#shame it came out so long ago that the only discussion I can find about the chapter is an 8yo reddit thread (which is the 'still in denial

[muninnhuginn]

oh they're in yuri fr??? - person who just read chapter 17 of dungeon meshi

[palmtreesx3]

Act 4 - Going All the Way

Queening (Steve's Chapter)

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Summary: (10.6k)  Steve’s phone call with his dad does not go well, and the aftermath of that call impacts way more than Steve himself. Steve has to realize a few things, only one of which is that he’s got people there to pick him up when he’s down, but the most important is that relationships don’t have to be conditional. As everyone rallies behind Steve, a revelation comes in the form of a stranger on a bench, and that chance meeting starts a few wheels in motion behind Steve’s pretty head. Can he fix what he’s done when he was down and out? Can he patch things up? Is this the end of the road, or can he go all the way? Buckle up, and enjoy this angsty chapter of Get Off. 

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Heavier topics are explored, depicted or mentioned including prejudice and anti-gay bias, heavy binge drinking as escapism, depression and a blink of thinking better off dead, controlling parents, overstimulation and some dashes of neurotypical behavior you can catch if you blink slowly enough. There’s also the ongoing sexual innuendos and explicit discussion of body parts, as well as implied p+v intercourse, and the holy grail of pussyeating. 

"What the hell is going on, son?" his father's voice bellowed through the phone. "I just heard from a colleague that you're working in some... some pornographic store downtown! In town for business and he could have sworn he saw your lookalike walking into the place, but then you turned around and he knew it was my own flesh and blood. How goddamned embarrassing, Stephen. Do you know how embarrassing that conversation is to have over a business dinner?"

Steve winced at the tone his father took, a visceral response he’s had since childhood. A tone he knows well and somehow still cuts just as deep as it did when he was thirteen. "Dad, it's not like that. It's just a job. It’s…it’s retail, s’all it is" he stammered, attempting to diffuse the tension. To deflect. To play ball. 

His father scoffed, "Retail job? Don't play games with me. I've spent years paying for whatever you need, trying to get you scholarships for sports which you squander away with your shitty grades, and this is what you end up doing? Sitting on your ass for a few years and working in some seedy place, peddling who knows what!"

"It's not like that at all. It's just a store, and we sell lots of things, not…not just that stuff, Dad." Steve tries desperately to explain, slipping right back into it - the role of a boy trying to find any excuse to satiate a father that could never be pleased. Like the time he was a shameful teenage boy being told he’s worthless as he stood in the entryway of the house, barely over the threshold, all because he passed the ball and let Sammy Curtis sink the game winning shot instead of taking it himself.

"That stuff” he interrupts with a scoff. “Is this what I raised you for? I expected you to have a respectable career by now. Thought this move to the city was going to give you some fresh choices, not this... this filth!"

Steve was not ready for this. Half his hangover was still hanging on for dear life. Just a moment ago things were…not this complicated. He was eating a raw bagel talking about…you…with his friend. Even when that was the thing that felt complicated it wasn't really, was it? It was simple, and easy and… Now he’s struggling to find the words to defend himself, especially hard long-distance, though he also guesses he should be grateful it was - he wasn’t forced to see the rage and disappointment behind his father’s eyes this particular time."Dad, it's just a job. We needed work, and this opportunity came up. It doesn't define who I am. I just…it shouldn’t matter that much." 

“Just a job? Stephen? What do you mean just a job?” At that, Steve can hear his voice slip into a deeper register. He knows the face that goes along with this. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his father is going to try and ruin his life. It’s not much of one, but it’s his, and he can just tell that he’s about ready to pull the rug out from under him. 

“You're 25, for God's sake! When are you going to get a real job, a job that befits the family name? Do you think your mother and I worked so hard for you to end up in some disgraceful position like this? Galavanting around a city and being a part in all this promiscuity. Goddamnit, at this rateI bet you even associate with the gays. Don’t you?"

He feels his body tense and wince as those words spill out of his fathers mouth. His eyes flit to his friend, sitting on the couch, legs tucked up under her and perched there watching one side of this debacle unfold like a deer in headlights. Forcing a smile at him, an awkward smile of encouragement, none the wiser about the hate his father is spewing about people like… about her. Tears welled up in Steve’s eyes thinking about it and Robin sees them - or at least she thinks she does - and her eyebrows furrow in concern. But before she can be sure, he turns around refusing to show his vulnerability right now even to her. He bites his lip to stifle the visceral response he had to his dad’s prejudices about his friend. "Dad, I'm doing my best. I'm trying to make a living and figure things out. It's not as easy as you think."

His father's tone softened with a hint of disappointment unlike the frustration and anger that has been flowing out of him since the minute Steve picked up the phone. In almost a plea, he says "You're embarrassing us, son. This is not the life I envisioned for you. You need to reconsider your choices and start acting like an adult."

After a brief silence, his father's voice returned, this time laced again with frustration - the softness that just fell was all an act. This is the hammer Steve was expecting, and it’s falling. Right now. "Enough of this nonsense. You're coming back home. I've arranged for a position for you in the firm. You'll start immediately. Stability, respect – those are the things you need. Not whatever you're doing in that disgraceful place."

Steve ran his free hand through his hair, shaking his head but not really knowing what to say. Dragging his hand back down his face, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The pressure to conform to his father's expectations had been a constant weight on his shoulders for his entire life and this is not the first time this conversation has been had. This time feels different though. Before he hadn’t had anything to call his own - not as much to lose. This stupid apartment and the life that they’re living, it’s been good. Maybe the best thing that he’s ever had. And it’s been his. Before, his dad just wanted control. This time, he wants to control him and strip him of the actual identity he’s been working so hard to understand and build. "Dad, I... I need some time to figure things out here. I can't just drop everything and come back."

His father's tone grew more insistent. "Time? You've had enough time, and look where it's gotten you – working in a place like that! It's time to put an end to this foolishness. You're coming back, and that's final."

Steve hesitated, torn between his desire for independence and the fear of his dad. He takes a deep breath and finally responds "I appreciate your concern, but I need to make my own choices. I can't just give up on everything I've built here."

"Built? You call this building a life? What have you accomplished, working in that... that den of immorality? Come home, and I'll set you on the right path. It's time you take responsibility for your future." 

As his father continued to insist, Steve’s yearning to forge his own path and avoid any that looks remotely like his fathers continues to intensify. He’s tuning out the insults at this point, desperate to find some sort of life raft to hold on to as he drowns in his fathers disappointments. It’s only then, that he finds it. The lifeline. The realization that he's got miles between him and his father now. He’s not coming home later to ground him or impose punishments on him. He isn’t relying on their money to pay bills. His mind is racing a mile a minute, and nothing…not one fucking thing he can land on points to any reason that he has to comply with his father. He isn’t depending on him for anything anymore, so why does he owe his dad anything at all?

"I'll think about it, Dad," And with that, he hangs up, knowing full well that he won’t think about it for another goddamn second. 

And that day, Steve called out of work. 

Robin couldn’t even argue with him. After the receiver hit the wall, she could tell that it was worse than she expected the minute he turned around and she could see his eyes glistening. She also was confused as fuck, because she swore she also saw him smirking just a little bit, but she was not going to poke the bear. She let him storm off and slam the door to his room. She didn’t bother him even though everything inside of her was screaming to go knock on the door and make him talk about it. Make him listen to her. She wanted to tell him he wasn’t anything that his father probably just said he was, but they’ve had this conversation before and…damnit she was working really hard at knowing boundaries - trying to read the room and figure out when she needs to shut up instead of rambling incessantly at all the wrong times. She thinks that this is one of those times that people need space, so she acquiesced. 

She makes a full pot of coffee, sets out some more food and the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and leaves it all out on the kitchen counter for Steve for whenever he emerges once she’s gone. Subtle. Not every way to help has to be in your face, she tells herself. I don’t need to meddle. He’ll let me know if he needs anything. Right?

Robin’s walk to work that day was quiet and dreary. The weather outside, overcast and air thick with that feeling that comes before the clouds break open and pour down on you. Seemed fitting. 

It took Robin five whole minutes after she got to work and put her stuff away before she meddled anyway. She picked up the phone once, and quickly set it down - thinking better of it. But immediately picked it back up against her better judgment and called you. As your answering machine picks up and your message plays, dripping with sarcasm and coyness asking your caller to leave a message after the beep, the realization hits then that she has no idea what your schedule is and it was a dumb idea to call you. Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway. 

As the silence settles on the other end of the line Robin’s eyes widen in panic. She meant to hang up, call back later, pretend this didn’t happen at all and play it off as a wrong number. But she’s pretty fucking sure she just said that out loud instead of in her head. “Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway.”

She hung up faster than the devil can fly, slamming down the phone and rattling the display case. The commotion drew Murry out from the back office, shirt pulled up and scratching at his stomach. “What’s got you all worked up Red? Little lost without your other half? Where is he anyway? Finally ruined his perfect attendance because of a wicked hangover, didn’t he? Make sure you tell ‘em he’s not eligible for the Perfect Attendance award this year, nowwww–ohhh something is off about this... What is it Red?.”

So for the next hour, Robin tries her best to summarize what it’s like to have the Harrington’s as parents and what just happened this morning. At least what she knew, because Steve hadn’t shared anything that his dad had said on the other end of that line. “Red, thank God you talk so fast, otherwise that story would have taken up your whole shift. Shit.”

That coaxes a chuckle out of Robin, which makes Murray smile. “Listen, that guy sounds like a Grade-A Asshole. No wonder Steve’s wound so tight…Makes so much sense actually. But this ain’t your fight. Steve’s gotta deal with this demon on his own and he has a funny way of showing it, but he knows where to find the people to help when he needs them. I’m sure of it. He’s not that fucking stupid.” 

“Yeah, see you’re wrong there Murray. He does absolutely think that he has to do everything on his own. Even when he knows we’re here, he won’t… he won’t ask for help. He won’t talk about it. He…thinks he deserves it.” 

It ended up being a slow day, not many people wandering the streets with the off and on drizzles happening all day long, so Robin used that time to bring Alex up to speed after she popped in the shop after work. 

Alex found the story surprisingly relatable. She grew up in a house with rich, successful parents just outside the city in the suburbs. Her parents hosted lavish dinner parties for business partners and she grew up in a way that seemed an awful lot like the Harrington house, other than the fact that they didn’t disappear on her for weeks on end. Her parents, however, were disappointed in her. Unlike Steve’s story, they were not pissed at her skill or her work ethic, her dreams or aspirations. No, they were pissed and disappointed at who was calling the house late at night and giggling on the other end of the phone. Who was picking her up for a night at the movies, or who she was driving off to meet under the swaying trees in the park. The boys she was dating were not good enough for the family - not a “strong enough merger of families” and then when she brought home a girl…well that was a horse of a different color all together. 

Five hours later, Robin and Alex are standing outside of their favorite pizza place in the neighborhood, thinking that a pie and some beers might just draw a sulking Steve out of his cave of self-loathing for the night. They haven’t heard from him all day, and Robin, despite thinking she should maybe let him be for a while, still decided to try and call home to check in on him. When he didn’t answer, Alex offered up a simple explanation, “Rob, he’s probably just sleeping it off, or not in the mood. It’ll be fine.”

Pies and six packs now acquired, they walk side by side the rest of the way back to the apartment, ready for whatever their friend might need. 

“Honey, we’re home!” Robin exclaims, as they barrel through the door. But she stops dead in her tracks seeing the counter laid out with all of the supplies, perfectly arranged exactly how she left them that morning. “Steve? Y’okay?”she shouts down the hallway, on her way to tap at his door before she hears Alex call her name from the living room, beckoning her to come. 

When she arrives, what she doesn’t expect to see are the crushed cans of High Life strewn all over the coffee table, an ashtray so full that she knew he had to blow through most of the pack he has tucked away from when they drink, and the half emptied bottle of Whiskey sitting at the foot of the couch. He didn’t even bother with a glass, she knew it. He spent the day trying to drink away the awful things that sorry excuse for a father said to him straight from the bottle. 

His shoes - the Chucks, the ones he’s been wearing lately - they’re not by the door. Neither is his jacket, so she knows he left and went somewhere. 

But then a high pitched beeping sings from the kitchen, and Robin immediately knows that Steve’s Tamagotchi is hungry…he left, but he forgot his keys. That stupid drunk idiot got locked out. 

All the strings Robin has been holding together all day come loose. They unravel like a dangling thread on a handknit sweater and Alex is pretty sure she hadn’t taken one breath since she started rambling. “Ohmygoddoyouthinkhe’sokay? Whatifsomethinghappenedtohim? Ican’tlivewithmyself. Howdoweevenfindhim? OhmygodI’mgonnahavetotellthekidshe’smissing. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” 

“Robin.” Alex calmly speaks.

“Ifhe’sdeadI’mblaminghisdad,Isweartogodhe’sasgoodasadeadmanhimself” 

“Robin.”

“Jesus,weshouldcallthehopsital? Ormaybethepolice. Yeahwegottacallsomeone. Ohmygod.”

“ROBIN!” Alex finally screams, two hands on her shoulders now shaking her into some sense of reality. “You’re spiraling. You can’t be spiraling. We have to think.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just….”

“Rob, I know you’re worried. We’ll figure it out. Okay?” Alex slides her hand along Robin’s cheek, around her neck and tugging her in for a deep hug, trying to get her to reset, regroup…focus. “Babe, first thing….why do you think he would leave?”

Pulling back, she assesses the situation. Eyes darting around the apartment, closing her eyes so she could think. Just then they pop open looking at the mess on the coffee table. The beer. That was the last of the beer. 

“He was out…” she whispers. “I bet he ran out of beer. That was all we had, and it looks like he polished it off.”

“Okay then. Let’s go for a walk. Check some places where he might get some beers - maybe the corner store you guys go to? See if anyone has seen him, okay? Sound good babe?” Alex’s tone is cool, calm. Her eyes are caring and concerned not just for Steve but also for Robin. She’s being so soft, and even in her panicked haze, Robin notices. 

“Al…Thank you. I needed that.”

With a soft kiss on her temple, Alex grabs Robin’s hand and tugs her towards the door. “Now don’t forget your keys, either, you maniac. Let’s go.”

It’s three pit stops and two meltdowns from Robin on the sidewalk curb later that they find him. It’s honestly the first place they should have looked, but at least they were on the right track. 

Steve did, in fact, get raging pissed that he was out of beer. The cashier they recognize, but don’t know his name, told them as much - mentioned that their friend came in angry and stumbling, grabbed a pack of beer and left it in the middle of the aisle when he rushed out of the store grumbling to himself. It seems as though dear Stevie also forgot his wallet. 

The next place they thought to look was The Hideout. Robin thought that maybe he’d come looking for her, begging for some cash so he could replenish his stash. Pay no mind to the fact that it was past closing for a weeknight and Robin was long gone, at this point they were absolutely certain Steve had no idea what time it even was. Half expecting to see him leaning on the door of the shop, or passed out in a slump on the front stoop, when they came up empty handed again Robin needed to cry.

Head in her hands, leaning on her knees as she sits on the curb, Alex tries to stifle a laugh at how splotchy faced and snotty her beautiful girl is right now. “Baby,” she says, pushing back her hair “Baby…let’s think, kay? is there anywhere else Steve feels safe in this city? Who else does he feel safe with other than you?”

The revelation comes quickly. 

Head popping up with a renewed sense of confidence in their search for their missing and probably sloppily drunk friend “I bet he’s at Bennys.” 

And after a 10 minute walk that is the most silent Robin Buckley has ever been in her entire life, she lets out a breath that she may or may not have been holding the entire time when the door to Benny’s swings open and she takes in Steve with his forehead on the bar. Hopper is standing behind the bar polishing glasses with an irritated scowl and right in front of Steve stands a Joyce, hand right on top of his with sad, concerned eyes that flit right to the girls who just sounded the bell. 

Pitiful. The look Joyce was giving him was pity. And if Steve were coherent enough to realize it, he would be completely ashamed to be receiving it from anyone. Steve was shitfaced drunk out of shame and disappointment and whatever feelings of inadequacy he was shielding away from everyone else in his life, but at least he was safe. Thank Christ he had the decency to come to Benny’s, where at least Joyce would take care of him - make sure he doesn’t do anything else stupid. 

“Steve!” Robin yells, rushing over to his side “Steve, we didn’t know where you were. And you left your keys. I was so worried. We thought you were dead, I swear….well I thought you were dead. Alex was much more rational, but…” 

A groan falls from Steve’s throat as their attention turns to Joyce. She opens her mouth to speak but Hopper interjects before she could even get a word out. 

“Your buddy here is a fucking mess. He’s lucky this is Rick’s third stop on his daily tour of downtown dive bars. Recognized the bastard and drug him over here after he got kicked out of wherever they were before this. I honestly don't know where. Ricky’s always so drunk I probably shouldn't even be serving him by the time he gets here anyway.``

“Steve, honey.” Joyce’s honey soft voice stirs him “Your girls are here. Rob and Alex, they’re here for you, baby. Let them help you, okay? Y’cant stay here like this.” She says as she rubs his hair back and tries to soothe him awake. 

“He’s been drinking straight ginger ale for at least an hour. He thinks it's mixed with whiskey but I just couldn't. It was easier than him and Hop arguing ‘bout it.” she says under her breath, just out of his earshot. 

After agreeing to let him sweat it out for a bit longer, Joyce passes the girls a drink while they wait and slides another ginger ale in a rocks glass in front of Steve with a wink.  With soft voices they talk about what has unfolded today just loud enough to hear each other over the din of the jukebox playing “Hunger Strike” in the background. 

Shit. 

As she hears the deep roll of his voice on Eddie Vedder’s verse she’s reminded of you, and remembers the cryptic message she most likely left you on your answering machine. Even though the boy is sitting there in the flesh in front of them, his eyes now open enough to see the whites of them, his stare is vacant and he hasn’t looked this way since… well. Ever. Robin has seen him through some pretty serious shit, and he’s never looked quite this detached. 

“I’m worried about him, girls.” Joyce coos. 

With a nod in agreement, she asks for the only thing she can think to do next. “Joyce, can I use your phone? I gotta call someone who might be able to help.”

Alex’s eyes go wide and she winces, “You sure that’s a good idea, Rob? I mean, I see where you’re going with this, but he’s gonna be pissed, isn’t he?’

Seeing the look of confusion on Joyce’s face, Robin grabs the phone and continues “It’s..a girl. He’s fine. It’ll be fine. I don’t care if he’s pissed about it at this point. We need help and… I might have already left her a message earlier in a panic. Oh - Hey!” interrupted in her rambling as you answer the phone on the first ring. “Yeah, yeah I’m so sorry about that weird message earlier. It’s been a… day - a real bad one. We need some help. We’re at Benny’s, and…it’s just - Steve. We need help with Steve, can you come?”

Of course you will. You were there to help as soon as you could. And just like Robin and Alex assumed, Steve was pissed. 

“I'm just saying Stevie, you didn't have to be so mean to her. She came because I called. Didya really expect the two of us to be able to drag your sorry ass home without calling in reinforcement? Have you seen my arms? They're basically twigs!”

“I wasn't trying to be mean to her. It was you guys. I was pissed you called her…cause I didn't… It's embarrassing. She didn't need to see me like that. I know you were trying to help. You can barely carry a damn grocery bag, so I get it, its just… I was pathetic.”

“Well. You said it, I didn't.” Robin shrugs, kicking her feet up on the stool next to her by the register. It's been a few days and they're at least able to poke fun a little bit at the whole thing. Steve and Rob had a long talk after he was able to shake off a two day long hangover that he spent in the dark, shades drawn - crackers and some Pedialyte by his bedside. 

Steve eventually spilled his guts to Robin on the fire escape while she smoked, his throat still too sore from the pack he inhaled in his drunken rage that day. He wouldn't even look at her when he told her about how his dad was talking about… her. Told her that there's been a lot of terrible, downright rude things that his dad has done and said over the years that he's made an excuse for or ignored, but that…that disregard, that intolerance he showed for someone that Steve cared about. That when it comes down to it, Steve loved. That was the last straw. He couldn't turn a blind eye anymore. 

He didn't feel he owed his dad an explanation. If he really thought Steve would show up this weekend with his bags and his Beamer ready to put on a suit and head to the office alongside his dad on Monday, he has another thing coming. 

Murray saunters into the storefront then “Before I finalize this schedule, ya sure you're gonna show up on Monday, dude? Last chance to turn in your notice and go shadow daddy dearest, because if you no call no show me on this schedule next week consider this bridge burned.”

“No way in hell, Murray. I'm fully committed to your dick shop. I'll sell anything you dream up over spending one hour in a building full of pricks like my dad. Don't care how much the salary is or how big the guilt trip.” 

“Well in that case, Steve, it sounds to me that where your dad works is the real dick shop, huh? We…deal only in one way tickets to pleasure town here.” 

“Touche” Steve gives Murray a pow pow with his finger guns before walking through the dangling beads hanging at the entrance to the break room. 

Emerging twenty minutes later (and five minutes late from his break) Steve is unsurprised to find Alex spread across the length of the couch. “What are you two assholes doing?” 

“Hi Alex, thanks again for saving my life and ensuring I don't die in a ditch or need my stomach pumped from alcohol poisoning and ensuring that my most magnetic and caring roommate and best friend didn't have a stroke while I was missing. It's nice to see you again. I am forever in your debt.” Alex mocks with a deep voice meant to imitate his while Robin cackles, slapping her thighs. 

“Smash or pass” she deadpans. “Julia Roberts.”

“Pass” Steve and Robin say in unison. 

“Really?” Alex pops up in surprise. 

“I guess I just don’t get the appeal with that one. I like her movies, though, just…don’t wanna see her bush. No rolling in the hay with her for me.” Robin says very matter of factly. 

“Yeah, for me” Steve quips pointing right at Robin. “Reminds me too much of this asshole right here. Can’t even think about it.” 

Madonna. Demi Moore. Sharon Stone. Liv Tyler was a unanimous smash. An hour went by throwing out names and shouting out whether or not they were fuckable before Alex’s bisexual ass snuck in Brad Pitt.

“Bleh, pass. That's a dick.”

“Smash.” Steve's eyes go wide. Did he just…

“Stevie boy, did you just smash Brad Pitt?” Alex is literally on the edge of her seat at this point. Robin's jaw is just about on the floor. He's waving her off “That…that's not.. I mean. If I were I guess…he’s a good looking guy, s’all I’m saying.”

 “You would like the golden boy type shit. I'm more of a ruggedly handsome older man kinda bisexual. I bet you'd smash Patrick Swayze too, handsome. UNLESS…are we talking Interview with a Vampire long hair type Pitt because…”

“This is too much for me!” Robin is shouting as she starts pacing. 

“Robbie, I’d expect a little more tolerance from you. I’m disappointed.” Steve pokes fun. “Anyway, you do have the late shift today, so I’ll save you from thinking about me boning Brad Pitt and get out of here.”

“Ew. Steve. No. You and Pitt? You’re definitely bottom. He’s batter dipping the corn dog, not you.”

Raising his middle finger in the air, he gestures behind him to the girls as he walks out the door. 

After grabbing a coffee, Steve swings into the record store to browse for some new vinyls. The guy at the front desk is starting to get to know Steve, and he likes that the guy is comfortable enough to make recommendations or pulls a vinyl or two to save for next time Steve comes in. It makes him feel memorable. He’s little more than guy at the record store to Steve, but yet guy at the record store cared enough to think about him and what he might like even when he’s not here. 

It’s stuff like this, that he hasn’t really experienced until he moved here to the city, that makes Steve feel less than insignificant. Who would have thought that coming to a city filled to the brim with more people than he knows what to do with would make him feel more seen than a small town where everyone knows your name ever did. 

He grabs his bag, filled with three new recommendations from guy at the record store, and he’s heading for the door before the cashier yells out “Oh damn, bro. I almost forgot. Someone left this for you. It’s already paid for, so don’t worry about it, but she said you gotta hear this one.” Steve reaches out to grab the bright red sleeve and turns it over twice before slipping it into his bag. “Yeah thanks dude. See ya around.” 

He lies to himself when he thinks that the brisk pace he is walking on his way home is because the nights are turning colder in the city and he wants to get home. He lies to himself a second time when he says he wants to keep moving so he takes the stairs two at a time instead of waiting on the elevator. He lies to himself for a third time, pretending that he’s not really in a rush even though he doesn’t take off his shoes and jacket before he makes a beeline right for his record player all while unwrapping that vinyl he knows that you left for him. 

The whirring of the player and the zap of the scratching needle connecting with the plastic make his brain start to buzz and he’s done lying to himself when he thinks that he was so fucking stupid when he shouted at you - drunk out of his mind or not, he has been expecting you to never speak to him again, so…you leaving this for him might just mean…

In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey

Butane in my veins and I'm out to cut the junkie

With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables

Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose

What the fuck did she leave me? He thinks, as he lets the record spin and listens, patiently. Waiting for the hook. Waiting for the bass drop. Waiting for those deep drum rhythms he likes so much. Waiting for the lyrics that are supposed to hit home.

