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ay0nha · 1 year ago

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Some Unholy War | Theseus Scamander (II)

SUMMARY: You could feel the warmth of your frustration start in your chest, only to spread across your skin as goosebumps. The windchill was harsh, but you appreciated the way Theseus noticed—always so attentive. His desires were written on his face; in any other circumstance, his jacket would become yours.

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, smoking, angst, morally gray reader, mutual pining, semi enemies-to- lovers, always a protective Theseus, SLOW burn, etc.

A/N: If you saw this originally posted...no you didn’t...I didn’t love the flashback I wrote, so I wrote a different one (which is semi-inspired by this post/idea because I love it, such accuracy @star-writes4). Thank You @kalllistos for your patience with me <3 I have such a cute idea for the next chapter, so stay tuned hehehe...Let me know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy.

PART I, PART III, PART IV

— Years prior —

“You can join me inside, you know…” You spoke to your shadow, lighter illuminating your face in the dark alley. On your exhale, you continued your invitation, “...You’ll catch a cold out here.”

After a few heartbeats of hesitation and avoiding the growing puddles, Theseus came into the dingy reflection of the neon sign. “Not convinced my kind is welcomed…”

“Like that’s ever stopped you…” Your tinted lips perked. Theseus' apparel was enough to give away his position. Always so poised. “There are some people I’m sure you’re dying to meet...”

“I’m out of my jurisdiction here.” His hands remained in his pockets, a nervous tick that seemed to run in his family. It was a deceiving behavior, as it came across as a part of his confident stature. “...and overdue for a holiday.”

“Of course.”

Theseus’ hair perked at the humidity. The gel struggled to keep the curls at bay while rain pelted the architecture. The heavy pattern created a cool draft through the outside entryways and a whistling that challenged the music emanating from within the small club.

“Don’t look so stiff, Theseus.” You teased, but he had yet to seem very receptive. “You can be anyone you want here.”

He hummed with genuine nature that briefly peeked out. “And who are you tonight?”

Your eyes were always sharp, cutting through him easily. When you were kids, it was enough to scare him off, but Theseus became fortified. Yet, you knew how he worked just as well. He had a knack for easing you into a conversation riddled with hidden questions and desires. It was as if he softened the blow for something that he knew would end poorly. Your frown began.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Unwavering in your response, you flicked the remnants of your cigarette into the street. Theseus swallowed his scoff at the action, but it only fueled your conviction. “Add it to my list of grievances.”

His gaze was determined, dancing around something obvious. The stack of papers on his desk most likely doubled in his absence. When he saw your name, he was ready to pass it off like any of the others. It hadn’t caught his attention until it ruminated in his mind so long that he spent hours digging through files to confirm that it really was you.

He reminisced about the old school days, expecting clues to reemerge to explain your behavior. Yet, all he could remember was how you were a few years younger—your nose always pointed to the sky in hopes of finding something more interesting than what was before you. The faded memories merged together the longer Theseus dwelled on them.

“You want to know what I think?” He prodded, waiting for your hum of encouragement. You wore a dress made for dancing, and your lips were painted a sinfully alluring shade of red. Theseus almost succumbed to the distraction. “You’re someone out of their depth.”

There it is, you thought. The pleasantries would only last for so long until Theseus tallied your faults. You knew it was part of a greater protective character, but you’d evolved, and he favored ignoring your independence.

“Oh, Theseus…” You tutted with a sore smile, arms locked together with defensiveness. “...and here I thought you missed me.”

“What have you gotten yourself into?” He moved closer to you, trying to soothe your frown. Holding back from reaching out, Theseus persisted, “If you have a time-turner—

“We’re not in school anymore.” The argument felt juvenile, but you spat your words quickly, unwilling to meet your sentence. “I can handle myself.”

The situation was ironic due to how time ruled the very encounter. It was only a matter of time until Theseus latched onto the rumor that brought him here. And there was only so much time left before his warning would become a threat. The possession of such an item had added weight to your shoulders. It was a new sensation, and the buzz of adrenaline that came with it was irredeemable. It only worsened when you learned it came easily to you. It was a genuine skill.

You could feel the warmth of your frustration start in your chest, only to spread across your skin as goosebumps. The windchill was harsh, but you appreciated the way Theseus noticed—always so attentive. His desires were written on his face; in any other circumstance, his jacket would become yours. But you cut him off before he could offer, clipping the argument with the truth.

“It is nice to see you, Theseus.” Just not like this, you omitted. “How’s Newt?”

“Still finding himself in all sorts of…well—you know how Newt…” His hands returned to his pockets as he shuffled slightly. “...those creatures…His creatures are doing well, I suppose…it’s always a fine way of passing time…”

Theseus wasn’t one to ramble nor participate seriously in small talk. Yet, with you mitigating the conversation, it was hard to ease back into what he had come for. Your change in topic wasn’t a distraction at all, just another dig at Theseus’ character.

“You should learn to take people more seriously.” You bit at your own defense veiled by his brother’s prospects. “Maybe then, you’d get what you want.”

The forgotten rain began to pick up. A soft spray that snuck past the protection of the awning begged for you to find warmth inside. You refused to curl into yourself. Instead, you pushed yourself off the brick wall to brush everything into the past.

“Enjoy your holiday, Theseus.”

“Look—” Stopped by your arm, Theseus paused with thought. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know what I’m doing.” You were softer this time, but your furrowed brow still exposed your upset. But it relaxed as Theseus's hand trailed your arm to find your hand.

“I don’t doubt that.” He spoke earnestly.

Quietness followed the slight embrace that you broke after a small squeeze. The contact allowed Theseus to speak freely, but you wouldn’t listen to more. You knew what he would say, and that was enough.

