you had no desire to see him again, your stomach was just rumbling with anticipation of anything that might fill it. So you opened the white wooden door, turned the gold handle, and headed for the main room of your little flat.

"Morning." You greeted with a sigh before opening one of the small doors in the wall shelves to pick up a black patterned mug into which you poured coffee straight from the coffee pot.

"Hm." The short-haired man simply replied without even bothering to look in your direction, as if he didn't care about your presence anymore.

You didn't even care, you'd taught your heart not to feel bruised by every loveless move he made. He just couldn't stand you anymore, he didn't love you like he used to. You don't know what changed, what you could have done to make your sweet and loving boyfriend suddenly change his behaviour.. The idea that he had met someone else had crossed your mind more than once, but you didn't even dare ask him; you were frightened of the answer he might address you. Despite his silence, you never stopped loving him and it hurt you deeply that he could have gone to someone else, another girl, maybe more beautiful, funnier... It's all these questions that have little by little pushed you away from him in your turn.

"Did you sleep well? It was hot last night and I had a little trouble falling asleep.” But you tried to talk to him, no matter what, you always found something to say to try to reconnect with the man you loved.

With the summer, the heat and the sun, he had even more excuses to go out at all hours of the day so you had even less opportunity to see him. At times you can't help but think back to the days when you would jump into his arms as soon as you heard his keys turn in the front door lock, when you would spend the evening in each other's arms whispering sweet nothings. You think back on those moments with great melancholy, you don't even feel like the same man anymore.

“Yeah.” Once again, he didn't look at you; his head was turned towards the television, which was showing a programme even more boring than the questions you were asking him to break the ice. Slumped on the sofa, his left leg stretched out and the other bent; you sat down next to him and put your cup on the living room’s small coffee table.

"We could go out today, don't you think? I miss when we used to go for walks in the city Reiner." You asked, your eyes on him, and thankfully you noticed a small movement in his regard as if in a second he had recalled happy memories, memories where everything still seemed perfect.

"I...I already have stuff planned." He replied after a short moment, his gaze still evasive.

"Oh...Okay." You simply answered, not wanting to annoy him longer, maybe that was the reason; you were too much on his back, you were asking for too much attention...

Silently sipping your coffee, you pondered for a moment, your mind elsewhere. After a few minutes of communicating to yourself, you made your settlement. You were going to go out without him, you didn’t need him for everything. It had been weeks since you had been out with just yourself and you were beginning to miss it; when you officially moved in with him, away from your family, you lost touch with many of your friends so it was high time to meet new people and have some fun for once.

So the day passed, the noon and then the afternoon; you had decided to go out at night to appreciate everything even better, the big lights on the main boulevard, itself filled with people dancing -contrasting with their morose faces of the day-, the bars full of life, the stars overhanging the sky and giving it a bit of light in its solitary gloom...Everything seemed more beautiful once the sun was down. Perhaps the sun, always bright and a harbinger of delight and hapiness, reminded you of how dull and dreary your life was, while the moon and its night brought you back to your slumbers and reveries.

Using your phone, you took down the address of a bar in your town that you had spotted earlier on one of your walks. It was quite big but seemed to be a bit of an upmarket bar, given the prices of the drinks. But you didn't give up, it was your night out, all to yourself and it didn't matter if you ended up broke, you wanted to have fun for once.

So when night fell, you put on your best evening dress, a short black dress, hugging your body to perfection without being too tight, and your pumps of the same colour - a little high and uncomfortable, but that would be a problem for later -. And of course, you took forever to make yourself beautiful in the bathroom, make-up, eyebrows, nails... Who knows, maybe you were going to meet someone, or maybe somewhere in the back of your mind, you wished Reiner would see you like this, that he would fall in love with you again like he did a few years before when he saw you at that campus party. You would have liked him to compliment you, to ask you to stay home, or even to ask you out instead; but none of that; he was already off somewhere while you were primping in the next room.

Turning the key in the lock of the front door, you then went down the stairs quickly - trying not to fall with your impractical high heels - and went to the taxi you had ordered beforehand because, although the bar was not far away, you were still a woman in a short dress at night and you didn't want to put your life in danger. Once in the car, the driver began to drive carefully, exchanging a word or two with you so that the journey would not be too boring.

"So, a girls' night out? It's a beautiful day right now, even at night, you're lucky to see the stars in the city, with the pollution, not everyone gets to see them so often." The man says to you, hands on the wheel, looking straight ahead, preparing to brake at the red light.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm going out to have some fun." You simply replied to the white-haired, long-bearded widow with the same unkempt light colour.

"In my day, me and my friends used to run out of bars, unpaid!" He recalled with a smile as he looked at you through the car window to look at your smiling face, too. "So if you need me to wait for you outside the bar so you can escape, don't hesitate, the police have never caught me...yet."

"It's going to be hard for me to run around with these things on my feet...but I'll make a note, the prices are outrageous." You replied to his somewhat amusing remark.

The car had been driving for several minutes now and you saw the front of the bar, so the driver pulled over and waited for you to give him the money for the fare, which you said after digging into your wallet for a few seconds.

“Take care of yourself miss” He finally said before rolling up the driver's side window and leaving.

You breathed out a deep breath before crossing the street that separated you from the place. It was, like all the other signs of this kind, much more animated at this hour and more beautiful too. Its many lights of all colours and the people who surrounded it, some outside to smoke or drink and others, inside laughing with friends, that you could see between the half-open doors... All this gave an astonishing charm to this place.

Your legs a little shaky with hesitation, you finally entered, putting your hands on one of the glass doors to push it open slightly to give yourself more room to pass. You quickly made your way to the bar at the far right of the large room. To avoid people who had already had too much to drink, you stayed close to the walls, walking quickly along them to wait for the right place. Although your steps went in one direction, your eyes, curious as they are, turned towards the dance floor and the other people present. They seemed so happy, full of life, smiling, dancing... You wondered immediately if, like you, their lives were not a reflection of their current emotions, if, like you, they woke up in the morning, sad with the feeling that their lives are meaningless. They seem so happy at the time, but are they really happy once the sun rises, once the bar lights go out?

You took a seat on one of the leather stools placed at the counter, waiting for a waiter to ask you what you wanted to order. A simple whisky, that's what you took when the waiter came towards you.

Sipping your drink -or rather the second one, as you had swallowed the first one in record time-, you continued to look at the others, indefinitely, when you heard a voice break your precious silence; it was the bar's waiter once again but this, this time he was holding a small plate with two drinks on it.

"Excuse me, here," he placed two more glasses of whiskey in front of you, "The man over there paid for you." He nodded towards another part of the room to your puzzled look. In the distance, there was a group of men who looked like businessmen, from the black suits they were still wearing. You didn't know which man he was talking about, there were several of them; two with blond hair, one who looked very effeminate and the other with glasses and a beard; a dark-skinned man with closely shaved hair and finally a dark-haired man who seemed to be smaller in stature, especially compared to one of the blond men beside him.

You turned back your head to its original position, a little smile on your face, proud that your charm was still working, and what's more, on a man who seemed rather attractive - because, even if you didn't know which man the drink came from, the four of them were rather to your liking -

"Is this seat taken?" A deep yet soft voice suddenly asked, taking you out of your reverie.

You turned towards the noise you had just heard and noticed that a young man, about your age or maybe older, was pointing with his index finger at the chair next to yours. He was one of the guys you just saw some minutes prior, one of the blonde, the one with the beard and the round silver glasses.

“Oh...No. No, it’s not, you can take it,” you answered as naturally as possible, with a smile that had not yet left your lips. The unamed man said before sitting on the chair at your right, he had a cup in his hand, half empty.

“So...What a girl like you is doing here..” he leaned over a little to look at the other vacant seat on your left. “...all by herself?”

"Oh well, I was supposed to come with someone but they dropped me... so I preferred to come alone." you replied honestly, your eyes looking into his.

"He doesn't know what he's missing then." He added with a small smile and a discreet wink.

Although the man was attractive, you weren't used to that anymore; going out to bars, being accosted…Since you were with Reiner, you had developed the habit of always replying negatively to the advances of men. But at the moment everything was racing through your brain, you didn't even know what he was doing tonight and he didn't even bother to ask you where you were going, as if he didn't care anymore.

To have fun. That was the promise you made to yourself, and you decided to keep it.

"Zeke, nice to meet you. "You finally told him after he asked your name and, of course, you asked his in return.

Maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it was the sense of freedom you hadn't had the pleasure of feeling in months, but for some reason you'd ended up chatting with him for hours. You knew that time was passing, thanks to the waiter's digital watch that lit up every time he lifted his arm to look for a bottle up high, your eyes were directed straight to the sudden glimpse of light in the darkness.

He offered to dance, which you refused, for fear that your heels would give out under your inexperienced movements - or maybe those embarrassing movements were the real reason - and then he offered you something else, something a little daring, maybe even too daring for the short time you'd both been sitting at the bar.

You accepted, without even considering too much, maybe you should have? or maybe the adrenaline and the alcohol in your veins spoke for you. This man had appeared like lightning in the middle of a storm, the moon in the middle of a sky devoid of light. In other words, he was there at the right time.

So there you were, without really knowing how or why, sitting on the edge of one of the sinks in the bar's toilets, your dress somewhat raised so that your skin could come into contact with the cold surface of the piece of furniture, your legs spread -it was almost pathetic- and his hands placed on your half-opened thighs, rough hands, large and painted with several blue veins, contrasting with his rather light skin and which gave in spite of themselves a little colour to his light skin.

"Are you sure no one will come and disturb us here?" You asked, putting your hands on his chest, still dressed, although he had removed his black blazer. Only a white shirt prevented you from coming into direct contact with his skin, the one you wanted so much, now.

"Don't worry...just relax, okay?" He moved closer to you and placed a soft kiss on your neck that made your eyelids close almost instantly.

His lips began to move freely over your face and chest, as if they couldn't decide where to land. His arms were still wrapped around you, moving around your back, catching the fabric of your dress at times, as if to bring you closer to him.

While your eyelids were still closed, your ears were attentive to every little sound in the room, as if they were ready to inform your body of someone's arrival or, as was the case now, to hear the zip of his trousers being quickly undone.

"Are you sure?" You felt his warm breath next to your ears, as if he were telling you a well-kept secret.

"I'm sure." You retorted, ready to submit to one of the cardinal sins. Although, you would have much preferred that he took you home, for comfort, at least.

You felt his long, hot member between your thighs, with a long sigh of your own. He was already hard as a rock, and you wet as the ocean, for a flash of a second you wondered if this was his intention all along and if he had noticed you as soon as you stepped into that bar and then, a little heat growing in your crotch made you forget about this useless questioning.

You tried not to be too blatant, but as his pelvic thrusts got more profound and faster, you couldn't stop a few moans from escaping your lips.

"Fuck...a body like that.." He commented, using two of his fingers to push the fabric of the neckline of your dress and expose one of your breasts to the air.

"Zeke..." You moaned languidly as he continued his back and forth.

"What? You don't agree maybe? Look at you." He questioned, though his question was mostly rhetorical at this point because yes, indeed, you had noticed what a disadvantageous position you were in. "Poor girl... so desperate, I almost feel sorry for you, you know"

Then he stopped for a moment and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down from the sink where your feet did not touch the floor. He turned you, a little violently, and pressed your belly against the surface of the sink, allowing him to have a full view of everything below, which, as you could imagine, he was most interested in.

He kept his burning hands on your hips - you could feel it even through the lmere piece of tissue that separated your skin from his - to help his pelvis move even harder, which released even more little moans from you, trying as hard as you could to muffle them with the palm of your hand, though it was more than futile.

"I'm almost there...Fuck you feel amazing..." he groaned in a hoarse voice, his movements becoming more and more tired but still rough, as if he wanted to get it over with quickly.

With all the alcohol you'd ingested -which you weren't really used to doing anymore- your envy was even bigger than usual but, strangely, your pleasure wasmore distant, as if each movement was taking you further away from the orgasm. But you didn't give up, your lower body was still on fire, as if insatiable, never satiated - although the fingers he placed on your clitoris helped a little with that -

With a final grunt from him and a long moan from you, your mutual pleasure finally came to an end. And suddenly all your senses came back to you; you felt his hips pressed against you, his hands roaming over your half-dressed body, the surface of the washbasin which was no longer really cold thanks to your own warmth, the air conditioning of the toilet which didn't even have a window and finally, the dimmed lights of the room.

He withdrew from you after a few seconds -or maybe a few minutes, you didn't even know anymore-, removed the soiled condom he had put on beforehand and wrapped it in paper before throwing it precautiously in the trash. Returning to you a moment later, he pulled up the black lace lingerie that had been left on one of your calves and pulled your dress back on, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder, in stark contrast to his rough actions earlier.

Once out of the toilet, under the innocent gaze of the other customers, he proposed to you, leaning against the wall near the exit, to meet him the next day, at an address he had given you, that of his flat. Should you? You had felt so good a few minutes before, but now that you had regained your senses, everything was confused. Sure he was charismatic, quite funny and cultured but Reiner couldn't leave your consciousness so easily, you had been through so much with him, you couldn't leave him after just one night with another man.

But you accepted. You were not committed to anything, you had only given him your name; you would have the whole day to think quietly, away from the hustle and bustle of the bar and with less alcohol flowing through your veins.

So after a simple kiss on your cheek, he called you a taxi and even opened the door for you, wishing you a good night. The ride was short, you didn't even think about him for a second but only about Morpheus, who seemed to be screaming your name, your comfortable bed was the only thing you craved now.

***

Just a tiny bit of sunlight sticking out of the door, one hand on the handle and the other on your purse, a great gulp of air escaping from your lungs and finally, the guilt that took over your mind suddenly, once the door was open.

What the fuck had you done.

The blond boy with the marked facial features was there, lying on the couch, his body covered by one of your blankets and, in his sleeping hand, his phone still open on the messaging application where you could read your name. You turned on your phone, something you hadn't done all evening.

"Where are you? You're not home." Please come back home I have a surprise for you. "Hey?" "Please tell me that you're okay at least. "I love you." "Sorry"

You were confused, it had been a long time since he had stopped sending you such messages, words that seemed to indicate his attachment to you. So you turned on one of the lamps in the living room to get a better look, because the light from the television wasn't bright enough to illuminate the whole room.

A table covered with a red tablecloth with small decorative patterns, a large candle in the centre, which had once been lit by the dripping wax but was now out and cold, two plates and cutlery, one full and one half eaten, and to top it all off, your old friend the Guilt, who was just whispering maliciously in your ears.