Oh. 

Soy un perdedor

I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

(Double-barrel buckshot)

“Maybe I should just move home and take a stupid job with my dad like he’s been telling me to do since junior year of high school.”

Murray hears the boy complaining as he walks through the door with three giant boxes stacked on top of one another. “Casanova. Hey!” Setting them down he snaps both his fingers right in Steve’s face “We’ve been over this… focus on my dick shop, not your dads. I got new goods, get your sweet ass over here.”

He waves Steve and Robin over to the front window, and they dutifully follow. Ripping open the boxes with a rusty pocket knife he pulls from his tube sock, Murray rambles about the boxes filled with a new Latex fashion line he was checking out at the expo. He shoos Steve off to grab the mannequins from the back storage room so they can set up the window display. “Make sure to grab the dudes with the biggest packages back there, Stevie-boy!” before looking at Robin curiously, asking her to spill the details and explain the pivot back into full on self-loathing Steve took. 

“Ah, the lady friend? She gave him that? Sassy. I think I like her. If he doesn't want her…” wiggling his eyebrows, Murray is quickly cut off as Steve re-enters the floor.

“Doesn’t want who?’ Steve says, male mannequin under each arm. 

“Oh, nothing. I gotta go get some lunch. I’ll grab the plastic girls on my way back in and you two can play dress up.” 

“Hey Stevie, whaddya think?” Robin’s got one of the black latex outfits held out in front of her as she tries anything but effortlessly shaking her hips to the beat of the song playing overhead on the speakers. The would-be seductive dance is cut off when her face lights up, running off to the break room with the package in hand.

“I don’t like that look Robbie. What are you doing?”

Shaking the beads dangling from the door frame to announce her re-entry, Steve’s eyes glance up before doing a double take. Robin stood there, leaning into the wall looking as casual as she possibly can (which isn’t that casual, honestly), standing in a full head to toe black latex catsuit. If Steve could have, he would have taken a polaroid if not just to gift to Alex as a thank you, or apology. Whatever she needs most from him - he’s not too sure at this point. Robin arches her back like she’s posing for a centerfold and it’s not long before the two of them are deep in a fit of laughter from her antics. 

Except something goes wrong. The fit of laughter soon lets up, but Robin still can’t catch her breath. Steve is breathing deep, grinning again and shaking his head at her, and while she’s happy she’s coaxing out a laugh and a smile she hasn’t seen from him in over a week, her chest is getting tighter by the second. 

Looking at his friend's pallid face, his eyes dart around thinking while she starts wheezing for air. “Rob…are you...you’re not allergic to latex, are you?”

She shakes her head no adamantly but quickly backtracks, realizing that no, she can’t be sure she’s not allergic to latex. Holding up her hands between the two of them, her wrists are ballooning up around the seam of the catsuit sleeves, body swelling up making the suit stretch over her skin even tighter. She starts to claw at it, trying to get it off, but it’s so slippery and tight, and suctioned to her sweaty skin that it won’t budge and her panicked expression locks on to Steve’s. 

“You didn’t know you were allergic to latex? What the fuck Robbie?” 

“When was I supposed to find out, huh? Not like I’ve been carrying around condoms since I was 15 like you, you asshole!”

“So what…that’s not… What about a balloon? Haven’t you ever been around a fucking balloon before, Rob?”

“Steve, I'm poor. We didn’t buy balloons for birthday parties. I didn’t get….extra…shit. I…no. I can’t remember …ever having a…. balloon.” She’s sucking in breaths between words as much as she can. “Steve, help. It’s….I can’t…”

Walking down the street, Murray is on his way back from grabbing his sandwich, when he spots the flashing lights on the street ahead. What he doesn’t expect is to see those flashing lights belonging to an ambulance pulled up outside of his store. Dropping his sandwich into the grimey gutter, he’s absolutely dumbfounded at the sight before him - Robin laid out on the stretcher, clearly naked and covered with a white sheet and his new inventory in shreds on the sidewalk after the paramedics had to cut it off of her. “Oh for fucks, sake. I didn’t literally mean you should play dress up, Red.” 

It takes the paramedics another 20 minutes to get her settled and breathing from an oxygen tank in the back of the rig and explain the situation to Murray and Steve. Her reaction was bad, so they should expect her to be down and out for at least three days until the swelling goes down and she can recover her breathing enough to function normally. Murray storms off into the store grumbling about Workers Comp paperwork and throwing his hands in the air while Steve stays back, readying himself to climb into the back of the rig and ride with his friend before she stops him. 

“Listen, dude. I’m clearly not gonna be home tonight, and you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t you dare think you’re gonna sit and keep watch at my bedside. This is definitely the only time in my life my tits will look this big, so I’m not about to invite you in. Alex gets clear first dibs before the swelling goes down.” 

Steve grimaces, scrunching his nose up in disgust “Ew, gross Robbie. Stop talking to me about your tits.” 

“Whatever. All I’m saying is, maybe take advantage of the empty house? I know she sent you a message loud and clear with that record but I still don’t buy that she won't give you a shot to explain. Call her. Please?” 

All he can do is nod as she pats his hand and smiles. He backs away so they can close up the rig and watches as they pull off, lights flashing with his swollen raspberry of a friend in tow. 

Murray ends up closing the shop early that night, saying he’s had it up to here with both of them and he just wants to go see Hop and Joyce for an ice cold drink. Before Steve could even respond, Murray’s finger is in his face “NO. You’re not invited this time, buddy. I don’t wanna see your face until tomorrow. And you have the late shift. I don’t wanna close and I think you two owe me.”

“Owe you?! What the heck, I didn’t do anything, man. Robin, she is the one that -”

“No, you listen here. Your moping and loathing is getting irritating. I like you, unfortunately. I’m not sure why, but I like you Steve, and you’ve been fucking annoying since you let your dad get in your head. And whatever is going on with this lady friend, you better fix it.” He pokes Steve right in the chest - hard.

“Is she a girl, or a woman, Steve?” he says, and Steve remembers their chat about Steve’s choices. Why they never seem to work out and how he keeps going for the wrong kind. 

“She’s … she’s a woman. Obviously. She doesn’t want to put up with my bullshit.”

“Fix it, Steve. Thank me later.” 

He had two beers before he worked up the nerve to pick up the phone. He probably would have had another, but he thought better of it considering the last time he saw you. More like the last time you saw him because he doesn’t fucking remember a lick of it. An apology probably wouldn’t go over very well if he was shitfaced again all because he needed some liquid courage to get the balls to call you up. 

It took three, long, agonizing rings for you to pick up, your voice suddenly some sort of beacon in the night for him. He was silent for a beat too long, and just when you went to hang up muttering “whatever asshole, prank call someone else next time” he finally was able to whisper out your name just loud enough that it traveled through the phone line and made it to your ears. 

“You got my record?” 

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I deserved that… and it’s actually good.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I know. Can I see you?”

And to his surprise, you agreed. You asked him to meet you outside, so you can walk to the cafe together. Promised in a way that had him believing it would all be fine - that you’ll figure it out from there. So he’s sitting on the bench outside of his building waiting, legs bouncing up and down uncontrollably mind weight down from anticipation, nerves and his least favorite piece of baggage, self-doubt. 

“You look like you’re waiting on something, boy. Don't wait too long, or you’ll end up looking like me and still never finding what you’re lookin’ for, ya know?”

Steve chuckles and nods. He thinks he does know. And God, he doesn’t want to spend his life chasing an idea and running away every time he gets close because he’s sure he’s not good enough for it. He doesn’t want to be sitting on a bench when he’s 80 lamenting about how he used to look good, had the good hair before it all fell out and turned gray, would get the girls and throw the parties, could pound back a six pack like it’s no big deal, how he was the former Keg King - King Steve. Like that all means anything at all. None of it did. It was all bullshit. 

“I’m Steve” he says, holding his hand out and reaching across the bench. The man reaches out accepting his grasp and introduces himself as Robert.“You live here too?” he nods back at the apartment building. 

“Sure do. Me and my little rascal Dart.” and Steve notices the small dog laying quietly at the man’s feet. 

“What you said before…I am waiting on something. Someone actually. But…I think I’m mostly waiting on myself.” 

“Ah, yes. That’s the age old problem innit? We’re always late to our own party. Been in this city for decades and it’s all the same. Young kids like you are lost until they find what they’re looking for, but some of ‘em, they never find it. No one leads ‘em to it and they forget that it’s even worth lookin’ for along the way.” 

Steve nods, a little solemnly, at the wisdom the old man is sharing. Resonating just a bit closer to home than the old man probably knows. But then he sees a flash of you from down the sidewalk, your jacket wrapped tight around your body, a tentative smile on your face when you see Steve waiting for you like he promised. 

“Ah,” the man laughs a hearty laugh. “She looks like she’s worth waiting for though, my boy. You should go.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” Steve says with a bright smile, and it’s genuine. Maybe she's worth it? Or Maybe Steve will see the old man again. He's not sure which he meant, actually. Maybe…both. 

The walk to the cafe seems to go on for eons. After an interaction teetering on awkward, feet pushing at invisible rocks on the pavement and tentative smiles, you both head in that direction side by side, stealing glances for a block or two before either one breaks the silence.

It seems like both of you have let the dull drone of the city take up enough space in the night and you finally speak up at the same time. 

“I am sorry for being such a mess.”

“I'm sorry for being a bitch.”

“No. No.” You cut him off. “Yeah you're right. You were a mess and you were kind of a dick about it. I'm not gonna excuse that. But you were a mess, and Robin and Alex were worried for good reason, obviously. You were a mess because something happened and I can't be mad at that. I can be frustrated with how you handled yourself…how you treated people who were just there to fucking help you, man, but at the end of the day, you were going through some shit and…I held it against you instead of helped. And then I got you that record and…”

“I…yeah I should not have drank my problems like that. I shouldn't have. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. That song is…not that far off. Might be my theme song, actually.” He holds back a small laugh to himself. “I do stupid shit. That's not new. But…I wasn't mad at anyone until -”

“You sure seemed mad, Steve.”

“I was…it's just. I guess I'm realizing now I wasn't actually mad at anyone but myself and my dad until you showed up.”

“Correct. You made that loud and clear.”

“Oh. I -” silence falls over them for a few steps, Steve finally looking over at you in a way that makes you feel like he's looking into you not at you this time. “I think I finally understand. Can…can I try and explain? Once we get there?”

You nod. And you let him. 

Like a floodgate, the honesty Steve holds back on a regular basis flows out the minute he starts. Tucked in the back corner of the cafe, a steaming hot chai in front of you, a black coffee with cinnamon and nutmeg there in front of him, he tells you how growing up actually felt for him. Not just the my dad is an asshole version but how it really affected him. He says it out loud and admits the way his dad made him feel. Tells you stories about all the sports and the winning and the popularity that was never what he wanted anyway. Tells you how his dad has spent his whole life grooming him to be a mini-version of Mr Harrington, and that's the absolute last thing in the world he wants to be. He just wants to be Steve - whoever that is. 

And he cries. He cries when he tells you about the phone call. You notice it's not at the mean things his dad says to him, the names he's called or the put downs about his life that break him down - it's when he tells you about the disdain in his dads voice when he berates him about being friends with the gays. How he couldn't look at Robin after the way his dad talked and how he felt more shame in that moment than any other. Not ashamed that he’s friends with Robin. Not in a million years, but more from the idea that his dad - no anyone - would be lucky to find a friend half as good as Robin is, so who the fuck cares who she loves, right? Jesus Christ. Shame that someone he loves has to live in a world where people like his dad exist. 

You both need a refill before he can get through the hard part, though, the part where he hurt you. Steve motions to your empty cup asking if he can get you more and before you know it, comes back a short time later with two new steaming mugs and plates of assorted pastries and snacks balancing on top. I didn't know what you'd like, so I got it all. 

Something tells you that even if you don't actually say it, Steve would know for next time. He'd know that you're a sucker for their blondies and like to snack on their homemade caramel corn because even as he's spilling his guts he's paying attention to you, and from here on out every time you meet Steve Harrington at the cafe, he'd have your drink and a plate with a blondie on it waiting for you every single time. 

Then, Steve tells you about that day. About how he remembers chain-smoking inside the house and how he knew Robin would fuck me up for it but I didn’t care. He recalls for you how he sat on the sofa with the whiskey bottle muttering to himself about the things his dad said, trying to figure out why this man thinks he can still push his grown son around. He tells you he remembers leaving to get another 6-pack when he ran out but that was the last of it. He doesn't remember much of anything or how he got to Benny's. Hop had told him, and he makes sure to remind him every time he's seen him since that he was pitiful watching Steve being drug in by the drunkest man on the block. Never thought I'd see the day anyone was more drunk than goddamn Rick, boy. Sure proved me wrong. 

And when he gets to the part where his friends show up, when you show up, he looks downright ashamed and worried. With a deep sigh, falling from his lips, he tells you that the next and only other thing he remembers from that night was you walking through the door. With his head lain on the bar, vision completely sideways, what he saw was a fucking angel walking into the bar. Thought he was hallucinating or maybe even finally out of his misery and you were coming to bring him towards the light, until his brain made you right side up and he realized who it was. 

He didn’t remember the yelling, but Robin told him later how big of a douchebag he was when all he did was start yelling at you and making one hell of a scene. Hearing Robin tell him about how he shouted and asked in such an accusatory tone What are you doing here? made him wonder if he was no better than his dad in the first place. Sounded an awful lot like him in the moment, at least. 

You think he looks like a kicked puppy as he explains the rest. “I - I don't expect you to say anything. Or do anything. I don't expect you to forgive me or…” running his hands through his hair you can tell he's trying to pluck up some semblance of courage. 

“The thing is, I was mad when my drunk brain finally registered that you were there, and you were there to help. Because I didn't want that. Help sure…I fucking needed help. You saw me. But you….” His swallow is so loud it's audible. 

“I was embarrassed I didn't want you to see me like that. I… “

Reaching across the table you gently touch his forearm and it gives him enough courage to finish what he has to say. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like that, because I like you too much…Like, the real kind. And I feel so stupid saying it out loud, because I thought that if I showed you how broken I was, you’d see that I wasn’t worth it. Maybe you don’t think I am in the first place and that’s fine I can be just your friend. S’probably all I deserve, honestly.” 

He chances a look at you just then, and when it’s not a scowl or indifference he feels safe rough to continue. “Before I didn’t know why I was being such a jerk and I figured it was just because - I am a Harrington, after all. But, I understand why I did it now. I understand that even though I did it wrong, I was trying to protect you from me, and I was trying to protect myself from… ”

Scooting your chair closer to Steve, you push his wild and windswept hair back so you can see him even when his head is hanging low. His eyes flit up to yours and there’s no pity in your eyes. He was expecting pity at the very least, but it’s not there.

“Steve, who says I need to be protected? Especially from you?”

He doesn’t expect your fingers to find his on the walk away from the cafe. He doesn’t expect your touch to be soft. He doesn’t expect it to stay longer than a second - maybe just the gift of something fleeting. But it is. It does. Your fingers hook into his and they don’t pull away, holding on to him and his limp hand before he can even process what he’s being given. Fingers hooked and coaxing him to just let go and embrace it. Fingers he accepts as he laces his with yours, and they stay that way for the entire walk back to his apartment. 

—-

A nod of the head with a huge grin spread across his face, Robert welcomes Steve back to the building, still perched on the same bench he walked away from a few hours ago. Maybe Dart needed to go out again, or maybe Robert never left, but in that moment, Steve thought about everything the old man said to him earlier. He’s done with waiting. Waiting has gotten him nowhere. Hiding his feelings has gotten him nowhere. The only person standing in his way is himself. 

Your name falls from his lips softly, but there’s something there that wasn’t there earlier in the shop. It’s more sure of himself, almost confident. The predictable thing to come next was a goodnight kiss on his front stoop, and you’re thinking that maybe after all this time and him finally admitting that he’s into you, you’ll get what you’ve been wanting since that night in the back seat of the cab, or when you felt your tummy flip sitting across from him eating that ice cream. Poised to lift up on your toes to close the distance, instead he surprises you when he tugs your arm and pulls you inside the front door to his building with a grin. 

And you got that kiss. Oh God, did you get it. 

When the door closed to their apartment, Steve turned around to look at you. There was a heat behind his eyes as he slid your coat off of your shoulders for you, and a yearning hiding there when he looks up at you from below as he crouches down to help you slip off your shoes. Rising back up in front of you he’s close. So close that his lips are just barely apart from yours and the heat of his breath tickles your cheeks. The pair of you are so close that there’s barely any space between your bodies when you suddenly find your back pressed up against the door behind you. 

Lips finally touching, slow and just barely you breathe out “Robin…” 

“That’s not my name, honey.”

And you laugh. A sweet thing that makes Steve’s insides twist and turn.

“She won’t be home tonight. There was some latex…She’s fine. I’ll explain later.”

The kiss you finally get is sloppy, but in the best way. There’s no time for chaste kisses here, pillowy lips slotted together and moving effortlessly between one another. He adjusts your chin with the tips of his fingers so that he can gently caress the line of your jaw, following it back down and up again as he slides his fingers through the base of your hair. His grip there is tight, but not painful, Possessive but not overwhelming. It’s like he’s got something he wants so desperately and he’s afraid to let it go. 

He gently touches your upper lip with the tip of his tongue, coaxing you open further for him, letting his tongue follow the outlines of your teeth before letting his dance together with yours. He lets out a small sigh as you continue to nip at each other's lips and play with how you both respond to one another's kiss. The sigh makes your mouth crack open in a smile, cheeks drawing up with the grin and encouraging his kisses to explore elsewhere. Small pecks start on the corner of your mouth and then your cheeks, right on the apple of them as their pulled taught by your smile. 

Moving down towards your jaw, your neck, they get more and more salacious the lower they get. Red and pricking, a bruise is blooming at the spot on your neck just under your ear where he settles in to suck and kiss at your skin while the whimper that falls from your lips as he does it and your fingertips running through his hair and scratching at his scalp keep him grounded - barely capable of holding it together as is. 

When you ask him what he wants, the answer he gives you is not one you expected. Sure you expected him to want to dote on you - after all, he’s attentive like that on any given day, so Steve being a giver in the sheets was almost…a given? But when his gasping breaths punctuate each word that comes out of his mouth Can you … I want you to ride my face? was a pleasant surprise. 

Now surprising him, you not only agreed, but were confident about it. “Always wanted this. No…no one would let me.” He tells you as he breathes into you, chest heaving, foreheads touching. He barely notices as you pull the top of your dress down and work it over your shoulders, then the swell of your breasts. He only registers your exposed skin as you guide his hands down to your waist so he can hold you steady as you step out of it. 

Coaxing him backwards towards the sofa, you tap his shoulder and tell him to sit down on the floor, back against the furniture, as you make a show of removing your bra. He does as you ask, unable to tear his eyes away from your supple skin and perfectly peaked nipples, making a mental note that later he absolutely has to get his mouth on them. As you shimmy down your underwear in front of him, you pause to add a kiss to the top of his head before dropping the garment directly in his lap.

He bunches them up in his hand, sliding them into his front pocket for later as you settle over him, “Y’know…they call this Queening?” perched there on your knees, you’re fully undressed and slotted above his face so casually. 

“Mmmm. Makes sense.” He says, against the seam of your pussy and your thighs, making you vibrate with his words and his gentle hum. 

“R’mind me to tell you why one day.”

“Mmmmhmm. Sure thing.” In a haze, he reaches around you, fingers digging into your supple ass and pulling you closer. Forward and over, just where he wants you. The perfect position where he can use both his mouth and his nose - just like Robin told him he should.  Head moving subtly left to right, he tests it out, tip of his nose gently nudging your clit left to right and right to left and his warm breath teasing your wet, glistening folds. You let out a gasp followed by a small breathy little uhh, that has his ears ringing and he’s happy. Pleased with his position, he slips his tongue out and traces you with it, before returning with a big, firm lick - tongue flattened and wide making sure you touch all of you in one pass. Those big hands wrap further around you, now snaking over the tops of your thighs and this time tugging you down. Down down down and there’s nowhere else to go. 

Now you’ve had some fine oral sex before. It’s a non-negotiable for you when it comes to relationships: If a man is worried about tasting your clit, you don’t want him. You’re worth more than that. You’ve even done this a time or two, but Steve nestled between your thighs, under you like this fully clothed and pulling you into his face further despite there not being anywhere else to go is otherworldly.  

Other times you’ve found yourself in this position were tactical. A position change, a new angle, just for fun, a lazy guy. But being perched on top of Steve Harrington’s face is making you feel like a true goddess. You were about to give him a history lesson and tell him why this is called Queening and instead he’s proving it to you. Making you feel just like one.

Between smooth glides of his tongue, Steve sucks at your lips, your clit, the seam of your thigh. Once you’ve settled and allow yourself to fully relax over top of him, he releases his bruising grip - perfect tiny crescents left behind in their wake - and uses those free hands wherever he can reach. Sliding up your spine, ghosting over the peach of your ass, along the curve of your backside and between them, too. 

You’re not quiet anymore. You couldn’t be if you tried, and if you weren’t muffling the sounds coming from him with your thighs, you’re pretty sure the symphony of both of your moans would be enough to tip you over the edge. Since his are busy elsewhere, your hands find their way to your tits, rolling your nipples between your fingers and throwing your head back in pleasure as you start to absentmindedly grind on his face. 

He lets you bask in your pleasure for a while before tugging you out of your daze, hands covering the small of your back, pulling and angling you forward so that your hands fall to the arm of the sofa behind him. Now, leaning over him, soft and subtle grinding returning like muscle memory, he takes the opportunity to slide his fingers in from behind, just alongside his mouth. Thick digits slipping inside, scissoring alongside the wet muscle of his tongue, nose nudging your clit between deep rolls of your hips against him, he notices the twitching of your velvety walls first, followed by the shaking of your thighs. 

Freeing his hands, he finds your legs again, if only to hold you down to ride out your climax, combating how badly your sensitive body is trying to pull away, just slightly. The work he’s putting in on your pussy is paying off tenfold when you tremble and shake above him. Unable to move from the vice grip he has on your legs, you have no choice but to cry out and let him lap at you, drink you up until you're overstimulated and begging him to stop. 

Limp and satiated, you easily fall into his arms as he moves up between you and the couch, pulling you into his lap. Your head lolls forward has he grabs your cheeks to look at you “Y’feel good baby? Y’feel like a Queen?” 

You nod, dazed but eager and happy as he lifts you and stands. Legs wrapping around his hips while he peppers you with kisses that taste like your own pleasure, he carries you down the hallway to his room. 

Kicking open the door, he stalks over to his bed and tosses you onto it without a second thought.  Looking up at him with big doe eyes, he knows he’s done for. He can’t move fast enough as he loosened his belt and tugs down his pants. Crawling over you on his bed, he nudges that nose against yours again to get your attention. “You wanna? We don’t have to y’know?”

“Steve Harrington, I want to so bad, I’m gonna make you forget your name.” 

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnrichardpapen @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamngoldrush @middle-of-the-sky @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington @superblysubpar

[nientedenada]

Why the Altmeri Commentary on Talos is Important to Lore Discussion (Even if It Isn't the Thalmor's End Goal) 

Originally posted on r/teslore three years ago. To be clear, important in this context means if you're trying to guess where TES might go in the future. And as the years go by, and we now have an almost complete turn-over of developers at Bethesda, it may be less relevant. Still, the new developers will have all these old ideas to rummage through.

This begins with a split among fans, though I don't think it has to be a nasty split. There is a very strong opinion in /r/teslore that Out-of-Game texts are valid if you want them to be, if you find them interesting enough for your Tamriel. And there's another very strong opinion that only official lore is really valid for theorizing. To be completely honest, we all probably dabble in one or the other at different times. Sometimes we are more creative and speculatory about Tamriel, other times we are arguing out the Lowest Common Denominator of agreed-upon lore. (It's never actually agreed upon, but that's part of the fun.)

But there's a third possibility: examining Out of Game texts for the perspective they can give us on In-game lore. A really good example of how this works would be the document: On the Nords' Totem Religion. It was a design document for Skyrim which was not incorporated into the game directly. However, the document gives a lot of insight into the little we do see in Skyrim of the ancient Nord religion. It is useful in interpreting the game itself.

It's also useful for going forward. When ESO returned to Skyrim this year, we could bet that the devs would be taking a closer look at the local religion, as they had in Elsweyr last year. And we could also guess that they might turn to that unofficial Skyrim design document which best explained the original ideas for the Nord religion. As of a few weeks ago, much of the Totem Religion document's lore has been added to the official lore as in-game books in ESO.

The totem religion document is as uncontroversial example of this process as you can find. Most everyone in lore circles has regarded it as a very useful document. You won't find that agreement about all OOG unofficial writings. But I'd like to make the argument for why the Altmeri Commentary on Talos is worth knowing and discussing even if you don't end up thinking it's true.

So, I'll begin with quoting the whole thing. It's pretty short.