“Let me buy you a drink.” You blamed the barflies stumbling out the door beside you for your sentimentality. Theseus gave you a tentative look you knew you could break. “Just the one…And if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you what I know.” It was a promise. “I’m feeling charitably inclined tonight.”

The tips of Theseus’ fingers continued to tingle despite their loneliness. His pockets felt cold. “And why’s that?”

“I’ve met someone.”

— Present Day —

You hadn’t believed in love, and you were ready to carry that grudge—until him.

Avery Sinclair.

It wasn’t proper love, proving your skepticism in the emotion correctly. But it was the closest you’ve ever been, would ever be. He charmed you with his intelligence but decidedly made pearl dust a main ingredient in your relationship. It ensured your vision was so muddled you were willing to sacrifice yourself for him. Avery determined your demise before you could even pick up a scent.

The auror, he had told you. Rid us of him.

To this day, the memory was disillusioned by your coerced fidelity. The memory was more of an overlapping feeling. It was like your body wasn’t your own, stepping into an event without an invitation. You could still feel the heat of the fire you started and the desperation of your scream when you were pushed to your knees. Even then, you failed to remember things coherently.

Yet, when your vision finally cleared, only Aurors surrounded you. Theseus fronted the brigade with a grimace that reflected his disdain. You hadn’t known the expression was a mix of pity and guilt due to the fact that his name would be inherently tied to your public conviction. You just felt like you could finally breathe without a struggle.

“Did you hear me?” Theseus prompted you again, pulling you out of a shared past. He noted your gaze drifting, a thousand-yard stare replacing a genuine exchange. “Listen carefully; we only have so much time until—

“This is what your promotion got you.” You observed the spacious office you’d been in. Your tone asked if it was worth it. Your value was reflected in the fine leather seats, the expensive wood desk, and the plaque that named Theseus’ higher position.

Those who transported you expected catastrophe, but you entrusted your silence. You were calculated enough to know when to hold your tongue, but once in the atrium of the Ministry, you could no longer sit so stoically.

Theseus went to say your name, imploring you to focus, but you only challenged him. He held your stare just as strongly, “You underestimate the scale of this.”

“As if that matters...” You frowned only to follow with deeply rooted sarcasm, “...in a system that is so fair and competent.”

Your words were your only defense against something so factual. Although you were in danger, it had yet to actualize and frighten you as it had Theseus. To him, you were ready to give up, engage entirely with the peril Sinclair would unleash. Your indifference only confirmed his sentiments.

Theseus began to pace. With each step, he attempted to restrain his insults. How you looked at him only provoked a wave of pent-up anger, “You have always been so cruel…”

“If I'm cruel, then what does that make you, Theseus?” You were ready for the conversation; your thoughts honed and practiced. “If I'm cruel, then you must be something much worse.”

“I'm trying to help you.” His voice was low, afraid those whispering about your presence—capture—would overhear his admission. In time, you’d learn that his words were genuine, that he was risking more than you realized.

“No.” You spoke definitively, head shaking with refutation. “What you do is selfish. You help with a suffocating hand—

“You don’t get to make this my fault. You chose him.” The silence to follow echoed his regret. You eyed his uncharacteristic agitation as he tried to rectify his mistake.

“Theseus!” A voice boomed, entering the office. Torquil Travers. “There you are, now—This is her?” With a passing look of disgust, he let out another booming statement. “Have you located Sinclair?”

“Yes, sir.” Theseus’ bluntness evaporated the previous argument. Yet, his eyebrow twitched. The micro expression revealed too much. His body contradicted his words.

You rolled your eyes at the formality. After all these years, Theseus still couldn’t shake the nickname that followed him during his younger years—Schoolboy hero.

Suck up, you thought.

“Ensure this gets done.” Travers’ attitude indicated he felt the time in Theseus’ office was already wasted. “Quietly.”

Theseus held a tight-lipped smile. “Of course, sir.”

Time, too, was his concern, and it became obvious the longer Travers remained in his office. You wanted answers of your own, but you could be patient as there were more pressing desires.

“These come off.” You said evenly, gaining the attention of those in the room. Yet, Travers looked around as if your voice was foreign and your presence was no more than a nuisance.

His posture straightened with arrogance, prompting Theseus, “Handle that.”

That. Your position was clarified. You were no longer a person, no longer a witch. You were—that. Theseus felt ill, agreeing once again to his boss’ request before he left. Theseus intentionally kept his back to you, trying to form the words that explained what he had to do—what he was assigned to do. Handling that meant telling you the cuffs were to stay on.

Emotion flooded your chest; you missed your isolation. Solitude made things simpler. Though now there was no choice. You were to be bait; you were meant to lure Sinclair in. It was Theseus’ idea, only as a form of protection and to bide time for him to figure out something more promising.

With a hand tucked in his waistband and the other rubbing across his jaw in thought, Theseus stared ahead at his desk. He seemed at a loss and could only resort to honesty. “I want you to trust me.”

You did. You had. You relied on him in the past. At one point, you would have considered him the only one that had the privilege. You thought he had understood that. Your relationship had naturally ebbed and flowed. It was required when you were such opposites, but mutual respect helped it remain.

Theseus promised he wouldn’t follow you that night, but that was the same night he was no longer a man of his word. For your own good, his own remark nauseated him. It had felt so right at the moment, a moment of long-coming justice, but it was not only a trap for you but for him.

He would never fall for it again. With a weak rasp of the knuckles to his desk, Theseus’ mind settled. His side was chosen.

Coming close, he crouched down to your seated level. You remained still, his motions far too interesting to pull away. He began trailing your arms until he reached the metal at your wrists. “...You’re not safe with them on.”