"You're back..."

At the sound of the still sleeping little voice, your eyes suddenly widened and your body felt heavy now, as if your legs were going to give out under your weight. But you turned back to him, not looking at all. He looked tired and was dressed in his pyjamas, a simple white tank top with grey shorts.

"Oh hi." You replied simply, a little confused by the situation.

He walked towards you, with a shy smile on his face, like a child trying to get close to a wild animal that might run away at any moment.

"I wanted to... "He looked down at your outfit and his gaze shifted for a moment, as if he'd just realised you'd spent the night away from home and, as he knew you didn't really have any friends here, that you'd spent it out there alone. But he didn't say a word and continued, "I wanted to apologise. I've been a shit to you and I know that. I'm so sorry, I know you deserve better, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

You frowned and opened your mouth, letting fresh air enter between your lips. Reiner probably read the confused and shocked expression on your face, so he continued.

"I had so much on my mind right now, you know, I feel so bad. I would do anything for you..I..I don't know...I should have told you about it my love I'm sorry." You saw a tear escape from his right eye, almost reaching his rosy cheek before he wiped it away with his hand, "Maybe we could try again?" with his fragile fingers, he took you by the hand and looked you straight in the eyes. "Please, I love you so much."

You should have been happy. You should have jumped into his arms, told him that all was forgiven, promised him a bright future, put your lips against his. But you were as if frozen, like a criminal before the police, like a slow prey before its fast predator.

So you stood there, forcing a small smile that on the surface said 'all is well' but in reality depicted your unhappiness even more than the tears. He responded to your smile, wrapping his warm arms around you, as you had so dreamed of, as you would have loved this very morning.

You couldn't even think straight. Had he planned all this for you? That's why he didn't want to go out. And you had gone elsewhere, while all he could think about was you, all he could think about was making things right.

Lying. It was the only solution. You wouldn't see Zeke again tomorrow, you would forget him, this evening would be a distant memory, like a dream so realistic that you would almost forget that it had never happened.

Like the moon on an eclipse day, it had hidden the sun, almost making you forget its beauty and warmth, temporarily providing some comfort in the dark night that the luminous orb had caused when it suddenly left.

It was tears that lulled you that night, under the mocking eye of the moon.

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neon-vials · 3 years ago

Text

Mail Order Groom

Relationships: Peggy Carter x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Marriage was not something Margaret "Peggy" Carter ever intended to enter into. For one, she wasn't suited to being a meek domestic housewife, and two, she hadn't met a man who would remotely be able to change her mind. Most of them were absolute boors, who didn't believe women should be allowed to think for themselves or do anything that wasn't tending to said men's needs.

Word Count: 1046

Rating: General

Warnings: Fluff

A gift for @buckybarnesxpeggycarter

Marriage was not something Margaret “Peggy” Carter ever intended to enter into. For one, she wasn’t suited to being a meek domestic housewife, and two, she hadn’t met a man who would remotely be able to change her mind. Most of them were absolute boors, who didn’t believe women should be allowed to think for themselves or do anything that wasn’t tending to said men’s needs.

She was happy to run her small town all by herself and didn’t care what the gossips and old fashioned idiots said.

But when it came time for re-election as mayor, her shady opponent managed to get the town council to revive an old law that would require her to have a husband in order to run for mayor.

Furious, Peggy nearly took Thompson’s head off, but all her lectures and wrath would not move the town council, several of whom were vocal opponents of a woman in leadership.

Aggravated beyond all reason, Peggy steamed for a while, but finally decided she’d either have to find a trophy husband somehow or give up and let Thompson run the place into the ground.

She made discreet inquiries with an agency that was known for matching mail order spouses for those in need of one. After filling out their questionnaire, she was put into correspondence with one James Buchanan Barnes, a bachelor from New York, who was interested in making a move West, but lacked the funds.

James handled her long distance interrogation with patience and honesty, both of which Peggy appreciated in a man.

She explained the reasons for her needing a husband and braced herself to be disillusioned once again, but much to her surprise, James' answering letter expressed outrage toward the town council and offered his full support of her run for re-election.

He sounded much too good to be true, but so far the private investigator the agency used to verify their client’s character had not been able to find any history of fraud with him. He’d been in trouble for assaulting a man before, but the charges were dropped because James had been defending a woman's honor.

“Can he cook, too?” Peggy’s friend Angie asked after Peggy shared the latest letter with her.

"He says he can, albeit nothing fancy. But I don’t need fancy. I need edible."

Peggy and Angie shared a chuckle over Peggy’s famous kitchen disasters.

“Well. I’d say snatch him up! You’re not going to find any better husband candidate in time for the election and he’s agreed to your conditions. So if you’re gonna go for it, go for it, Peg.”

And Peggy did. A couple weeks later, she waited at the train station for her prospective groom. She didn’t really know what he’d looked like, beyond his brief description of himself. As the passengers disembarked, Peggy scanned the crowd nervously, wondering which one was James.

A tall bearded man approached her, removing his hat to reveal a head of slightly shaggy dark brown hair.

“Mayor Carter?” He asked, looking hopefully at her with very attractive blue eyes.

Peggy’s stomach did a flip as she realized just how very handsome he was. Please let this be James! begged the voice in her head.

“Yes,” she managed to reply calmly. “Are you James Barnes?”

“I am. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

James held out his hand and she returned his firm shake, both seeming to silently be sizing each other up. He was pretty tall and broad shouldered and looked sturdy enough to endure the hard work of the West, but his eyes were kind, not hard, and he looked like he smiled a lot.

All in all, it was a very promising picture and Peggy found herself not nearly so opposed to marriage as she had been.

James, on the other hand, couldn’t believe his good fortune. He’d already fallen for the strong spirit of the woman he’d been writing to and now seeing her in person, he was almost struck speechless by her. He hoped she would give him the chance to try and win her heart.

“I trust your journey was uneventful?” She asked, as she drove them out to the ranch she owned. Of course, she couldn’t live there herself right now, but it would make a good home once the two of them married.

“It was,” James answered. “Unless you call the overly loud snoring of my old roomate to be eventful.”

Peggy chuckled. “Well, here you’ll have the whole place to yourself, at least for a little while.”

“You don’t live here?”

“No. Too many headaches for a single woman to live alone out here. I’m rooming in town for now. When we marry, I will move out here with you. I much prefer the space out here.”

“How much time do you have to make a decision on marriage before the election?” James questioned.

“About three weeks,” Peggy answered. “But I have already made up my mind. I want to give you a chance to get to know this place and see if you could actually endure marriage to me. I tend to scare the men off.”

“I don’t scare easily,” James replied with a small smile.

Sure enough, James was still there three weeks later and he and Peggy went before the judge to be joined in holy matrimony.

“What a lovely ring!” Peggy admired after it was over.

“It was my mother’s,” James explained, looking down at her left hand with a proud expression. “Father had it specially made for her.”

“Oh, James. I’m honored,” she said, very touched that he’d given her a family heirloom after such a short time of courtship. “You didn’t have to give me this.”

“I wanted to,” he told her honestly. “My mother would have loved you.”

And I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. He thought.

Peggy trotted out her new husband at her announcement of running for re-election and the town went wild, except for the sulky town council members, who were forced to accept her entry and very unhappy about it.

It didn’t take long for James to win the heart of Peggy and the loyalty of the town.

Thompson was soundly defeated and sulked for a long time.

#carterbarnes #beggy #wintercarter #peggy carter #bucky x peggy #bucky barnes #winter soldier #drabble #fluff #marvel #marvel fluff

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seyaryminamoto · 4 years ago

Note

"So… to answer your earlier question, no, I never stopped to think that maybe one day I'd fall in love with someone, and that I'd REGRET my encounters with those women BY THEN." Now I quoted right. This is a contradiction. There a some contradictions regarding this in your fanfic and answers. The same with having an erotic dream. He regrets it now. Because he didn't think he would fall in love with Azula.

I’ve likely said I’m done answering asks of this nature a thousand times. Hell knows why I’m bothering to do it now, but I really think it’s the last time I’ll bother, despite I ALREADY know that nothing I say will actually register in your head.

You refuse to accept any arguments I’ve presented to you, perhaps because you don’t bother reading my answers to give them actual thought, as you’re stuck in your perception of Sokka as some appalling, disloyal man despite the fact that he’s been 100% devoted to Azula since he first accepted his feelings for her properly (chapter 55). He has been with her, in-story, for about 2 years already, and he has never shown the slightest interest in any women besides Azula throughout those years.

But according to you, he’s the worst because he had one erotic dream about someone else before he had any sort of relationship with Azula, and because of his nightmarish experiences in Hui Yi.

Okay. My bad. You’ve finally convinced me of WHY I shouldn’t have panned over those two years in Hui Yi and jumped right in with the story I wanted to tell. Maybe if I had gone the show-don’t-tell route with that, despite I didn’t particularly want to, I wouldn’t be receiving asks like yours. And boy, I really would like that.

Warning: I’m really at my wits’ end. I thought to tone down my answer. I even did in many ways. But consider my patience tried, tested and broken, and if I sound far more aggressive and outraged than usual, it’s because I am. Please, learn from that, if you won’t learn from anything else.

So, apparently Gladiator’s Sokka must be some sort of terrible person, going by your fixation with this topic, and a bad love interest for Azula, because he doesn’t regret what happened in Hui Yi, in the classic sense of the word, right away. And I suppose you expect me to back down on this and say you’re right, oh no, he totally SHOULD have regretted it all along!

Well, the truth is, Sokka regrets one very specific thing all along: being stuck in a situation where he has no choices, where he has to live by the fucked up rules of someone like Huang Li. THAT is what he regrets. And NO, that is not a contradiction. I’m bluntly stating it. It’s a FACT. It’s something every last one of his recollections about Hui Yi is permeated with.

Why doesn’t he regret what he did with SEVEN, btw, SEVEN girls in Hui Yi? And I specify this because I suspect it was you who sent an ask about how it was ELEVEN? Checking 112, I find Sokka said in the middle of his explanations to Azula that eleven people survived: he’s talking about the GLADIATORS at that point, something that should be obvious by context, but apparently I have to waste hours of my time spelling things out one by one to anons, huh? That comment is NOT about how many people he was with, this is about the gladiators who had survived by the time Azula bought him off Huang Li. He outright told Azula the exact number of girls in the previous chapter, and she reached her own conclusions. That you (or whoever it was) misreads the chapters to this extent just to piss yourselves off further is proving how POINTLESS this entire debate is. You people (or you alone) don’t want to hear reason. You want to poke holes into the story that aren’t even there, to demand retribution from a fictional man who already went through hell on earth, just because he wasn’t 100% pure and untainted when he reached Azula’s bed. I’ve asked you to have empathy for his character before, clearly that you still send asks like these proves my request has gone to waste.

Well, let’s come back to the point: why doesn’t he regret it? BECAUSE OF THE FIRST WOMAN. Because of what happened to the one he outright put a stop to, because this wasn’t what he wanted, and the woman stopped indeed because she didn’t want to have sex with Sokka any more than he wanted it with her, and then they spent hours talking, and he offered her an emotional sort of comfort by being a decent guy who let her relax instead of forcing her to do things she wouldn’t want to...

AND THEN SHE GOT HER HAND CUT OFF FOR IT. AND SHE WAS TREATED AS A LESSER SLAVE AND HUMAN BEING BECAUSE OF IT.

According to you, upon hearing this story from the next girl who went for him, Sokka should’ve been like “Well damn, I do feel sorry for lady #1, the only person I’ve ever bonded with in Hui Yi, she’s been crippled for life and might even die from an infection for all I know, considering how damn hygienic Hui Yi has always been, but you see, lady #2, I must keep my body ~pure~ because one day I’m going to fall in love with someone and she won’t be with me if I was with sex slaves, despite I could ensure no other girls have to go through what lady #1 went through if I actually do sleep with you”. At least, that’s what I’m understanding out of your asks.

Well, great. Then he would’ve condemned this second girl to the exact same fate as the first :)

And the third :)

And however many there might have been :)

According to you, he should regret that he was with them right away, no matter if he actively felt like shit about what was going on, if it was the darkest period of his life: well, HERE is why he doesn’t regret it. Because if he HADN’T done it, those girls would’ve had it WORSE. The fact that I need to spell this out to you, in this way, is frankly ridiculous to me. You really could’ve reached that conclusion on your own if you had just TRIED, which makes me think you’re not trying at all. Anyone who’s old enough to read M-Rated fiction should be capable of connecting such basic, obvious dots. That you refuse to do it only to barge into my inbox demanding for me to explain every writing decision I make that you dislike, really doesn’t speak well of you.

So no, Sokka doesn’t REGRET what happened with those women right away because he was doing what he could to ensure they wouldn’t be tortured or maimed, at worst even KILLED, if it was discovered they hadn’t “fulfilled their duties”. Oh, but he would have been a damn great person if only he had decided to retain his “integrity” instead of saving innocent people’s lives, according to you...! :’D

Well, turns out if he had chosen to retain his integrity above all else, he probably would be dead by now. Because he wouldn’t have ever defeated a single gladiator in Hui Yi, not even the first one he fought, because he would have refused to kill anyone who wasn’t truly his enemy.

And there we go, story over :’) thank you for this glimpse into how short Gladiator would be if Aang was my protagonist. Very nice.

So of course, I suppose you’ll ask now why does he regret having done this years later, if he wasn’t sorry back then and his argument is so solid (not that you’ll think it is, why even imagine you would? Apparently sex slaves deserve to die, as far as I can understand of what you’ve said so far)?

He regrets it now because, with that much distance between himself and what happened in Hui Yi, with that much time spent with someone he grew to love beyond he ever belived possible, he would MUCH RATHER have been a complete novice at everything and discovered everything about sex with her.

“Truth be told, I would have rather not been experienced at all… then again, if I hadn't been, our first time would have been a disaster, but… but it might have been worth all the more to learn all about this together, huh?”

He HATES that he had no choice but to go for it back then. He’s not proud of it in the least. If rejecting them wouldn’t have had such violent, catastrophic results, he would have always pushed them away. But he didn’t do that, AND he owns up to it in those chapters, even though he expects Azula will be as merciless as you appear to be and conclude he’s not worth her time anymore. Curiously, Azula actually understands that Sokka’s actions, especially those from BEFORE they were anything but enemies, back when he absolutely hated her, aren’t representative of who he is NOW. I can’t quite understand how that’s a concept that eludes you so badly, Anon.