What appears to be an Altmeri commentary on Talos To kill Man is to reach Heaven, from where we came before the Doom Drum's iniquity. When we accomplish this, we can escape the mockery and long shame of the Material Prison. To achieve this goal, we must: 1) Erase the Upstart Talos from the mythic. His presence fortifies the Wheel of the Convention, and binds our souls to this plane. 2) Remove Man not just from the world, but from the Pattern of Possibility, so that the very idea of them can be forgotten and thereby never again repeated. 3) With Talos and the Sons of Talos removed, the Dragon will become ours to unbind. The world of mortals will be over. The Dragon will uncoil his hold on the stagnancy of linear time and move as Free Serpent again, moving through the Aether without measure or burden, spilling time along the innumerable roads we once travelled. And with that we will regain the mantle of the imperishable spirit.

What it doesn't say: Nowhere does it say it's a Thalmor document. Nowhere does it mention the Towers. Those two points are pretty well-known in lore circles, but they come up enough to make it worthwhile to point out.

Second thing to notice: its date.

Submitted by Lady N on Sun, 09/19/2010 - 19:53 Obscure texts Author: Michael Kirkbride Librarian Comment: Many of these are in-character snippets taken from various forum posts.

It doesn't have an exact date; the old forums have been deleted. But we do see that it was re-posted on the Imperial Library on 09/19/2010, the year before Skyrim came out. This important detail is glossed over in a lot of the discussion of its relevance. It is not a document written after Skyrim trying to put a creative spin on some details in-game. It's a document published before Skyrim came out, and hence a window on the discussions that were going on in the development of Skyrim. We need to look at the stuff in Skyrim with the question: Does the Altmeri commentary shed any light on what's going on here?

Well, the fact that the Altmeri Commentary suggests that Talos needs to be erased from the mythic makes it very relevant. Maybe this is not the reason for the Thalmor's Talos ban in the game that eventually was released. But it's evidence that during the development of Skyrim, the reason was being kicked around by someone in discussions with the devs. It's that context that finally informs the two lines in-game that might refer back to the Commentary.

The first and most often quoted is Ancano's boast:

You think I can't destroy you? The power to unmake the world at my fingertips, and you think you can do anything about it?

It's pointed out that he can simply be boasting of his power there, without any reference to a supposed greater plan. And yes, that's true. But remember, we aren't interpreting that line in a vacuum. There was a development-related post that brought up a fanatical Altmer idea of unmaking the world before Skyrim, and it's just a coincidence that a fanatic Thalmor member boasts of having the power to do so in the game? These things have nothing to do with each other?

And then there is the other line from Esbern which I think is even more significant.

I don't suppose they want the world to end any more than we do. Or at least, they'd prefer it to end on their terms.

Esbern's statement does not confirm this is the Thalmor's plan. What it does is confirm that the idea this is the Thalmor's plan exists in-universe. And Esbern is not some random conspiracist; he's a lore-master. Dragons were his hobby but we also know from his dossier that the Thalmor consider him responsible for two of the most damaging operations on Dominion soil. He knows his stuff when it comes to the Thalmor. His opinion may be affected by paranoia, he may not even hold the opinion very strongly (suggested by how he corrects himself there), but he is not some random guy in the pub with a conspiracy theory about the Thalmor. If it's a conspiracy theory, it's an important one in-universe.

So, we have a timeline that suggests the Commentary is important, and two references in the game of Skyrim to the idea presented in the Commentary. The references are independent, coming from ideological enemies, Ancano and Esbern. I'd say that makes a very strong case for the Commentary's ideology existing within the universe.

If this concept exists within the universe, the Commentary is important even if it does not represent the Thalmor's ultimate goal accurately.

But where does one go with that? With Michael Kirkbride's historic and ongoing influence on the TES franchise, elements of the Commentary are quite likely to make it into future games. On the other hand, the Commentary may be a window on an idea in development that was tossed around and ultimately abandoned. Maybe it's not Thalmor belief, really. It could even be Blades propaganda. Maybe Ancano believes in it, but he's actually a fanatic who's out of step with the Thalmor in general. etc. etc. etc.

Acknowledging that an Out-of-Game source is relevant does not mean accepting it as the Truth Bound To Be Revealed by TES VI. TES fandom has had enough of that over-certainty already. I think we've all met someone who takes some random developer's post as The Gospel Truth that cannot be questioned. That's frustrating, for sure. But let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater. It doesn't make sense to ignore it completely in discussions about the Thalmor's ultimate goal. There are enough sources to make it worth looking at, both inside and outside the universe.

This post was about the relevance of the Commentary, but if you're interested in how the Commentary's ideology could function within the Thalmor, I can never recommend enough this old /r/teslore post: Analyzing the Altmeri Commentary on Talos.

Additional reply in comments: I thought I'd hedged enough on my statement. I won't claim Esbern as an expert on the Thalmor's ontological goals, although he definitely is more knowledgable about the Thalmor than the random guy at the pub. I do think, however, that his statement confirms that some people within the universe think this is the Thalmor's end goal. I see his statement there as he's not certain himself of it.

In the comments of the original post, a user who has since deleted their account posted a very interesting timeline of the development under discussion. I also recommend this discussion with Misticsan about the post and whether fans give the Commentary undue importance in contrast to other sources on the Thalmor.

This was only the beginning of a very involved journey into the weird fandom status of the Altmeri Commentary and the Towers Theory. It's a lengthy saga, and I've put off formatting it for tumblr but I do mean to eventually copy all the teslore posts over here.

[gravegrime]

I remember sharing this thought on twitter about storytelling as a meme like a month ago and ever since then I’ve wanted to expand on it somewhere that had the character limit for it.  Somewhere like here!  lol

This is a long one lads so feel free to skip on by if you’re not interested in all the very opinionated things I have to say.

Storytelling fills me with a firey passion that very little else does.  Being whisked away to a world full of interesting people I can observe going about their lives is something I don’t think I can ever get tired of.  With this passion, as it always does for me, comes a deep desire to analyze and understand the process on a fundemental level.  This process of discover has lead me down an interesting path that I feel many in the communities I swim will find controversial; which is a shame because I do believe the conclusions I’ve come to are true and correct.

I lead my little rant with this preamble because I want anyone who ends up reading this to know that I’m not here out of malice or contempt for the artform.  Storytelling is my life and I feel that people’s good intentions may be hurting the craft as a whole.  If you do end up reading the whole thing feel absolutely feel to argue against me or whatever you want.  Having and breeding discussion is something else I live for!

On this journey I’ve had analyzing the storytelling craft I’ve come to the conclusion that there are things about storytelling that are good practices and bad practices.  I wholeheartedly reject the pervasive ideas in the art and writing community that there is not better or worse story and everything is just different.  Honestly I’m a bit insulted by the notion.  You should have pride in your craft and try to hold the quality of your work high!  If you feel your stories don’t reach that quality bar you’re looking for work to get better at what you do!  I don’t understand how someone could claim to, ‘strive to always be a better story teller’ while also believing stories have no intrinsic values outside of what an individual reader might feel about the work.  The only conclusion that can be came to is that stories do have intrinsic qualities within them that can be judged accordingly.

Of course this invites the idea that because people value different things their standards for what makes a good story would differ.  This is true but only on a scale of personal enjoyment.  I propose that there is a standard one can apply to their work outside of individual enjoyment that can be used to judge the quality of a work.

Much like in carpentry you’d judge the quality of a chair based on it’s materials, sturdiness, and mastery of the craft, you can also judge a story by a similiar metric.  Consistency is king when it comes to stories.  Rules not being broken is essential to not having stakes and payoffs fall flat.  Characters need to stay consistent to their ideals and goals if there is to be a character at all.  Goals and ideals can shift over the course of a story of course, but how well crafted a transition is entirely predicated on the consistency of the information we’re provided.  It would be poor storytelling to have a character randomly shift goals without some established impetus.  Storytelling quality is essentially how well one can juggle consistency with the complexity of the story they’re telling.  It seems perfectly reasonable if you had two stories that are equally consistent but one is more complex it would be a better work because they achieved more.

I can, and likely will at some point, go on for hours and hours and hours about how complex and intricate the craft of storytelling is.  Like I said it’s one of my biggest passions.  I think I’ll leave this little rant establishing my basic standard here though.  I hope it might spark some interesting discussions about the craft or at least give someone some food for though :)

[phladydoor]

Alright. Time to talk about my TIT experience.

This is not really about the show itself. This is about me and my health and the shit I had to do to get myself in that seat tonight.

TL;DR: I’m disabled and had to work extremely hard to be at the show and I’m proud of myself and I’m yappin about it!!!!

Okay now for the long-winded version.

When my friend grabbed us tickets back in June, I was just starting the process of addressing a mobility issue that had completely altered my life in recent years.

I have chronic back pain. It came on very suddenly and severely one day a little over two years ago now and it has been an uphill battle to receive the care I need ever since. I can walk only short distances and stand for only a few minutes before needing to sit and rest. It is debilitating and isolating and painful.

But still, I told my friend to get me a ticket. I had four months to prepare. I had faith in my brand new physical therapy team and spine doctor. Four months seemed like such a long time back then.

Things did not go as planned. Physical Therapy was overwhelming and difficult. I pushed myself to my limits, trying desperately to make it work. I blamed myself when I plateaued. The spine doctor said we should consider other options.

The first other option was a series of nerve ablations. The procedures would potentially reduce my pain level and allow me to return to physical therapy with better results. We started the process, but things moved slower than I’d hoped. Two weeks ago I was supposed to have my final test procedure before the real deal. My insurance denied it on a technicality. They will likely continue to deny it even upon appeal. I will have to return to my doctor to discuss the next other option.

So there I was. 14 days out from TIT and with my back barely better than it was when the tickets were purchased. I was facing down the very real possibility that I would not make it to the theatre. I spent a lot of time sobbing in therapy sessions, lamenting my limitations, and asking “why me?”

I talked to friends (there’s nothing better to alleviate a shame spiral) who encouraged me to look into mobility aids that could help me get to the show. I want to make it clear — never once have I judged another person for the use of a mobility aid. There is simply nothing worth judging about someone using a tool to make their life easier. But, when it came to accepting my own disability, I will admit that I had been resistant to the idea of using one. Not to get too in the weeds, but I’m in a larger body and the stigma associated with a fat person using a mobility aid vs a thin person? Is a very different beast.

But I did purchase one - a cane I could lean on that can also be transformed into a stool when I need to sit and rest.

I spent hours researching the venue — finding our seats via Google map and planning when and where I could take a rest on my cane/stool (my stane? My cool?). I would forgo the merch line. I’d have my friend drop me off at the wheelchair ramp before parking the car so I could get into the theatre without needing to take multiple flights of stairs.

Another fun little medical issue I deal with is chronic anemia, and let me tell you. I cannot recommend it. There is nothing quite like the wave of nausea that hits you when you’re desperately trying to catch your iron-poor, de-oxygenated breath. So I knew I would have to take things slow, and I checked in with my friend a week before to make sure they knew what support I might need.

I’m rambling now. I am, much like Dan, a catastrophic yapper. The point is I tried my very hardest to attend to every variable. I wanted to go to this tour so goddamn bad.

Going to see this show is the first thing I’ve done for myself in two years that isn’t about shouldering the burden of my condition all by myself. I have struggled with codependency in the past (what hasn’t this bitch struggled with, you ask yourself) and as such I spend a lot of time trying to be independent at the cost of… well… everything else. It’s a problem. I’m aware. I swung from codependency to refusing to ask for help even when it’s reasonable.

But that’s what this night had to be all about — leaning on friends. I had to communicate my needs. I had to put my health and my joy first. I had to push past the shame of existing in my current body.

And I did. I fucking did it.

I’m so sore and my back hurts and on the way out I did very nearly puke from the anxiety and the aforementioned anemia nausea. But it doesn’t matter. Because I used my little cane and took the space I needed and utilized my support system and I watched two gay idiots be so gay and such idiots on stage for multiple hours and I had fun!!!!!! And I did it for myself!!!!

I doubt myself frequently and often automatically. I grew up in a family who made me feel incapable of doing anything right. I was infantilized and dismissed and ignored. And tonight I was the person little me needed me to be. Tonight I fucking did it. I am so proud of myself and so happy I pushed through all this bullshit to see those gay men dance.

[margridarnauds]

Hi! I have loved Toho Elisabeth since May, and I want to find other musicals they’ve adapted and done but I have no idea where to find them, aside from a version of Phantom I found on Bilibili. Any help would be MUCH appreciated!

Hi!

So, first of all, my apologies for the length of time to reply -- I've been busy dealing with professional things the whole month and can only now be a human being. In relation to that...for the last three or so years, I haven't been able to follow Toho musicals like I wish I could. It's a shame, but. Well. Grad student. (As well as various developments in terms of my personal life and Toho that have made me a little less likely to follow it.)

I'll take this in three parts -- First of all, the adaptations I personally recommend, second, how to keep up to date on announcements (which I'm woefully behind on, do as I say, not as I do), and third, how to get ahold of them once you've found the musical of your dreams.

(Some) Recommendations

Romeo and Juliet (ミュージカル 「ロミオとジュリエット」)

The myth, the legend. One of the most legendary French original musicals, translated to Japanese for the purposes of the wildly successful Takarazuka production (which has had like. A *ton* of productions. I'm not inclined to do the research on how many, because this is the Quick and Dirty Guide, not the research paper, but there have been a Lot) and then totally reinterpreted for the Toho stage, including staging it in a post-apocalyptic setting and updating and expanding the libretto to fit that setting. (#1 way to piss off a Toho Romeo and Juliet fan? Say that it's just like the Zuka.) I personally recommend the 2019 production, specifically Black Cast with Furukawa Yuta, but you can form your own preferences.

Lady Bess (ミュージカル「レディ・ベス」)

If you came for Kunze and Levay, there's nothing better than...MORE Kunze and Levay. This was my very first Toho musical, I got the DVD back in....2018, God, that was five years ago. ANYWAY. It tells the story of a Young Elizabeth I of England and her struggle to survive under her sister's rule while contending with her mother's complex legacy while embarking on a youthful romance with the spirited poet, Robin Blake. While I do have some issues with the libretto, the music is strong and the production is gorgeous. If you can only get one, get the Star Cast with Aya Hirano and Kazuki Kato.

1789, Les Amants de La Bastille (ミュージカル 「1789 - バスティーユの恋人たち」)

If you know me, this musical doesn't need an introduction. It's changed my life. The Toho production in particular. It's quite bittersweet from where I'm standing now, for various reasons, including the tragic death of Sayaka Kanda, who was the lead actress for one of the casts, which...God, we're almost approaching the anniversary...but the fact remains that it was a gorgeous production, the music is gorgeous, and, plot-wise, it probably did the best job of exploring the characters and the nuances of the plot of any of the productions, including the French, and it perfectly suited the darker style usually associated with Toho musicals. I love both casts and recommend them, but of the two, I personally recommend the d'Espoir cast, which had Teppei Koike and Sayaka Kanda, not just out of pity, but because they were were both exceptional in the roles.)

Marie Antoinette (ミュージカル 「マリー・アントワネット」)

While I would say that Lady Bess introduced me to Toho and 1789 cemented my love for it, Marie Antoinette...defines it for me. It's probably my favorite Toho musical of all time. It would require a long, long rant to discuss everything I love about it, but to put it simply: It's a gorgeous production, you got some of the best actors currently working on the Japanese stage together to give some of the best acting of their careers, and the music is great. The dynamics between the various characters -- Margrid and Antoinette, Margrid and Orléans, Orléans and Antoinette, Antoinette and Fersen, Antoinette and Louis -- are some of my favorite in any musical I've seen, not just limited to Toho musicals, and the little bit of sexism that usually seems to follow Kunze and Levay's stuff...I don't want to say it's GONE, but I think that the fact that the female characters behave like people -- sometimes flawed people -- bumps it up a couple of notches, so if you like Elisabeth and you like its style...it's not a guarantee, since MA doesn't lean on the gothic tradition as much as Elisabeth, but you will PROBABLY like it. I personally recommend the A Cast with Sonim, Furukawa Yuta, and Rena Sasamoto.

This is, imo, a good starter pack -- there are other Toho musicals out there, but these are the ones that I recommend to capture some of the range of what Toho can do as a company and to introduce you to some of the best of the best on stage.

Now, Part 2:

2. R's Quick and Dirty Guide to Toho Musicals and How To Get Into Them (if you need links, let me know):

First of all: Follow the official Toho Channel on Youtube + Twitter. This is your best guide for keeping up to date on which projects they're working on. Also follow Umeda Arts while you're at it, and since there's a not-insignificant overlap between Horipro's business and Toho's, follow THEM as well. This will also keep you up to date on things like DVD + BluRay releases, since they tend to announce them on Twitter + Youtube.

Follow some of the stars on Instagram! Japanese celebrities tend to be very much into Instagram (okay, so are American celebrities) -- this is your best bet at following which projects they're working on. Since you mentioned Elisabeth, for example, Furukawa Yuta maintains an active Instagram presence *and* is an immensely bankable star. Likewise for Manaki Reika, Hanafusa Mari, etc., and they often will take pictures of musicals they're attending, or stars they're working with, so you can hopefully get a web of stars constantly posting updates about new projects.

And for the grand finale....

3. Getting ahold of them.

I recommend using a proxy if you're not in Japan. Do NOT, for the LOVE OF GOD, go for Ebay prices -- with how low the yen currently is, just about anything you pick up on Ebay is either going to be highway robbery or something you could get for the same price using a proxy. I use two services -- Buyee for when I want to do a broad search of everything on the Japanese market for something I can buy myself, MyFavoriteThingsJapan for when the thing that I want requires a little bit more...negotiation. (I am very aware that the way I just phrased that makes it sound like I have a personal hitman I use to get ahold of Japanese theatre merch.) (Not yet.) Sometimes, you will find items, DVDs, BluRays, CDs, etc. that Buyee doesn't cover. And, in those instances, if you don't speak Japanese, it's to your benefit to have someone who can negotiate on your behalf with the buyer. It's a little bit more costly, but worth it. Japanese theatre is frustrating to be in, because, unlike, say, VBW for German language musicals, the Japanese industry has never seen the need to overly cater to its international fans (though this has been improving with, say, Takarazuka.) Western...or even non-Japanese Toho fans are an exception, not a rule. So, we have to be a little bit more creative. That being SAID, there are so many proxy services available now VS even five years ago, and the price of the yen is still so low compared to where it was, that it has never been easier to buy these things. (And, in some ways, it's easier than, say, getting ahold of specialized French merchandise. Or, God help us all, Hungarian.)

You'll notice I'm not making any suggestions of websites to find these things -- due to how oppressively underpaid Japanese theatre stars often are (with a couple of exceptions at the very top of the industry), there is, traditionally, a very strong taboo around sharing websites that you can get ahold of these things for free. Japanese theatre fans are often stereotyped as being incredibly parasocial with their stars of choice -- there's absolutely truth to this and there are a number of cultural factors why this is the case, even among western fans (though, frankly, as someone who survived the Tveitpocalypse, I wonder whether we really want to argue that that's unique to Japanese or Korean theatre), but at least part of it is that, frankly, the fans often protect the stars better than their own companies do (the Japanese theatre industry is...an industry. Mix some of the worst of Japanese work culture with already-crushing expectations of the theatre industry and BANG you have the Japanese musical theatre industry in a nutshell, at least among the major companies). There's a feeling of protectiveness, in other words. My relationship with that taboo is a long and complicated one that's gone through many phases over the years -- at the moment, I'm, frankly, too tired to actively scold anyone for it, especially given how much hypocrisy often surrounds that taboo, but I'm still not willing to publicly share that information or to share my own personal links. You know one that you can find material on -- I also know that you can find things on archive.org and VK. I won't point you to them directly, but they exist, even if there are, in general, fewer Toho musicals posted to both than, say, Takarazuka, and I know that @emptymasks has compiled a list of both Takarazuka and Toho Elisabeth productions here. Beyond that, I can also stream any of the aforementioned musicals, so long as you give me a little time to plan since my schedule is really, thoroughly, not what it used to be.

[goodstimoftheday]

Please only read if you feel in a safe place to do so

Under the cut discusses suicidal thoughts, food restriction and abuse

Summary is: I hope I can come back to posting one day, but I'll have to be in a much different place and it will take a lot to get to that other place

I've always been what someone would call a melancholy person, it's a well told tale in my family that at the age of six I was in the room when a news report about depression came on and I asked my parents if I had that. It is also a well told tale that I'd first said I wanted to die at age four. An event that apparently put my mum on antidepressants from the shock and sorrow that her young child would say that but I didn't get help until I was seven. I was informally diagnosed as on the autistic spectrum at nine and formally diagnosed at 10 with mild autism after I failed the IQ test that determined whether you had asperger's as this was before it was a defunct diagnosis. I still remember the disappointment that hung in the air in the psychologists room. I was clever, but not clever enough. They then said I was too young to diagnose as depressed, and with time and The Book I would adapt to the world and no longer be depressed by it. And with that diagnosis and The Book, me and my parents were cut adrift to 'deal' with my mind.

The Book was a horrible thing that explained how to cope with autistic traits and train them out of your child. It wouldn't be until I was 19 that I found and read The Book for myself and recognised all the ways my parents had hurt me had come from this very book.

I never did get less depressed and I still never got diagnosed, therapists telling me everyone has depressive symptoms these days.

My mum has never had a good body image, in truth she should have probably been diagnosed with dysmorphia long ago but she refuses to go to the doctors about it, instead wallowing in the cruel world of diets that insist she just has no willpower. But somewhere in her mind she is angry and used that anger like a knife to carve me into her idea of perfection. I remember well at age five finding a key ring from weightwatchers that was fun to play with and she told me one day I'd have to go there because I had her genes. But as my autistic tongue refused more foods and I became old enough to fight back from being pinned down to my chair and force fed, and instead left hungry, because that way I would learn to be grateful for my food, it was clear I was very thin. And my mum loved this. She dressed me in all the clothes she wished she could have worn as a child and told me as my sensory issues begged her not to put the itchy sparkly tights on me again and my dim first pangs of gender dysphoria screamed as she said to do things ladylike.

Unlike some, when I reach the crushing depths of depression, I find no comfort in food. My mouth goes dry and so all I eat feels like sand and sawdust and tastes much the same. My mum loved this, though she would never admit to it consciously. As I got older and bought my own food at school or on days out, my body would plump up and I seemed to be less interesting to my mum but then the depression depths would pull me down again and I would shed weight and all of a sudden I would be beautiful, clever and deserving of presents at random because I 'was special'.

At eighteen I met someone who would become my partner for three and a half years. Some of you from my old blog would remember them. I loved them and parts of me, much to my shame, still do.

I most likely have OSDD. But for whatever reason the NHS doesn't like to diagnose this. In the course of my therapy I have taken the dissociative quotient about three times with very consistent scores that lay between that of C-PTSD and DID. So rather than diagnosing me with the disorder that sits between those two disorders, OSDD, I've been diagnosed with C-PTSD with extreme depersonalisation.

The first person to recognise this with in me was my first ever partner and whether consciously or unconsciously, they used my dissociative symptoms against me. It's hard to type but I was abused by them. I loved them, still love them sometimes, so much. I would have given them the world but they hurt me and then threw me away like I was nothing when they found someone younger and in the same country. I won't say what they did to me, only my closest friends and my therapist know, and I wish to keep it that way. It was a quiet abuse and with my dissociation that I couldn't recognise, I couldn't see the hurt until around six months after they left me.

So in the time my dissociation painted the world as bright and sunny, the parts experiencing the abuse locked away from my knowledge, I gained a lot of weight. I was an adult now, free to choose my own meals. I actually love being fat, I felt warm and happy and my body was so lovely to stim with. That's something that makes my heart sing about Aziraphale, from Good Omens, he enjoys food and I can really empathise with feeling like he's doing something wrong when people point out his enjoyment.

But my mum didn't like that, not one bit. I became the family disappointment. 'Weight problems' were discussed like a family curse. And I was uplifted as the exception, like I was there to break that curse. But my body after years of being under fed clung to the happiness of eating food I liked and showed it in my body.

After my partner left me I fell into a deep deep depression. They had hurt me in a way and used my brain in such a way that I felt like air had been taken from me. I felt like was going to die. I wanted to die. They told me I would die without them. I lost a lot of weight very very quickly and my mum was so happy, she could barely disguise it as she attempted to comfort me about the hurt my ex had done to me as I slowly realised it.

She finally bought me a new binder after using the same one for over a year, new trousers and other things. I was interesting again.

I got with another person, far too soon. He was sweet but also out of his depth with the trauma I was only just realising I had. I broke up with him after seven months, something he didn't understand at all and I felt so guilty, I felt like my abuser. But unlike my abuser I tried to remain friends, I knew how strong love could be and tearing it up was too much I knew. But in those seven months, I regained a little weight. My parents, both of them now, didn't like this.