You'd grown so accustomed to the weight of the bracelets on your wrists. They weighed you down in every way you could imagine. You learned to move with them smartly, using your magic so strategically that it felt like a chore rather than an extension of yourself. And now, seeing your wrists empty, you fought off a misplaced nostalgia.

You had never meant to become the villain. You just didn't know what else to do.

Theseus watched as your eyes welled with emotion, knowing you’d never let actual tears form. He thought to move forward and bring any sort of comfort to the situation, but you moved quicker than the thought was formed.

“No!–Don’t—”

His breath was lost, the world around him dissolving into a deep color. Your hand gripped his collar, but it felt like he was being pressed hard from all directions. The journey was nauseating and familiar. The surroundings no longer reflected the Ministry, the marble flooring was replaced by puddles, and the air was no longer crisp but heavy with humidity.

Your laugh bubbled, starting slowly with the feeling of surprise that evolved into pure joy. You refused to be tracked by your magic, so you typically abstained. The feeling of magic again was like a feeling of renewal—an electricity that scratched a phantom itch.

You glanced at a flushed Theseus, “...Remember this place?”

#q #theseus scamander #theseus #scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander fluff #theseus scamander angst #theseus scamander x f!reader #fantastic beasts fic #fantastic beasts #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #slow burn #FUCK jkr #fuck terfs

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edosianorchids901 · 1 year ago

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We're In This Together

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "found family"

“And don’t forget,” Satan said, flat black eyes pinning Crawley and the other demons in place. “We found each other even in the Pit, cast out from the light of Heaven. We’re all in this together.”

Crawley’s legs buckled as the gaze focused, the weight of Satan’s anger at the whole universe pressing down. Pain shot through Crawley, and he gritted his teeth.

Satan loomed closer to their group. “And anyone strays from our new path, we will find them again. We’re all a family now, and disloyalty will not be tolerated.”

Another wave of pain, a vicious threat. Bitterness rising, Crawley struggled to keep his expression neutral as they all chorused agreement. In Heaven, Satan had encouraged questions, challenging authority, stepping out of line. Now…

“And you, my darling little Crawley.” Satan approached him, and Crawley fell to his knees with a gasp of pain. “You’ve excelled at your duties, so you’ll be returning to Earth. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that you’re any less a part of this family.”

Crawley didn’t want to be part of any “family”. The Archangels had said similar shit, shortly before they kicked him into free fall for asking questions. Hell was no better. He just wanted to be on his own.

But he bowed his head, shivering. “Of course, my Lord. I’ll… keep excelling, yeah?”

“Of course you will. You know better than to disappoint me.” A fresh wave of anger, and Crawley whimpered. “Don’t you, darling?”

“Yeah, I… definitely don’t wanna disappoint you, or anyone else. I’ll just pop back to Earth, then. Get to work. Got loads of work to do, ideas of tempting things to… tempt people with.” Crawley tried to cut off the panicked babbling and failed. “You know how it is, all those ideas. Gotta try ‘em out, see what works. But the humans are being really fruitful, multiplying, all that jazz. Got plenty of people to test temptations on.”

Satan gave an indulgent laugh and patted Crawley on the head, eerily reminiscent of a human parent. Then, reminiscent of the worst human parents, he struck Crawley hard across the face.

Crawley slammed into cold stone, wheezing, tears welling. Blood trickled from his throbbing nose. He just laid there, waiting for Satan to move off and torment someone else.

No. He definitely did not want to be part of a family.

Crawley went back to Earth. He chose a spot under the shade of date palms, far enough away from any humans. Then he sank down to the sand, wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his knees up to his chest, and surrendered to the violent trembling that so often hit after visits to Hell.

His breaths turned quick and shivery, not drawing enough air. Tears stung his eyes again, and he huddled tighter. The trembling grew worse and worse, so convulsive that his teeth clacked together.

The rapid beat of his heart surged faster, racing. He rocked, desperate, gasping. “Nonono, please, please…”

There was never any help. There could never be any help. The price of keeping everyone at a distance, of staying safe, was that no one would ever help him.

He shook more and more violently, until he couldn’t even stay upright. Pain crushed his chest, and he crumpled onto his side. He curled tighter, tears pouring down his cheeks now, frantic sobs tearing loose.

“Crawley?”

Crawley tried to scramble away from the voice, but he only succeeded in sprawling more haphazardly in the sand. “Stay away from me! Get the fuck back!”

“Oh!” The voice sounded upset—and familiar. Aziraphale. “Oh, dear fellow, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“I don’t… I can’t… breathe.” The tears fell harder, and Crawley curled up again. His whole soul ached with longing to call out for help, but how could he? How could he trust anyone to help, even an angel who had always been kind to him? He wasn’t in it together, not with anyone.

But Aziraphale moved closer, sandals crunching across the sand. He sank to his knees in front of Crawley, kind face rumpled with concern. “May I help?”

Crawley opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off, and sobbed instead. “I don’t know. No one… ever helps…”

He bit off the words, bracing for a blow. Every time he’d been around anyone, seeming kindness quickly turned to unexplained cruelty. Especially when he was stupid enough to be vulnerable.

“Oh, you poor dear! Hush now. It’s okay.” Slowly, Aziraphale sat beside him. Crawley flinched. “I won’t harm you, shh. Here, why don’t you put your head in my lap? Or you can curl up here, and I could hold you?”

Crawley gave him a suspicious look. “Why?”

“It’s what humans do, when someone is scared. I-I like watching the families.” Aziraphale ducked his head a little, as if the admission made him embarrassed. “They always seem to like physical contact.”