Now, about the damn matter of him having an erotic dream about someone other than Azula, BEFORE having any about Azula (in case you didn’t notice, Sokka doesn’t tell June exactly WHEN he had this dream, so if you’re assuming it happened in recent times you’re basically only doing that to further rile up yourself against him? Which is, quite honestly, like shooting yourself in the foot): I take it you’ve never had any dreams in your life, have you, Anon? And I don’t mean erotic ones, I mean ANY dreams, whatsoever: can you control your dreams? Because if you can, boy, you’re pretty darn impressive! I’ve had some really ridiculous dreams, one that comes to mind was that I standing on a tight rope that I was suspended right above a waterfall, and I was about to fall. I was panicking like never before, despite the fact that, in real life, I’m not afraid of heights, I’ve never had any experiences with tight ropes and I think waterfalls are beautiful. And this is just ONE example, one very random example, of how dreams aren’t at all representative of a person’s true self.

Now then, please, tell me why on earth are you trying to hold this fictional man accountable for a completely random dream he had, BEFORE he had anything romantic with his love interest??? Can’t you tell how utterly unreasonable this is? It’s blowing me away that you’re not only clinging to this topic so badly, in this obsession to turn Sokka into some sort of monstrous, inadequate, terrible love interest for Azula, but that you’ve brought up this subject of him dreaming about one other woman in previous asks and submissions (that I didn’t answer because of how hard I facepalmed at them), as if it were ultimate proof of how untrustworthy he is. Normal people CAN’T control their dreams. Azula COULDN’T control her dream about Ursa back in Ember Island’s arc, she also couldn’t control the absolutely ridiculous dream she had in the Northern Air Temple, where she claims she’s carrying a baby for a friend! Are you going to come after her next, demanding that she is held accountable for having claimed she was carrying someone else’s fictional baby instead of proudly owning up to having a kid with the love of her life? Because, if you can tell that dream is just a pile of ridiculousness, I can’t see how you take this one of Sokka’s, which wasn’t even written because it was utterly irrelevant to the story, to mean ANYTHING. ESPECIALLY when said dream is explicitly said to have happened BEFORE he dreamt about Azula, which, once he wakes up, is what triggers his conscious, first real thoughts about Azula as a love interest!

*heavy breathing* Okay. Okay. That’s a lot to say. But I think I’m not done yet. I’m going to take advantage of this ask to quote a few things that have showed up in my inbox, that I didn’t reply to because I didn’t feel like it, plainly:

I wanted to know if Sokka would go the same way he did in the beginning with replacing Azula if she WOULD NOT be a princess?

... Why the hell is this even a question? The ENTIRE problem posed by Sokka and Azula’s relationship is that she IS a Princess and he’s a slave! Azula knows it! Sokka knows it! They both have thought and even outright said it countless times! How the heck does anyone, whether the same Anon as before or another one, if you were different people, read an ENTIRE story predicated on forbidden love between a Princess and a slave and not understand that the two main reasons these two SHOULDN’T want to be together, in the earliest arcs of the story, are:

She is RESPONSIBLE for turning him into a slave, which then caused him to spend 2 years suffering in what I THOUGHT was the worst possible depiction of the Fire Nation’s darkest tendencies but it apparently went over all your anon heads: he spent TWO YEARS holding the worst grudge against her for this, a grudge he still hasn’t completely let go of at chapter 28, hence why he continues to tell himself, back in those days, that he should hate her and why he doesn’t want to fall in love with her...

SHE IS A PRINCESS AND HE IS A SLAVE AND THERE’S NO WAY THEIR LOVE WILL HAVE A HAPPY ENDING UNLESS OZAI DIES, AZULA IS CROWNED AND SHE GETS TO MARRY HIM SO THEY CAN DO WHATEVER THEY WANT.

Seriously. It doesn’t take that much braining. It’s bloody stated constantly through the story. Will you people stop wondering why it’s important that she’s a Princess once we FINALLY reach Part 3 and the obvious consequences of their big romance are known? Or are you going to continue pretending there’s no reasons, whether characterization or world-building reasons, why these two have been keeping their relationship secret, and why the struggled that badly to cope with the feelings they developed for each other when they were in denial about it ages ago?

Anyways, if I really HAVE to answer this question, NO, if Sokka had started having feelings for a non-royal Azula and he didn’t think he’d ruin her life by acting on them, he wouldn’t have tried to flirt with Suki. He wouldn’t have slept with June. He wouldn’t have done any of the things he did in that arc, his reservations towards Azula wouldn’t be as strong as they are BECAUSE she’s a Princess, which means that being with her could outright cause her life to go to hell and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want that for Azula, even before he accepts his feelings for her. If he wouldn’t ruin her life, he probably would have been reluctant anyways due to their unresolved bad blood (point #1 up there?), but he wouldn’t have been so sure they CAN’T be together, so he wouldn’t even have flirted with Suki and this entire plot arc wouldn’t be necessary.

But that’s NOT the story we’re getting. Why? BECAUSE AZULA BEING A PRINCESS IS ESSENTIAL TO THE STORY??? I MEAN??? IS THIS REALLY SOMETHING I HAVE TO EXPLAIN??? SHE IS ONE IN CANON??? SHE IS ONE HERE??? WHY WOULDN’T SHE BE A PRINCESS???

... Dear god, have mercy on me. You really make me feel like I have devoted 7 years of my life to a huge waste of time if I can’t even get the most obvious plot points of the story across to you people.

One girl instance maybe but my shipper heart could never make Sokka get involved with SO MANY girls. 11? Will it keep growing?

This is the one Anon I was talking about earlier. Ha. Fucking HILARIOUS. Not only purposefully misunderstanding that it’s ELEVEN GIRLS, but asking if the number of girls Sokka will get involved with will increase beyond an already false number? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?

What does commitment mean to you, goddammit. What do you even think the word stands for? Seriously, if you were to fall in love with someone, and then it doesn’t work out, but you find a second person later who seems perfectly nice and everything you DO need... would you say “Oh no but I already soiled myself by loving someone else, I AM UNWORTHY OF YOU!!”, because you made a commitment in the past that didn’t pay off, which, for some fucked up reason beyond my understanding, means you can’t commit to someone new?

This is Disney Romance logic. Hell, Disney Romances are more complex than your thinking, actually! Anna from Frozen is ready to marry Hans, ends up realizing Hans was an asshole at the worst possible timing and goes for Kristoff later instead: are we going to stone her for not realizing Hans was the worst right away? How on EARTH could she commit to Kristoff now, when she had been ready to be with another guy BEFORE she even met him?!?!

Another example: Meg from Hercules! She falls for a guy, literally SELLS her soul to Hades for him, and the douchebag ditches her for another girl. At this point, Hercules (at least, film-wise) has been a perfectly pure virginal boy and he falls for Meg dorkily: IS MEG THE WORST WOMAN EVER, UNWORTHY OF HERCULES AND ALL HIS HARD WORK FOR HER, BECAUSE SHE ALREADY HAD LOVED ANOTHER GUY BEFORE HIM AND HERCULES DOESN’T HAVE AS MANY EXPERIENCES WITH LOVE AS SHE DOES???

Sounds extreme? Well, that is literally what that question sounds like to me, Anon.

People in this world get into as many relationships as they want to. People don’t always find love right away. People can fall in and out of love. People can have meaningless encounters with others just because they feel like it.

And even then, there’s a chance any of those people will eventually find someone they will be happy with, for good, for the rest of their lives! Why the HELL would their past have anything to do with their ability to commit to the “right” partner in the future? Commitment ISN’T about having no romances or relationships with anyone else until you found the right person: commitment is about THE RIGHT PERSON. It’s about CHOOSING that person, for good, for the rest of your life if that’s how you want it! If you’re “committed” to someone but all you ever do is look at how many people they were with before you, or thinking “he’s gonna cheat on me as soon as I tear my eyes off him”, YOU HAVE A PROBLEM. IT’S NOT YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER, IT’S YOU.

Because you don’t trust the guy! Because you refuse to believe his commitment to you is real! And hell, in some cases, maybe it’s not real! Maybe the person in question is going to cheat on you! But in some cases it is, and how the FUCK would you feel if you were in a relationship with someone who keeps assuming your love for them isn’t real? Someone who thinks your commitment to them is false because as soon as you find a better offer, you’ll go running and ditch them, no matter if you have said and proven you love them a thousand times? If that person kept trying to control who you’re friends with, who you talk to, if you’re close to anyone you COULD MAYBE HAVE any romantic history or attachment to? That’s fucking TOXIC. And that’s a thousand times worse than ANYTHING I’ve written between Azula and Sokka, just an FYI. I honestly despise how this shit has been romanticized often by newer generations, such as boyfriends or girlfriends going through their partner’s messages with other people to make sure they’re not being cheated on: this is sick. It’s stupid to be with someone if you’re CONSTANTLY SECOND-GUESSING YOUR RELATIONSHIP. FOR THAT MATTER, DON’T BE IN A RELATIONSHIP AT ALL.

And see, Azula hasn’t second-guessed Sokka in ages. She really hasn’t. After that conversation in 112, Azula UNDERSTOOD what I’ve been trying to tell you all along: Sokka’s past doesn’t determine his future. He often made mistakes, bad decisions, mostly making them as a consequence of the pain he has endured, but he’s making a constant effort to make the right decisions by Azula since AGES before they have this conversation. After June he has no other one-night-stands. He shows no real interest in any other girls. He outright begged Azula to help him get rid of his goddamn stalker, who HARASSED him and left her goddamn underwear in his bed (he bloody CHANGED the entire bed due to how disgusted he was by this behavior).

Please, explain: how the fuck you see a guy who has spent about 125 chapters conscisouly growing, developing and fully commiting himself to a girl as a guy who will cheat on her and have more relationships and find more girls?

Want me to come out with something you won’t see coming, dear Anon?

AZULA IS GOING TO HAVE AN EXPERIENCE WITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN SOKKA IN THE FUTURE, EVEN AFTER HAVING COMMITTED FULLY TO HIM IN EVERY SENSE THAT COUNTS. THE CRIME YOU’RE SO DAMN AFRAID SOKKA WILL COMMIT? IT’LL BE AZULA COMMITTING IT, NOT HIM.

And in the mean time, Sokka won’t ever be with anyone but Azula until the time he dies :’) something I’ve ALREADY answered in many asks in the past.

Wow. Spoilers much? Well, you fucking asked for it. I’m so damn tired of this, Anon. I’m seriously, SERIOUSLY, tired of this. But I HAVE to keep going :’) because if I don’t? You’ll come back. And I really don’t want you to.

Why did you absolutely want to make Sokka sleep with someone different that day? From my get Sokka was already angry at Azula and the things would've been not any different if he wouldn't have done it. So why did you have the need to make him sleep with someone that badly when things wouldnt be any different. Only the falling into forest wouldve been a bit different. I can't see why this sleeping with someone was so neccessary. Why was it important for you?

Why did I absolutely want it? I didn’t. I actually didn’t.

Here’s a funny secret: my beta at the time was the one to suggest Sokka could do this. I wasn’t exactly big on the idea, until the character of June popped in my head and I realized that actually might work within the story: she’s not only physically similar enough to Azula that I could get away with basically writing it as a Sokkla hate-sex scene until Sokka realizes it’s not her, but June is also a completely free-spirited character whose entire priorities in the world are money and her shirshu. That’s literally it. With a character like June? There was no need to worry about the unpleasant twists I often see in fics where the main couple aren’t together yet, and either one or both members of the couple go for other people until they finally choose to be together: June WASN’T going to fall in love with Sokka. She doesn’t give a flying fuck about him. She’s amused by the situation until she’s annoyed by him. Then she’s amused again when she connects the dots once she sees Azula and Sokka at the nasty town where they bump into each other. And she ONLY grows fond of Sokka at the same time as she grows fond of Azula: IN JEONG JEONG’S ARC :’) Before that? These two probably don’t even cross her mind outside of hearing occasional rumors about Azula, and then she probably just used to go “lol I wonder if she finally had the guts to make a move on him”.

Hence, June was my ideal choice. She didn’t care. She doesn’t give a single fuck in 28. She’s just in it for her own amusement, for her own satisfaction. Anyone else? An OC, Suki, anyone else who could’ve crossed my mind? They might have actually developed feelings for Sokka. And I didn’t want THAT. Hence, I didn’t do that. I chose June because I wanted this to be a bad moment that would stay in the past with no chances of rekindling in the future.

Now, why did I follow suit with my beta’s suggestion? Because she was right about one thing, at the time: Sokka isn’t committed to Azula at this point. Sokka is furious upon thinking he’s fallen into Azula’s web and he refuses to play her game. That he ends up sleeping with someone else, and going to her that night, and shouting all the things he does, was Sokka’s attempt to defy Azula’s eagerness to control his life, which, yes, she is attempting to do just that. She’s developing feelings for him, sure, but she doesn’t want him to be free to choose because she’s SURE he won’t ever choose her. A main element in Azula’s Part 1 character development was meant to be about teaching Azula that upon building a real, honest bond with Sokka, he’d end up choosing her above everything else, WHICH, BY THE TIME SHE’S LEARNED TO GIVE HIM SUCH FREEDOM, HE DOES.

Sokka isn’t a perfect romance lead. I never planned for him to be that. I have written perfect romance leads! Fact is, Rui Shi is basically that, isn’t he? So I don’t even have to dig around to find an example. Sokka was NEVER meant to be perfect. And his starting point with Azula is DREADFUL. He is absolutely attracted to her physically, but his constant resisting of their attraction results in him making terrible mistakes that he has to own up to, AND HE DOES :’) Constantly. He doesn’t EVER force Azula to think she must be committed to him, because he doesn’t even feel worthy of her most the damn time! All of it, due to those mistakes he made! Azula outright has to tell him to forgive himself because he just won’t do it! :’D He’s even worse about this than you are, Anon, fancy that!

And why isn’t Sokka a perfect romance lead, even if I’ve done my very best in recent arcs to make him as romantic and caring and giving towards Azula as he possibly can be? Because I don’t care for writing a static, boring, simplistic story. I just don’t. There’s too much baggage, too much drama, too many things Sokka and Azula HAD to resolve before their relationship reached the heights it has.