So began now, the months of teetering on the edge of starvation. Some days I have only a snack to get me by, other's I'm allowed two hot meals. Without a job and disability benefit since 19, I have had to just resort to here. But this weird food restriction that is there some days and then gone the next has really taken a toll on my mind. I've been in this position since September 2021. Two years now of this. My dissociation is worse, my depression is worse. I don't feel real most days. And still I have flashbacks to my ex and early childhood on top of this. I don't know what to do.

That person around April and May I was talking about? I wanted to be boyfriends with him so badly but my parents made me stop dating him as I'd already put on five pounds. He was so sweet and I had to lie to him and say I didn't see the relationship going anywhere as my mum stood over me to text him. I'm fucking 25 and I can't date a guy because he keeps me happy and plump. My mum hates fat so much that I can't even explore a relationship with a guy beyond a couple of months anymore because it makes me too happy for her liking. Because with my body happiness is being fat.

I'm saying all this because I don't know how to carry on here on this blog. I try so hard to see the good in every day but I'm living with those scary deep sea creatures at the moment. I feel like very soon I'll have forgotten what the light looks like.

[silvaswiftcast]

Bolt

Characters: Silva Cataracta, Ricmorn Cataracta, and some long lost family of Silva's

Rating: General

Notes: Old FFxivWrite Prompt from 2022 that's been cleaned up a little! The unedited version and the collection for this challenge on my AO3 are linked in my profile! This scene takes place at the start of Endwalker in Thavnair/Radz-at-Han. Though I did my best to be as vague as possible, there may be potential spoilers here for those who haven't started Endwalker yet!

Content Warnings/Additional Tags: Mentions/Discussions of Original Character(s) Death(s), Family Abandonment, Mentions of Negative Personal Reflections

Silva couldn't help the gasp that left her as she wandered into Ruveydah Fibers during her curious exploration of Radz-at-Han. Her wide sea-green eyes took in the sights of the large room, watching the expert weavers work at the large looms and create sheets of Thavnairian silk. Thick, multi-colored bolts of the same delicate fabric lay scattered about the room. Some rolled out on tables to be crafted into dancer outfits or rested in wooden bins to be worked on later.

"This is incredible!" she gushed, taking a few more steps until she stood in front of a table with red, yellow, and blue bundles of the dyed textile resting on top. "And I thought my personal collection of fabrics back in Ul'dah was impressive. Needless to say, I am humbled. I wonder if I can buy a few bolts for myself here or if we need to head back to the markets and find a vendor."

A deep, rumbling chuckle from behind her caused the Auri woman to turn around and catch Ricmorn shaking his head at her child-like excitement. "Don't get too carried away, Silv," the tall Rean teased, another round of laughter leaving him when she rolled her eyes at him. "We are here for our Warrior of Light duties, after all. There is still much to this place we should acquaint ourselves with during our stay."

Though he enjoyed seeing her not worried about the burdens of their job, her pretty eyes were wide and shiny in awe and trying to soak everything in, even if it was just for a few bells. The sage knew how important it was for her to take her time to see everything around her and stop random citizens, politely asking them to spare a minute or two to answer her inquiries.

This place was a part of her. It wasn't just Doman blood that flowed through her veins, but the blood of Thavnair, too.

She dismissed her husband with a wave, tossing a wide grin his way as her long tail swished from side to side. "Yes, yes — I know. But we have some time to spare, my dear!" she exclaimed, resting a hand on her hip and making the steel chakrams at her waist jingle. "We are still waiting for the rest of our Scion companions to arrive, and from what Thancred said, it'll be a few days before they do so."

The dancer turned back to face the table, running her fingertips against the soft, smooth silk. A myriad of emotions rose within her as she traced along the gold diamond pattern weaved into the rich red fabric. "Besides…" she murmured, her voice soft with a hint of sadness. "There's so much history here for me to discover — to learn about myself."

And who knew when she would have another chance to roam around Radz-at-Han with the world going to shit?

How many dancers have graced these halls, bearing these very same silks? From what families and how many generations?

Her mother came from Thavnair — born right here, in the capital where the Cataracta family still inhabited to this day. A family a small part of her still yearned to know, yet it was a family that had wanted nothing to do with her since the death of her mother fifteen years ago.

Fifteen years of confusion, anger, self-doubt, and shame. Only for Silva to finally let it all go, finding absolution from the chains she had bound herself in with the help of those close to her.

She didn't need them, anyway. She had found a new family who embraced her for who she was and loved her. Deep down, she considered it a blessing that she had yet to run into anyone else who carried the same eye color as her.

It was only a matter of time before she faced an awkward, uncomfortable confrontation with a possible family member while she, her husband, and their Scion companions were in Thavnair. A moment she was dreading to the core.

The Raen's gaze looked towards a young Hyuran dancer who was being tended to by one of the many weavers in the room. Being a fellow weaver herself, the Warrior of Light knew they were in the middle of a fitting for new dancer garb. The light blue silk complimented the girl's complexion and looked beautiful on her. Judging by the happy giggles ringing out, followed by a sigh of relief that bounced around in her ivory horns, the girl was pleased with the results and the talented crafter was glad to know their customer approved of their work.

Silva couldn't help but wonder if her mother had come here often to be measured by the weavers to be dressed in special clothing as she trained as a dancer. What color were the ultimate designs? Did she wear long skirts that bellowed out around her during fast twirls or fitted shorts with longcoats that trailed behind her?

Whatever it was, she bet that her mother looked stunning, and even more so when she put on a performance.

Oh, how she missed her…

"Hey…"

She jumped a little when she felt someone's hand gently rest on her shoulder and turned behind her to find Ricmorn standing just behind her. His sky-blue eyes filled with concern while he gazed down at her, a feeling of worry flashing through their soul bond.

"Are you okay, Silv?" he asked her. "Do you want to take a break and return to our room at the inn for a while?"

A small smile lit up her face as she reached up to cover his large hand with one of her much smaller ones. "A sweetheart as always," she murmured, rubbing her thumb against the beige scales decorating the back of his palm. "But no, I’m alright — I promise. Just… I just miss Mama, and I can't help but think about her while we're here."

He returned his wife's smile with one of his own before leaning down to kiss the top of her head, feeling a little more at ease when his horns picked up the soft, pleased hum rumbling in her throat. "I believe her spirit is glad you are finally exploring the other half of your heritage, even if she is not here to guide you in person."

Silva couldn't help the snort that left her, light laughter leaving her when the sage raised a single eyebrow in confusion. "I'm sure that she is. I'm also sure that she's pissed my uncle isn't here to show us around since it was his idea originally to do it."

It was his turn to laugh, his shoulders and chest shaking from the force of it. "Ah. Well, that's Kisan's problem."

"It certainly is."

"Pardon me, miss, but is there something that I can help you with?"

The Raen turned around to see a short, Auri woman standing before them, her curious pink-hued eyes and bright limbal rings flickering between them. Silva offered her a kind smile, figuring she could ask what she wondered about when she had first walked into the room.

"Oh! Actually, yes. I was wondering if I could purchase a few bolts of—"

"Your eyes! You are a Cataracta!" the weaver gasped, taking a small step back at the realization.

Well, shit.

A wave of uneasiness washed over her. The smile she wore faltered as her tail flicked about anxiously behind her. "Y-yes I am," she stuttered out, "b-but—"

"You are one that I haven't seen before, and I've met many members of that family during my years here," the older Au Ra mused aloud. Her head tilted to the side as she tapped a finger against her chin. "Though you look quite familiar now that I'm getting a good look at you…"

That dancer audibly swallowed, unsure what to say as she stood there, frozen. Gods and kami, help her.

Unfortunately, only more jumbled-up words tumbled from her mouth. "I u-um… well, you see—"

"And here I thought you would recognize Chandria's only daughter and Kisan's niece, Mama."

Silva turned to see a tan-skinned Auri man walking toward them. His lips lifted into a caring smile, and his dark purple eyes filled with comforting warmth. He appeared to be around her uncle's age. Strangely enough, she could have sworn she'd seen him before. But from where? When? She couldn't recall that information at the moment.

"You're… you're Silva," the elderly weaver wondered in awe. "No wonder you looked familiar — my, you look almost exactly like your mother! And a dancer, too, I see! We always knew you would follow in her footsteps."

"I— Yes, I am Silva Cataracta, and Chandria was indeed my mother," she confirmed, shifting her gaze down to the tiled floor beneath her foot. "The black sheep of the Cataracta family, the unwanted—"

She jumped, startled to hear several growls from the three Au Ra surrounding her. Ricmorn was the loudest out of the group, followed by the other strange man and the woman.

"Unwanted couldn't be further from the truth, my dear, and you know that," she heard her husband say, letting him pull her close. “You are more loved than you think.”

"Your husband is right," agreed the other Auri man wholeheartedly. "We will always welcome you here, and you have more friends and allies in Radz-at-Han than you realize just yet."

He turned to regard the shocked sage, holding his hand out for him to take should he wish. "Ricmorn, right? Forgive me, my name is Arit. It's wonderful to finally meet you properly instead of relying on Kisan's letters and linkpearl calls."

Ricmorn took the offered hand into his own, giving it a firm squeeze. "Aye, that is me. You know Silva's uncle?"

"I do! He and I go way back, and he's asked me to keep an eye on both of you when I can while you're in Thavnair."

Arit… Arit…

That name rang a bell in the Raen's mind. She raked through her mind, trying to figure out the mystery as the two men engaged in conversation. Think, Silva, think! You kill gods and save the world for a living and you somehow can't recall a person for once?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize Arit had knelt before her until he cleared his throat a few times. Confused sea-green eyes met dark purple ones swimming with amusement as they stared at one another for several moments.

"You scrunch your face up like your mother did when she was deep in thought," he quipped. A bright laugh left him when she snorted at his remark. "What's on your mind, Silva? If you have questions, no matter what they may be, you are more than welcome to ask, and I will do my best to answer them."

"I know you, don't I?" she asked him finally, giving up on trying to figure it out by herself. Her cheeks flushed a light lilac when he nodded his head. "I-I'm sorry. I can't seem to—"

"It's alright," he promised her, hoping that she could pick up the understanding in his voice. "The last time we were together was when you had just turned five — so little and wide-eyed. If that helps any, and if not, I would be happy to tell you."

"Back when I lived in Doma…"

And then Silva remembered at last.

Tears instantly filled her eyes, her hand flying to cover her mouth as a quiet sob bubbled up from her chest. "You're my other uncle! You're married to Kisan!"

"And my husband was worried that our dear niece wouldn't be able to recognize me after all these years apart. I knew you would, though. We have so much to discuss if you and Ricmorn have the time to spare."

And turn down the chance of a lifetime to discover more about herself? Her family and the connections she has in Thavnair? To know more about her mother and the life she had here?

Never.

“Please,” she sniffled, wiping away the tears running down her cheeks, “I would love nothing more.”

[currentfandomkick]

I raise you, trans!danny who vaguely remembers the whole process of giving birth by ghost standards. the cores formed attached to Danny’s and split off. Their bodies having mixed DNA was Desiree’s twist. Danny is unaware of this, only that his kids are HIS. And he needs to keep them safe. So some semi-feral danny.

Danny woke up disoriented. He tugged on his core’s bonds. His friends were in the Infinite Realms, but closer than before. Jazz was with them. Dan was still by Clockwork, but Danny wasn’t sure if he was in a thermos or not.

Ellie is still in their home dimension.

His kids are nearby.

So are two other ectobeings. Who might eat their cores. Fuck.

Danny snaps awake.

An ill, weak wraith-revnant is holding his son. His infant, cotton-candy-in-water fragile son.

His daughter is in the hands of someone touched by too much death but still not liminal. The same man who asked for his DNA.

Danny gave up on subtle.

/his babies are in danger. He will destroy danger. Protectprotectprotect./

The wraith turned and alerted the others.

Danny noted WiRes and Cuthurtpain tools.

Lab.

Dangerdangerdanger.

His form shifted. Nebulas burst on his skin. His hair turned to stardust and floated around him. His eyes burned greengreengreen.

no one in the room moved.

Danny pounced, grabbing his children while clones split off. The DangerChildThievesEctoEaters moved and were speaking but it was all white noise.

Danny held his babies close. His form shifted human again, but the clones didn’t.

The baby vampire snarled at them.

“Pit demon!”

Danny leveled that one a look. Younger than his oldest.

“Halfa.”

His clones didn’t want to be recalled.

He felt his kidnappers emotions. Shame on the vampire, confusion rippling throughout, confusion on the one who started this. The blonde woman kept her eyes on him and his children.

“No one touches my children.” If his fangs came out and he hissed? He didn’t care.

They laid hands on his babies.

Hostiles. Unsafe. Leaveleaveleave.

“They’re mine too!” Danny squinted at the one who asked for DNA.

A clone possessed their computer.

“Truth,” the clone whispered in his head before eating data files.

“No.” Danny kept his kids close. “Mine.”

His son shifted, hair bright white while his daughter’s hair shifted into a nebula like his skin.

Danny sensed Dan breaching the dimension.

“Baby brother,” Dan greeted, eyeing his clones systematic destruction and continuing to hold his kidnappers hostage.

“Dan.”

“Grandfather found out what happened. He’s agreed to open the Long Now until you settle.”

Danny glared at Dan. “I do not need babysitting.”

Dan looked about. Few things were intact.

“No. But you did give birth only two days ago”

That sent off a round of panic worry concern in the room.

“And your core is in danger of cracking. So, ifs Long Now or Far Frozen. And we both know the yeti will be insufferable when you try to take your kids back.”

Danny growled at the thought. Hishishis.

“So, why don’t we go to Grandfather’s and you and my nobblings can cool off there. Their cores need more ectoplasm, and i can feel how little you’ve kept for yourself, let alone eaten.”

Danny growled at Dan, but his head was starting to hurt.

Things got dark.

“Got you little brother.”

—

Dan raised an eyebrow at the heroes of this city.

“The crown prince of the infinite realms is keeping his heirs. If you want to argue to meet them later, discuss it with your world’s John Constantine. Afterall, he’s bound for thrallhood in service to Pariah Dark or any of the former king’s heirs.”

The man left, taking Danny and the (apparently?!?) newborns with him.

The clones vanished with him.

A man in a purple cloak appeared for a moment only to chuckle and fix the damage.

“I suggest not kidnapping my apprentice in the future. This was rather tame of him—though good luck finding what he ate of your data—post pregnancy cravings can be so odd.”

So add on from here as you please

Taglist (idk if i missed anyone feel free to @)

* @starmee-lodurrson is not tagging on my dash for some reason, if someone can, please tag them

@yjfk

@dulceringo

@09shell-sea09

@skulld3mort-1fan

@dannyphantomphan

@screamingtofillthevoid

@lovingempress

@plushbookworm

@somanyfanficssolittletime

Bruce Wayne is used to ransom calls. They happen often enough despite his children's training, though it doesn't help that they sometimes purposely get themselves captured to later mock the kidnappers but he digressed.

This call was different. "We have Tim Drakes children" what did that even mean? Did they kidnap some random infants with black wisps of hair and blue eyes and just hope that Tim miiight have had a night of indiscretion in the last year or so to be concerned about?

Spoiler was the first on scene, actively teasing Red Robin about the whole fiasco. He swears they couldn't possibly be his and this had to be a scam of some kind. They had been assessing the situation from the rafters of the warehouse when another guy who looked like prime Batman Adoption Bait stormed the place and beat the crap out of the guys before zooming over to the infants.

The pair nodded at eachother and leaped down from the rafters and landed behind the man. He whirled around, holding the kids protectively to his chest, careful to support thier heads.

They asked him to confirm if he's the father which he did so readily. Red Robin got a wierd feeling though and asked to get a swab for testing, just to be sure.

The guy refused. That wasn't overly suspicious but the defensive way he acted was. Were these not his children? The bats chose to try a different tactic and asked him to wait for the police to arrive so they could confirm he was the twins father.

He ran.

Danny was having one of the worst days of his afterlife, and trust him, he's had some rough days. Being chased through Gotham at night by its local terrifying vigilantes while trying not to drop or harm the babies was hard, especially since he was trying to hide his powers. But really, what was he supposed to do?

He can't exactly just say "a ghost with genie powers overheard my mom wish for grandbabies from me and granted that wish but screwed us by making the other half of the babies DNA that of some random rich guy from another reality?" Cause thats going to go over soooo well.

Why do they care so much anyway? He doubts they're going to make the guy pay child support, not that Danny needs it. Then again its probably better to stay in this world where no one knows who he is and his children are safer...from his parents OSHA violations if nothing else.

Vlad couldn't enter this universe cause he couldn't get past the "source wall" whatever that was, but Danny and his babies had no problems so meh.

The bats had him cornered and hiding invisibly inside an abandoned arcade (why were so many places in this city abandoned???) the bats kept combing through the place looking for him. He knew they were about ready to give up looking for him when one of the babies sneezed.

The next thing he knew the littlest bat, Robin was right next to him, "Found you." Then he was knocked out.

[heliarosewrites]

Chapter 2 - Proposal

A couple of hours had passed before Odin returned. He had gone after his boys when he, alongside his council, had figured out what the princes and their companions were up to. Meanwhile, you had been shown to your new room by a servant girl. You felt slightly sorry for her and did not like that she called you ‘ma'am’. But telling her otherwise could insult her so you let her do her work properly. The room was bigger than the small one Loki had mended your dress in. Here you even had your own bath, and books upon books filled the shelves that covered the walls. The room had a personality which was quite the opposite of what you had gotten in the first place. The girl had left you alone once you had no more questions for her. 

The closet contained a mix of your own clothes (which wasn’t much considering you had packed for three days), and new beautiful gowns hung in the closet. It almost felt as if you had been sucked into one of the romance novels you had read long ago. Well, not really. The prince in this story wouldn't fall for you. He had just been kind. You were just young and foolish to even consider he would give you any thought at all. 

As your fingers graced over the fabric of the dresses you could see light blitzing outside your window as if lightning struck over and over again at the same spot. Outside the window you could see the Bifrost opening again. A huff escaped you and you had a bad feeling. 

You walked out into the hallway and it didn't take you long to find the queen. She was fiddling nervously with her hands as she watched the bridge from the stairs leading down from the castle gates. You came to stand a few metres behind her. “The foolish boys. Doesn´t understand the boundaries between games and war” she said before she turned her head to you. She gave you a small smile, but you could tell she was distressed. “I hope you can change that'' she said before she turned her head back and watched as the flock of men came closer. She started walking down the stairs and you followed her.

Odin smiled as he approached his wife. Behind him followed Loki and the other warriors, but Thor was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had run off?

“Frigga, come with me” Odin said as he offered her his arm. “We have matters to discuss,” he added. His eye found you and you quickly bowed your head. However, he bowed when he saw you standing there as well. “Good night to you, y/n” he said. “You too, my king” you answered as you raised your head. He gave you a short smile, but something clearly bothered him. 

Your eyes followed them as they entered the castle and disappeared. 

Loki said nothing and his eyes were fixed at the ground. The other warriors around left without acknowledging you. Of course, they did, they had no idea who you were or why you were there. The shame on their faces didn’t seem to fade as they walked off. The only one even looking at you was the woman amongst them. She looked more angry than shameful. 

Loki was still staring at the ground. You stood still. Did he even know you were standing there? Probably not. He looked as though he was thinking hard. You could almost hear the wheels inside his head churning. 

“Loki...” you said in a whisper as you took a step closer to him. He stepped back and his head was still tilted, and his eyes fixed on the stones on the ground. His jaw tensed. “Loki. What’s wrong?” you asked. “Nothing’s wrong,” he answered calmly.

“Don’t lie to me, please” you said and took another step closer. His eyes blinked slowly, and you could see that tears were threatening to spill over at any moment. “Oh, Loki…” you said as your eyes widened and your chest aches slightly. You were about to lift your arms and embrace him. He felt like a friend to you. He needed comfort, but what stopped you was how he had reacted when you had hugged him earlier. You took another step closer though, but you stopped as he flinched slightly. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, little one” he said before he walked straight past you and walked up the stairs. His scent waved over you making drift off for a second before you turned on your heel. You followed the man who seemed to be walking in the direction of your new chambers. 

As you caught up to him, he quickened his pace. 

“Loki” you started. Your breath started to get heavy. You lifted your skirts slightly so you wouldn't trip. He didn’t answer and you kept on following him. 

He stopped and so did you. He looked at you and you felt incredibly small for a second. His eyes darted between yours and you couldn't help but wanting him to touch you. You bit your lip slightly before your eyes moved away from him. He didn't want this. He didn't want you here right now. “I´m sorry, I´ll go” you started but yelped as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a dark room. He pinned you against the wall. You felt the cold press through your dress as well as his breath against your lips. Your noses were almost touching, and you could see some light reflecting from his eyes. The tears were gone, but you sensed his mood hadn’t necessarily changed. You swallowed. You had never been this close to a person before, let alone a man. 

“Loki, what's wrong?” you whispered. “Loki, please tell me wha-” you started but were broken off by him pressing his lips against yours. You were taken aback and pulled slightly backwards into the wall. Loki however, followed your movement and after a second you melted into the kiss. He pulled you closer with one arm that snuck around your waist separating you from the cold wall. The other hand cupped your cheek. Your hand went to the nape of his neck while the other were stuck between your bodies. His arms travelled down your sides while he dragged the light fabric upwards. With a jolt he grabbed your thighs and jerked you upwards. Your dress was light and slid up to your waist. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he held you against the cool stone wall. Your mind spun and your skin tightened. 

Heat pooled from your lower abdomen and further down. It wasn´t an unfamiliar sensation, but it had never been as strong as it was now. His lips never left yours. You bucked slightly against him. He let out a slight groan into your mouth. And then he let go of you and backed away as if nothing had happened. Or as if he regretted what he had just done… As your feet hit the floor you stumbled slightly. Your hair fell loose over your shoulders from its braid. 

Your stomach dropped as your mind became clear again. What had you just done? Snogging the Prince like that… No, he must think less of you… You had closed your eyes, hoping you would open them and wake up in your bed, back home, where everything was safe. A place you wouldn’t give yourself so easily to a complete stranger. Because that was what the prince was. A stranger. “Do you regret it?” Loki asked before you had a chance to say something. You opened your eyes. Loki was smirking, and you could have sworn you saw his shoulder glimmer as he moved. He stood much closer to you, closer than you had anticipated. His hand reached up and brushed a strand of your hair that covered parts of your face behind your ear. If he regretted his action this was a strange way to act. You didn’t answer. Your eyes only darted between his. You noticed the green specks in his blue irises. And the longer he stared at you, you could feel the heat burning even hotter. You cursed yourself for it. His eyes shot downwards before he closed them. 

You lifted your hand. Wanting to comfort him by cupping his face. But before your hand touched his skin, he grabbed your wrist and instantly a burning pain shot from where he touched you. You shrieked as you fell to your knees. “Loki. You’re hurting me” you said as controlled as you could. He didn’t react. His eyes were fixed on his hand around your wrist. “Loki!” you shouted. His eyes went from your arm to your eyes, and he let go of you. The arm fell into your lap. 

Tears pressed on the brim of your eyes as the pain wouldn’t stop. You pressed your eyes shut trying to push them back, but to no help. You opened your eyes again and looked down. The skin on your arm was black and covered in blisters where he had laid his hands upon you. Blood started to drip down onto the floor, and you felt yourself getting dizzy as you tasted iron. Loki bent down beside you. He tried to reach for your arm, but you instinctively pulled it back and the burning got even worse. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” he started. You could not hear his words over the ringing you heard in your ears, but you tried to read his lips. Your eyes slowly found his blue irises. They were filled with worry and looked genuine for once. You couldn’t really feel your arm anymore, it was just pain. Unbearable pain. Your vision was getting blurry, and you only saw figures flickering in front of you. 

He grabbed your arm once more and this time you let him take it. He could chop it off if he wanted to. Green light flashed and you were afraid your arm had left with the pain. Who would want a one-armed wife? You thought as you grabbed it with your other arm. Thank the Norns, it was still there. It was a silly thought. Why would you think of that now? You felt as though you could easily have died, and yet your thoughts were on getting married…

“I need to lie down” you muttered, or at least tried to as you felt the dizziness getting worse. Someone lifted you off the ground and you drifted off. 

☾

*Loki’s POV*

Her skin was warm under his grip. She fell to her knees, but Loki didn’t let go. Why didn’t he? Clearly, she was in severe pain. But his hand was locked around her wrist. Her skin bubbled and turned dark as his hand turned blue. His palm was getting wet. He didn't know what he was doing. 

“Loki!” the scream tore into his head. His eyes shot from his hand to her y/e/c eyes. He let go and watched as she curled in on herself. Tears were streaming down her face and Loki’s heart dropped. He had waited for her for so long, and now he had realised he could never have her. Never be with her the way he wanted to. He had ruined his opportunity in mere seconds. First, he had forced himself on her like that, then he had let his desperation out. Let the monster out. 

He would live forever as a monster in her head. 

He bent down. “I am so sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you. I can fix this... I can fix it” he said as he reached for her arm. He knew he wouldn’t be able to heal her completely but taking away the pain and making an illusion would probably help. She pulled her arm away from him. Of course she did. He needed to help her. She was getting paler, and he could see how she started to drift off into unconsciousness. 