Crawley’s only recent experience with physical contact was being struck or beaten for no damn reason. But something tugged at his heart as he listened to Aziraphale. “Sounds nice, but m’ kinda… frozen.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. It is an awfully chilly wind, isn’t it?” Aziraphale laid down beside him. Crawley flinched, but the violence never came. Instead, Aziraphale curled around him, holding him close. “There, how’s that? Warmer?”

Oh gosh, he was sweet. Crawley didn’t have the air to correct him, so he just nodded. Shuddering still wrenched through him, the terror of Hell too much to chase off even with help. He’d have to wait for it to subside on its own, like always.

But being held did feel better. Family might not be so bad, if it was made up of just the two of them.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

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captains-simp · 4 years ago

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Carol Danvers ~ Infuriating

Carol Danvers X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 8,016

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

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God you definetly did.

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

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

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

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

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

"They almost did anyway."

"Almost."

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

Once a vigilante always a vigilante.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Carol!" You protested in disbelief and annoyance.

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

"Like hell I will." You groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No." You lied shakily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who are you begging to make you cum?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why should I let you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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depressed-teacup-inc · 2 years ago

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Wow these episodes are releasing fast

Yes hi determination released I know I’m late but I’m here now, let’s talk about this show.

First and foremost, I would like to congratulate all the love square shippers for finally having the love square reverse! Like, I’m not the biggest fan, and as I’ve said before in my reviews of the recent season 5 episodes, this relationship has been so many shades of messed up for me that I’m past the point of ever rooting for them and them getting together just leaves a sour taste in my mouth as it ignores all the messed-up-ness of this dynamic

Alsoooo because I’m a pessimist, I will point out that I’m worried this thing won’t last? Like no offense this show is known to be episodic and inconsistent as hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the show just put this thing in one episode and will kinda ignore it? Or quickly turn back to the status quo of things

That’s my pessimist ass talking tho✨

Speaking of, an I the only one that feels like this season is not even the original show anymore? Like, up until now, despite miraculous being absurd as hell, it always felt like a part of the original show, but season 5, with a combination of the love square fixing immediately (despite the last four seasons of unresolved fucked up shit) and the rings still breaking every miraculous rule, this honestly feels like cursed fanfic at this point!

Also this might be me being petty as fuck, but the amounts of times the show makes the “bad people” of the show rightfully say how Marinette fucked up in season 4 to have all the good guys of the show tell her she’s fine and what she did was totally not fucked up is giving how people will only criticize marinette for being obsessed with Adrien during Lila episodes (aka if the bad guys are encouraging the good things, then the good things must automatically be bad too, and anyone who thinks otherwise is also bad)

Like hell even adrien’s no longer feels like a character! I liked seeing him doubt ladybug and have ideas of his own in previous seasons, but nowadays it feels like his one person is to be the love interest! Like even his entire modeling struggling with his father has been “solved” so Adrien feels like he has been fully downgraded to love interest.

But I’m getting off track, this is an episode analysis

Reverse love square neat but sus, marinette tries to lie to Adrien to not deal with her problems and force him with Kagami (why is she better then Lila again?) the wax museum WAS ROMANTICIZED (the show really fucking went “no no kids, he was uncomfortable at the prospect of marinette sniffing him and trying to kiss his statue, he was into that and just didn’t understand it yet” INTO WHAT??? NO CONSENT???) and should not have been mentioned again, the day is saved over a fucking technicality (yeah like we didn’t need the Ladybug miraculous to be more OP, now while it’s technically a magical power it’s also not and therefore even if you’re invulnerable to magic she wins) and…

LUKA I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU, WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?!

The two characters that were either done dirty enough or had no character which I believed would not fucking force things… FORCED THINGS??? I hate everything

(Also real quick, my theory is because Marinette’s still ogling Adrien for hours, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m a few episodes she’s like “No I have the right to live Adrien” and go back to stalking him but this time it’s fine because ADrIen’s InTO IT)

But yeah that’s my review, the akuma this episode looked like a candle and entire episode made me cringe from embarrassment more than anything

Also someone edit Adrien’s line to “I don’t know why but I want to be in Marinette’s place” for the gays to have scraps

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fandom #adrien agreste #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #ml rants #ml season 5 #ml spoilers #they really went “lemme ruin Luka real quick for y’all

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alisonsfics · 3 years ago

Text

scare you away

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: steve rogers has always been someone you looked up to. you always ignored your romantic feelings for him because he was much older than you. when he starts ignoring you, you realize you can’t hide your feelings anymore. (requested by anon)

word count: 1.6k

warnings: significant age gap, swearing

You walked into the kitchen, still only barely awake. You were greeted by Steve, who was chopping up an apple for breakfast. “Someone’s tired” he said, smirking as he looked over at you. You just leaned into his side, too tired to hold yourself up.

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You were so small in comparison to the muscular super soldier. You felt the butterflies appear in your stomach, just like they always did when Steve was around.

It was a stupid crush. He was old enough to be your dad even if you ignored the fact that he was technically over a hundred years old. You knew that he probably thought of you as just a kid.

What you didn’t know about was the huge crush Steve had on you. It made him feel horrible and creepy. You were so young and innocent, and he was an old man lusting over you. He was raised in a time where it was taboo to marry someone that was more than five years younger/older than you, but there he was: in love with a nineteen year old.

“Do you want to spar after breakfast?” He suggested, really only desperate for any excuse to see you. You slowly nodded your head. Your sleepiness was visible to the eye, from your half-open eyes to how you were practically moving in slow motion.

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle and point towards the coffee machine. “I made coffee. It might wake you up” he said, amused as he watched your eyes light up.

You quickly walked over to the cabinet and reached for a coffee mug. You struggled to reach, even on your tiptoes. “Here you go, sweetheart” Steve said, easily grabbing it and handing it to you.