So, sure, let’s imagine Sokka doesn’t sleep with June. Then, Azula doesn’t know he’s ever been with someone else, because he’s ashamed of what he HAD TO DO in Hui Yi and doesn’t want her to know about it anyhow: once she finds out about it, she’ll feel a thousand times more betrayed than she already did because she would have wrongfully assumed he was every bit as pure as she was. How NICE it would be if he hadn’t been with anyone that night! :’)

But let’s focus on the plot for a sec, will we? Forget about Xin Long: if Sokka hadn’t met June beforehand, and she doesn’t understand what’s up with Sokka and Azula, June won’t give a single crap about Azula’s plight and won’t tell her where the Rough Rhinos went :’) then, chances are the Rough Rhinos escape. And if the Rough Rhinos escape, Azula’s first big successful mission is a failure. She doesn’t get lost with Sokka in the forest, she doesn’t find her dragon, she fails her father and she probably won’t have many other opportunities to prove herself in the future. Iroh gets away with proving Azula can’t fulfill Ozai’s expectations, and probably uses this as leverage to convince more of Ozai’s court that Zuko is a better candidate for the throne, considering he’s already the firstborn child :’)

LOVELY, ISN’T IT??? :’)

Sokka wasn’t that angry until he does sleep with June, because by then he confirms what he already suspects: he can’t get Azula out of his mind, no matter what. His ENTIRE plan with June (and Suki) was to get involved with any other woman so he could get rid of his feelings for Azula by basically transferring them to someone else. To break free from Azula’s influence on him. Why?

BECAUSE HE DOESN’T WANT TO LOVE THE WOMAN WHO, EVEN IF INDIRECTLY, PUT HIM THROUGH THE HELL OF HUI YI.

THE WOMAN WHO DRAGGED HIM AWAY FROM HOME.

THE WOMAN WHO HOLDS HERSELF RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYTHING THAT WENT WRONG IN SOKKA’S LIFE, EVEN IF SOKKA HIMSELF WON’T HOLD HER ACCOUNTABLE FOR MOST OF THESE THINGS ANYMORE.

No, I don’t think it’s unreasonable for him to feel this way about Azula. They had been getting to know each other for a few months, sure! But half that process had been arguments and spats, clashes and problems that sometimes had terrible outcomes. Remember Azula was outright ready to ditch Sokka as her gladiator after his second fight? She was DETERMINED to do that, until she received a challenge by the Blind Bandit, and she took advantage of this challenge to TEST SOKKA. TO SEE IF HE HAD LEARNED HIS LESSON, ONLY FOR HIM TO END UP HALF-DEAD AS A RESULT.

Can’t you tell both of them made a thousand mistakes, ESPECIALLY at the start of the story?

IT’S NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT’S DELIBERATE. I WANTED THEM TO MAKE THOSE MISTAKES! BECAUSE CHARACTERS WHO MAKE MISTAKES LEND THEMSELVES FOR BETTER STORIES!

I am sick to my core of the Internet’s purity bullshit of the past years. It’s disgusting to me. The fact that I’ve read there are writers out there who are outright whitewashing their own characters’s worst traits in major media content instead of working them out narratively? It makes me want to hurl. This is NOT quality storytelling. If you, as a writer, choose a setting with specific strife and difficult themes, you don’t get away with shirking off those themes and pretending they’re not there because “oh no, someone will be uncomfortable and I can’t possibly risk that!” You don’t write a character as racist on one season only to downplay the racism in later seasons, with no development needed, so that people won’t hate that character as much as they used to (that link is a specific, direct example of what I’m referring to, one that hopefully will explain why, when my characters fuck up, I do my best to make them 1. own up to it 2. learn from it 3. never make the same mistakes again :’) but I don’t even know if you’ll bother watching five minutes of an explanation, considering you’ll probably stopped reading my reply about 5K words ago).

Hence, I wrote Sokka making the mistakes he made DELIBERATELY. 100% KNOWINGLY. I knew there would be people uncomfortable with it: I’M UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT! I don’t like this particular element of my story! But do I think it was necessary? YES. Because with the conflict triggered by BOTH Azula and Sokka’s mistakes during the earliest arcs of the story, their characters DEVELOP. They GROW. They CHANGE. Without such development, there’s NO WAY the story would be where it is now. And maybe you’d be fine with that, but I sure as fuck am not. Gladiator isn’t exempt of flaws, of course it’s not, and I have no delusions of the opposite, but what you’re so obsessed with isn’t necessarily a flaw, it’s merely something you personally disliked and that you can’t seem to get over!

Which... begs the question. It really does.

WHY ARE YOU READING A STORY THAT MAKES YOU SO UNCOMFORTABLE?

I thought making Sokka work for Azula’s forgiveness to such humiliating extent (she literally walks over him at one point? He keeps shrinking and wincing and being completely mild and meek around her because he’s that sorry for what he did? He virtually STARVES himself in the forest so Azula can eat because she’s the one that matters, not himself?) would somehow make people like you, and as far as I know, many others, realize that Sokka was genuinely sorry. That Sokka had finally understood where he’d gone wrong, and that he would never misunderstand Azula’s feelings and intentions that way again.

Clearly, I was the one who was wrong. Because yep, it’s not just you, there’s a ton of people out there who can’t seem to get over what Sokka did in those chapters, or what he did in Hui Yi. And you know, I really think it’s unfair? Both on the characters, and on me as the writer? Because it’s not like I swept things under a rug, like in that link I gave you up there: I put Sokka through the wringer constantly, in fact, to the point where I even have thought it was too much! And beyond that... Sokka meant to stay by Azula’s side as her gladiator and nothing more, at first. Once they finally talk things through, that’s what they’re determined to be: there’s still lingering feelings, but their plan is to NOT act on them. And yes, it’s true, Sokka has one slip-up when Azula helps him cope with his feelings in chapter 50! But that’s what it’s framed as: a slip-up. He was impulsive, unable to hold back the emotions that led him to kiss her, and she kisses him back until they both realized this WASN’T supposed to happen between them ever again. Then, Sokka looks after Azula while she’s sick, and all his protective instincts are triggered... to the point where he realizes he outright LOVES Azula.

And even then, Sokka doesn’t act on his feelings again until Ember Island, point at which he only acts on them to show Azula she is NOT the monster she thinks she is. He does it FOR HER. He outright refrains from taking their exchanges as far as he deeply wanted them to go, because this is NOT ABOUT HIM. He wanted to make sure Azula would feel better, that she would understand she’s only human, and that her worst sides don’t make her any less human than anyone else.

My point is: I didn’t make Sokka work as hard as he did because he thought he’d get it on with Azula if he earned her forgiveness. I didn’t make Sokka fall in love with Azula while thinking only of himself, his feelings, his needs, above hers: IT’S THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF THAT. This guy is so in love with her he forgets himself with her, he’d die for her, hell, he’d even KILL for her, when one of Sokka’s biggest traumas EVER is about having to kill people. He doesn’t want to do that EVER AGAIN. And yet, if it’s for Azula’s sake, he will sacrifice his soul as many times as he must to keep her safe.

But the biggest thing I have to stress here? Sokka would have been willing to do every single one of those things for her even if Azula hadn’t wanted anything romantic to happen between them ever again.

If Azula had rejected him, kept him at bay, and the story had turned into an unbearable pining soap opera forevermore, Sokka would STILL do everything he has done for Azula. He wouldn’t expect her to love him back. He wouldn’t make demads of her in those regards. He would only love her as he does, because that’s what love is for this man. That’s what I developed him for. And if you don’t care to see it, Anon, that’s 100% on you, because I KNOW that’s what is there. You can’t simply take two instances of Sokka saying two stupid things and annul 188 chapters of Sokka developing into a man who would outright choose Azula OVER HIS OWN FAMILY. If you can’t understand the magnitude of this decision, how much it means for Sokka, SOKKA, to choose someone above his family? Above his people? Then you’ve got a real serious problem with grasping Sokka’s character. A very, very serious one. Probably since canon.

So... to finish off this particular subject: IT’S IMPORTANT FOR ME BECAUSE I WANT MY CHARACTERS TO GROW, CHANGE AND DEVELOP. AND THAT’S WHY I TOOK MY BETA UP ON THAT SUGGESTION AS I DID. I DON’T WANT MY CHARACTERS TO BE PERFECT RIGHT OFF THE BAT BECAUSE IT’S WRONG, IT’S BORING, IT’S NOT EVEN IC. IT MAKES NO SENSE TO ME, AS A WRITER, TO WRITE ABOUT CHARACTERS WHO CAN DO NO WRONG AND WHO NEVER HAVE TO CHANGE THEIR WAYS. BOTH AZULA AND SOKKA HAVE HAD TO GROW A TON THROUGHOUT GLADIATOR, AND IF YOU CAN’T SEE SOKKA’S GROWTH FOR YOURSELF, I’M PRETTY DAMN SURE IT’S BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE IT.

Sooo sick of people stories ALWAYS let men fuck be the lucky one and get the perfect woman who gives herself COMPLETELY to him. Then man says „its in the past I love you only" wtf? Sleep with others use it on Azula his 9th on the list. I respect you for being so strong and writing this as a girl. I get the crisis, so tired. Kudos Azula for letting herself in his arms so comfortably. I REALLY wish I could do this too. At least Suki and Song are lucky. Sorry for venting I'm just broken and stupid

I have no idea if this is you too. Maybe it is. But if not, I’m quoting it too, because why the fuck not. Why the fuck not.

I suppose I can at least commend this one for knowing Azula is the 9th rather than the 12th, huh? At least they read that much right.

To this Anon: please, stop venting about this to the writer who apparently disappointed you that badly for making a decision that is consistent with the situation the characters are in.

Frankly, I’m absolutely grossed out by the people who seem to think Azula, Princess Azula unto whom I’ve forced horrible purity societal pressures that ARE UNFAIR AND MAKE NO SENSE, AND SHE CONSTANTLY SAYS SO THROUGH THE STORY, should have had as many experiences as Sokka so that “they’re even”. The bloody audacity to look at what Sokka went through in Hui Yi and think “WELL BUT IT’S SEX SO AZULA SHOULD HAVE LOTS OF GUYS TOO!” completely BAFFLES me.

Literally, Azula’s ONLY experience before Sokka, AKA, CHAN, is a thousand times healthier and more genuine than ANYTHING Sokka ever went through. And nobody is fucking throwing a fit about that.

Why do I say this? :D

NOBODY WAS FORCING AZULA TO KISS CHAN. NOT IN CANON. NOT IN GLADIATOR

AZULA LIKED CHAN AND DELIBERATELY CHOSE TO GO FOR HIM BECAUSE SHE FELT LIKE IT. NO ONE WAS MAKING THIS CHOICE FOR HER.

AZULA WASN’T PRETENDING CHAN WAS SOMEONE ELSE WHILE SHE KISSED HIM. SHE WAS PERFECTLY FULFILLED BY KISSING A GUY FOR THE FIRST TIME BECAUSE THAT’S LITERALLY WHAT SHE WAS LOOKING FOR.

Meanwhile: Sokka is FORCED to be with the women in Hui Yi. Someone is going to outright either hurt or kill them if he doesn’t do it.

Meanwhile: Sokka didn’t necessarily like any of the women he was with, not the Hui Yi ones, not June. June merely wants mindless fucking, Sokka tells her from the start he doesn’t think it will work at all: IT DOESN’T. It’s JUNE being forward. At worst, Sokka can be blamed for not putting a harsh stop to June before anything happened. But he wasn’t even the one with the initiative: JUNE WAS. In Hui Yi, goes without saying, he didn’t get to choose, they basically would just go to him and he’d do what he had to do. The fucking end.

Meanwhile: Sokka was dead-like with June up until he lets himself imagine she’s Azula, the only way for him to actually go forward with what’s going on. Afterwards, HE’S APPALLED WITH HIMSELF. HE’S MISERABLE. HE’S UNHAPPY.

Azula had the normal, nice, socially acceptable teenage experience of having a brief crush on a guy and trying to see if something would come from it: SOKKA HAS BEEN A SLAVE EVER SINCE CHAPTER 2. Their social positions are MILES apart. And, as free as Sokka is to fuck whoever he wants: HE DOESN’T CHOOSE, DELIBERATELY, TO DO SO. He only does it in Hui Yi and with June, and after realizing with June that this just won’t work because he won’t get Azula off his mind, HE DOESN’T SLEEP WITH ANYONE ELSE UNTIL HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH AZULA BEGINS.

You’re basically pretending that a slave, in the lowest of levels in society, lives his life freely without restraint, just as a girl at the top of the world can. They both have very specific problems: Azula is forced NOT to be with anyone until marriage, whether she wants someone or not, whereas Sokka ends up getting sex FORCED ON HIM. Completely, radically opposite sides of a spectrum that I’ve done my damnedest to build up believably and understandably. But all this just goes over your head, right? You’d much rather ignore and annul my entire fucking worldbuilding, just because it tickles you poorly that the guy in this story has more experience in sex than the girl. You’re throwing major themes in Gladiator out the window (Azula outright fighting to demand actual equality instead of the subtle, constant, undermining sexism the Fire Nation is permeated with), because it makes you personally uncomfortable for a girl to be a virgin and a guy not to be (despite, in this day and age, there’s A LOT of content in the world where characters involved are either perfectly virginal or equally promiscuous, and you could be enjoying that instead of reading Gladiator).

Newsflash: you’re just as bad as the people who demand virginity and purity from women if you demand it from men.

Nobody is LESS or MORE of a person because of how many people they sleep with. NOBODY. This shouldn’t even have to be said. I can’t even believe that it NEEDS to be, but I’m saying it anyways. It’s absolutely STUPID to me that there’s readers out here that weigh everything in regards of how many people someone has been with. What sort of backwards mentality is this?

By far, Gladiator-wise, NO ONE has slept with as many people as Ty Lee has.

NO ONE.

Where’s the goddamn shitfest at Ty Lee for this? Haru had a few experiences before being with her, sure! But they were NOTHING compared to the amount Ty Lee had. Ty Lee did whatever the hell she wanted since her teenage years, with whoever she wanted, and she got away with it until she was caught. Then, Azula stepped in to help her avoid total social annihilation! :’D why?

BECAUSE IT SHOULDN’T MATTER HOW MANY PEOPLE TY LEE HAS BEEN WITH. BECAUSE AZULA KNOWS TY LEE’S WORTH AS A HUMAN BEING HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HOW “PURE” SHE MAY BE BEFORE MARRIAGE.

JUST AS AZULA’S OWN WORTH IS FAR AND BEYOND AND ABOVE THAT SHIT :’)

And god, it’s just so ridiculous! Soooo ridiculous! That I’m out here, writing a huge story that’s meant to feature, eventually, the big fallout resulting of the discovery of Azula’s long-gone purity, a fallout that Azula will be fighting against with all her might, trying to defend her right to live her life, to love whoever she wants, to defend her worth and value as a person and resist the traditionalistic oppressive tyranny of her own FATHER...!