He grabbed her arm, and she gave in. His hand hovered over the wound. He felt sick as he looked at what he had done to her. Her skin had turned black from the cold he had projected onto her. His magic flashed green, and the wound started to heal fast. 

Her free hand reached over and touched her other arm. 

She muttered something he couldn’t make out. It was like a curtain had dropped before her and all the colour in her face disappeared. He stood up and lifted her into his arms. He put her down on his bed. He brushed hair away from her forehead as she laid asleep on top of his sheets. If it hadn´t been for the fact that her chest rose and lowered as she breathed, he would have thought he had killed her. He wanted to stay with her. Make sure no one would take her away from him. Let him have tonight, just to be in her presence. But did he want to see her reaction when she woke up and saw him? 

He needed answers. “I'll be right back” he whispered before he placed a kiss on her forehead. A noise escaped her. It sounded as if she was in deep sleep. Good. He paced down the corridors before entering the vaults. 

The blue glowing case caught his eyes as he slowly walked down the corridor. He hesitated before he grabbed it and lifted it. His skin started to turn blue. “Stop!” Odin yelled from behind him. Loki´s heart dropped. 

“Am I cursed?” Loki asked. He still held onto the box, and he didn’t turn to face his father. “No” Odin simply answered. Easy but too simple. Did he not take Loki seriously? “What am I?” Loki asked. He tried to keep a calm tone, but he could help but let the desperation taint his words. He knew deep down what he was. Or at least the thought had crossed his mind more times than he would like to admit. 

“You’re my son,” Odin answered. Loki put down the casket and turned around. “What more than that?” he asked. His desperation turned into anger as he was tired of his father’s lies. He started to pace slowly towards his father. 

“The Casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?” he said as he walked to the bottom of the stairs. “No,” Odin answered, and Loki stopped walking. “In the aftermath of the battle I went into the temple, and I found a baby” he started. Loki felt something building up inside of him. “Small for a giant’s offspring. Abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey’s son” Odin continued calmly. “Laufey’s son?” Loki repeated as he realised what Odin had kept from him his whole life. “Yes,” Odin nodded. “Why?” Loki asked. He felt his breath becoming uncontrolled and tears welling up in his eyes. His whole life had been a lie, and he was only now beginning to realise it. “You were knee-deep in Jotun blood, why would you take me?” Loki asked, desperate for answers. “You were an innocent child,” Odin answered calmly. But Loki knew his father better than that. “No. You took me for a purpose. What was it?” he asked. His breath was heaving. He tried not to snap before his father. To show weakness was not his intention. Odin was silent. 

“Tell me!” Loki snapped. A tear escaped him. He was desperate. He had felt out of place his whole life, but now that he was getting answers, he needed the whole truth. “I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day. Bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace. Through you” Odin finally answered. And with that Loki’s world shattered completely. “What?” he whispered. Was he nothing more than a pawn in Odin's game of war and peace? Nothing more than a stolen relic? 

“But those plans no longer matter” Odin disrupted Loki's trail of thoughts. “So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use for me” he said. It wasn’t a question, more than a statement. “Why do you twist my words?” Odin asked. Loki didn’t listen. The disappointment, anger, and confusion are all too much for him to handle. “You could have told me what I was from the beginning, why didn’t you?” Loki shouted at his father. “You’re my son. I wanted to protect you from the truth” Odin said. Loki was trying to wrap his head around the things his father was saying. “Because I’m the monster parents tell their children about at night?” Loki started. “No, no,” Odin muttered. “It all makes sense now! Why have you favoured Thor all these years! Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!” Loki erupted as he saw Odin collapse to the floor. He regretted his words at once, but he would never admit that to anyone. 

Odin laid, struggling to breath on the floor. Loki bent over him and watched him before he called for the guards.

☾

Loki had made his way back to his chambers. He felt as though he was going to explode. He had closed the door behind him. He looked at his hands. They weren't blue and unfamiliar. They were his ordinary arms. 

He turned and saw the figure on his bed. He had almost forgotten about her. You could just take her no, in her sleep a cruel voice in his head said. His voice. She will never take you willingly, it added before hitting himself. “Stop” he hissed to himself. He walked over to the window where he kept his wine before he poured himself a glass and gulped it down. He watched over the kingdom. He heard her heavy breaths. He noticed a smile creep onto his lips- No. She was the one thing he couldn't have. He didn't want to cause her any more pain. 

He turned around and walked over to her bedside. She looked so at peace where she lay. Her hair framed her beautiful face. Here she was. The one he had asked his mother to invite personally. 

He had been let down and downright angry when his father had announced his inheritor was Thor, of course it wasn’t unexpected, but it felt like a betrayal. Y/n had intrigued him ever since they were children and when warriors from her area had talked about how strange she was he was even more intrigued and figured he might have a friend in her. In all honesty, he wanted something or someone he could have to himself. He was selfish. But that had always been his thing. No one really knew him. He could be caring, could be nice. He just never showed it because people wouldn't let him. 

He had sought her out in her home village, yet he had never dared to actually meet her. He had just been watching her from afar, which he realised was creepy. The way she had spoken with her friends and laughed all the while being modest and mysterious. It had intrigued him. He figured he´d be married off to form some sort of alliance with another realm. He didn't want to, but he might have to do it. Thankfully it never happened. And now he had had the best chance to actually present the one he had thought about every now and then since he was young The spell he had used had completely knocked her out. He gently placed his hand on her forehead, making sure she wasn’t coming down with a fever. She was a little warm, but nothing to worry about. Should he wake her? Walk her to her own chamber across the hall? No, he was too selfish. 

She was still wearing the blue dress. She can’t sleep in that he thought as he went over to his dresser and pulled out a dark green tunic she could borrow. 

He sat down beside her and tried to wake her. It didn’t work. She was still breathing heavily. He lifted her and she fell into his chest. 

After some planning he managed to sneak her arms out of the dress before he threaded the tunic over her head. He undid the dress completely before he managed to pull in gently off her from her feet. He had managed to do this and kept her modest. He wanted to have a peak at her. Of course he did. This might be the last time he was going to see her. But her didn´t. He had too much respect for her. 

He positioned her gently under the covers and she snuggled in on them. He stood back before he hung the dress over the couch. He sniffed the fabric. It smelled of her. He planned on sleeping on the couch, but he had a big bed. There was more than enough room for the two of them to have their own privacy. He slipped out of his clothes and slipped into bed. He tried to shut the thoughts that ran through his head. He was exhausted both mentally and physically. 

He was half asleep when an arm crossed his torso, and another body was pressed against him. Y/n laid her head upon his chest and her leg placed itself over his and snuck under him. Sweet sounds escaped her as she moved. As she did this, she had graced his nether regions and he felt the familiar tightening sensation. “Not now” he whispered to himself through gritted teeth. He was in a haze because of his tiredness. But then he noticed y/n move, and he was wide awake. 

He needed something to occupy his mind. 

☾

*Y/n’s POV*

“Not now” the words made your eyes open. You quickly came to your senses and tried to push yourself from Loki. Hopefully he was the one beneath you. “I am so sorry” you said as you lifted your leg and went up to support yourself on your elbow to back away from him. Your leg gently bumped into something hard, and your eyes widened slightly. “No” he said as he pulled you back down. Heat started to pool between your legs again. Never had you been touched like this. It wasn´t necessarily sexual. But his skin felt amazing against your own. You usually woke up with your covers intertwined around your legs and arms, but never had you latched onto a man like this. 

You were facing him as your legs were planted on either side of him as well. Only your underwear separated your core from him. You looked down and noticed you were wearing an unfamiliar piece of clothing. You looked back up into his eyes. He looked as if he had done something wrong and wanted for you to react. He had no idea how much power he held over you. You barely knew him, and you were quite certain you would give yourself to him if he asked you right now. In fact, you wanted to give yourself to him, more than you would like to admit, and more than you would ever think possible. Especially after just knowing someone for a short period of time. It was as if you had known him your entire life, though you barely really knew anything about him. Like what his favourite colour was (to be honest it was most likely green).

“What´s your favourite colour?” you asked. Loki frowned. “What?” he asked. “What´s your favourite colour?” you asked again. You didn't move off him. “Green. Why do you ask?” he answered. You rolled your eyes. “Cliché. Mine´s also green” you admitted. “I’m trying to get to know you,” you said. Loki's eyes shifted. “Even after I almost broke your arm?” he said. Right. “Accidents happen” you said as a shiver ran down your spine as you remembered the pain. Your eyes quickly scanned over your arm, but there was no visible injury anymore. He had healed you…

“Then it's my turn” he said as he shifted under you. He sat up and you were forced to follow his movement. He leaned back against the headboard, and you still sat on his lap. The darkness made you brave. He could probably feel the heat from your core on his thighs. His hands rested on your thighs sending even more heat to the spot, but you didn't actually mind. 

“How many boyfriends, or girlfriends, have you had?” he asked as he squinted his eyes slightly. “We´re going straight there?” you laughed with raised brows. “Yes” he said with serenity. You blushed slightly. You put a strand of your hair behind your ear. “There´s never really been anyone. Boy or girl” you answered. He didn't look like he believed you. “You know I'm the god of lies” he started. “I'm not lying,” you said, a bit embarrassed. “I just never had the ‘interest’ until recently. And I have never caught anyone's attention like that” you said. Your eyes had travelled from his and you looked into his chest instead. “I can think of at least one who would disagree” he said as his hand found a loose strand of your hair. You looked back up at him. “What about you?” you asked. “There was a couple of women” he started as he looked you in the eyes. “They showed me how to do things, but nothing more” he said. “You´re a prince. You could bed anyone you would ever want” you stated. “And?” he raised a brow. You went silent. “I have simply never desired anyone-” he said. It sounded as if he was supposed to add something more, but he didn't. His thumb though started making circles on your thigh. Your eyes locked with his again. 

“It's my turn then” you stated. You swallowed and licked your lips slightly. “Can I kiss you?” you asked. Before he could answer one of his hands went from your thighs to the nape of your neck and his lips met yours. His other hand travelled up under the tunic. As his cool hand travelled up your ribs and stopped below your breast. Your own hand travelled across his torso. He was more toned than you thought. 

He leaned forward and you pressed yourself closer to him. You were tired but the buzz of energy Loki was causing kept you wide awake.

The two of you broke apart catching your breaths. The silence fell heavy between you silence and Loki lifted his hand again and cupped your cheek. Your skin tingle where he touched you. You leaned forward and Loki met your lips again. Your tongues clashed as he tightened his grip around your waist and rolled over. When he pressed himself against you, you felt his hard bulge against your core. You bucked slightly against him, and he groaned.

“As much as I would like to. I am not sure we should...” Loki said. One of his arms rested beside your head while his other hand grabbed onto your thigh making circles with his thumb. You reached up and grabbed his neck pulling him down towards you as you raised yourself. You planted your lips on his and he leaned down to you. 

You could feel his hard erection pressing at his underwear and onto your thigh. The ache only intensified. His tongue flickered against your bottom lip and your lips parted slightly. He gently, yet somehow extremely passionately and somewhat aggressively started exploring your mouth with his tongue. You felt almost drunk and once again you bucked up against him. He backed away. “Should and could are two different things” you grinned. He huffed slightly at your words. “Using my own words against me, are we now?” he chuckled. 

He then grabbed your waist and turned around once more. You found yourself sitting on his lap. You looked down at him. The light from the moon shone across his face. His eyes were puffy and red. “What’s wrong?” you asked. Your hand cupped his face. Your thumb stroked across his cheek bone.

He didn’t say anything, just looked away. 

“Not much of a talker, are you?” you whispered before you placed a kiss on his forehead. You knew too much. The barrier of pleasantry and etiquette was broken. And you didn't mind at all. “You’d be surprised” he said before he leaned into your chest. He didn't want to talk, but he wanted comfort. Comfort which you could provide. Your chin rested at the top of his head. Your arms wrapped around him, one holding him while the other fiddled with the curls of his hair. His arms held tight around your waist. 

“Loki?” you asked after some time. “Hm?” he hummed as he pulled back from you. He leaned back and supported himself on his elbows. You sat still on his lap, just above his knees. “Ehrm… How did you get me out of my dress?” you asked. He smirked slightly. “Oh, that... I didn’t see anything. If that’s what you're wondering” he said. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” you said without thinking. You clasped your hand over your mouth right after you said it. “I didn’t mean... or I did... but I am not... I’ve never been... “you rambled. You felt your cheeks burning as Loki chuckled. He chuckled. “I should stop bothering you” you said, and you swung yourself off Loki and the bed. You headed for the door, but were stopped by Loki grabbing your wrist. “You’re not bothering me” he said as he pulled you into his chest. His arm was placed behind your back. The other came up and he placed his thumb on your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. 

“You don’t know why you’re here do you?” he asked as he was searching for your eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I am here to represent my family. And frankly, I don’t think I’m doing that well of a job” you said as you closed your eyes. You turned away from him and he let you go. You went across the room and sat down on the small sofa in front of the fireplace. “I think you're doing excellent,” Loki said. You stared into the empty fireplace and felt the sofa bulge slightly as Loki sat down opposite of you. 

“I don’t want you to think less of me, Loki. You intrigue me, and my actions over the past few hours… I…-” you started, but Loki broke you off. “I don’t think less of you. You’re an independent woman, you can do whatever you please” he started. You looked at him. “I would never judge anyone, especially you, for giving in to their desires” he said in a calm tone. He spoke so elegantly and simply about such delicate matters. No wonder they called him silver-tongued.

The fire in your abdomen was lit again. God, he needed only to speak to you and you were in a trance. Maybe he had bewitched you?

“When you ask me what’s wrong, I don’t want to answer, because I am afraid you will run from me, because of the monster I am. I can’t blame you for that” he said as he closed his eyes. There it was again. Monster.

You stood up. “Monster? Loki, you’re no monster” you said as you stood before him. He quickly stood up and looked down at you. “How can you be so sure?” he almost shouted at you. You flinched at the sudden change. His voice was full of frustration. Something in you broke. He sounded so full of pain. 

“Loki-” you started, but he broke you off. “My whole life has been a lie, Odin, he lied, not just to me but to everyone! And for what? I have no place in this world. No one wants me here! I should have died-”. “Loki!” you screamed. He had backed you up against the wall and you had to snap him out of his rampage. Your eyes filled with tears. How could he think those things of himself? “Loki! Stop your lies. You are no monster, no matter what people tell you. You're good. Even better than your brother at times. Though you might not believe it. I do. I do believe it and-” you said before you stopped yourself. Loki raised a brow. You swallowed. “I want you, Loki,” you whispered. How did he make you say such things? You eye lingered on his lips as he reached up and twined a strand of your hair between his fingers. 

“I don't think you understand,” he said as he looked at his hand. You grabbed it and he looked into his eyes. You felt tears pressing at the corner of your eyes. “I'm tired of hearing those words. I do understand” you said. All the time everyone had told you, you wouldn't understand when you actually did. Loki leaned down and looked at you with curiosity. “You're not the only one with a difficult upbringing” you said. You could feel his breath on your lips. There was a pause before he leaned down closing the distance between you completely. Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek as his arms went around your waist as your lips met. His hands spread across your back and you were pressed closer to his body. He groaned into your mouth before his hands trailed down your back and grabbed your thighs and lifted you up. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he pushed you up against the wall. 

“I want you” you said once more as your arousal fogged your mind. “If you want me, I will give myself to you” you said desperately without thinking. He carried you to the bed. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked as he laid down in between your thighs. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life” you answered as you grabbed the hem of your borrowed tunic and pulled it upwards. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, and you nodded. He took the hem of the tunic from your hands and lifted it slowly and gently over your head. You lay bare chested in front of him and instinctively crossed your arms over your chest to cover yourself. 

“Don’t cover yourself. You are too beautiful for that” he whispered as he caressed your cheek before he removed his own shirt and trousers. You blushed at the sight of him. Loki reached behind your back and lifted you before he rolled over, so you were the one straddling him. You felt the bulge from under his briefs and you backed slightly from it afraid you would hurt him. He leaned backwards and you followed his movement. It started to pool between your legs, and you needed friction soon or else you might go mad. 

“Don't be afraid to tell me what feels good” he said before he added “I won’t ever hurt you. Not again.” You could tell from how restrained he felt under your touch that he wanted to be rougher. To touch you, but his hands didn’t move, as if he was afraid, he might burn you again. You pressed yourself against his chest as you kissed him. “I am not afraid” you said as you looked him in the eyes. 

Your hand went for his, and you led him up to your breast. He cupped it with his hand, and you held it there. Your eyes were connected the whole time and you gently pressed at his hand. He started massaging. You had no idea the skin could be so sensitive. You tilted your head back slightly and moaned lightly. Loki’s other hand went to your back and pressed you closer to him. He kissed his way down your neck. He found the sweet spot below your ear sending a haze over your sensibility. 

He gently tilted you back onto the bed and placed himself between your legs. Your arms wrapped around his neck, but he had other plans as he simply laid them back down. His left hand though locked with yours. His fingers intertwined with yours as he looked you into your eyes. “You're okay with this?” he asked. “Yeah” you whimpered. “You?” you added. Loki´s grin answered the question for him. You giggled slightly. Loki looked as if he were to say something but stayed silent. His lips graced your jaw before he started making a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. Once he moved past your navel he tugged at your panties and looked up at you asking for permission which you gladly granted by giving him a nod. You supported yourself on your elbows before you lifted your hips to help him. You whimpered as the cold air blew over your bare womanhood. Loki smirked. 

Now you were truly desperate for any form of friction and your thighs pressed together unintentionally. Loki laid a hand on your knee. Before sliding it downwards. “Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked. Your eyes snapped from his hands to his eyes. “No!” you said as you saw the worried look he had. “Nervous maybe” you tried to explain. You grabbed his hand. “But never uncomfortable” you said as you slowly lead his hand to cup your sex. You held eye contact as his finger separated your folds. You drew in a deep breath and closed your eyes as pleasure surged through you. You relaxed your legs gaining Loki more access. What you didn´t expect though was when he grabbed your hips and placed a pillow below your them. He threw your legs over his shoulders and started kissing the inside of your thighs. “Oh…” you moaned low. A finger slipped inside of you before another joined. His other hand reached up and started massaging your breast. You could feel something building fast from the bottom of your stomach. His fingers curled up inside you and hit a spot unknown to you. Pleasure waved over you making you arch your back and curl your toes. Lost in the pleasure he was giving you, you had forgotten about him. 

“Stop” you said. Loki backed off immediately. “Sorry, I didn't mean to” he said as he looked at you. He dried his mouth with the back of his hand quickly. “You didn't do anything wrong” you said as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “I don’t want it to be like that. I want you to enjoy it,” you said. Loki froze for a second. “You don't think I enjoyed that?” he asked as he crawled up between your legs and pulled you towards him. You went silent. He grabbed your hand gently and kissed it. “Would I be like this if I didn´t?” he said, almost cryptic. He mimicked your movement and your hand traced down his torso until he stopped slightly as he looked into your eyes. He let go of your hand and you were free to do what you wanted. Not that you had been forced to do anything this far. He was incredibly scared to step over your boundaries and scare you away. Your hand moved down and you took him in your hand. Not knowing what to do you gently stroked it a few times. Loki groaned as he bucked against your hand. Your toes curled. “I want you,” you said. “All of you” you added before you placed your lips on his. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck. “Tell me if you want me to stop” he said before you felt the tip of his head spread your folds. You took a deep breath and nodded. He entered you slowly and an uncomfortable pressure followed as he stretched you out. You winced slightly. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked as he stopped. “Gods no” you said as you lowered yourself onto him further. The foreplay had gotten you more than ready. He groaned as you did this which made something in you sparkle. He went deeper and let you adjust slightly before he started to slowly jerk back and forth. The uncomfortableness only lasted seconds before the pleasure took over. 

Your hand moved down between you and Loki. You found the bundle of nerves and started going in circles. Loki noticed this and he removed your hand and replaced it with his own. It felt even better. But it still wasn’t enough. You pushed Loki’s shoulder, He looked at you strangely, as he rocked his hips. But he got the memo and before you knew it you found yourself on top of him. You moved slowly at first, but as you got more and more used to him you quickened your pace.

He sat up and pulled you in for a kiss. He hit the same spot over and over again, it was as if you were getting a cramp in your lower abdomen before it finally snapped. A loud moan escaped you as you jumped off him. Your legs shook slightly, and Loki was laughing as he watched your reaction. Your eyes were wide, and you reached down and felt if everything was as it should be. Clearly feeling like that had to have consequences. 

Loki laughed at you, and you jumped up and almost attacked his mouth as you placed yourself atop him once again, hungry for more. Loki groaned into your mouth as you grabbed hold of him. He was bigger in your hand than you thought he would be. “Your turn” you whispered before you lowered yourself down on him again. Loki fell back down, and you grabbed his wrists, restraining him by holding them above his head. He smirked. Both of you knew he was much stronger than you, but this was still fun. 

After some time, you led his hands to your hips allowing him to control the pace. You leaned down and kissed him as you quickened the pace. He had other plans though and his arm reached around your back as he scooted off the bed. You held onto him and soon felt the cool press of the wall behind you. He held you in place as he entered you again. His nose found the crook of your neck and another moan escaped you as he found that spot hidden within you. 

This wasn´t just his turn. 

You held him tight as you felt your second climax approach. “Don’t jump off this time” he chuckled into your ear. “I won’t” you assured him. He kissed you and one of his hands came and cupped your breast. The tension in your abdomen spilled over again and Loki continued to pump inside you as you climaxed. You restrained yourself so you would not wake the whole corridor with your noises. 

Never, had you ever felt better. Loki’s pace quickened before he tensed and stopped. He rested still inside you as caught his breath. You looked into his eyes in your state of euphoria. 

“It’s a shame you’re leaving tomorrow” he said as he grabbed the basin on top of the dresser. He had laid you down on the bed and placed the basin on the floor. Something green flashed in the dark and you heard him wringing a cloth as water sounded dropping into the basin. He cleaned you up before he cleaned himself. 

“I´m not leaving tomorrow” you said and Loki stopped. “Frigga asked me to stay. See what life here at the palace is really like” you said before you kissed his shoulder. “Did she really?” he sat and thought for a while with the cloth in his hand. 

You had laid down beside him and was looking up at him. You grabbed his hand and pressed gently between his knuckles as you studied the line of his hands. You also studied how his hair fell behind his ears. How his chest heaved and most importantly how his expressions changed as he went through his thought process. 

“Come with me” he said before he stood up. He offered you his hand and you took it. Your fingers interlaced. 

He led you across the room. “We should get you all cleaned up” he said before he led you into the biggest bathroom you had ever seen. A big bathtub or pool (you didn’t know what to call it) which you thought you could possibly swim in was in the centre of the room. The wall on the left consisted of a shower big enough for a five-person dance party and opposites were a sink and a lavatory. 

He went over and turned on the taps before he went over to dim the light down. You looked at yourself in the mirror over the sink and noticed bruises were starting to form where Loki had sucked your skin before. You blushed slightly. “Hop in. I’ll go grab us some towels” he said, and you obeyed. 

As your toes hit the water surface you heard the door creek open and then shut behind you. You sat down and expected that Loki would sit down opposites of you, but he came and sat down right beside you. He moved over to one of the corners and dragged you along. You happily followed him. 

You leaned against his chest. You could easily fall asleep there. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked as you made figures on Loki’s thigh underneath the water. “Not really” he answered before he kissed the top of your head. “I promise I won’t run” you chuckled and before you knew it Loki placed his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him. He placed a kiss on your shoulder before he whispered, “I’m not so sure.” You turned and looked into his eyes. You turned again and lifted your hand and caressed his other cheek. You looked at your other arm that had looked quite different some hours before. 

He had burned you; it wasn’t like his other magic. But he was not burning you on purpose. And judging by the sensation it wasn’t actually burning either. It had been cold at first... “Jötunn...” you whispered to yourself. “Don’t” he whispered. He held you so tight that even if you wanted to escape you had no chance. “It doesn’t matter” you said before you grabbed one of his hands and he let go of you. He probably thought you wanted to leave, but you took a deep breath and leaned back and interlocked your hands before you kissed his knuckles, one by one. 

“I’ve never seen a bath this big” you said as you looked up at him. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly upward.

“You could swim in here if you wanted to” you said, and Loki chuckled nervously. You pulled away from him and moved to the middle of the bathtub. It was so deep you could not reach the bottom and you went under to try and reach the bottom. You couldn't, and you soon went up for air. 

“It’s enchanted” Loki said once you came up again. He was sitting facing you. “Oh?” you let out as you moved your hair from your face. “You can’t reach the bottom” he said. You moved your arm out and dragged him by his ankle. He slipped to you and you pushed him under the water as you laughed. Until you felt something dragging you down. You hadn’t time to inhale properly before water surrounded you. Loki’s hands found your face and cupped it before his lips met yours and he kissed you, sharing the air he had brought down with him. He pulled you close to him, and you could feel his semi hard member against your hip. 