Once the coffee had passed your lips, you felt ready for the day. He handed you a bowl of apple slices. “Is this where you give me a lecture about how important breakfast is?” You teased, gladly accepting the bowl.

A small grin slipped onto his lips. To him, you were the human form of perfection. He loved hearing you giggle or watching you get excited. All of your silly jokes managed to put a smile on the old man’s face.

“I still hate that they made me do those dumb high school videos. They just made me seem like an old man” he said. You loved to tease him about those videos. It was a nice little inside joke that the two of you had.

You both ate together in quiet silence. Once you finished, you jumped down off your stool. “I’ll take care of your dishes” Steve volunteered, already taking them from you. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

“Thanks. I’ll go get changed and meet you in the training room?” You suggested. He nodded in agreement, giving you a peck on the top of your head. You froze, shocked by the sudden action. He quickly apologized and bashfully looked down at the ground.

You felt the heat radiating off your cheeks as you walked back to your room.

Steve had always been a mentor to you, and you both were normally pretty affectionate. It wasn’t out of the normal for you two to be cuddling and watching a movie on a Friday night. There were sometimes when things would get a bit too affectionate, whether it was a kiss on the forehead or holding hands.

He always left you with a fluttering feeling and a schoolgirl smile on your face.

You grabbed a sports bra and some leggings out of your dresser and got changed. After throwing your hair into a ponytail, you headed down to the training room. You didn’t normally opt for a sports bra, but all of your athletic tank tops were dirty. So, you threw a light jacket over your sports bra.

You saw Steve through the giant glass windows. He was already lifting some weights. You opened the door, and he looked up to meet your eyes. He greeted you with a small smile.

When he turned around to set down his weights, you took the opportunity to admire his back muscles. You set down your workout bag and unzipped your jacket, throwing it on top of your bag.

Steve turned around to face you, and you saw his eyes go wide. You noticed his eyes roll down your body. Then, he forced himself to look up at your face. “I—ummm. I’m sorry” he mumbled over his words.

His cheeks were on fire as his face became bright red. He didn’t know where to look, so he settled for the floor. He was too ashamed to look into your eyes, but couldn’t stare at your body anymore.

“Actually...I can’t—I mean, I have to go,” his words were rushed and frantic. He didn’t even pick up his bag before quickly jogging out of the door. You were left all alone.

You looked back at where he had just stood, feeling nothing but confusion. You didn’t even know what to think. He hadn’t said much of anything before running out the door.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and went back to your room. You set your stuff back on your bed and heard people talking outside your door. You peeked out the door and saw Steve talking to Tony, Nat, Wanda, and Sam, who were all sitting on the couch.

You kept your door only cracked open, so they couldn’t see you. “Oh come on. Just tell her how you feel. It’s better than running around avoiding her” Natasha told him. Steve put his head in his hands. He had no idea what to do.

“She probably knows anyway. You aren’t exactly the most subtle. You two and your little movie nights” Sam said, chuckling. You wondered if Steve liked you and that’s what they were talking about. “You knew about that?” Steve’s cheeks became an even darker shade of red.

You could hear Wanda and Natasha whispering to each other about how cute you both looked when you were cuddling. You could feel your heart racing.

Did Steve really like you?

“Come on, Cap. How do you feel about her? Do you love her?” Tony asked, aiming for a serious answer.

The room was quiet for a moment. You thought they could hear your heart pounding as it rang in your ears. You stepped into the room, so you could hear better. They all saw you, but didn’t make any gesture so Steve wouldn’t know.

“Of course I’m in love in her. I think about her all the time. How could I not? She's the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and I love being around her. I love how she giggles when she tells jokes, and how she gets flustered when anyone compliments her. But at the end of the day, I am so much older than she is. She’d probably think I’m a creepy old man if she knew how I felt. She definitely doesn’t feel the same way, so what the fuck am I supposed to do?” He asked, running his hand through his blonde hair.

You couldn’t form the words to respond.

“Steve?” your voice sounded weak and vulnerable. He spun around and met your eyes. You saw the panic wash through him. “Oh shit” he mumbled to himself.

You could only think of one thing to say. “Is all of that true?” You asked him, still having a hard time believing. He nodded, but hung his head in shame.

“We’ll give you both a minute” Wanda said, before they all exited the room. You walked closer to Steve, but he still couldn’t look you in the eye. “Look at me” you said, softly.

His big blue eyes met yours, and you could see all of his worry. “So do you think I’m creepy yet?” His voice broke. You let your fingers slip through his, interlacing your hands. His eyes darted to your hands.

“I don’t think you’re creepy. I think you’re kind of cute” you said, bashfully. He tilted his head towards the side, confused by your words.

You watched his eyes glance down at your lips. “Can you just kiss me already?” You practically begged him. He chuckled before slipping his arms around your waist. He leaned in and slowly connected your lips.

He hesitantly pressed his lips against yours. Your grinned as you noticed his nervousness. You slid your tongue against his bottom lip, encouraging him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the ends of his hair. You both pulled away as you heard whistling. You looked over your shoulder and saw Sam watching you both.

“Come on, let’s go” Steve said, taking your hand and pulling you towards your room.

Sam wolf whistled again at the both of you. “Ignore him” Steve whispered in your ear, before closing the door behind you.

You laid down on your bed and pulled him down with you. “How about we watch a movie?” You suggested, running your fingers through his hair.

He nodded his head before adjusting himself on the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard, and let you sit in between his legs with your back against his chest.

You ran your fingers up and down his legs beside you as you started the movie. He pressed a kiss to your temple.