And you’re out here, fucking shitting yourself in rage, because Sokka has had more sexual partners and experiences than Azula.

It’s fascinating for the whole POINT of the story to soar so far over your head that you just can’t even see it anymore. For you to be so hung up on stuff Sokka did between chapters 2-3 and in chapter 28, AND NOTHING MORE, as if THAT is what determines Sokka’s worth as a human being and as Azula’s partner. And damn, try as I might, I can’t make someone learn better if they’re stuck with this mentality because they truly believe that if you’ve had more partners you’re somehow worse than by having less. I can’t. It’s up to you people to get over this attitude, because I can’t do more to teach you human nuance and complexity than I already have. I’m too tired to try anymore.

And of course, writers shouldn’t have to defend their work as I’m defending mine now. I should probably just lie down and take the criticism I’m tossed without complaint, shouldn’t I? I mean, haha, I also got this Anon, so very considerately, saying:

Hello I am that anon who asked you the Sokka sleeping with someone question. I think you shouldn't stress or get angry and hurt when you get question about this matter. It is a big and questiniongly part of your story. No one can judge your talent or you but people can ask questions about this or can't they? Its just that it was not neccessary for some readers seems like.

Which, I think, is probably the first person all over again.

I SHOULDN’T get stressed or angry or hurt? Oh, wow. So, on top of everything, I can’t even have feelings. I’m supposed to be a fucking doormat :’) beautiful. I love it.

Have you taken notice of how many asks I’ve already quoted in this answer? That’s not even half of what I’ve had in my inbox pertaining this subject, whether from you or someone else. Back when the story was starting? I got asks about this VERY OFTEN, by someone who eventually came back and apologized (and boy, do I hope that none of the asks I’ve quoted were sent by that person, I seriously hope they didn’t backtrack on their apparent understanding of what I was doing with the story), and I don’t even know how many others too. It was people, just like you, who would read over my answers and just cherrypick the story trying to find any excuses to villify Sokka and paint him as undeserving and ungrateful and I don’t even know what else regarding Azula and their bond. Whether because he slept with a “ton” of people or because he made her cry or because of whatever reason you want to choose.

... When Azula can be fucking held responsible for literally making Sokka suicidal.

Fucking grapple with that for a sec, can you? :’) Imagine what it’s like falling in love with someone who once hurt you so badly you thought you wanted your life to be over. Do tell me how easily you’d get over your reservations, LONG before this person even SAYS SHE’S SORRY. BECAUSE. HAHA. AZULA DIDN’T EVEN APOLOGIZE FOR IT FOR FIFTY-FIVE CHAPTERS. JUST AN FYI. AND NONE OF YOU. NOOOONE OF YOU. GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THAT DETAIL. IT’D BE HILARIOUS IF IT WEREN’T SO OUTRAGEOUS.

Anyways. Getting back on track: people HAVE asked questions about this. Constantly. Consistently. Without restraint, ever since I first wrote it. Without bloody bothering to go through my blog first and find out if maaaaybe I’ve already addressed their concerns. And the worst part? I’ve actually had many askers, countless anons, lots of people talking to me about many things. Yes, I’ve had a million arguments on Tumblr, and not everything ended well.

But pal. Pal. Guess what’s the only subject that KEEPS ON COMING RIGHT BACK, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I DEAL WITH IT, AND IT’S ALWAYS, ALWAYS, WITH THE SAME SPECIFIC “SOKKA IS THE WORST” FOCUS???? :’)

Think about something you did seven years ago. Be it something you were proud of, or something you’re sad about, or just something that you really don’t think much of anymore, because you’ve moved on from that since ages ago.

And then imagine spending seven years. Receiving questions. Constantly. Whether rude or not. Whether thoughtful or not (usually the latter, tbh). Whether necessary or not. Whether already answered or not. About that very thing you’ve been over. That very specific thing from SEVEN YEARS AGO.

I’m tired, Anon, of dealing with this specific subject, because everyone who has come to me with this BS has been a pain in the ass: THEY KEEP COMING BACK. YOU’RE NOT THE FIRST ONE WHO DOES. IT’S INCREDIBLE. I’ve answered a thousand asks, and I do get follow-up questions sometimes, but NEVER as many or as frequently as THIS! And the part that I just can’t believe is that there’s people who write stuff that are thousands of times more complicated than what I did here (in terms of giving the characters even MORE love interests, like, genuine love triangles and actual love involved rather than a mere quick thing), and I don’t see anyone giving them a single hint of grief for that. Not even a smidge, not even if they leave the subject up in the air or unresolved later on. I’ve read stories that feature pairings I’m absolutely uncomfortable with, actual pairings that have a longer lasting relationship in the story than the pairing I was reading for! There’s literally a story in another fandom where the main relationship lasts, what, 6 months? Maybe? And then they break up. And then the guy goes on to have a fuckbuddy for YEARS. Meaning, the relationship with the fuckbuddy is longer and more stable than the ship the story is actually marked for.

And I didn’t give the writer even the SLIGHTEST grief for it.

Why the hell do you (and everyone else who has been so hung up about this subject) feel the need, or the entitlement, to determine that I need to put up with these questions? That I somehow earned them and need to answer them every time? Because, heh, I outright stopped answering for a long time because I didn’t want to. Because I was TIRED. Because I hoped, fruitlessly, that if I didn’t give you guys the attention you were so desperate for, you’d eventually get bored or realize that I DON’T CARE FOR THIS SUBJECT ANYMORE. I AM OVER IT. I HAVE BEEN OVER IT FOR AGES.

But SOMEHOW, getting me to the point where I’d be stressed, upset, outraged and annoyed was absolutely worth it for you guys. Seriously, what the hell do you think I am? A big monolith that just spews words and has zero emotions whatsoever? I’ve given SEVEN YEARS of my life to this story. Have you ever done this for ANYTHING in your life? Have you ever devoted yourself to a project to this extent? No? Then you don’t get to dictate whether I should be annoyed, upset, angry, irritated or whatever the fuck I feel when I get asks as persistent, thoughtless and devoid of proper reflection as the ones I CONSTANTLY get over 28 and everything related to Sokka’s past with named and nameless women alike.

And hey, just so you know, someone recently said they thought it wasn’t necessary for Whaletail Island’s arc to end as it did. That there shouldn’t be a 1-year interval until Sokka can meet his family, his FATHER, again. That Katara, Aang, Zuko and Kino totally should have stayed outside the South Pole and helped fight against Ozai merely because the Gaang was FINALLY together!!!

... Conveniently forgetting the ENTIRE purpose for the South Pole group’s trip to Whaletail Island was for them to find food with which they could help a starving, dying village.

So excuse me if some people “questioning” my story doesn’t make me question my choices the way you guys apparently expect me to. Because at this point, the “questioning” I’m receiving is honestly so thoughtless, so poorly conceived, just done for YOUR SUBJECTIVE CONVENIENCE, without taking the full picture into account, even in situations like this one, where it’s bloody obvious Zuko won’t go fight the Fire Nation when his wife and child could be the next ones to bite the dust and that’s the whole reason he even left??? I’m not even talking about the bigger picture that I get to see as a writer, I mean the bigger picture in regards of character feelings and motivations... you people do see that. You have it, explained outright, perhaps too explained! Hell, if my literature teachers read Gladiator they’d likely cringe at how often I SPELL EVERYTHING OUT instead of leaving a few things for the reader to fill the gaps! Oh, but naaaaah, I have to come here, spend HOURS of my day answering asks about why Sokka got to sleep with people when Azula didn’t, and why do I think he’s loyal to her if he did that before he was committed to Azula, and if he’s going to sleep with more people because of COURSE, if he was with anyone else before her it means he will be again in the future...!

When I could be using all this time to actually work on stuff that I DO want to work on. Namely, building up the story further. With some very dark, serious, difficult developments that I’m trying to be in the right place to write.

And asks like these? They sure as fuck don’t help. Not only do they distract me, they have NOTHING to do with what I’m working on right now. I’ve considered the subject of Sokka’s past experiences as closed and DONE since chapter 112, and I don’t need you, or anyone else, to come to me and beg for more explanations than the pretty damn extensive ones you already got in a PRETTY DAMN EXTENSIVE STORY.

If you still read Gladiator at this point. If you reach chapter 187 and see a Sokka who hugs Azula, twirls her in midair, damn near crying of bliss because she said she loved him in public, in front of their siblings, a Sokka who is choosing to stay with her, without a shred of a doubt, with his heart COMPLETELY set on HER, instead of going back to a family who used to be THE ONLY THING he cared about in life, and you somehow conclude “this guy would totally cheat on Azula if he had the chance”... then I’m sorry but I HAVE every right to be angry. I have every right to be completely beside myself as I am.

Because you’re basically saying that I spent SEVEN YEARS developing this character, this relationship, this story, and it went to waste. Because you refuse to believe, for personal reasons, that Sokka is in any way deserving of his bond with Azula. Because somehow you think this is CONTRADICTORY, when merely looking at things with a slightly more open mind, reveals that this isn’t contradiction: IT’S NUANCE. It’s COMPLEXITY. It’s the fact that a character can change their mind about certain things, they can deplore certain mistakes they made, they can regret their actions in retrospect, and my characters? They sure do that. All the bloody time. Azula does it constantly, and for good reason. But it just goes right over your head, and it’s because you want it to. I refuse to believe you can’t understand what I’ve explained before, and what I’m explaining now: you don’t want to understand it, which is different. You want to condemn Sokka, and you want to feel validated in your discomfort about one specific, long-resolved plot point of the story, demanding for explanations of why it was necessary when you really don’t care for the explanations: you just wish it hadn’t happened at all.

And great! You can wish that all you like! Why the hell not? But you don’t get to pelt me day after day with criticism that falls apart easier than a card castle as soon as I take a look at what I wrote in the story, only to then pick ANOTHER quote, OUT OF CONTEXT, to once again present your case of why this is just wrong and bad and not written the way you want it to be.

I’ve received legitimate, valid criticism of many aspects of Gladiator. I always ended up feeling pretty bad after, but the valid ones? I realized, even if it hurt, that they were true. That some of that made sense. That, if I got to write this story all over again, I probably should fix those details and not get overwhelmed by my excitement to get to the meat of the story, which is why some developments of the introduction arc are so rushed compared to everything else. It was my inexperience, my mistake. I’ve made mistakes later on too, and I’ve taken note of them as well, despite I’m doing my best to incorporate them into the story as seamlessly as possible so that they even tie in with canon fairly well. In short, I don’t believe Gladiator is perfect, and sometimes when people tell me as much? I know they’re right. I take what I can from that, and learn from it, if possible.

But this? The criticism I’ve received for 28, and for Sokka’s past, is 100% subjective, CONSTANTLY. I’ve never read any that genuinely makes me go “oh well that’s a good point, maybe it’s OOC or maybe I could’ve done it differently to the exact same results without the same elements”. It’s always, to varying degrees, “I hate that you’re writing for one specific ship but allowed one member of the ship to have experiences with other people before he really got together with his one true love and I’m going to pester you about it until I finally get bored of making you rant and ramble for hours to no avail because I won’t listen to anything you say”.

So, yes. I feel justified in lashing right back at you for the backlash. Because this isn’t just you, it’s a lot of people, like you said! And you’re ALL free to hate what happened, I’ve never said you have to like it and I never will. But if you’re going to criticize? You’re open for criticism too. Fact is, if you wanted to actually talk about this properly? You’d get off anon and we’d have (I hope) a decent conversation via messaging about ALL that bothers you about this story. I’d even be a thousand times more civil than I have been so far! And why would I act so differently? Because you’re an anon. Because you’re HIDING. And from the shadows, you toss all this criticism at me and then whine because I don’t like it. Well, own up to your own shit too, Anon. If you wanted a real debate, if you had the ARGUMENTS for a real debate, we could have one just fine. But you don’t. And if you get the privilege of anonymity, I get the privilege of speaking my mind with zero regard of your feelings, because that’s basically how you, and all the anons I’ve quoted (whether they’re you or anyone else) have behaved as so far.

Yes, I write, and I post what I write online, which leaves the gateway open for criticism for sure.

It doesn’t give you the right to be this persistent of an asshole to the point of saying I have no right to be annoyed by your questions. You don’t have the slightest idea of how much work I’ve put into Gladiator for the past seven years. You don’t have the slightest grasp of character development if you don’t understand THAT is what’s been happening with Sokka all along. And you don’t get to decide how I feel about your asks, or anyone else’s.

You can send another ask about ANYTHING regarding this subject, be it my inability to handle “criticism”, or chapter 28, or chapters 111-112 and their respective revelations about Sokka’s past, or your presumed belief that Sokka will be with a thousand women despite he’s completely committed to Azula by now... but this time I mean it: YOU’RE NOT GETTING ANOTHER ANSWER OUT OF ME. I’ve had it. This is the last straw. I’m done discussing this subject, and I’ll outright change my askbox’s message for you to remember that if you try to pull this again.

Now then. Can I finally go back to working on my story, or must I continue to invest HOURS of my day spelling out all the writing decisions I’ve made that you can’t make your peace with?

Please, Anon: get over it. If you can’t, stop reading. You’ll be happier that way. And so will I. I’m in no place, emotionally, for this kind of BS on my inbox all the damn time. Give me a goddamn break if you truly have any respect for what I do.

#anon #gladiator chapter 28 #gladiator chapter 112 #I've had enough #this fucking answer is so long #and I know it won't serve any purpose #I mean if you've read enough to reach chapter 112 and still can't SEE the shit I'm spelling out for you #obviously an ask isn't going to fix anything either #but maybe?#maybe you'll understand how done I am with this #if nothing else #enough is enough

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silverynight · 5 years ago

Text

A second chance

Newt doesn't do things like that, but the man he met at the pub was so charming and nice and at least appeared to be really interested in what he was saying that he couldn't stop himself from accepting the invitation to his flat.

He needed to feel close to someone that night.

Percival was his name; Newt remembers it perfectly because he moaned and screamed that name a couple of times then. He was a kind lover that pleasured Newt in every way possible.

They fell asleep in each other's arms, even though Newt had promised himself he wouldn't stay the night.

The next day he woke up early and it took him a couple of minutes to rise from the bed because the man's arms were like a vice around his waist. He was holding Newt against himself like he didn't want to let him go.

But the magizoologist was anxious and afraid; he didn't want to see the look of disappointment in those dark eyes when he realized Newt was still there.