He pulled you up with him and once you had caught your breaths above water the two of you started laughing. 

It wasn’t long before he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you deeply. When you pulled back you looked at him. What was going on behind those beautiful blue eyes? 

“What are you thinking of?” you asked with a wide smile on your face. 

“I don’t think now is the right time,” he answered. 

“Oh, come on. When will ever be the right time then?” you said as you moved your wet hair from your face. You were still giggling a bit. Loki shrugged. 

“Fair point” he said. You swam closer to him and supported yourself on his shoulders. “What is it then?” you asked curiously.

“Marry me?” he asked as he grabbed one of your hands all the while he was staring into your eyes. 

“What?” you whispered as your smile dropped. “Are you mocking me?” you added. “No, not at all” he said as he pulled you close. He swallowed before he said his next words. “You haven’t left my mind ever since I first saw you. Not just because you were kind to me, there was something about you. There always has been. I’ve been to your village several times. Hoping I’d run into you. I never did. I saw you a couple of times, and the latest time I was sure I saw you with a… love interest… A tall, blonde man, quite broad shouldered” he explained. “Erik?” you said shocked. “He’s just a friend. And he’s not even my type” you defended. You shivered at the thought of being more than friends with him. “No, he’s like a brother to me” you added. “I think he wants to be more than friends by the way he looks at you” Loki said. His hand placed itself on your chin again. “Loki? Are you jealous?” you laughed. “No, not at all” he shrugged. “But out of curiosity: what is your type exactly?” he asked innocently. “I think you know the answer to that” you answered before you swam to the opposite side of the bathtub. You got up and went into the shower. 

The shower filled up with steam not long after you had turned it on. Cold air hit you as another figure entered. “You didn’t answer my question” he said as he came up to you from behind and leaned down and kissed your shoulder. “Tall, dark haired, lean, youngest prince might be a frost giant” you said half joking. And you felt Loki starting to massage soap into your hair. 

“Not that question” he chuckled. It was good to hear his mood had changed somewhat. He turned you around and rinsed out the soap before he leaned down and kissed you. His new erection graced your hip and your hand found its way to Loki’s navel. You traced the line of hair down and looked up at him. He had stopped his movement. He was just watching you and you gently took him in your hand and started stroking it gently. His head backed and his hand cupped yours and squeezed it a bit tighter before quickening the pace. You watched him in awe as he tensed, and his seed spread across your abdomen. 

“Sorry” he said as he started using the water and grabbed a bottle of something to try and wash it away. He looked almost frantic, as if he didn’t handle quickly enough, he would damage you. “Loki, you’ve got nothing to worry about” you said before you caught his lips. 

You washed each other before you went and dried off and you put the tunic back on even though Loki suggested you sleep without it. You were now laying in his arms upon his bed. His question lingered on your mind. Was he drunk? Had he taken any drugs? Was that why he had asked you? Was it maybe a bet? You pushed them back.

“Why?” you asked. Loki looked down on you. “Why do you want to marry me? We don’t know each other” you repeated. ‘But I ache to do so” you wanted to add but didn’t afraid it would sound desperate. 

“Because…” he dwelled. “If my theory is true, the reason mother asked you to stay was to see if you would be fit for marriage” he said while he stared into the ceiling, and you saw he clenched his jaw. “Well, you wouldn’t have to ask so soon” you said. 

Loki shook his head. “I don’t think it’s me she has in mind” he said, and his eyes were fixed on you again. “What?” you said as you realized what he meant. Loki opened his mouth. “Where is Thor exactly?” you asked. “Father banished him. He’s been sent to Midgard. It’s a test. Had we lived for a hundred years, he might not be able to return. But considering the fact we live for thousand, he most likely will at some point” Loki said. He was probably right. “And then he will have a beautiful bride when he returns,” he said coldly. “You can’t possibly…” you started to say. You felt the tears press against the brim of your eye as you realized that if Loki’s words were true, you had no choice. 

“Yes, my answer is yes” you said as you stared up at the ceiling. Loki turned and looked at you. “At least it’s of my own free will” you said as a tear spilled over. If it was from happiness or grief, you weren’t sure. “Yet I still don't get why you would want to marry me? I have everything to gain. You will not gain anything from our alliance” you asked, and you turned to face him. “That’s where you’re wrong. I will get you. Everything I ever wanted” he said as he squeezed you closer to him and you found yourself almost laying atop him, your legs intertwined as well as your arm thrown across his torso. 

“Oh, how i have been waiting for you” he whispered right before you dozed off.

[captains-simp]

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.

[ravennm84]

Doctor’s Note

We all know how Lila fakes having different diseases and medical problems, but what would happen if she actually got sick and her mother went to the school to drop off a doctor’s note and pick up Lila’s assignments? Want the answer? Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

Greta Rossi could admit that she was a bit of a workaholic. Being the secretary to the assistant ambassador of Italy, in a city that was constantly under attack by a magical terrorist, was not the easiest job in the world either. It took a lot of early mornings, late nights, and even some weekends to make sure everything was prepared for her boss. But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t drop everything for her one and only daughter when she needed her. 

Right now, for example, Lila was trapped in bed with a nasty case of strep throat. The poor girl had a fever, white pustules at the back of her throat, and could hardly stop coughing. It was only due to some very strong medicine that she was able to stop coughing long enough to pass out from exhaustion. 

She had contacted her work to let them know she would be taking the week off, and the ambassador had been very understanding. Stressing that he knew how dedicated she was to her work and that it was good for her to take time off for her family. It was only after Lila was sound asleep that she made the phone call to her school, she wanted to make sure they knew why Lila was staying home and that she would be in later that afternoon to pick up her daughter’s assignments for the next week.

The principal, M. Damocles was his name, seemed very happy to have spoken to her and said that he would have her assignments waiting when she came to pick them up. Also, if she could bring the doctors’ notes with her, that would be very much appreciated.

Checking again that Lila was sound asleep, she left a note on her daughter’s bedside table that she was running some errands, would be home soon, and to text her if she needed anything. 

Arriving at the school, she was surprised to see everything running so smoothly and that the reconstruction after the two month akuma attack had been gone so well. She was impressed that she couldn’t even tell the difference between the old and new parts of the building. But then, she wasn’t overly skilled with architecture or building construction, so that wasn’t a surprise to her. 

A few knocks on the door and she entered M. Damocles office. She had only met the man a couple times, but he had seemed like a decent person. It was a shame that he had been akumatized for so long and she was curious about what had happened to cause him to be akumatized, but she wasn’t sure if it was proper to ask him.

“Mme. Rossi, good to see you. I understand that Lila has fallen ill?” He asked, spinning around to grab a blue folder behind his desk.

“Yes, the poor dear has strep throat and has been coughing nonstop for days.” Greta told him as she pulled the doctor’s note from her purse. “Here’s the note you requested, do you have her homework packet?”

Damocles looked over the note for a moment before nodding and looking at her expectantly. “Thank you, do you have her other doctor’s notes?”

Greta tilted her head in confusion. “Does she need more than one? It’s just strep throat, she should be back to school after next week.”

“No madam, this is all I need for her current leave from school. I was referring to the doctor’s notes for her tinnitus, arthritis, sprained wrist, and her lying disease. That last one especially, and any information you can give me on accommodating that one so we do not have a repeat of the incident last month.”

Nothing in the world could have kept her jaw from dropping. What he had just told her? “M. Damocles, everything you just said is completely false. Lila has no such ailments, and I don’t think there is such a thing as a lying disease, unless you are referring to pathological lying.”

The man blinked back at her a few times before raising one hand to rub his brow. “Oh my, Mme. Rossi, I believe you and I must have a long discussion about the things your daughter has been saying and doing since she started school here.”

Her legs were stiff as she lowered herself into a chair, a sick feeling growing in her stomach as M. Damocles pulled a different folder out from his desk.

~oOo~

Over two hours later, many truths had finally come out. 

1) The school had never closed for months due to akumas. 

2) When M. Damocles had been akumatized, it had been at night and did no damage to the school. 

3) Greta was not the ambassador, but a secretary. 

4) Lila did not suffer from any diseases. 

5) They had been in Paris since Lila had started school, no globetrotting whatsoever. 

6) She and her husband were not estranged, he had simply wanted to stay at his dream  job in Venice and she would never force him to leave it for her temporary assignment here in Paris. 

7) Lila’s grandmother was alive and had never owned or given Lila a foxtail necklace. 

8) The phone number on file was Lila’s number, not Greta’s. And the email was supposed to be ‘.gov’ not ‘.com’.

Damocles had also called one of Lila’s classmates to his office, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When the principal told Greta about the incident from the previous month, she was shocked. Then Marinette told them her side of the story; all the lies, the threats, and finally setting the poor girl up to be expelled. Greta had never been so angry with her daughter in her life. Sure, she had been a good little story teller and actress when she was little, but she never would have thought she could be so cruel.

By the end of her explanation, Marinette was practically in tears.

When she mentioned that Adrien Agreste also knew of Lila’s lies, he was called to the office as well. He was a little more reluctant to talk about what Lila had been saying, but Greta insisted that she wanted to know what her daughter had been doing since coming to school, so he told her. If she hadn’t been disgusted before, she definitely was now. Getting Adrien’s father’s employees in trouble, lying about being friends with Ladybug all while telling Greta that she was a useless hero, sexually harassing Adrien while the boy didn’t even realize that was what she was doing to him. She had become a Gabriel model without her permission, which meant that Lila had likely forged her signatures on the contracts, so she would need to contact M. Agreste to get that sorted out. One of the things that surprised her was hearing that Lila had been akumatized, not once or twice, but three times! 

Not long after that, M. Damocles dismissed the children so he and Greta could finish speaking. He told her that, due to falsifying contact records and two months of truancy, Lila was likely to be expelled. Greta accepted this, knowing that she would have done the same thing in that man’s position. In fact, she already had a plan forming on how to thoroughly punish her deceitful daughter. And since Lila had basically been quarantined for the next week and a half, she knew exactly what to do.

First, she began the paperwork to have Lila pulled out of Francois Dupont, effective immediately and asked to go speak to Lila’s classmates. After hearing what her daughter had put Marinette through, she wanted to make sure everyone knew the truth. Damocles allowed this, first pulling Mme. Bustier from the class to alert her as to what was happening. The woman was appalled to hear what had happened but insisted that she had been in contact with her for months via email, to which Greta informed her that it was not her email, but one that Lila had likely set up to keep the school from contacting her. This shocked the teacher to the point where she heavily leaned against the wall and M. Damocles had to support her to keep from collapsing.

When Greta was finally permitted to address the class and debunk the lies that her daughter had been spewing, there had been a lot of shock and questions to follow. But when a girl named Alya began furiously typing on her phone to blow up at Lila, Greta stopped her.

“I’m going to ask that none of you contact Lila from now on.” Alya and the other students looked at her in surprise, but she continued before anyone could interrupt. “I have already begun putting her punishment into motion and know for a fact that it will not be something she will forget anytime soon. So I ask that you do not call, text, or email her. If she attempts to contact you, tell her that you are busy and can’t talk. If she attempts to invite you over or make plans for the future, tell her that you are unavailable or that you already have plans. If she makes any threats or rude remarks to anyone, please forward those messages to me, I will leave my number for you to do so. Do this so that I may move forward with her punishment without her suspecting that I have discovered the truth.”

Having finally had the wool lifted from their eyes, the students realized just how much attention Lila seemed to demand on a daily basis. So, by acting like they were too busy for her or not in the mood to talk, that will drive her crazy and be a nice bit of revenge for lying to them. The class agreed.

After that, Greta headed home to find that Lila was still asleep but beginning to wake up, if the coughing was any indicator. While still having the chance, she called up her husband back in Venice.

“Pronto.”

“Mio amor, how are you? How are things at the school?”

“Ah, mia bella, the school is wonderful, though I must admit, my urge to see you and Lila grows by the minute. When will you come to visit me?”

“Very soon, actually. I’m afraid that you and I need to have a talk about our daughter.” About thirty minutes and a lot of cursing later, Ciro Rossi was now completely up to date on the actions of their daughter.

“I wish to say that I cannot believe Lila would do such things, but I can’t help remembering that boy, Roberto, from two years ago.”

Yes, Greta remembered him well. He had been a very popular boy at Lila’s school; handsome, rich, from a very well connected family, and from what she understood, completely dedicated to his boyfriend. She hadn’t paid him much attention until Lila came home crying that Roberto had attempted to sexually assault her. Greta and Ciro had refused to let such a thing go unchecked and went to the police to report him. During the weeks to follow, Roberto was put through hell; bullied at school, he was beaten up a few times, his boyfriend broke up with him, and his name slandered all over Venice. They had believed what happened to the boy to be justified… until proof was provided that he was nowhere near Lila when she claimed to have been assaulted. 

She suddenly recanted her story, saying that she must have been mistaken and someone that looked like Roberto assaulted her, but the damage had already been done. The boy and his family moved somewhere far away, and Greta and Ciro were forced to pay restitution to Roberto for ruining his name and reputation. Through her tears, Lila convinced them that it had been an honest mistake and that she hadn’t meant for any of that to happen. It wasn’t long after that, Greta received an offer to be the secretary for the assistant ambassador in Paris. Lila had begged her mother to go with her, claiming that her classmates were now bullying her for what happened to Roberto. Wanting to protect their daughter, they agreed.

Looking back on it now, and noticing the similarities between Roberto and Adrien, both Greta and Ciro were disappointed in themselves for not seeing the truth. Which likely was that Lila had tried to get close to Roberto for his money and connections, and when he turned her down, she lied about the assault to ruin his life, much like she had done to Marinette. And when it came out that she had lied about Roberto, her classmates had turned on her. So when she got the chance to start somewhere new, with people who didn’t know about her lies, she took it. Not caring if she harmed anyone at her new school while repeating old habits. But they were not about to let Lila do the same thing to Adrien or Marinette. Once Greta told her husband her plan, he was all for it and began preparing things on his end. By the time Lila was done being sick, her entire life would have turned upside down.

~oOo~

It took a lot more effort than Greta had expected to hide her intentions for the nine days it took for Lila to get over her case of strep throat, but she had been making good use of that time. 

She had contacted Gabriel Agreste’s secretary and asked about any contracts that may have been signed. When she told her she hadn’t signed any contract and that her daughter would no longer be modelling, the woman had no choice but to accept this and inform M. Agreste of this development. The woman also informed Greta that such a breach of contract would result in Lila being blacklisted from the fashion industry. She agreed and promised that she would inform her daughter of this once she was better.

Greta then looked into Lila’s savings and trust fund, of which she had control of since Lila was still a minor. She drained the accounts to pay restitutions to Marinette for bullying and slander, Adrien for sexual harassment; and then sent the rest of it to Roberto, along with a message that she was now completely aware of the type of person her daughter was and would be adequately punished very soon.

And to keep too much suspicion off of her, Greta began mentioning to Lila how her father desperately wanted to see her after she got better, so after the doctor gave her a clean bill of health, they would be going to Venice to see him. Now that she was watching, Greta saw the twinge of uncertainty at the mention of Venice, but quickly covered it with false excitement for going back to visit her father.

As the day grew closer that they would be heading to Italy, Greta also noticed Lila glaring at her phone with utter malice. She might not have known what was going on if Lila’s classmate, Alya, wasn’t keeping her up-to-date on what Lila was telling them. Her daughter was attempting to tell the class that she was going to be going on a trip with a famous singer after she was better, but her classmates were doing as Greta asked and treating the lies as if they meant nothing. When she accused Marinette of calling her a liar while she was sick and couldn’t defend herself, the class stopped responding. 

One message that was forwarded to Greta nearly had her abandoning her plan and confronting her daughter at that moment. It was a message that Lila had sent to Marinette, who had shared it with Alya, who then forwarded it to Greta. It read:

You fugly, no talent bitch! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Those stupid sheep were eating up every single one of my lies before I got sick, and now they won’t even talk to me! Just you wait. When I get back to school, I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself. Maybe I’ll convince someone that you tried to kill me and they’ll kill you for me. Either way, you’re dead. And even if you show someone these messages, no one will believe you over me. 

Greta forwarded the message to Ciro as well. He called her right away to discuss other accommodations that they would be making for Lila in the coming days. There was something seriously wrong with their daughter, and they refused to turn a blind eye to what was happening.

When the day finally came that Lila was better and they were heading to Venice, Greta instructed Lila not to pack her more expensive clothes as she would not want to lose them if their baggage got lost. What her daughter didn’t know was that Greta was planning on selling all of her designer clothes, jewelry, her electronics, and everything else to continue paying restitutions to Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto. And it wasn’t like she would need them soon, anyway.

The plane ride was a bit nerve racking for Greta, as she worried about giving something away and Lila figuring out her plan; but if she did, it didn’t show. When they landed at Venice Marco Polo Airport, she had to resist her sigh of relief. The plan was almost ready to be put in action. 

When she saw Ciro waiting for them in his dress whites, her heart sped a bit more. The man was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she’d ever met, and was the love of her life. Being away from him for so long was difficult, but what else could they do? Her husband was a Capitano di Vascello of the Italian Navy and had worked very hard to get where he was. Although he was semi-retired now and no longer served on a ship, he had followed his dream and became the Vice Principal for the premier naval academy in Venice, Francesco Morosini Naval Military School. 

He had gone to the school when he was younger and always claimed that it was the best experience he could have ever wished for. That being in that school saved his life. So when he continued into the navy to serve his country, he made it his goal to one day become the Principal of the school that saved him, so that he could do the same for other students. And now, they would be doing the same for Lila.

Greta and Ciro had thought of admitting Lila to Francesco Morosini when she came of age, but quickly realized that she was not the Navy type and did not want to force her into it. That choice was no longer Lila’s and she would be staying at the military school where it was Ciro’s job, not only as a father, but as an administrator of the school, to keep a close eye on any problem children.

Ciro embraced Greta and then Lila before taking their bags and walking them to his car. Lila was talking at length to her father about all her friends at school, all the happenings in Paris, and even mentioned her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.

“You would like him, Papa. He’s a model, a gentleman, and his father is the designer, Gabriel Agreste. And he treats me like a princess!” Lila gushed as she showed her father a picture of Lila kissing the blonde boy’s cheek. Greta had seen that picture and had even asked Adrien about it while they had spoken in M. Damocles office. Lila had apparently kissed him without permission when she took that picture, and then sent it to every girl in Adrien’s contact list to make it seem like they were dating. 

Ciro played along, asking questions about her classes, Adrien, the akuma situation that he had heard about over the news, and other things to keep Lila from growing suspicious. Sure enough, she prattled on through the entire car and ferry ride to Venice. Only seeming to look around questioning when they arrived at the Naval school, rather than their apartment.

“What are we doing here?” She asked, looking at her father in confusion.

The two parents dropped the act and glared at their daughter in disappointment and anger. “I’m surprised at you, young lady,” Greta started. “Did you really think you could keep lying to us? We. Know. Everything.”

They watched as her olive skin quickly paled. “What do you mean? I didn’t lie, I sw-”

“We know the school never closed,” Ciro interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument or interruption. “We know about you lying to your classmates and teachers about having disabilities and diseases. We know about you changing our contact information on your school records. We know about you bullying and sexually harassing your classmates. We know about the threats you’ve made to that one girl. We know that you’ve been akumatized multiple times. We know the truth about what you really did to Roberto two years ago! WE KNOW EVERYTHING!”

With every word he said, Lila seemed to inch away from her irate parents and shrink into herself. At the same time, they saw the rage and contemplation in her eyes. She was angry at being caught and was already trying to think of a way out of trouble. Not that they would give her a chance to even try.

“But I didn’t li-”

“Lie number one, Ladybug is a useless superhero that let your school get damaged and spent months trying to deakumatize your principal, which is why you were out of school for two months.” Greta interrupted that time, pinning her daughter with a glare that she usually reserved for idiot interns who screwed up important paperwork at the embassy. “I personally spoke to your principal and looked into Ladybug. The school never closed. Ladybug and Chat Noir have always defeated the akumas and restored the damage thanks to their abilities. And you told the school that you and I were off globetrotting to places like Achu.”

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. She was just beginning to stammer out an excuse when her father spoke over her.

“Lie number two, a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been bullying you because she is jealous of your relationship with your boyfriend, Adrien Agreste. We have seen the texts that you have sent that girl, the most recent saying,” Ciro pulled out his phone to read off of the text “‘...I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself…’ Does that sound familiar to you?” 

“I also personally spoke to Adrien after I spoke to Marinette, and found out that not only are you not his girlfriend, but you have been sexually harassing him! You even showed us proof in that picture you took where you kissed him!”

“But that’s not sexual harassment!” Lila shot back at them as her panic grew.

“Any unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature constitutes sexual harassment. Your mother and I memorized that when you accused Roberto of assault, which is another thing you lied about! And let me guess, you wanted to use that boy’s popularity and family connections for a leg-up, but he turned down your advances since he was gay. You didn’t take that rejection well, so you told us he assaulted you. Is that what happened?”

“How did you-” Lila interrupted herself that time by slapping her hand over her mouth, quickly realizing that she had confirmed what her father had just said.

“Well, congratulations young lady. You have earned a complete overhaul on your life.” 

“What do you mean?” Lila didn’t want to know, but it seemed like she had no choice but to ask.

“Your modelling contract with Gabriel is done,” Greta told her, noticing her wince since they weren’t supposed to know about that either. “I spoke with his assistant and discovered that you forged my signatures on the contracts to let you model. They were kind enough not to pursue legal action against you, but they have asked that I inform you that you have been blacklisted from the fashion industry, so that career option is completely closed off to you.”

“Your mother educated your friends at school with the truth. They know about all your lies and have kept us apprised of what you have been saying, the rumors you have been attempting to spread about going on a trip with a random music star, and were kind enough to forward that threatening message you sent to that girl, Marinette. They are no longer interested in being your ‘sheep’.”

“Not that you will be returning to that school,” Greta continued. “Your truancy has made that impossible, even if we did want you to stay there to face the consequences of your actions. Which includes paying restitution to the people you’ve hurt.”

“Paying!” Ciro and Greta watched as Lila’s right eye began to twitch as she snapped at them.

“Yes, paying. I’ve already emptied out your savings and trust fund to pay back Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto for what you’ve done to them-”

“You can’t do that! That’s my money!” She screamed, stomping her foot at her mother like a five year old throwing a tantrum.

“Money that you earned illegally modelling after forging my signature. And you are a minor, I am well within my rights to take that money to pay for the damages you have incurred. I will also be selling your laptop, tablet, mobile phone, as well as the clothes and jewelry you left in Paris. Seeing as you won’t be needing them anymore.”

As she said this, Lila clutched her phone and hugged it against her chest. “How am I supposed to talk to anyone without my phone?”

“Pen and paper, and if you need to speak with your mother, there’s my office phone or the payphone in the barracks, where you will be staying.” 

The girl’s eyes grew impossibly wide as she looked at her parents in a panic. They couldn’t mean…

Ciro smiled the smile that he used to greet the families whose children were in need of discipline. “Welcome to Francesco Morosini Naval Military School, where we strive to give children an education that will help them for their future and the world that waits for them.”

~oOo~

There had been a lot of begging, crying, and screaming after that as Lila did everything she could to try and change her parents’ minds. This was a total nightmare for her. Forced to wear a uniform she hated. Surrounded by students, teachers, and her father; all of whom knew that she was a liar. No one gave her the type of attention she craved, but everyone was giving her the overly watchful attention she despised. She couldn’t even enjoy becoming an akuma anymore, as she was far out of Hawkmoth’s reach.

Greta and Ciro had gone out to dinner afterwards in an attempt to de-stress, only to get a call an hour later that Lila had tried to steal a boat and run away from the school. She was put on a 24/7 watch after that, now required to wear a tracking monitor wherever she went and was on bathroom and floor cleaning duty for the foreseeable future.

When Greta returned to Paris, she went about doing exactly as she promised. She sold Lila’s electronics, clothes, and jewelry; only keeping a pair of plastic stud earrings that her grandmother had given her. She met with M. Damocles again to let him know that everything had been taken care of. She contacted the Dupain-Cheng family to let them know that Lila wouldn’t be bothering their daughter again. That was probably the most pleasant thing she did, as they were a lovely family and sent her off with a box of assorted scones, so yummy! When she had them send a box of goodies to her husband in Venice, he called her a few days later and begged her to send more whenever she could.

Lila absolutely hated seeing her father enjoy pastries from the bakery of her rival’s family. That, along with being forced to talk to a psychiatrist three times a week to make her admit that she was a liar and to figure out why she feels the need to lie. All while wearing a horrible uniform and actually having to clean. She was in her own personal hell. How she wished that she had never gotten sick.

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@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster  @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @ladylupuscrow @maskedpainter @miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @naruwitch @ola-is-dead  @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @pandora-fucking-box @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten  @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz  @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth  @ulmban  @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939  @zoiechance

[krabjoons]

omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]

⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.

⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader

⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp

⮕ word count: 12.8k

⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw

⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)

⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL

University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.

It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.

Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year. 

Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.

Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.

A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you’re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time. 

So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk. 

The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip. 

You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.

Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him. 

Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).

to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol

Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors. 

from lisa: ayo talk to him 

from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot

Smiling slightly, you respond to her.

to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students

from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes 

to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class

to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess 

from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf

to lisa: it is omg

from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on

to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot

to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints

from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here

to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him 

to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him

from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont

You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes. 

As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.

Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."

When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.

You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.

"So, I heard you wanna try me?"

You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"

"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.

"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact. 

"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."

"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.

"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"

You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.

"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.

"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.

"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true. 

"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.

"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.

"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"

You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp. 

His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies. 

The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.

"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.

"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."

Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.

He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement. 

"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response. 

You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.

He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.

Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.

"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes. 

"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too." 

"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances. 

"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.

"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.

You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.

"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.

He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.

Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum." 

"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal. 

"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds. 

"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.

He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.

Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."

He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.

"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then." 

You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"

He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room. 

"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?" 

Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.

"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door. 

"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.

Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private. 

from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him

from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him

from lisa: did you

to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao

to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it

from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit

to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time

from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching

to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot

from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho

from lisa: dude

from lisa: omg

from lisa: he definitely has a boner

Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.

to lisa: whAT

to lisa: wait how big is it

from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely 

from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.

to lisa: pls thats so hot

from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me

to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf

from lisa: on god do not get me started

to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you

Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.

from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him

from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum

to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg

from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)

You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.

to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?

from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will

to lisa: love u!! xx

from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo

The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.

Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room. 

You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again. 

"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.

"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."

"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.

You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.

"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.

"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.

"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.

"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.

You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head. 

"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.

Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."

"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."

"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.

That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.

He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.

"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.

"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl,  Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."

"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.

Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you. 

"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately. 

"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.

"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."

You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down. 

"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.

"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."

"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."

"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.

You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.

The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.

"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom. 

"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.

Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.

"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation. 

"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."

"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks. 

"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.

"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom. 

"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.

The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.

You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.

"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?

"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation. 

"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"

You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."

Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!" 

"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.

"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."

"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.

He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. 

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.

"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."

You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement. 

"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix. 

You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently. 

"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.

"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.

He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.

"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.

As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.

"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly. 

"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."

"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement. 

"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now." 

There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."

Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"

You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place. 

"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."

He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.

"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.

"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk. 

Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.

You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.

"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.

"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud. 

"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.

"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you. 

You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.

"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.

You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.

Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.  

Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?" 

In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.

Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment. 

When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation. 

He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.

"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.

"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.

"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.

When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.

"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."

"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.

"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you. 

You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?" 

You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"

"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.

For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.

"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.

You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.

"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs. 

"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret." 

"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on. 

"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.

You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.

"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future." 

"One day," he breathes out. "One day."

Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."

He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."

[elenamiria]

The Jedi

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.8k Summary:  (Direct sequel to this maul x reader fic) After the events of the day you have to reconcile what happened with your master. Obi-Wan for a change expresses himself through actions instead of words  Warnings: Master and Padawan relationship (Padawan is of age and I never write with the thought that the master has known them for a long time or since they were not of age), mentions of bruises and bite marks, Fem reader, oral (fem recieving), piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, inappropriate use of the force Masterlist -- Tags (send an ask or message me if you’d like to be added):  @fishswimbetterunderwater  @a-dorin @blxwjobsforclones @lynnie51 @katrynec  @mistermiraclee @theelvenvalkyrie @crazycatladyjenga​ @stonegoldsecret-v2​  @blackirisposts​

You paced around the room aimlessly as you waited for your master to show up, nothing to distract you from your thoughts. You tried to squash down the fear inside you for what lay ahead not wanting to add to your already long list of un-Jedi like behavior from that day. When the sudden noise of a second set of footsteps joined yours you froze. The sounds grew to a thunderous level in your head before silence fell through the room, your back was to the entrance and a pit formed in your gut as you slowly turned around. Obi-Wan stood there in his usual attire, looking as composed as ever and yet as his cerulean eyes took in your form you felt yourself tremble under his gaze. You were the first to break the silence with a quiet, "I'm sorry," not knowing what else to say.

Obi-Wan shifted and took an audible inhale, the breath catching in his chest before he could say anything. His exhale was equally as loud as he shook his head, looking away briefly, your heart was in your stomach as you felt tears gather in your eyes. When his gaze turned back to you he noticeably softened as he called out to you, "Oh no, none of that. Come here darling."

His arms opened and in seconds you were across the room slamming into him and pulling him close to you. Obi-Wan returned your tight embrace one hand coming to grasp the back of your head firmly as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his other arm firmly wrapped around your waist. You weren't even aware that you were crying until you gasped for air and Obi pulled away enough that he could cup your face softly. His thumb brushed away your tears as his eyes roamed your face, "It's alright, I'm here, it's ok."

You bit your lip as you took deep breaths mimicking his breathing in an attempt to calm yourself. Once you had stopped your tears Obi-Wan offered you a toothy smile and your eyes darted to his mouth before locking eyes with him.

"You aren't angry with me?" You questioned hesitantly, almost afraid to hear the answer. Obi's countenance darkened for just a second, you would have missed it if you did not know him so well, before switching back to a more neutral look - though he couldn't hide the relief in his eyes.

"No little one, I'm not angry with you. I am relieved that Maul didn't hurt or kill you...I don't know what I would have done." Obi-Wan's admission came a surprise to you, though it was obvious the both of you cared about each other a great deal it wasn't a fact the two of you often discussed. Especially when your feelings for him ran far deeper than a simple master and padawan bond should. You offered Obi-Wan a small smile as he continued, "We can deal with what happened here later, for now let's get you back to the ship."

His words gave you pause as you remembered the whole reason for being on-planet in the first place, for a moment you panicked as you gasped out, "The troopers!"

Obi once again soothed you, his hand slipping down your spine to rub gently at your back, "They're fine, they contacted me when you didn't make contact with them and they all have been picked up and are back on the capital ship. I had come down myself with a few men to look for you when you..."

Trailing off Obi-Wan abruptly pulled away from you, his face red, as he cleared his throat and straightened up, nodding towards the door, "Like I said we can discuss that later. Why don't we go back to the ship for now."

The speeder ride back to the troopers was silent and awkward, as was the ride back to the main ship. Obi was quick to escort you back to your quarters and away from prying ears, something which you were immensely grateful for. When you entered your room there was another spot of silence until both of you were speaking at once, “I don’t know how it happened and I-”

“You moaned my name. Twice.” Obi-Wan’s words intercut with yours and you froze as your brain processed what he was saying. Eyes wide you sputtered for a moment until you managed to spit out a lame, “Yes.”

You could see Obi-Wan’s cheeks reddening through his well groomed beard and you felt your own face heating as well. Looking down at the ground you mumbled, “I did. I- when I heard your voice all I could think about was you and I....”

Trailing off you really hoped he understood what you were going for and didn’t ask you to elaborate. A surprised little ‘oh’ left Obi-Wan’s mouth before he cleared his throat and questioned, “Have you thought about...you and I before those moments?”

You were sure his question was innocent, there was no way Obi-Wan felt the same way you did. He had never shown any outward interest - always the picture perfect Master, however you felt shame rising in you at the sheer amount of times you had thought about Obi in that light. You nodded and heard Obi-Wan take a deep breath before letting out a long sigh, it was then that it all became too much. You didn’t want to hear his rejection of you and you didn’t want to hear another lecture about the ways of the order, and you especially didn’t want to have to talk about having fucked your Master’s worst enemy. Instead you glanced at Obi-Wan muttering, ‘I need a shower,’ and fleeing to the bathroom.

The mirror was finally defogging from your extremely long and probably too hot, but much needed, shower. You stared at your appearance in the mirror, fingers brushing over the faint bruises blossoming on your hips, only just noticeable, before you tugged your underwear up. The room was hot from your near scalding shower but you pulled a spare undershirt over your body anyway. Your fingers lingered on your neck, 3 large marks decorating the skin there and you sighed lightly. The shirt did little to conceal the marks and so you tugged on the robe you had thrown on the floor earlier, pulling it tight around your body. A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts and you responded with a short “Come in.”

Attempting to find something to busy yourself with you found yourself picking at imaginary dirt from under your fingernails. Obi-Wan’s call of your name had your eyes darting to meet his in the mirror. Your breath hitched at his face etched with worry.

“Are you sure your alright little one? I-I know you said you were alright but it would make me feel better if I could check you for injuries myself.”

Your eyes hardened for just a second, fully prepared to say no, but the pure desperation you found in his eyes had you giving in. Giving him a short nod you whispered, “go ahead,” so quietly Obi-Wan nearly missed it. Looking down at the floor you slowly turned to face him, his hands landed on your arms trailing down to lace fingers with you. A soft squeeze had you finally glancing up to meet Obi’s eyes. Though just moments ago looking him in the eye had seemed terrifying now that your gaze locked with his it was the only thing convincing you that everything was going to be alright. 

You were the one who unclasped your robe, shrugging it off your shoulders and allowing it to fall to the ground again. Obi-Wan’s breathing stuttered as he caught a glimpse of your neck, his fingers immediately hovering over the marks almost touching them. His hands dropped quickly as he seemingly realized they were made by Maul’s mouth and a displeased look covered his face. Obi’s eyes trailed down your body and his hands settled on the hem of your shirt. When you gave him a slight nod his palms began sliding up your shirt baring your upper thighs to him, once the shirt made it over your hips he paused. Blue eyes picked up on the faint marks on your hips and his fingers brushed over your left side causing a small hiccup in your breathing as your face heated at his tender touch. Obi-Wan’s eyes darted to your face and he whispered out, “Does that hurt little one?”

You nodded and Obi-Wan started to bend down as if he was going to examine it further until you spoke, “It’s not necessarily the bad kind of hurt though. It’s uh, more just sore.”

You offered, not wanting him to trouble himself over something so insignificant. However Obi-Wan continued his path downwards and as he settled on his knees in front of you a teasing glint entered his eyes as he questioned, “So, you don’t want me to kiss it better?”

Your jaw dropped at his brazen words, face burning hot as a squeak escaped you. Swallowing deeply you glanced down at your master while he stared expectantly up at you, waiting for a response. You nodded again though all that earned you was a slight head tilt and you pouted lightly realizing that you would actually have to admit what you wanted. Taking a deep breath your hand reached over to cup his cheek, fingers brushing through his scruff lightly as you breathily requested, “Kiss it better, please Obi-Wan.”

Your words came out a bit more sensually than you had planned but with the way Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened you couldn’t find it in you to care. Obi’s eyes trailed back down to his target, a spot just above where your panties ended, and suddenly he was pressing forward and placing a hot open mouthed kiss the the bruised area. A gasp flew from you as Obi-Wan suckled lightly at the affected area, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine. His tongue lapped gently in between sucking and experimentally he nipped at the area causing a startled yelp to fill the room. As Obi-Wan made his way down the area, beard scratching at your stomach and leaving your hips to buck unconsciously, his hands slid to your ass - groping firmly. His mouth made its way to hover just over your clothed and absolutely soaked pussy. Taking a moment Obi-Wan looked up at you once again as he cooed out, “And what about here, darling? Are you sore here too?”

Truth be told you were sore from the thorough fucking that you had received from the former sith lord but there was a part of you that was aching for this so strongly that you couldn't hold back any longer. Gliding your hands to your panties you grasped the edges and pulled them off, muttering sweetly, “I bet you could make my cunt feel so much better Obi-Wan, it’s aching for you.”

Obi audibly choked at your words, his hands settling on your thigh as he guided your legs open and exposed your slick swollen lips to him. A low groan slid from his throat as he took in just how soaked you were for him and you caught the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Moments later it was you who was letting out a groan as Obi-Wan flattened his tongue and licked a broad stroke up your lips, catching on your clit and causing your legs to tremble. Repeating the motion Obi took in your taste, your freshly bathed scent, everything about you that he could take in he did - desperate for every part of you. As he repeated the long lick a third time his hands squeezed your thighs gently and before you knew it Obi-Wan was diving in, lapping and sucking at your clit like a man starved. You cried out, partially in surprise partially in pleasure, and your hand buried in his hair as bliss shot through your body. 

Your hips canted towards him unconsciously, enraptured with the pleasure you were receiving and delighting in the way his scruff rubbed against you. The way you continually ground against his face along with the perfect little whimpers and whines you were causing Obi-Wan to harden, cock swelling with need, desperate for you. As he continued his ministrations one of his hands left your thigh to grasp at his aching length over his pants, needing some form of contact. When his hand left you, curiously you had looked down and you could immediately tell what was going on. 

Your breath hitched and though Obi had worked you up so close to reaching your peak you decided there was another place you’d rather cum. Reaching down you tugged lightly on his hair urging him away from your dripping lips with a cry of his name to draw his attention to you. His dazed expression almost tipped you right over the edge - his beard and lips glistening with your juices, the way his tongue darted out to clean his lips, and the way he stared up at you like you held all the stars in the galaxy. A breathless smile covered your face as you guided Obi to stand again and crashing your lips together once again. His arms were wrapped around you in and instant, pulling you close as if he were worried you would disappear. You could taste your tang on his lips and on his tongue when you parted your lips for him, the taste combined with his causing you to whimper into his mouth. When you finally broke apart with a soft moan you trailed your hand down to stroke his cock as you pleaded, “Please fuck me, Obi.”

A deep pleased rumble left Obi-Wan’s chest and he captured your hand to tug you out of the bathroom to the small bed within your quarters. Sitting down on the bed he tugged you onto his lap, legs on either side of his thighs and your cunt just barely brushing his bulge. Obi kissed you soft and sweet this time while your hands made quick work of undoing his breeches to tug his thick length out. As you hands brushed against his cock Obi-Wan let out a strangle sort of groan as his head jerked back, eyes squeezing shut for just a moment. His reaction had your lips parting before curving into a soft smirk and you ran your fingers up and down the length of his rigid dick, eyes watching his reactions intently wanting to commit each one to memory. After a particularly needy gasp of your name you took mercy on your master and lined his tip up with your entrance, your hips brushed back and forth slightly, coating his tip in your juices before you sank down onto him. The first few inches took your breath away and you could tell Obi-Wan was feeling it too as his hands landed firmly on your hips. You let out a small hiss as his hands squeezed over the bruised areas and quickly he relocated his hands to your waist with an apology. Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gave them a squeeze as you whispered out, “It’s alright Obi-Wan.”

Taking a few deep breaths you raised yourself up slightly before sinking back down onto the hard cock below you, taking a little more of him into you each time you repeated the motion. When you felt like you could take him all you allowed yourself to sit hard on his length and he bottomed out deep within you. Your walls fluttered hard around him as you nuzzled into his neck, smothering the moans that flew from your mouth. Obi’s hands tightened as he breathed out your name and swearing seconds later when you clamped down on him. As you adjusted to the feeling you slowly started to grind your hips against his, whimpering while his cock brushed up against your most sensitive spots. Gasps filled the air as both of you took in the pleasure and you leaned back in order to start bouncing on Obi-Wan’s length. 

Your Master guided you, using his hands to help you keep your rhythm, and this time he was burying his face in your neck. He left light kisses and gentle nips over the areas where Maul’s teeth had bruised, soft and gentle where Maul was rough. Obi-Wan didn’t seek to mark you as his only to soothe and comfort, he hoped to let you know that it was alright and that he still loved you despite what had happened. His softness had your walls clenching at every brush of his beard and every time his lips touched your neck, it was all so overwhelming you found you were barely able to keep your pace. Obi-Wan must have sensed your struggle as he lifted you off of him, despite your protests, in order to lay you down on the bed below him. Settling in front of you he lined back up with your entrance while your legs wrapped around his hips - urging him forward. A light laugh filled the air as Obi-Wan smiled down at you and teasingly chided, “Patience, little one.”

You couldn’t help the pout that covered your lips until Obi-Wan leaned forward to kiss it away. You giggled softly against his lips, unable to stay annoyed with him especially when he was kissing your thoughts away. His hand that wasn’t holding his weight found the edge of your shirt and slid under it, forging a path up your stomach and sternum before settling on your breasts. Gasping as Obi-Wan’s lithe fingers tweaked at your nipple he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth while you arched your back below him. In the midst of this Obi’s hips finally relented and his cock prodded at your entrance before you reached down to angle him properly so as he shifted forward his cock pushed into your depths. 

Your cunt clenched around his tip desperate for more and Obi-Wan was happy to oblige, pressing forwards as he he broke apart from your lips to sit up straight. His hips thrust forward the rest of the way until his hips were flush with yours and you were both sighing in pleasure. You whimpered under him and bucked your hips with a soft cry of his name, Obi-Wan smiled down at you as his hips dragged backwards. The slow pull of his cock against your sensitive entrance had you whining below him as your hips chased after his only to loudly cry out when his hips snapped forward again. He repeated these slow drags and quick thrusts for several long minutes until you were writhing beneath him, babbling and pleading for more. Obi-Wan teased until a cry of, “Master, Please!”, left your lips and he finally caved. 

Your words had him growling out your name as his hips sped up to a steady rhythm, the sounds of him dicking you down filling the air. His grip on your waist tightened slightly as his cock pounded away and you were shocked by the fast pace he had set. You had expected Obi-Wan to want to take things slow but after all the buildup it seemed he was as desperate for you as you were for him. His grip on your waist had pulled your shirt tight against your body showing off the way your tits bounced on every thrust into your slick cunt. Obi’s eyes were trained on them and his hips sped up as he adjusted his grip, one hand fisting your shirt to keep it tight while his other grabbed one of your tits. Squeezing softly he ran his thumb over your peak, quickly finding your nipple and rolling it between two fingers, causing it to stiffen and for a squeak to fly from your lips. Your hand shot down to your clit as a deep thrust hit something that had you seeing stars and your orgasm fast approached while Obi toyed with your nipples. Panting your fingers rubbed tight circles on your clit until both your arms were wrenched over your head and pinned there by unseen hands. Obi-Wan’s use of the force had your walls tightening around him as he growled out, “Let me take care of you little one.”

His hand which had been wrapped in your shirt slid down your tummy to find your clit, mimicking you movements and rubbing in tight circles that had you crying out for more. Your hips bucked in time with his thrusts as his cock slammed into you over and over. You were so close to tipping over the edge and your eyes met Obi-Wan's as you simpered out, “Obi, please I’m so close. I need you Obi.”

Shifting his weight his pace slowed as his arm slid under your body to grasp at the back of your neck and he leaned down, his chest pressing into yours as his lips captured yours. His adjusted position allowed him to press deeper into your tight cunt, once again brushing up against your g-spot and hitting it consistently on each thrust. He swallowed down your cries as you tipped over the edge, pussy spasming and clenching around his length, his fingers working you through the orgasm. Your chest expanded as you wiggled below him, pressing the two of you together impossibly close, and you whined into his mouth as his fingers continued toying with your clit, prolonging your pleasure. Muttering a protest against his lips at the overstimulation you were silenced by him pulling back just enough to whisper, “It’s alright darling, I have you. You can give me one more, I know you can do it my good girl.”

His words sent a heavy aftershock through your body and your walls fluttered much to Obi-Wan’s delight as he let out a light moan. His slow, sensual pace continued and your cunt squeezed constantly around his length as the stimulation on your little bundle of nerves got to be too much. Your hands clenched, fingers digging into your palm, as you attempted to smother your noises as they grew in both frequency and volume the closer you got to your second orgasm. As Obi slammed into you particularly hard you couldn’t hold back the blissed out noise that slipped between your lips as your eyes unfocused for a brief moment. Obi-Wan repeated the motion causing the same reaction as you lost yourself in the pleasure, Obi grunting as you clamped down on him.

“You like that little one? Want me to fuck you like that until you cum for me darling?” He questioned, continuing the same motion and increasing his speed without waiting for a response. Though it was just as well since you were fairly incapable of responding to him as your eyes glazed over and you cried his name out as you were swept up in your second release. As if determined to blind you with pleasure Obi’s fingers sped up against your clit, rubbing furiously and causing your whole body to tighten - spiraling higher and higher until it was all too much and your body went limp. You felt a rush of liquid as you gushed around his thick cock and the obscene squelching noise that filled the air as your Master fucked you through your orgasm caused an embarrassed moan to escape you. The slick tickled at your clit and soaked his fingers, which he finally removed from your aching nub, and you whimpered when you felt it slide down your asshole to land on the bed. At the feeling your weak cunt clenched and Obi thrust a few more times, until he stilled deep within you as he reached his own peak. His cum shot out in ribbons, painting your walls and filling you up more than you thought possible. As he came inside you up his grip on your hands through the force faltered and your arms were free, instantly clinging to his shoulders as soon as you realized you could move, tugging him to you for a soft kiss. 

The two of you lay together for a long moment, him nuzzling into your neck and you laying there thoroughly exhausted as you stroked his hair gently, arms still wrapped around his shoulder. Obi-Wan was the first to move with a regretful groan as he separated from your heat, you flinched as he withdrew and for the second time in 24 standard hours you felt cum sliding from your sated pussy. A whimper left you but you were far to exhausted to do anything about it, not even noticing that Obi-Wan had disappeared to grab a warm damp cloth along with a meal bar and water. Having removed his outer layers he came back with just his undershirt and underwear on as he knelt by the edge of the bed. Tenderly he moved your legs so he could clean up the mess of your combined cum in slow gentle strokes. When he was finished he helped you sit up in order to eat and drink, sliding back onto the bed behind you and his arms winding around you waist. You eased back into him with a contented sigh and he accepted your glass and trash, laying them on the floor, when you were finished. The two of you maneuvered until you were comfortable, Obi-Wan laying on his back with an arm tugging you close while you used his chest as a pillow and pressed yourself to his side. After all the recent events your brain was running a mile a minute and yet you could barely keep your eyes open. Drowsily you went to ask Obi-Wan a question but all you got out was his name before your eyes fluttered shut. That last thing you heard before drifting off was, “Just rest now sweet little one, I’ll be here when you wake.”

It was dark. Pitch black, and yet someone else was there - you could sense them. Cautiously spinning around you attempted to peer through the darkness to no avail. Your hand reached unconsciously for your lightsaber only to find it missing and you tensed. Finally something broke the silence, a recognizable deep angry low growl that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’ve been very bad my little Jedi. Such a little slut you let your Master fuck you not even a day after I did. Do you really have such a greedy cunt?” The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time and you spun trying to locate him. You could feel your annoyance at the Sith build as he refused to show himself until you froze as his golden eyes glowed at you in the darkness. You had to bite back a whimper as he stalked towards you, a mix of arousal and anger filling you. His voice echoed towards you, reverberating off of nothing in a way that had you quivering, “Don’t worry my little whore, the next time I see you...I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

In a sudden flurry of movement he was inches from you, his hand pulling your head back harshly as his teeth bared in a fierce scowl, “I’ll have to remind you that you belong to me.”

A yelp flew from your lips at the unexpected closeness and suddenly you were shooting forward, sitting up quickly. Blinking blearily you tried to regain your bearings as you looked around for Maul frantically. It wasn't until a sleep filled call of your name met your ears that you convinced yourself it was just a dream. Obi-Wan’s hand met your spine as he called to you again and you turned to meet his furrowed brow and concerned blue eyes. Smiling you nodded with a whisper of, “Just a bad dream, that’s all.”, before you allowed him to pull you back down to him. Nuzzling into his chest you allowed yourself to relax as you repeated softly, “It was just a dream. Just a dream.”

Maul’s piercing yellow gaze bore into the ceiling above his bed. A smirk tugged at his lips, he had never planned on fucking you again - figuring he would use you against Kenobi the next time he found you, and then disposing of you. But now? Now that he knew your Master had feelings for you it was going to be so much more delicious to ruin you for him. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch as recalled all the depraved things you and he had done last time before thinking of all the things he was going to do to you the next time he found you. Maul’s eyes slid shut as his hand wrapped around his aching length, for now he’d just have to be content with his own imagination.

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

[nopelleen]

Perish, Pretty Please (5/5)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rick Flag was known to be a pretty good leader, it was the reason why he had been chosen to lead a squad of infamously reckless and idiotic criminals, however it was a lot harder to maintain his authority when one member of the team despised his guts for seemingly no reason.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Rick Flag x Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.7k

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: it took me so long, but it’s finally there -- the last part! I started this fanfiction knowing I had a tendency not to finish them and I’m honestly so proud right now, I hope you’ll enjoy this last part as much as I enjoyed writing all of this! (also please let’s all have a moment of silence to remember the moment my hopeful, foolish ass actually posted the first part with “1/2″ in the title)

“Nope, there’s something we gotta take care of first."

You watched with blatant bafflement as the three men nonchalantly walked away from the blazing truck that had been transporting them merely minutes ago. There was almost a bit of disappointment in your heart as you watched the plan you and Cleo had so meticulously orchestrated on your way here vanish into thin air. It was a shame – your rescue plan involved a lot more wow factor. Had you known the outcome of this small drawback, you wouldn’t have put so much effort into it; but how could you have guessed the three of them would find a way out of a van guarded by multiples soldiers all the while handcuffed and therefore supposedly incapacitated? That was absurd.