“So why did you run out of the training room this morning?” You asked, glancing back at him. He chuckled to himself before answering you. “The sight of you in that sports bra. I felt like a creep ogling at you. I knew I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to freak you out” he told you, scratching the back of your neck.

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “I wish you would’ve told me that. I was having a hard time not staring you, Mr. Muscles” you teased, leaning into his touch.

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rnisa · 2 years ago

Note

What’s your take on A and B’s backstory? Especially A, how do you characterize him? Also please accept my drawing of them!

WAIT HOLY SH-

I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS AT ALL!!! Your artwork is REALLY fucking good. Your lighting and shading is off the charts - especially the gradient effect, that's something I really like to see. I love how you draw masculine features, the eyes came out very nice. Also thank you for your question, I apologize for the hell you've unleashed as I just do not stop talking -- Warnings for way too much nonsensical rambling ahaha. Anyways, my thoughts are below, what are yours?

As far as A's backstory, I sadly have not put much thought into it. I can't recall if it was confirmed A was male or female but I liked to think A was female, as a break from the 90% male cast, honestly. I feel very badly for A. As someone who has struggled with s*icide ideation growing up, it always hurts my heart when young children go through with it. Words can't express the feeling... no child should be pushed to that breaking point. Anyways, A was deeply troubled and had so much pressure, and clearly they saw no way out of their situation. They saw death as their only 'freedom'. Wammy's doesn't sound like the most ethically-run place, but I'll save my thoughts on that for another day.

The only thoughts I have are that I do believe B loved A - for no reason other than I love a traumatic love story. It was unrequited, but B didn't care - he loved A and didn't need A to love him back. He was happy just being around A and was perfectly fine being "best friends forever". I wouldn't even classify it as romantic love, just...you genuinely and unapologetically love this person, and love having them in your life, no matter how that is. No...this love wasn't just black-and-white. Sorry if I'm not making, any sense.

Other than that, I haven't thought of A all that much - so if you have any headcanons, please feel free to submit them. I encourage it and I'd love to read it. Or just @ me in your own posts about it so I could not miss it, if you'd like.

As far as B goes, my thoughts on him have changed quite a bit since re-reading LABB (I had done some headcanons about a month ago before refreshing my memory, so some things I said, I'd like to take back). We know that B was born with the Eyes, but of course, there's no way he could have known what they were, so it took him a while to really understand what it meant. Let's assume by now, he's seen enough death in his life - even indirectly so, such as watching the news - and being as smart as he is, was able to figure out that he was special. At first, before he figured out that seeing numbers and names above peoples' heads wasn't normal, he creeped out his parents by asking, "What do those numbers mean?". He was taken to a few doctors before realizing that it wasn't normal, and at least once was being medicated for a mental illness he didn't actually have. Eventually, once he learned that what he could see was not normal, he lies by admitting that he was just joking. After all, he didn't want to be locked away. Just knowing that he was special, and nobody around him could understand, would be enough to torment anyone. I do think that B felt completely and utterly alone.

I feel like his parents had a strained relationship and at least one of them wasn't around much - I'd like to think he didn't feel much when one of the two died - but the other, he begged not to leave, not to go outside that day, and...well, they did. He felt cursed. He knew that there was something supernatural about him. He had no knowledge of the Death Note, of the existence of Shinigami, but he was just...different.

Now of course, he felt crazy. Part of him wondered if he really was sick, in some way, but what could he do? He struggled. And then, he was taken to Wammy's. The place for "gifted children". Now, we have no backstory of how Wammy found ANY of these goddamned kids, but let me pull something out of my ass real quick for B. I honestly think that he might have specifically requested, if not traveled by foot to the orphanage itself and said, "I'm special, let me live here." If anything, because he had nobody else to take him in. I think he'd do what he could to prove his worth and live there, but either way, Wammy noticed something special was about him. He didn't tell Wammy that he could see lifespans, or see names. He just pulls up saying his full, real name and that was enough to both unnerve and make Wammy curious. B was special after all, so he took him in. The orphanage wasn't great, but it was a place to stay. He'd have food, shelter, and access to comforts he didn't even have while his parents were alive.

And then he met A. As B climbs up the ranks, it's clear he's the "backup". In case A fails. B honestly, didn't care for L at first. He didn't give a single shit, he wanted his own path. What that is, is up to you - but he did not plan on becoming L.

I think B had always been drawn to violence. He'd always been curious about death and by this point, was not afraid of it. His fascination had him buying books, searching the internet, for gore...all in the name of science. He was intrigued by what the human body was capable of, the various stages of decomposition... he was a strange one. If it weren't for Wammy's and the whole L thing, I think he'd've gone on to become an incredible surgeon. Gore, death and blood were not frightening to him, it didn't make his stomach churn. Sure he'd enjoy helping people, but the opportunity to cut people up wasn't all that bad to him either. He'd enjoy the work.

As we know, that isn't how things play out, and he becomes a serial killer...I think A's death was his final tipping point. The final event that just...caused him to snap. He hated L. He hated how A killed themself while trying to become good enough for L. B loved A, and would never forgive L.

#sorry i got so distrracted #death note #beyond birthday #very amazing art #ask #headcanon

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bibliocratic · 4 years ago

Text

clear the area jonmartin, post-MAG200 content warnings in the tags

They earn their ending. A happy-ever-after beyond the gaze of any eyes.

Jon endures his abdication. This world has no Archivists, has need of none, the thankless crown of Knowing finally unburdened from his shoulders. The blood washes off Martin’s hands with soap and scrubbing and scalding water. They live.

The end. In conclusion. Fin.

Jon’s new scar, the packaging of his skin split ragged from collarbone to sternum, fades like sun-caught paint. A maw of red pursing to a gummy primrose pink, settling into a rough cartography of white.