He didn't want Percival to ask him to go or tell him that it was just a one time thing and that he shouldn't expect anything else. They were different, it was very much obvious by the impeccable way Percival was dressed and the luxury Newt saw in his flat.

So Newt decided to go.

And now it's been two years and Newt still remembers that day every time he comes back to New York. But now he has friends to think of, now he should start forgetting about what happened that night.

"You should come to MACUSA with us today, Newt," Queenie says, smiling from ear to ear.

"He IS going to come," Tina narrows her eyes at her friend. "I've told you, you need those permits to stay here."

"But what if your boss decides to take my case away?" Newt mumbles, already pulling it against his chest protectively.

"We've already talked about this, Newt..." Tina sighs.

"Mr. Graves is not bad, sweetie," Queenie assures him. "He can be a little bit grumpy sometimes, but that's because he's still hurt because someone broke his heart two years ago."

"Are you telling me the rumors are true?" The auror looks back in surprise at her sister. "I thought it was because Grindelwald's case..."

"He's just hurt. He's a softie actually," Queenie chuckles. "And a romantic. He believes that was the love of his life."

Newt feels bad for the man, but he's still a little bit nervous.

Although he decides to go to MACUSA that day.

"It's going to be fine," Tina assures him. "I bet he's going to be so busy he's not even going to look at you when I introduce you two."

He is, in fact, busy... Although perhaps a little bit more than Tina had anticipated; Madam President is in his office, along with a few aurors looking at whatever Graves is showing them on his desk.

He looks... familiar.

"What is it, Goldstein?" The Director still doesn't look up and the office is a bit dark, so Newt can't look at his face.

But he has a bad feeling.

"I wanted to I introduce you to... But actually I can wait, Sir... Sorry for the interru–"

Finally, Graves looks up because he has realized his aurors are not paying attention to him anymore and when his eyes meet Newt's the magizoologist can't help but gasp. The director frowns, but his expression changes quickly in the blink of an eye.

Gra–Percival recognizes him.

"Newt?" The man mumbles, expression neutral and shoulders tense.

Aware that everyone is looking at him now, Newt blushes to the tip of his ears, thinking about how unlucky he is...

Percival takes a step closer, cursing when he bumps into his own desk, trying to get closer to Newt. The aurors are in shock and Picquery is watching almost fascinated.

"Why did you leave?"

That's it; Newt starts panicking, thinking that Percival is furious with him because of what happened that day and he hugs his case tightly before bolting out of the room.

***

"What do you mean he's not a good mate for me, Pickett?" Newt mumbles, still pacing next to the bench in Central Park. "I think it's actually... the other way around."

The bowtruckle keeps rambling furiously, although Newt is not paying much attention. Percival must be mad at him, he's still not sure why though, but he... he has to be. If Tina finds out she'll get mad too... right?

He should go back to England, it's been a while since he visited his brother... And putting some distance between Percival and him seems like a really good idea at the moment.

Why does he have to be the Director of Magical Security? Tina's boss no less, the man who can refuse Newt the permits he needs if he wants to.

"Newt!" The magizoologist freezes when he hears that deep voice again; he used to like that voice a lot (he still does).

When someone puts a hand over his shoulder he turns around just to look into those dark eyes again.

"Did you follow me?" He blurts out and Percival's cheeks turn slightly pink which is a pretty clear and affirmative answer on its own.

"I just want to talk to you, Newt... please."

The magizoologist relaxes and finds himself nodding at him; Percival smiles or at least tries to before clearing his throat.

"What do you want to talk about?" Newt is still nervous and perhaps his question is a little bit unnecessary, but he can't help it, he needs to prepare himself for what is coming.

Percival's lips part, although it seems what it comes from his mouth it's not exactly what he was planning to say.

"Are you seeing someone?"

"No."

There's a glimmer of hope in his eyes Newt manages to see for a couple of seconds, right before Percival's eyes look at Newt's coat.

He frowns.

"Is that a bowtruckle in your pocket?" He sighs and then looks around. "There are muggles here, Newt!"

"Nobody saw him, I swear!" Newt takes a step back, feeling the anxiety returning to his body. Percival must've noticed too, because he looks like he regrets scolding him.

"Sorry, Newt... it's just–I'm not very good at talking about my feel–"

A girl bumps into the Director's shoulder purposely and bats her eyelashes at him, but the only thing she gets in response it's a glare.

Newt takes the opportunity to walk away again and feels immediately bad for doing it, especially after hearing Percival calling out for him.

***

"I should apologize," he mumbles miserably, putting his hands over his face. He can hear Queenie's heels as she walks around in the living room and to the kitchen.

"Everything's going to be fine, honey," she assures him. "Although maybe you should hear what he wants to say, huh? I have a feeling it's something good... for both of you."

Newt bites his bottom lip; he definitely should apologize, he decides... Because Percival just wanted to talk and he practically bolted the two times he tried to say something.

He didn't want to be rude, but there's something about Percival that makes him feel nervous, even though that thing between them happened a long time ago.

"Maybe you still feel something for him... And that's why you're acting like that," Queenie offers and instead of reminding her not to read his mind Newt decides to shut up.

Because she's right. He's afraid of what he's feeling when he's around Percival. He doesn't want to feel something for him, because that would end up hurting him.

Percival doesn't like him that way.

"You don't know that, sweetie."

Tina walks in the flat and looks at Newt almost with relief.

"I'm glad you decided to come back here," she says; Newt notices she doesn't close the door behind her. "Boss has been asking about you..."

"Did you tell him–"

"I did," Tina says and moves away to let Percival in.

When he looks at Newt this time there's no more hope in his eyes, but a glimpse of sadness that the magizoologist doesn't like to see on him.

"I think it's pretty much clear you don't want to see me again, but I need to talk to you about that day and then I promise I won't bother you anymore."

Newt would like to see him again... he'd love to see him more often, but he can't make himself say that so he nods instead. Percival gets closer, carefully, like he doesn't want to scare him off.

"I'm sorry for running away," Newt mumbles, blushing.

"It's okay," Percival says and almost smiles at him.

"Come on, Teenie, help me with the dinner," Queenie says and both sisters disappear in the kitchen.

Percival sits next to him on the couch, but on the other side of it.

"Why did you leave that morning?" The Director whispers. "It's because of something I did? I didn't... hurt you, did I?"

Newt's face turns so red he feels like his cheeks are burning.

"Not at all," he assures. "I enjoyed it quite a l-lot."

"Then why–"

"I thought you didn't want me there... In the morning I mean... I thought you just wanted to have sex."

"You thought it was just a one night stand?" Percival looks outraged when he says it. "I know there's nothing wrong with that, but I thought it was obvious I was... completely in love with you."

Newt chokes, his heart is beating so hard into his chest he hears him like it's right in his ears.

"You... were?"

"I still am," Percival says, looking more confident as he watches Newt's reaction. "I was already planning on making you breakfast and asking you out and I would have probably begged you to move in with me."

"Oh," Newt mumbles, overwhelmed by his own emotions. Percival moves closer and takes Newt's hands in his. "I didn't–I just didn't want to get hurt, I didn't want you to tell me I had to go so I just–"

"You left."

"I'm sorry."

"Would you like to try again?" Percival whispers, nervous but still hopeful. "My feelings for you haven't changed and I–"

Newt has always been better at doing things than talking so he leans in and kisses the auror on the lips. He doesn't get to pull away and see if he did the right thing because Percival kisses back then and Newt suddenly remembers that he is an excellent kisser.

"They'll get married in less than six months," Queenie tells her sister in the kitchen, prompting her to roll her eyes.

She actually makes a bet in MACUSA, after everyone finds out about Graves and his darling. Picquery is the only one that joins her because everyone else thinks it'll take a year for their boss to propose.

Queenie and the President end up winning a lot of money by the end of December.

***

Support my fics here!

#gramander #percival graves #newt scamander #fantastic beasts #fbawtft

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fynctsbuuuts · 6 years ago

Text

Just Say Yes; Johnny Seo

Pairing: Johnny Seo X reader

Genre: Kinda angst..?

Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny or any member I write for. I only own the writing. The description I am portraying them to be are not accurate at all. Everything I write is fiction, please don't take anything to heart.

A/N: Full credit to the owner and creator of the picture.

There were no words to describe the feeling Johnny felt in his chest when ever he saw her. Especially, whenever he saw her cradling a child in her arms. The sight was so stunning, she was so delicate, loving and attentive over every child that crossed her path. It was a sight that exited him for a future with her.

He wanted nothing more than to buy the most beautiful, most expensive ring for her, all for her. He wanted the hectic life of planning a wedding. Wanted to see her pacing around the room, stress radiating off of her because she couldn't find the perfect dress. He wanted to walk behind her and warp his long arms around her waist, whispering into her ear that she'd look beautiful in anything, even a trash bag. Causing her to laugh. Oh her beautful laughter.

He wanted that. He wanted to have a child with her. Boy or girl, it never mattered to him.

He just wanted to see his child being born. Wanting to hold her hand tightly as she pushed their blessing out. He wished to carry their new born baby as soon as the doctor pulls it out.

He wanted to kiss their boo boo's away whenever they got hurt. He could already imagine Y/n scolding them for being so reckless. He knew how worried she could get. He'd be there, reassuring her that their child is fine. And reassuring their child.

He wanted to send them off to preschool. He'd be so proud of them, tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

He wanted to scare off their significant others because they'll forever be his baby. No matter how old they get, their still his to protect and love.

And he wanted to see them on their wedding day, in love just like he is with their mother.

He wanted to grow old with her, die with her by his side. He'd give up everything for her.

The amount of happiness and joy she brought him was something he could only see in movies. But he was lucky enough to find the love of his life.

Just thinking about this possible future made him smile widely. His mood completely changing.

But there was only one problem.

She didn't want the same things.

Y/n has told Johnny countless of time how she is afraid of marriage. How she never believed in the concept of marriage. And how she wasn't the most patient person in the world to take care of a baby.

He understood this, although he was skeptical, confused as to why she was so afraid of marriage. But he let it be, not wanting to scare her off. They never even had sex, and he was totally fine with this. He didnt want her just because of sex. But it's been four years.

Four years..

And the idea still bothers her. His family started asking about a future family, about grandchildren, a wedding. And he was planning on finding out why she was so bothered by all of this, their future. And he was determined to find out.

"Hey, beautiful" Johnny whispered against Y/n’s temple. Slowly running his hands up and down her sides. Causing her to giggle and push herself away from his touch. Turning around, she wrapped her arms around his neck, softly caressing the hairs at the back of his neck.

It was their only day off, and they wanted to spend some quality time together. Though, Johnny's parents were in town and they wanted to have a small get together with the rest of the family. And of course, Johnny had to go.

"Are you okay?" Y/n asks softly, enjoying the closeness of his body against hers. They were currently in the kitchen alone. Most of the family members were in the living room, talking and just catching up with each other.

“Yeah, I'm fine" He says, kissing her forehead lightly while sneaking his hands around her waist. Bringing her body closer to his. He was defiantly in love with this girl.

"John- oh, I'm sorry I didnt know you were busy" His mom interrupts, laughing in embarrassment as both Johnny and Y/n move away from each other. Embarrassment clearly shown on both their faces.

"Sorry mom" Johnny laughs while leaning against the counter.

"Oh dont be sorry, I mean, you guys are a couple. I'll be expecting some grandkids soon, right?" She wiggles her eye brows while walking out of the kitchens, taking some paper towels with her.

Y/n immediately tenses up at the mention of kids, and Johnny quickly noticed this. Bitining the inside of his lip he strolls over to her.

"Why dont you want kids?" He asks bluntly, not wanting to sugarcoat the situation.

"We're not having this conversation right now" Y/n shakes her head as she grabs her cup filled with water.

"Then when will we? Cause no matter how many times I bring it, you always have a way of dodging it" Anger and confusion slowly filling him up.

"Johnny, we'll talk about this later" Y/n was already fed up with the conversation. She’s heard this one too many times. "Fine" He soon gave up, after looking at her for a few seconds. He slowly walked over to her, kissing her temple. She didnt once look up from the counter. He sighs in defeat and leaves the kitchen. She held her tears in, breathing in and out, holding onto the counter tightly. After a while, she walked out as well. Wanting to forget about the situation and integrate in the conversation the family was having.

Weeks after the incident was spent without physical contact, weeks without direct communication is what made him him snap so suddenly. The fact the she has been avoiding him just because of a question was outrageous and immature in his eyes.

“Can you please tell me what's wrong? You've been ignoring me for weeks now." He confronted her, expecting an explanation.

Your POV

“Its nothing" You whisper, eyes not leaving your phone. You knew what you were doing was incredibly childish, but you knew what he wanted, and you just weren't ready for this conversation.

"Y/n, I love you, God only knows how in love I am with you" He breathes out, letting a small chuckle out.

“But I just need to know if you feel the same. I get it if you dont want to have kids..or marriage.” His voice clearly laced with sadness as he said this, causing you took look at him for a split second.

“But i deserve an explanation on why you're shutting me out all of a sudden. Or at least tell me why you don’t want a family. That's what couples are supposed to do, talk." He finished his mini rant with hopeful eyes.

“I'm sorry, Johnny, I can't. I'm not ready for marriage and i dont want children. I dont have a reason and theres nothing to talk about" >Great way to make it worse,Y/n<. You thought. You knew he had every right to know. He only meant good, but you were so scared of his reaction. Afraid that he'd leave you. The man of your dreams. The man that never dared disrespect you in any way. The man who was there for you through thick and thin. There was no denying that you were in love with him, and he had every right to be mad, every right to know.

"I-" A million ways to tell him crosses your mind, yet you couldn’t say a thing. It was as if you lost your voice. A headache at the right side of your head. Indicating that a migraine was soon to appear, which will eventually consume your whole body into an unbearable pain.

“Are you seeing someone else?"

That one sentence felt like a dagger going through both your hearts. Your eyes winded at the sudden accusations, you couldn’t help but feel slightly offended that he’d think so low of you. But you knew exactly where he was coming from.

“I would never, Johnny” You say sternly, slowly getting up from your spot on the couch. Tears threatening to spill out of your eyes because of the terrible situation you were in.

“Well what is it then? Help me understand what you’re keeping from me. It’s been four years, Y/n. I want to start a family with you and only you. Understand this, but hey, I understand if you don’t want the same. But at least give me a reason why, because I know there is a bigger reason than not being ready” He sighs in defeat, throwing his hands to his sides.