“Don’t look so surprised, it’s insulting.”

You shot Flag a tight lipped, mocking smile as a response to his friendly jab, clearly recognizing the words you had used against him in the afternoon. Your sardonic grimace poorly mirrored the playful smirk the colonel adorned as he walked towards the van, and you were surprised to feel your heart swell a bit when you noticed his smile spread into a genuine one as he walked past you, slightly shaking his head in amusement.

Without even questioning how they had gotten themselves out of that prickly situation, you whirled around and followed suit as Rick climbed back into the van, telling Milton the small change of plan. That one enthusiastically nodded before happily informing the squad that you’d reach the city by dawn, making you realize you had spent a good chunk of the night at that bar and yet did not feel that tired yet – which might just have been from the adrenaline released into your system at the sight of your three teammates walking out of a blazing vehicle.

“You sleep, I watch Thinker,” Nanaue suggested as he heavily lumbered towards the back of the van, where the hostage was surprisingly staying very still, wise enough not to attempt anything while sharing the same space as King Shark.

Your steps faltered as you entered the van, your gaze hesitatingly flickering towards the seats in the back which appeared way too crowded for your liking. You usually would’ve simply gone back to your seat at the front, but Rick was now occupying the one near the window, probably as a way to stay close to the driver.

With a reluctant sigh, you were about to follow King Shark towards the back when Rick casted a pointed look towards you before patting the seat beside him in case you did not understand.

Relief washed over you and you didn’t even need to give it a second thought before flopping onto the space beside him, glad not to have to settle for a spot anywhere near Peacemaker. Your muscles were stiff as you quite literally bounced onto the cushion, and as soon as your back did as much as graze the backrest, the entire day of walk, hours of dancing and minutes of worrying about Flag’s well-being caught up with you with a dizzying speed.

If earlier that day you had been able to fight off sleep vigorously, you now found yourself melting into the cushion of your seat as soon as you flopped onto it. At first, you remained steadfast, refusing to yield to your basic human needs as you forced yourself to sit up straight, but then there was a strong gravitational pull making you sway a bit on your seat as your head started lolling forward, and then another pull – Rick’s hand, this time – gently steering you back into your seat. Incapable of fending off the drowsiness any longer, you surrendered and finally allowed yourself to loosen up, feeling your head snugly land upon Rick’s shoulder as you drifted off into a soundless sleep.

-----

“Outburst, hey!”

“She’s sleeping.”

From his seat at the very back of the van, Peacemaker frowned as he craned his neck in an attempt to peer at your figure still slumped over Rick’s shoulder. “Well, wake her up,” he groused, tinges of annoyance seeping from his usually polished tone. “She’s… spewing her emotions all over the place. It’s reeking of sadness in there.”

◦◦◦

“It’s reeking in there; crack a window open, will you?”

Your finger harshly jabbed the switch, your gaze remained firmly fixed on the buildings passing by in a blur as the window lowered just a bit in an abrupt, choppy motion. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your mother shooting you a brief, curious look. You hadn’t uttered a word ever since you two had left the family reunion. You knew it hadn’t been a good idea to agree to come.

The car then lapsed into another uncomfortable silence. You were both acutely aware of the thick, sweltering acrimony flooding off of you and yet still refused to address it, instead letting you bask in it with your mouth clamped shut, letting it gnaw your insides until your lungs felt charred, incapable of drawing oxygen any longer.

Why had you agreed to this? You were an adult; you didn’t need to expose yourself to this anymore.

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to breathe in deeply, only for your chest to constrict, becoming painfully hollow. Tears started brimming at the edges of your vision and you finally allowed your lips to part, letting a bated breath stumble out of them with urgency.

“I heard you earlier.”

◦◦◦

“I’m not waking her up,” Rick scowled in one curt sentence, already feeling a bit on edge and therefore not wanting to dwell on the matter.

Peacemaker’s eyebrows furrowed even deeper at Rick’s unwavering tone. He usually dealt easily with negotiation and compromises, he worked well under authority and was a suitable soldier because of it, but at the moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to be patient – maybe because of how thick with tension the atmosphere had become because of you.

“We can feel her,” he insisted again, spitting the words out in an irritated hiss.

◦◦◦

“Honey, I can feel you, tone it down,” your mother complained as she kept her eyes on the road. Either your words went completely over her head, or she refused to acknowledge them, knowing that with the amount of resentment she could feel rolling off of you in waves, there was no way a discussion could lead to a good outcome at the moment. She was already having a hard time not letting the irritation get to her in spite of the smoldering atmosphere.

“I heard you talking to aunt Matty,” you reiterated. “You said it was my fault.”

“What was?”

“Dad leaving.”

The uttered words dropped like thunder in the car, leaving the air charged with electricity.

“I didn’t say that,” she rebutted with a bit of an acerbic tone. The tension was starting to get to her, slowly but steadily eating away at her mind in spite of her resolve. She could feel the resentment seeping into her like a foreign body infiltrating her immune system, but paradoxically, the angrier she got, the less willing she was to fight it off. “Don’t twist my words, you know I hate when you do that.”

◦◦◦

“I didn’t say she wasn’t allowed to sleep,” Peacemaker clarified, starting to sound a bit agitated as the tensed atmosphere got more and more on his nerves. “I’m simply saying she shouldn’t until we are.”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

◦◦◦

“You said I was hurting him.”

“I said he was often on the wrong end of your temper. Listen, it’s—”

“Back off!”

◦◦◦

“Back off,” Rick sternly admonished him as soon as Peacemaker made a step towards the front of the bus, protectively wrapping an arm around your sleeping form. “She needs to rest. She got shot acting as a distraction so your team could make a smooth entrance, remember?” he reminded the man scornfully.

Peacemaker’s face remained calm in spite of the irritation coloring his eyes. His gaze briefly flickered from you to Flag, hesitating.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

◦◦◦

“You know how you made him feel,” your mother uttered, efficiently putting an end to the exchange.

You remembered the times during which you were moody, when you came back home after having spent the entire day feeling everyone’s emotions around you, when your father did as much as try to talk to you about it, thus instantly setting you off. He was always the spark that ignited you. Whether he was inquiring about your day, or commenting on your behavior, or even just standing a bit too close to you… He’d end up angry, hurt, aggressive – whatever you were feeling at the moment, he’d always end up feeling it too.

Your mother was just wise enough to stay away.

But you also remembered the shouts in the kitchen, the jabs, the constant bickering between them. You remembered listening to it from the stairs and then being blamed for their bad tempers. You’d be blamed for the anger, the aggressiveness, the slaps that so often echoed through the house.

She was wise enough to stay away, and yet be close enough when she’d need an excuse.

“It wasn’t just me,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

“I never said it was.”

“It was you,” you spat out as you whipped your head towards her. “You made him miserable.”

Your eyes were completely focused on her face, her pursed lips and closed-off features, and never once did you notice the way her foot slowly started pressing further onto the accelerator.

◦◦◦

You woke up with a start and instantly casted a frantic gaze around you, expecting the usual blaring horns and shouts that followed this exchange. You were surprised to find yourself in a safe environment, all wrapped up in an unexpected warm, comforting atmosphere. Usually, the second you woke up, your instincts picked up on the foul aura of anguish you had unconsciously secreted into the air, and yet, here, you could feel nothing but utter peacefulness.

One of your eyebrows formed an elegant arch as you lowered your gaze to glimpse at the warm weight wrapped around you, only for your eyes to land on a familiar calloused hand hanging from your shoulder and almost grazing your cheek. You felt a faint smile tenderly pulling at the corners of your lips before even turning your head to confirm the identity of the owner of the arm wrapped around your shoulders, and when you turned your head to direct your gaze towards Flag’s sleeping face, you simply found yourself incapable to fight it off anymore.

Then, with a fond smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you snugly nestled you head back into his side and shut your eyes, this time knowing for a fact that you wouldn’t risk infuse the atmosphere with anything else than a blissful quietude.

◦◦◦

It was chaos. Utter chaos.

Your car was long abandoned a few feet away from you, fuming after having hit another vehicle in the middle of an intersection. The driver who had started fighting with you was now in a fully blown-out fist fight with another man who had merely tried to step in for you, and the more people got out of their cars to understand what was going on, the more people got trapped under your influence and started fighting, some going as far as purposefully ramming their vehicle into another’s.

Your voice was hoarse from shouting at the driver who had first attacked you and you were now trembling with anger as you watched an entire riot unfold before your very eyes, unconsciously fueling it with intense waves of rage that'd hit any innocent that'd happen to walk a bit to close to the scene.

Someone gripped your shoulder and you tried to jerk away from the touch, whirling your head towards the person with your teeth bared, ready to attack whoever was trying to get your attention.

“Honey, focus on me, alright? Focus on me.”

The voice was rough, the tone frenzied, and yet when the hands grasped your shoulders, it was with an unexpected gentleness. The fingers were quivering with restraint, barely managing not to dig into your skin in an attempt to snap you out of it.

This staggering tenderness startled you so much that it managed to take you out of your trance for a fleeting moment, allowing reason to take over as you fought back the instinctive urge to shove the hands away. With frantic, brimming eyes, you diverted your gaze towards your mother, desperate for a comforting point of focus to latch onto like a lifeline.

A sob threatened to crawl up your throat as soon as you met her eyes. There, in the midst of all the hardly concealed anger – a glint of affection, a vacillating spike of tenderness battling to emerge from under all that vibrating rage your mind was forcefully pushing into her. With a choked-up breath of relief, you instinctively stepped forward, latching onto that abiding twinkle of kindness in spite of all that surrounding violence like a lifeline.

Then, when there was an anticipated screeching of tires coming from your side, a glimpse of grey metal flashing out of the corner of your eye, and an oh-so-familiar harrowing feeling of dread seizing your insides, you kept your eyes unwaveringly locked into your mother’s, resolutely shutting out everything else around you. You bored your gaze into hers and let your mind soak in her warmth.

The car never came, the shouts quietened down, your surroundings slowed down until coming to a complete halt, time stalled and your dream mercifully stepped away from your memories to spare you.

You stood there for ages lost into your mother’s loving gaze, until – having strayed too far from reality – your subconscious lost all senses of what was and wasn’t at the time and let the scene morph into whatever your mind desired. Then, when the voice spoke up again, it wasn’t your mother standing before you anymore,  but a person you now trusted more than you ever thought you would.

“Don’t be scared of me.”

 -----

“We need to help these people.”

The words went completely over your head as you despairingly gaped at the glass in front of you, feeling cold to your bones.

You had gotten a bad feeling as soon as the elevator doors had cracked open.

There hadn’t even been time to make a step forward before you had gotten hit by the foul, repugnant thickness sullying the air with a strength that almost had you rearing your head back a bit. For a dizzying second, the vile and nauseating reek had left you standing there, blearily blinking as your senses had desperately struggled to accommodate to the repellent atmosphere. Yet, in spite of the tears brimming at the corners of your eyes just from the sheer despondency emanating from the place, you had been far from imagining the atrocity, the barbarism of the experiments that were taking place down here.

Despite your reluctance, you had been forced to follow the others as they had stalked out of the elevator, engaging into the dark and humid place with feeble, hesitant steps. As you had all crossed the small entrance leading to the laboratory, you had needed to fight your instincts that they had urgently pleaded you to simply whirl around and run back into the elevator.

Every breath you had taken weighed heavily on your tongue, the pungency sticking to the walls of your throat and poisoning your lungs. Every other second you had spent down there had simply felt like another year taken off your life, the wretched atmosphere slowly eating away at your brain like acid.

In spite of all of that, it had taken some time for the horror to truly dawn on you.

The despair had crept into your heart with every step you had made into the cellar, and then, when you had gotten to the center of it, you had felt for the very first time of your life an intense claustrophobia swarming your heart. Surrounded by a sea of decaying bodies all bound together by the same searing, devastating agony, the hostile basement had quickly gone from a gruesome laboratory to a deadly trap slowly closing in on you.

With nothing but wandering bodies all around you, you felt at the bottom of a pit of wretchedness, your head swelling with an intense, overwhelming pain. It was as though you were entrapped in the center of a microwave which was channeling thousands of screams directly towards your brain instead of radiations, however one of them was significantly stronger than the others and seemed to come from the wide glass wall right in front of you.

“Impossible, dear. They’re corpses below those stars.”

In spite of the searing agony flaring through your chest, your heartbeat seemed to slow down and settle onto a numbing, soporific pace as you unconsciously started stepping towards the wide glass, as though bewitched by the heart-wrenching wail you felt coming from whatever was hiding in that liquid.

With trembling, tentative fingers, you lifted your hand and slowly pressed your palm against the freezing glass, yearning to soothe the poor sufferer from their wrenching agony. The pain only seemed to intensify at the touch, the feeling of desolation gripping your insides as your ears started ringing, completely isolating you from the others. There was nothing else in that room but you and a desolated martyr screaming with thousand of voices right into your mind.

You watched with mournful, brimming eyes as the dark figure behind the glass started stirring until a single, colossal eye revealed itself in front of you, appearing emotionless to any common spectator and yet emitting an amount of woe that would’ve had you on your knees had you not gotten so used to sensing people’s emotions.

“Outburst?”

Rick’s voice rose up right behind you but still didn’t startle you, your eyes riveted onto the creature before you with rapt focus.

“It’s in pain,” you croaked out, the faint words scraping your dry throat like some sandpaper grating your vocal cords. “It’s in so much pain.” You shifted your fingers a bit, as if trying to press your hand closer to the glass, get closer to that strange creature, completely blind to the danger it represented. The tentacles, bumps and single eye did not matter – all you could see was the utter suffering it was in.

“Well,” the Thinker unabashedly butted in, “if I’m not mistaken regarding the purpose of your self-righteous egomaniacal mission – not for much longer.”

His words dawned on you with a dry clarity and had you shifting away from the glass in one brisk motion to whirl your head towards Rick. “We can’t kill it,” you asserted with an adamant, steadfast tone that did not match the slight waver in your voice.

“We have orders.”

Rick’s steadfast voice was way more convincing than yours, and what would’ve usually been a mere reminder of his status as colonel felt like a frustrating hindrance that only heightened the desperation swarming your heart and made you let go of the glass to tighten your fists as you turned around to fully face him.

“No, we can’t, we have to help it, it’s—”

“It’s dangerous,” Rick cut you off, his distrust-colored eyes briefly flickering towards the glass wall.

“It’s suffering!”

Your distressed screech echoed through the cellar, your plea painfully reverberating on the walls and splattering the frantic desperation dripping from your tone all around the basement.

For a fleeting moment, Flag remained speechless, as if hit with full force by the intensity of your despair. During that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the hesitation flashing in his eyes, the way he seemed to ponder over the situation for even just a second, wondering what to do and which way to choose. Then, his gaze flickered to the side, briefly meeting Peacemaker’s, and you were able to pinpoint the exact moment he put his guards up again, welding back on his old mask of professionalism to tightly shut out any emotion you could try to induce in him.

There was a subtle shift in his expression, so subtle you might not even have noticed had you not been so desperately seeking any trace of support on his features. Instead of showing the understanding you were so badly hoping for, the traits of his face hardened, the glint in his eyes dimmed, and then you weren’t standing before Rick anymore, you were facing the colonel, towering over you with his back straight and his orders engraved in his mind.

You were acutely aware of the fact that the mission outweighed you; you had just hoped Rick would hold enough respect towards you to give your words the slightest bit of consideration. Apparently, this respect only allowed you one minute of his time before he completely shut you out.

With a sharp, regretful sigh, he took a step towards you and grabbed your arm with a gentle reluctance that contrasted with the harshness of his tone as he said that you needed to go with the other team.

You tried to protest but his strides were long and hasty, and before you even knew it, he was punching the first-floor button of the elevator as you stood inside of it, stunned.

Just as the doors started closing before you, you feebly parted your lips to utter one last plead; your pained, wavering voice coming out laced with betrayal. “You said I could trust you.”

When he had seemed ready to turn away as soon as the doors started closing between you, Rick’s attention seemed to be piqued by your words as he shifted his gaze back onto you, lingering in front of the elevator for just a second more.

The distress coloring your eyes melted into a sullen resignation as soon as your gaze bored into his, your chest constricting with dejection. There, under the thick coat of seriousness, in the midst of all the restrained belligerence this place inspired him, no glint of affection was to be found, no spike of tenderness desperately trying to emerge from the vibrating anger – nothing but cold, glaring callousness.

Not Rick.

Colonel.

-----

“Where’s Flag?”

Bloodsport turned his gaze towards you, and you instantly recognized the apologetic look in his eyes.

As he grimly shook his head, you finally experienced it firsthand – the agony of a thousand people.

-----

“Apparently Waller sent something to his hospital room. People are joking and saying she sent flowers, but if you want my opinion the old hag probably sent him a reminder that his contract doesn’t cover paid sick leaves.”

The voice, just like the steps accompanying it, echoed through the corridor and kept getting closer to your cell, undoubtedly coming from yet another guard who’d attempt to get a word or a reaction out of you – anything that’d stop them from having to book in an appointment with the jail therapist.

You had seen many of them pass by while you had spent days in a temporary cell during your recovery but hadn’t thought they’d keep on sending them after having transferred back in your old cell this morning.

The landscape change didn’t make any difference for you, as you simply kept on staring at the wall for hours on end with the most irksome gloomy look clouding your features.

You couldn’t think about anything else than Rick.

You didn’t think you had even truly processed it yet. It had happened too fast.

Within the span of a few days, the colonel had somehow gained your trust, slowly leading you to warm up to him by showing you an affection you hadn’t experienced in years. It felt like he had turned your world upside down, made everything brighter with the prospect of saving lives alongside a superior who truly valued you, and then you had made the mistake of letting him out of your sight, forced to walk away from that dreadful laboratory for just a few minutes, and he had died there, the one person on this earth who you could genuinely trust now buried under the rumbles in that bottomless pit of agony.

You had mulled over it what felt like a thousand times already and you just could not figure out how to simply go on with your life. Not when your one chance at a brighter future had been squandered so violently as soon as you had turned your back to it.

Somehow, it felt like your fault.

You had been careless, unfocused. You had forcefully dragged Rick’s attention away from the mission at hand only because you were too weak to handle the downsides of your ability, your eyes pathetically overflowing with tears of empathy as the rest of your team simply tried to achieve the mission. You had distracted Rick as that one had been forced to take you to the elevator like a child, had unconsciously helped Peacemaker steal a secret file and forced Cleo to try and stop him on her own before Flag could come to her aid.

The file had been retrieved, but only after Bloodsport had stopped Peacemaker from coldly eliminating Cleo. Only after Rick’s body had already been left laying soundly in the laboratory.

They had fought with all their might for that file, for those values you had accused Flag of lacking merely days ago, and you hadn’t even been there.

It had been crushing to find out that the trust you held towards him had been misplaced, but it was nothing in comparison to discovering he shouldn’t have trusted you either.

You forcefully swallowed back the lump in your throat when you heard the steps finally come to a halt right by your cell and had a hard time concealing the startled look on your face when a very familiar voice rose up.

“Well well well, from what I’ve heard little princess doesn’t want to eat anymore?”

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end at the falsely dulcet tone dripping with a syrupy looking but dangerously abrasive poison. You had to keep yourself from gritting your teeth as your gaze caught up on Griggs’ silhouette standing before your cell from the corner of your eye.

“You’re not even gonna make an effort for me?” he teased you as his lips spread into a sneering smile that made him look more moronic than sadistic due to the absolute lack of sagacity behind his eyes.

You kept your mouth tightly shut and your eyes riveted to the wall across from you, trying to muster the blankest expression you could not to let him affect you but feeling a peeved expression weighing down on your features nonetheless.

“Aww, guys it looks like we’re gonna have to use the feeding tubes,” Griggs ironically groaned, turning towards his colleagues with a facetious glint in his eyes. One of them instantly stepped up to open the door to your cell, not even needing to think twice about the threat just emitted. “You know how much I hate doing that,” he then kept on jeering, much to the amusement of the other guards.

You waited with anticipation as he stepped into the cell, feeling your entire body buzzing with an overpowering apprehension, not having a clue of what you could do but knowing for a fact that with all the adrenaline slowly being spread into your system, there was no way you’d let Griggs go back to his old mistreatment.

His filthy fingers barely grazed your skin, and, as though electrified, you jumped to your feet, putting some distance between you and him. You kept your eyes determinedly fixated in front of you but could see from the corner of your eye how stunned he was by your abrupt reaction. He had gotten to the unresponsive side of you that had emerged after only a few months here, the poor figure staying down on the ground and no longer batting an eyelash at his constant abuse. His face remained dazed for a fleeting moment before the ghost of a smirk reappeared on his features.

After all, he had broken you once, it’d be no bother to do it a second time.

“What, you go on one mission with Task Force X and then you don’t like me anymore?”

He reached out a hand again, much more aggressively this time, and you jolted away, instinctively bringing a hand up without even knowing if you were willing to take the risk of hitting him.

“Step away from her, Griggs.”

The stone cold words loudly rang through the cell and heavily fell between you both, instantly followed by a deafening silence as Griggs’ hand hovered in the air for a fleeting moment, just inches away from the skin of your arm.

Then, for a dizzying, fleeting moment, it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the cell.

Chill shivers of relief racked your spine before your brain even had time to process the voice, and then, when the familiarity of it finally sank in, you felt as though some freezing water had been dumped over you, leaving you soaked and shivering in the middle of your cell – only this time Griggs wasn't the cause of it.

You whirled your head towards the entrance of your cell with a vertiginous speed and had to bite back a choked-up noise from stumbling out of your lips when your gaze landed upon the owner of the voice glowering at Griggs with a murderous look in his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be back yet,” Griggs pointed out sheepishly, letting his arm limply drop to his side now that his focus had been completely taken off of you.

“I was feeling better,” Rick informed him with a tight-lipped smile which then briskly dropped from his features. “Now stand down,” he repeated himself, his voice steadfast and as neutral as he could muster it. “I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you. I’ve seen what you did to her, and I’d love to show you what it feels like to be on the wrong side of the blade.”

The threat made the cell go utterly silent and for just a second, the sweetest second ever, all traces of amusement vanished from Griggs’ suddenly pale face. He looked started, nervous, oh so pathetic, and then when he finally regained his composure enough to quickly muster up the most serious look he could to paint on his pallid features, he had already lost all respect from every occupant of the room.

“You’d risk your job for a bitch who told you to eat shit five minutes into your mission?”

There was an imperceptible twitch on Rick’s features at the reminder. He had to briskly fight off a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, but you could still discern the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes and had to swallow back a choked-up laugh – your heart swarming with a bunch of overwhelming emotions you couldn’t even identify at the moment.

His eyes briefly flickered to you. “Apparently,” he conceded with the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, before he cast his gaze back on Griggs and recovered a cold, severe expression. “And, trust me, given how liked you are around here, I don’t think I’d risk more than a paid leave even if I attempted to murder you.”

Yet another sullen silence fell over the cell like a heavy fog, and this time, Griggs made the wise decision of not shattering it, containing his anger within a single huff before stalking out of the cell with heavy steps that made him akin to a stomping child. His colleagues briefly glanced at Rick, not quite knowing what to do, before meeting his eyes and promptly deciding to follow Griggs’ decision.

“You’re alive,” you breathlessly uttered as soon as you were both left alone.

“A bit roughed up, but yes, alive,” he winced back, turning his gaze towards you.

You knew he couldn’t feel the blissful exultation swarming your heart now that your ability was smothered by the collar secured around your neck, but you hoped he could see it in your eyes and in the way you just couldn’t seem to blink those relieved tears away.

Rick took a few steps towards you and let out a bated breath, as if he was finally allowed to exhale, as if he hadn’t been able to feel comfortable until standing near you again – and you then knew for a fact that if he couldn’t see the exultation in your heart, he at least felt it as well.

Without another word, he then tentatively brought a hand up before letting it hover uncertainly in the air. He seemed hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to act anymore now that his mask of professionalism was gone, and you couldn’t help but let out a short chuckle. This was enough for a single droplet to finally fall from your brimming eyes, and the way Rick’s gaze seemed to soften even more at the sight of it almost led you to shedding a few more.

With utter cautiousness, he brought his hand to your face to brush the stray tear away and then left it there, his warm palm cradling your cheek.

“Looks like I’ve won again,” he said in a breath, the words merely stumbling out of his lips as if he were afraid to break that frail, tender moment of vulnerability between the two of you. His thumb gently stroked your cheek again and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your gaze never once leaving his. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You had once said that the only way for Rick to ever get close to you was for you to give out your last breath, and yet, ever since that very vow you had felt yourself ever-so-slowly opening up to him, as though there was something in the air and it was killing you softly.

Now that the sweet, sweet poison had filled up your lungs – all wrapped up in his arms and boring your gaze into his with a wide-eyed fascination – you chose to completely let go of that vow, braving the risk to perish and merely uttering back two candid, gentle words.

“Pretty please.”

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