The first few months are hard. Brimstone flare-up silences and ice-pick shouting, open-handed forgiveness and closed-fist weeping. They drain themselves to husks with anger and worry and grief until there is enough space for better things to grow there in their stead. Jon’s nightmares were a nightly stormfront to bear, sweated sheets and dawn fanfares of panic and dread, but he is learning now, with the space for his ribs to expand, that it is ok for them to breathe here.

Jon digs up the garden with a rusty trowel until it is a bumpy canvas of mulch and soil, dirt tucked under his fingernails and decorated with smudges up to his elbows. He hums while he irons their shirts in front of the television, thoughtless and senseless with tune.

Martin has tried to, but the sound goes down the wrong way.

Martin is happy.

It isn’t the sight as such, that might sit as a film over his vision to tinge his waking sepia. The reddest thing they own is a terracotta plant plot brimming with raggedy thyme that lives a precarious cliff-top existence on the kitchen windowsill. He observes Jon’s face in all its variations, even pained – when he snags splinters in his fingers, when he stubs his toe on the stone front step and swears damnation – and his response is sympathy tempered by admonishment.

It’s not the sensation, not really, that might tremble on his skin. Martin’s palms tend to dryness inside their homely bubble of creaky central heating, hemmed in by boisterous coastal winds. He handles bread knives and butter knives and steak knives and carving knives without the muscle memory of other blades, and he thinks he might be getting pretty handy with his oven experimentation.

It’s the sound. It wakes him, the noise lingering like the echo of a slap.

The slick punch of metal into muscle. A tooth-bared, tense-jawed gasp.

Resurfacing to shocked consciousness, he would be seized by a frenzy, to know, to check. His scattering hand scrabbling for the lamp with such force he hit it off the nightstand to roll in a giddy clatter, throwing off the covers to rapidly pollute both of them with the outside air. Jon would be rocked from sleep, groggy, panicked, and Martin’s words would not come, a train of thought trying to race full steam where no one had laid tracks, so it would be just the two of them, exhausted and upset and amping the other up in misery.

Now, upon his rousing, Martin knows not to turn on the light. He does not check. The aftermath of punch-gasp curls in his ear, and he inhale-exhale-inhales with the ferocity of mantra, and clamps the threatened tears in the clench of his teeth.

He does not wake Jon.

“How did you sleep?”

“Oh, you know me. Like a log.”

He is happy. He is. Why wouldn’t he be?

Jon rumbles like a rusty mechanism with snoring whenever he drops off on his back, and he mumbles accusatory when Martin coaxes him to his side. Martin finds black hairs on his pillowcase, in the shower plug. Jon is a vista of experience since the Eye left him, who gets hungry and tired and grumpy and drunk and silly and fed-up and giggly. Jon searches him out with the surety of magnets, and loves him, loves him, loves him. He seals kisses to Martin’s new landscape of extensive scars. Their disagreements, when they surface, are as meaningful and lasting as stones skipped on water.

Martin wanted this. He wants this. The rhythms of domesticity fading to foam on an untroubled shore.

He is out of practise with happiness, that’s all. It doesn’t come to him like breathing. He needs to till the earth of it, shelter its seeds from a thousand circling crows until it bears harvest.

He just has to try harder.

Night-time.

An episode or two of something simple, Jon nodding off like a capsizing ship before the credits. Encouraging him up in grousing, unwilling increments, rubbing out the nettle sting of pins and needles up his own arm. Check the locks, the light switches. Brush teeth. Pyjamas. Put his phone to charge, read until Jon succumbs to sleep. Click the light off, pushing Jon onto his side so his mouth doesn’t dry. Jon squirming around like a fastidious octopus until he has at least half his limbs hooked over Martin.

The dark creating shadow play. In the absence, Martin colouring in the gaps with lurid shades of disaster.

A creak – the rattle of a door downstairs, an intruder unfastening the back door, transferring their weight upon the staircase. A unfamiliar scent – the recollection of smoke-stench in his nostrils, the acrid promise of gas, the ferrous pungency of blood. The rain will flood their house to drown them. The wind will blow their roof in. Jon hooks his leg around Martin, the skin void of hair where Daisy’s mouth had almost torn it off, and all he can envision is the ways this could be destroyed as he watches.

Bundle Jon close. Ignore the rain, the itch at the bottom of his stomach, the queasy roil of his fear. Drift into unkind sleep populated with its garden of earthly terrors.

Martin is… not happy. Not exactly. And that’s fine. It’s fine.

Jon is happy.

Jon, rubbing at the compression lines around his hips, the accusatory splay of the top button refusing to budge closed:

“I can’t fit into my jeans.”

Martin enfolds him from behind, planting his palms over the slight paunch of Jon’s stomach, filled out through sensible eating and small indulgences and a hunger that will never be ravenous but has restored its human qualities.

“Hmm. It’s a good look on you. Healthier.”

“Or it’s middle age.”

“Or it’s eating things that aren’t tea and meal-deal sandwiches.”

“Or other people’s terror.”

“Oh yes, you’re right, I completely forgot about your subsistence diet of eldritch and unbidden horrors in a luscious wholegrain wrap, forgive me.”

Jon laughs at that. The sound has not yet lost its novelty for either of them.

He shifts, turns, his arms a buoy around Martin’s stomach.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Must be all the clean air,” Martin quips. “All that healthy living.”

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

Martin wakes up.

When his heart has wound down from the pace of its gallop, he extricates himself from Jon’s grip. It is a laborious task to find the places where they’ve joined in the night and pull them apart, like separating fabric snagged on rosebushes.

He gets some water from the cold tap in the kitchen. Sits heavily on the sofa, the room cossetted by the gloom.