At this point, you were just looking for excuses to end the conversation. This was probably the first time he ever confronted you like this, and you were at loss for words. Afraid of the consequences that the truth would bring.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Johnnys chuckle. Your head shot up, looking at him directly in his eyes. Sadness was all you could see in his beautiful brown eyes. And you wanted nothing more than to hold him. But you couldn’t.

“Well, until you’re ready, I’ll be staying at the dorms” He said with a light crack in his voice. Causing you to break down in tears. As if reflex, you quickly wiped them away, careful not wipe to hard and hurt yourself.

“Johnny, please” you managed to spit out, but he just gave you a side glance before opening the door.

“I still love you, Y/n, but I feel like I’m the only one committed in this relationship” he coughs out, walking out the door with a sad sigh.

You felt like running after him, but you couldn’t move really. You just sat there, silent tears streaming down your face.

As if on cue, your phone started ringing, causing you to jump in surprise. Quickly disconnecting the charging cable from your phone, you looked at the unsaved number and smiled to yourself. You wiped your moist fingers on your jeans and answer the call.

“Hey, baby” You voice came out in a raspy tone. Taking a deep breath as the sweet voice came through the phone. Immediately relaxing at his soothing voice.

“Hi, mommy!”

#nct #nct 127 #nct 2018 #nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct u #kpop #nct reactions #kpop scenarios #writing #nct johnny #johnny seo scenarios #johnny seo imagines #johnny seo #johnny angst #nct angst

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cocojosse · 5 years ago

Text

A short story

The end sucks, but it’s something.

It’s 7076 words, English is not my first language.

As silly as it might sound, I honestly thought that what I heard when speaking to people was them speaking to me, even if they half of the time they didn't move their lips. I thought it was normal and didn't question it when I heard people say the answers to their own questions, or when I saw people on the street holding hands and laughing but said out in the open that they would rather be anywhere else. I often asked what people meant with what they said and for the most part only got weird looks in response. Instead of understanding that what I could hear wasn't normal and stopped talking about it, I instead spoke my mind and questioned almost everything I heard.

When receiving gifts, when I was younger, I used to always guess what I believed to exist in the package. Of course, I was always correct no matter how much they tried to hide the content. I would also always win in rock, paper, scissors when playing it in kindergarten. In the end everyone started to just give me money on Christmas or as birthday present. Everyone in kindergarten also stopped trying to be my friend as I always speaked my mind and unknowingly spred others secrets around. I realized quickly that something was wrong with me but was too busy self-pitying myself to figure out what.

My father worked a lot and would often not be home until late at night after leaving early in the morning. My mother on the other hand started staying at home as soon as I was born, you would think that a mother should have noticed its own child's strange behavior, but I learned quickly that she was blinded by the thought of having a perfect child and brushed every weird act away. I could hear what people really thought about me and would, without explanation, distain myself when knowing I wasn't wanted. I grew self-conscious of how I acted, dressed and spoke. Even though I grew weary of my speech I still asked about the things I heard. My dad noticed my strange behavior and distanced himself from the family even more and either worked harsher hours or passed free time at bars. Whenever I was lucky enough to see my father, he was in an argument with mom. Mostly about how stressed he was from work and often whined about the smallest things, like how the food he warms up after coming home always was either too bland or too salty. The biggest reason to why they argued though was because of my weird actions, he understood what it was I could do and didn't feel safe in his own home and therefore tried to explain this to mom.

Just a week or so before my seventh birthday he left for another woman, stated how mom has grown to dense for comfort and that I was a monster he never wanted, at the same time exclaiming the impossibility of me being his daughter. When leaving, mom broke down by the doorstep and closed herself in her room, for weeks living as a ball of depression in her room with meals being delivered to her door, she finally stepped out of her cave. And for the first time in a long time saw my face. It was like a string in mom snapped and she quickly started blaming me for dad's disappearance. She no longer wanted to see me as the perfect daughter and instead searched for flaws around me that she could comment on. While searching she found my strange ability, she grew outraged finding the one thing that father always tried to explain was there and the biggest reason for his departure.

She started giving me rules to follow to be allowed in her home. I was no longer considered family. For me to not be able to spread her secrets I was not allowed to talk, to be allowed to eat I had to make the food, I had to do everything in my power to make myself the house ghost. Every time she saw me, she sneered, gave me a row of dirty looks and thought the worst things she could think of about me, knowing that I would hear and take it to heart, I wasn't worth her words. I spend most of my time in our library, mother didn't bother putting me in a school so until I could attend one, I took care of my education on my own. When mother was home, I obeyed every big or small rule she had for me, didn't speak, never looked her in the eye and cooked the best food I could because of the many cook books I studied. I did after all still love her and wanted her to be happy even if the thought wasn't mutual. Mother quickly started working again and worked just as long hours as father did, I barely saw her. She must have started to enjoy her work more or just wanted to be even further away from me, either way she started going on business trips for weeks at a time. After all the reason behind mother's fortune and big house wasn't because of her and fathers divorce but because of her own efforts as a business woman.

On my ninth birthday mother contacted me while being on a vacation in Dubai and asked me rather harshly if I have been studying, and even if originally not told to I told her that I have been spending most of my free time in the house library and should be on the same level as others my age in most subjects. Mother told me with a lack of interest that she had enrolled me in the school closest to her home. She gave me strict instructions on what kind of equipment I was supposed to buy and told me that I was supposed to start in about two weeks when summer break was over. Even if she forgot about it, I like to think that was my birthday present and had hope of her maybe still having gentle and loving feelings towards me.

Everything went on as usual except that the ghost of the house danced around laughing and singing to express her joy. I had always wanted to meet new people and liked to think that I had learned my lesson from kindergarten. I had under two weeks straight daydreamed about countless scenery's, different conversations and the kind of people I would meet. I set up a countless set of rules for how I should act and speak. I picked out the perfect outfit and studied extra hard for a couple of days just so mother wouldn't think of me as a disappointment.

The high hopes I had for my new beginning quickly crumbled when what first greeted me was scared and angry looks, I didn't understand that those who went to the town's kindergarten could have gone to the same school as me. So, I didn't have time to make a name out of myself with the new me, because others already had. I was supposed to go there from third grade to sixth, I knew mother wouldn't care about my situation, so my only option was to suffer through three years of hair pulling, name calling, pushing, things being thrown at me as well as my things being destroyed and, in some cases, punching and kicking. I hadn't even once out loud said a thing I heard someone think, most of them had no proof of what a few others were saying, even teachers just believed what children said about me being able to read other minds.

When I went through the last day of sixth grade, I was welcomed home to mothers' servants and maids packing the hole house away and when looking out the window I saw three moving trucks. One of the maids came to me and explained that my room was already packed and that I could wait out in the one of the cars. She must have seen my questioning expression because she then quickly explained that me and mother were moving to Scottsdale, Arizona and explained that mother was already there. While in the car on my way to the airport I remember doing some research on the town we were moving to and started getting a little worried when I saw six cases of kidnaping in the area but quickly pushed the thought away. I thought that this time, in a new state, new city, miles from my first ever home, I could maybe have a new start where no one knew who I was.

I ended up spending all my free time for summer brake looking around town, getting to know my surroundings. I found the town library and passed a lot of my time studying the towns history, I have for a long time been interested in geographic history but once again grew worried when looked at one of the TVs in the library that showed another case of a missing child. Because mother usually isn't home, I have and is still being raised by our house maids and was delighted when knowing that our staff moved with us.

And here I am in Scottsdale, Arizona's very own Mountainside Middle School, in one of thier classrooms for seven graders. They started school a week ago and because there were so many knew students except me, I wasn't as big of a mystery and I have been able to stay out of everyone's way. This school is already a lot better compered to my first one, everyone is a lot nicer and of what I can tell, bullying is extremely rare here. I met almost all the teachers except my math teacher who apparently have been sick for most of summer break and still felt a little sick a week after and stayed home. I have made one friend though; her name is Emma and she is currently sleeping in her seat next to me using her arms as a pillow. I kind of understand her reason for falling asleep, our history teacher Mrs. Owen is trying to teach us about the golden age while most of the students are either talking with their seat mate, in hushed tones, or are almost sleeping. Lucky for all the student as well as the well ignored teacher this school has a bell to alert us of when class has ended and that bell just rang.

Everyone starts standing up making the chairs scrape against the floor as well as the volume quickly started to raise, this didn't wake Emma though. I poked her cheek a couple of times with her just turning her face from me while grumbling. I sigh, "Emma, wake up", she doesn't move. "Please Emma, wake up", I try once again while poking her cheek. No, go away. "Emma, I won't go away. Just please get up, people are starting to stare." She knows how I don't like attention and kindly enough turns her head gives me a small glare but, in the end, rises and takes her history book, note book and pen from the end of the table. Fine, she thinks while starting to turn to face me. She can be incredibly stubborn and hard headed, but she was the first and only one who talked to me on our first day just four days ago and our friendship just kind of bloomed from there. She's loud, I'm quiet, she hates school, I appreciate it. But she is kind, she usually doesn't show it, but she cares and doesn't judge easily. I don't know her that well, of course I want to get to know her, but I don't feel an extreme need to, she is my first friend in years and I just want to live in that dream for a while before I maybe open my mouth and destroy it all.

While walking out of the classroom we are met with a wall of students quickly walking to get to their locker to get home. While being in this big crowds I'm happy that I learned how to close out most thoughts, before it all crashed on to me and I couldn't help to hear everything on a 15 meter radius around me or anyone I made eye contact with, now I here just a few and of course also anyone I wish to hear the thought of. I use the ability now more mostly to get to know the real character of someone I never met before.

Finally finding an opening in the moving wall of students me and Emma quickly starts walking in the same direction as most others. "You busy this weekend?", she asked while walking. "No, I was just planning on studying for the most part, why". She made a funny face as soon as I mentioned studying. "Well, if you want to do something that's actually fun, I thought that we maybe could have a sleep over." She stops by her locker while I continues walking to mine which is just 7 lockers down. Thank god. Mr. Wilson is finally starting on Monday; this substitute is killing me. Who is Mr. Wilson? It's going to be so much easier when Mr. Wilson comes back. These are just random thoughts from random students but who is that? I don't think we have a teacher named Wilson.

I start putting everything in my bag with Emma looking over my shoulder. Hurry up. Hurry up. Hurry up. Hurry up. I can feel a headache coming along, I wonder why. She is still doing her little chant while having the decency to look completely unbothered by how slow I am while leaning on the locker next to mine. The halls are emptier now with only a few still by their locker while some are walking towards the exit. "No, I'm sorry but I can't this weekend, mother is holding a gathering slash party for the company she works for." I say while closing my locker and putting my bag on my shoulder. It's a black Armani shoulder bag, sure mother doesn't like me, but I'm still related by blood and can't, in her words, run around bringing shame to her name because of cheap clothes and products. "We could maybe be at my home; my family shouldn't be bothered by it." I would honestly really like to, I mean she is my first friend in a long time but one of mother's rules is for me to stay at home at all time when she is home. Not for my company but to keep an eye on me while at she is able to. "I'm sorry but mother doesn't like me being out of the house when she is home, I'm sure she will be away again next weekend and would love to have a sleep over then if that's alright?" She looks a little sad, her shoulders slumping and eyes darting to the floor but quickly goes back to being normal with a small smile tugging at her lips when hearing that I maybe could next weekend.

We started walking towards the exit, in a calmer fashion now when we aren't being pushed forward by a wall of bodies. I can't keep my smile from blooming on my face while looking towards the door but at the same time hearing her thoughts. She seems to be delighted thinking of how she wishes for Monday to come quicker. That reminds me. "Emma." She looks towards me. "You have been at this school since fifth grade, right." She turns her head more towards me and nods slowly. "Yeah, why?" I keep walking with my face facing forward while looking to and from her face moving only my eyes. "It's nothing really. I just heard some people talking about somebody called Mr. Wilson. I haven't heard the name here before so I'm just wondering if you know who it is." My eyes stay on her face when she turns her head towards the exit with a sour expression on her face. Ugh, I forgot that guy existed. Okay, someone has a grudge. "You know how we have had a substitute for a week in math? Mr. Wilson, full name: Oliver Wilson, is the actual math teacher." She answers quickly and snappily, seeming not wanting to talk about him. It's okay, I got the hint Ill drop it. Awkward silence quickly fallows. And I regret dropping it.

We continue through the school exit down the small stairs to the place where we are supposed to part ways, me going right towards the school bus stop that's just barely seven meters from where I am standing, and Emma going left towards her apartment that's just 10 minutes from here. I start turning my back towards her and begins to walk away. I make it about three steps before a hand takes my left arm turning me ninety degrease left. She sighs running her left hand through her hair with her right one still holding my arm. "I'm sorry. It's not that I'm mad at you or anything I just really don't like the guy. "He is extremely annoying with a way to care free attitude. And his smile is super creepy." As she thinks the last thing, she shudders with an expression making her look partially scared, partially disgusted. "Hey. It's okay, you don't need to apologies." I quickly say back while putting a comforting hand on her left shoulder. I noticed this a while ago, Emma gets emotional very easily so it's easy to accidently hurt her feelings if you don't know her well. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She raises her head and gives me a grateful smile. Thank you.

When looking around I see my bus about 15 seconds from the bus stop and quickly turn my head toward Emma. "I'm sorry but I really need to go, my bus is coming." I turn around and for the second time today I start walking with the bus stop as my goal only to stop half way and turn around to face Emma to see her already walking in the towards her home. "Emma!" I scream and see her turning around. "I'll see you on Monday, we can start planning our weekend sleep over then." She lights up as a big smile glues to her face and at the same time she nods her head franticly. Okay! A voice happily screams in my head. I hear the bus stopping behind and I turn around quickly and run to the entrance, blip my card and take a seat I the middle of the bus on the right side. Not many people take the bus on Fridays: the reason for all the empty seats.

I don't have to wait to long for the bus to stop right outside mothers' home. I see her black Lamborghini in the spacious drive way while hopping out of the bus. While walking on the stone path leading towards the door, I make sure to be looking down to not accidentally looking her in the eyes for when I see her and check my posture to make sure I'm walking with a straight back, she hates when I don't. I open the door and as usual, its open. The maids know my schedule and unlock the door when my last class ends so it's open when I get home. I walk in, closing the door behind me, locking it as well. I see a couple of boxes on the right side of me, stocked neatly by the wall part of the TV room's wall with the rest being glass so you can look out to the garden. The boxes are all closed using a tape where it said Arizona Nights, I guess its stuff for mothers gathering/party tomorrow. I found out about it under summer break. One of the maids told me that as soon as mother comes home, she was going to hold something party-ish to celebrate the move and that when she was on her business trip, she landed an important deal with a company from Sydney, Australia. I know from the way she said it that I was, as usual, to stay in my room. So, I'm doing exactly that. After all I didn't lie to Emma when I said that I was going to study.

My room was on the second floor that you reached by going up the stairs that were on the far-left side of the house, in the living room. Before going there though I took of my shoes and put them on the floor to the right of me by the hallway wall. Mother and everyone who works here doesn't usually take of their shoes, but I like walking in just my socks. I think its cozy. I turn my body to the stairs and swiftly made my way over there then quietly made my way up and turned right and went in to the first door on the left. When I was younger, like very young, I made a name sign to hang on my door. At the time mother still acted like a mom should so we made it together in our former kitchen. You can really see how its homemade, with a cotton candy blue background and messily written Molly with baby pink glitter. I quietly close the door while facing my room and walked to my desk that's positioned forward in the right corner of my square room. While sitting on my chair in front for my desk I put my shoulder bag in my lap and took out my math homework for next week, as well as all the necessities to finish it.

That's how I used my weekend, finishing the math, science as well as the English homework, the biggest problem probably being keeping my concentration on just that, mothers party started on Saturday afternoon and kept on going with countless different attractions on the schedule, so it ended very early morning on Sunday. Waking up Monday morning wasn't that fun either, I slept only three hours the night before, the smell of alcohol still slightly lingering in the air making it only worse. School starts at eight AM every day so, just as today, I always put a timer to wake up twenty minutes over seven. I get out of bed slowly making my way to my closet, putting on a pair of black high-waisted skinny jeans and a baby blue off-shoulder blouse, keeping my hair straight after brushing it. Taking my school bag with me, I walk out my room and down the stairs quickly noticing my especially quiet surroundings, it being explained to me when I can't see my mother's car through the living room windows. I put on the TV listening to Arizona's NEWS as background noise while making breakfast in the kitchen on opposite side of the house but with no walls closing of the connecting area. "Another child kidnapping took place somewhere between six PM and nine PM yesterday evening in the middle of Scottsdale saying to have connections with the other 7 kidnappings in the area. The thirteen-year-old Emma Rodrigues had a goal of going to the closest food store to her home and then quickly coming home again. The trip should only have taken 20 minutes, but she never got home and have been informally declared missing." The news anchor continued with talking about other events while I stood in front of the TV with a half-eaten sandwich in my right hand staring wide eyed at the screen, processing the former information. Emma, is gone? I mean, I have read about kidnappings accruing in the area all through the year but didn't believe it would be this close.

In my daze I see the bus stop by my house, I will have to think about this when I'm not in shock, I can't think like this. I quickly run to our hallway to put on my shoes, hang my school bag over my shoulder and take my jacket with me just in case. Opening the door, I just run seeing the line of kids shrinking, not thinking of locking the door hoping the maids notice and lock it in my stead. Luckily the bus driver sees me and waits for my arrival, I get on, bleep my card and find an empty seat in the back-right corner. If I would have just had that stupid sleep over with her at her house, then she wouldn't have gone there alone and might have had a better chance fighting back whoever that kidnaping freak is. I feel my hands clenching in my lap and my teeth roughly rub against each other. How could her parents let her out that late on her own? Haven't they heard about the kidnappings in the area? My first friend in years gone after just one week of knowing her. No, I will find her, and we are having that dumb sleep over this weekend.

Should I tell her, or just poke her? I mean the bus have stopped, haven't she noticed? Huh? I look up to see a guy from my class sitting in a chair tree places from me looking nervously in my direction but quickly looks down when seeing that I cough him. No one else is in the bus except some walking out of it, the boy from before now also trying to accomplish the same thing. I stand up and walk to the bus exit my body now on auto pilot while putting my full attention on planning. If she disappeared while going to, or from, the shop then that is the most obvious place to start searching: I don't have any other leads. The police still haven't caught the kidnapper after so long so I can't count on them that much. I have been getting an allowance for some years and have barely used any of it so I should have more than enough for a private detective if its needed. I notice my body stopping in front of my locker and decide to leave the subject occupying my mind to after school pulling out my math book as well as my note book with some pens. That's right. The actual math teacher is supposed to start today. Until proven different my opinion of him will remain the same as Emma's.

When walking in to the classroom I see most of the students sitting like normal but seem way to happy about having math first thing in the morning on a Monday, I guess Mr. Wilson is more popular with the students than I thought. I take the seat furthest in the back on the right side, by the windows. A man, maybe twenty-five years old, walk in six minutes later, a big smile on his face. "Hello kids!" he greets us while putting down the papers he had with him. "Goodmorning!" Some of the kid's greet back while some of the new ones in the class look as confused as I would have been if I didn't know who it was. He does a quick look through on the sitting students, his left eye twitches slightly but I don't think anyone else noticed it. "I see a lot of new students. And I guess by the looks some are given me; an introduction is in order." He pauses, turning to the board with a chalk, writing as he speaks. "My name is Oliver Wilson, you can call me Oliver or Mr. Wilson, it's up to you. I'm 27 years old," eh I was close enough, "and have been teaching math in this school for almost seven months now. I hope I can meet your expectations." For the last part he does a little bow. He raises and then asks if there were any questions for him. One in the middle of the class raises their hand, Oliver quickly points at her as a sign to speak. "I heard you have been sick for a while, are you feeling better?" He chuckles looking down at his shoes but looks up again grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Yes, thank you Melisa. I'm feeling much better." Yet again no one seems to notice the scary glint in his eye or how he is smiling like a psychopath. Another girl raises her hand, takes it down again and without permission asks her question. "Well, what did you do while sick. It was like, hole summer break, right?" Okay, already hate her. What's worse, she was blowing bubble gum while speaking, could she be any more cliché? Ugh no, girl I don't know the name of, I sorry mentally, you know how it is, stress isn't fun so sorry for being mean to you mentally. "Yes, you are right, I was sick for almost two months. And for what I did, I just took care of some bugs." 13-year-old bugs with a pair of arms and legs that is. He chuckles a little for himself. Paus, what did you just say, I mean think? You are officially number one on my list of subjects, containing just you. It seems that I might not need to search the area from ger apartment to the food-store. This ability of mine is making it a lot easier than it would have been originally. "Okay, enough questions, let's start shall we." He picks up the stack of papers that he had with him. "I hope you have been listening to the substitute last week because we are having a pop quiz on the content, she was instructed to teach you." Even if this is a misunderstanding, I would rather follow him after school and be wrong than letting it go and later finding out to be right. Everyone in the classroom is showing their displeasure by loudly groaning, some throwing their heads back with a sigh and some roughly putting their head on their table side looking like they are giving up on life. Now he's standing in front of the class looking at all of us like we are his cherished friends. Emma was right, he is creepy.

Under the school day I planned how I would follow him, how far behind him I would be and what I would do if he drove home. I'm extremely happy right now that I took my jacket with me, its black which means I can wear it over my blue shirt so that I can bland it better. I did some research on him as well, he's not famous but there is always at least a little of information on everyone. He is quite normal except for the thing that he moves every year. Not just cities but states, he moves miles every year, but I can't find a non-written or a written explanation. That's about how weird it gets with him, I might be completely wrong about him but for the moment he is my only lead on Emma's disappearance. I know that the teachers' shifts on Monday's end at five PM so after my last class, I wait in one of the school's bathrooms. While waiting I just read on my phone, I don't want anyone hearing I'm here so the quietest form of entertainment for me was reading, changing every so often to looking through Instagram. When I see the clock on my phone turning 5.15 PM I slowly and quietly walk out the girl's bathroom and make my way to the teachers' lounge. The hallways are deafeningly silent, a feeling of an empty airhorn going of next to my ears is as clear as day. Their door has a window I can look through, into the big room with chairs and messy tables and one very prominent desk light outlining the back of one Oliver Wilson. Now, why haven't you left yet? Finally, I think everyone is gone now. He sighs. This was easier under summer break when it was empty all the time. He turns his desk light of fixing his papers putting it on the corner of his table together with other papers. He stands up and I swiftly turn around hiding in the boy's bathroom hallway peeking from the corner. He walks out the door, closing it behind him and locking it. But instead of going to the exit he goes in opposite direction. Okay, maybe there is a backward exit only teachers use. Not before he gets to the end of the corridor and turn right, I get out of my hiding spot and follow his footsteps hearing them echoing in the dark empty space. It feels like I'm in a horror movie and have taken the character of that one dumb kid that follow the scary sounds. I shake my head disappointed in myself.

I stop by the corner where he turned right and look towards his direction hearing and seeing him slowly without a care in the world walking down the hall while fiddling with a key in his left hand. In that pathway there is no exits, none that I know of anyway. This is just getting creepier and creepier, if he isn't the kidnapper after this, I will honestly be surprised. But then again how would no one know where the kids were if he hid them in a school. He stops in front of a room labelled girls bathroom. Now when I think about, that one has been out of use since a year back, Emma told me. Maybe today she will finally brake tell me what I want to know. While thinking this he unlocks the door and steps inside, fortunately I can't hear him locking it after closing. I run to the bathroom door and put my ear to it, his footsteps are growing quieter every second. Just how big is this bathroom? When I can't hear him anymore, I slowly open the door seeing something not so bathroom like. The actual tiles used in most bathrooms on the floor cover only about half of the ground with the rest being a stair case down and then a path continuing to the right. This is getting ridicules, when was this build and who in their right minds go to these lengths for, well, anything. Should I maybe just call the police and then leave? But what if she really is down there, and I heard what he thought before, I can't just leave her with something like that. I pick up my phone from my right jacket pocket and call 911, I will need backup to help if I go down there and it doesn't work out in my favor. "Nine one one, what's your emergency?" A manly voice asks. "Hello, my name is Molly Anderson. I'm right now in Mountainside Middle school and I think I have found the kidnapped children as well as the kidnapper." I answer quickly and in a hushed tone, even though I closed the door I don't want to risk it. "How old are you?" The man asks in an angry tone. "13, but I can't see how this has anything to do with the task at hand!" I answer back in the same tone, what the hell is he doing. "Mis I have had enough of you and your friends prank calling over this matter, it's incredibly insensitive. "I clench my teeth together. Right now, my patience isn't that high, and he is making me use all of it. "I know its insensitive since one of the kidnapped kids is my friend," I spit out, "and I understand if there have been people prank calling about this subject. But right now, I don't have time for your nagging and/or complaining, I just thought that the police would like to know that if you go straight ahead, left and then open the broken girl's bathroom there is a Goddam basement that's not on the maps and I just saw a very suspicious teacher called Oliver Wilson walk down there opening the door with his own key talking to himself how he hopes a "she" will finally brake and tell him what he wants to know. I'm about to go down that basement because obviously you aren't going to help. So have a good day knowing my, maybe, future blood is on your hands." I growl out before hanging up putting my phone in my jacket pocket after turning it on silent. I take a deep breath calming myself down, I can't make any small mistakes just because I'm angry. I open the door again, complete silence greeting me. With a shaky breath I start going down the stairs looking to the pathway on my right to be met with a faint light at the end of the long tunnel.

I heard soft murmurs coming from the other end that grew louder with each passing step. Softly placing my right hand on the right wall while walking forward, its pitch black so I can barely see what's in front of me. The only sorce of light coming from behind me in the bathroom, and far ahead of me. Coming closer to the end of the tunnel but still out of sight if anyone were to look in, I see a white sterile room shaped like a rectangle with one of the shorter ends being towards me. My eyes quickly catch three sitting forms in a small cage furthest away from me, at the end of the room. They all are sitting with their knees to their chins and their arms around themselves, seeming to shiver, two more so than the other. Something is dropped on the floor creating an echo in the room traveling in the tunnel. I try making myself even smaller while my gaze quickly falls on Oliver who is now crutching down to pick up the needle that fell. Behind him I see a metallic table with papers, more needles and small bottles with liquid in them. He takes three needles from his collection and fill all of them with the liquid from one of the smaller bottles that seems to have been used a lot. I have to say, Boomslang venom really is effective. It's good that I learned how much to give. He chuckles lowly. In the beginning I kept trying with the wrong amount, so they grew crazy a lot quicker than intended. It was fun to watch though. He smiles like in school again, like a psychopath.

When he turns his back to me, walking towards the cage with the three bodies, I quickly look around to find a big bookshelf to the left off me. Its barely thirty centimeters place inbetweener the bookshelf and the wall, I try my luck while his back is facing me and run to quietly hide in said space. "Let's see if-

"Order 37! One medium vanilla latte with a slice of carrot cake!" Amelia looks up from the book hearing the barista yell out her order. She quickly puts the bookmark in the book while putting it on the table, stands up and swiftly walks to the place you order/take your order. Amelia got a little frustrated now when the barista interrupted her reading, she knew it would happen eventually since she ordered but it was still frustrating. Amelia took her order from the barista that she now could see was named "Julia" from her name tag. Julia smiles at Amelia while wishing her a good evening. "Thank you, you to", Amelia response. She, more calmly now, walks to her seat seeing her jacket hanging from the chair she sat on, her school bag sitting on the table in front of her chair while leaning to the right on the window to the right of her tablet. The whole right side of the cafés wall being one big window. The seat Amelia's stuff is on has been her favorite seat for a year and a half now since she started coming here. If you look at it from entering door, it's the seat in the furthest left corner with the place you order just five meters to the right of it. Amelia softly puts the plate with the carrot cake as well as the cup of steaming coffee down on the table next to hers, since they are connected, and she needs to rearrange stuff on her table to be able and fit it all. Since her bag is taking up the most space, Amelia takes it and puts it on the chair next to hers. She sits down and puts the plate and cup in front of her, next to her book.

Amelia started reading this book just ten minutes or so ago, right after she ordered and sat down. It got recommended to her by one of the librarians who told her a summary of it. This girl Molly goes through this experience with her kidnapped friend and in the end managed to save just the two other kids, but not Emma. The police show up in the end and helps her, after all that she gets a new view of the police. She believes them to not being good enough for their jobs. Through the book then, the librarian explained, you follow Molly growing up and becoming a detective, and since she can read minds, she becomes one of the best. She moves state to state to different police headquarters who asks for her help, specializing in kidnappings. Amelia likes pretty much any genre when it comes to books but absolutely fell in love with the summery the librarian told her and just had to borrow it. She can't wait to read about Molly when she is grown up. Amelia picks up the book and opens it where she put the book mark, taking it out and putting it on the last page in the book. Finding the sentence where she had to stop, Amelia continues reading "The Clairvoyant".

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