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

His hands shake.

He doesn’t go back to bed.

He isn’t happy, but he could grow to be. He could. He could. He just isn’t trying hard enough.

Some days, he feels like he’s waiting for the ice to give under them.

Check the passers-by as they walk. Anyone familiar, any teeth filed too sharp, anything animal or blood-shot, any eyes that glance too deep.

Check the oven. The gas knobs are angled to off but a leak is not impossible in a house this old, their alarm might malfunction, they might fall asleep and some spark from a plug socket could catch and incite a conflagration.

Check the window latches. The opening wide enough for a body to squirm through, the claws of a Hunter marring the sill. Wriggling infestations that invade through the letter box, the keyhole, the gap under the door where the wind can whistle through.

Check. Check. Check.

Jon is happy. Jon has a job, work friends, a hundred small luxuries that he has struggled to earn. Jon is happy, so why can’t he be? He went through so much less, the blood washed off easily with soap, what the fuck does he have to cry over –

Martin has always crafted his masks from scrap, tongue out in concentration, piecing things together in low light, a make-do-and-mend of his own devising. His early efforts, the paper mâché and glue easily cracked before he learned to shore up his constructions. He has a small collection garnered over years.

The quiet-voiced, muffled-stepped, muted-smiled creation of a Good Son.

The zipped-mouth, no-refusals-no-complaints-yes-of-course-how-high earnestness of the Good Employee, the desperation sanded off the edges so no one could see.

The I’ll-get-the-first-round friendliness, the open-handed, open-hearted, too-naïve Good Colleague.

This new mask forms in increments, in the same way a rising mound of dirt marks the extent of a grave being dug.

He doesn’t mean to. It’s just he’s better at not talking about things. He always has been. And it is an ugly, easy comfort, to slip back into bad habits.

And Jon is happy.

All the things Martin does not wish to permit the light to touch he compresses inside like shaken soda. The rot in him deepens structural, the places where he papers over moulds and fungal speckles with the distraction of their new life. His smile parades simple, contented, cheeky, teasing, and there is a meticulous artistry in each. He sketches interest, paints joy, manufactures irritation out of the clay of nothingness that he allows himself to feel instead of the overwhelming rush of everything else.

I love you, his mouth murmurs, laughs, sighs, groans, and that at least is always true.

The mask of a Good Partner slips on tailor-made.

They find their nine-to-fives. Jon’s job is uneventful, boring, and nowhere near an Archive. He works in a registry office for the council, filing and organising and he’s cheerfully lied on his CV in order to get it. He gets the bus and texts Martin grumpy faces and GIFs summarising his mood when he gets suck in the commute or some idiot parks in a bus lane, he has a couple of colleagues he likes and a greater number that he tolerates, he gets a hot chocolate from this universe’s overpriced multinational chain on his lunch hour. When he gets home, he complains with delight at the mundanity of his dissatisfactions, regales Martin with tales of meagre drama.

Martin gets a cleaning job at a school. It is monotonous, dull and safe. Martin loses track of the time easily, quagmired in his musings. The children are wary of him and his visible scarring but it doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. The teachers are friendly enough, as well as the other cleaning staff, but he does not make friends. They’ll have to move anyway, if anything finds them here, if the Fears emerge again.

Martin tries not to feel like he’s waiting.

He wants to have a good night’s sleep.

“I’ll have breakfast at the school, don’t worry.”

“There were some leftovers from the canteen, so I’m kind of full.”

“It was one of the teacher’s birthdays, you know, Denise? Heh, might have had a bit too much cake. I’ll pop this in the fridge for later though, it’ll keep till tomorrow.”

“I’m just not that hungry tonight, Jon.”

He feels sharper when he doesn’t eat. It is uncomfortable, a scratched-out, hollowing sensation, but things focus more. He can control nothing else but this, and it feels good, to have this mastery over himself when so much is beyond him.

He drops down notches on his belt and tells Jon it’s all the walking he’s doing.

The world continues to happen to them. He goes to the cinema with Jon and picks at popcorn and encourages Jon’s outraged opinion. He meets Jon’s mildly interesting work friends and plays nice and excels at small talk, and he drinks half a cider that he nurses over the evening because it’s making his head fuggy. His body communicates its sharpness to him and he gains grim satisfaction from ignoring it. He goes to work and goes home and doesn’t sleep and goes to work and goes home and doesn’t sleep.

Martin does his best at living, and his mask doesn’t slip.

“You seem tired,” Jon pries his words out carefully, picking them out of his teeth as one would scraps. “Is… is everything ok?”

“Yeah, sure it is. Why?”

“… you seem a bit down today. Recently. Is anything… is there anything you want to talk about?”

“I’ve just been working too hard. Been a while since I had to do double-shifts, heh, I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“If you’re sure?”

Jon shifts to a different position where he’s sat on the sofa, his legs tucking up under him. Martin endures his questioning gaze with practise.

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

Martin delivers a hand-crafted smile that’s gilded heavily with guilelessness and reassurance. He watches as Jon believes him and hates himself.

“You know… You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you can – you know you can talk to me, Martin?”

Martin’s eyes focus on Jon’s chest at the point where a knife once sunk in, and doesn’t reply.

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

Martin wakes up.

Jon has twisted over onto his back again, rattling like a chain-smoker’s cough with his snoring. They were quiet that evening, tangled up in their own thoughts, but there is none of that distance in sleep. During the night, Jon’s wormed himself out of the covers with a single-minded determination, his restless legs squashing the duvet to the bottom of the bed on his side, encouraging Martin’s to follow suit.

He’s shirtless, his top chucked off to pile unceremoniously on the floor. The temperature is ripe with a burgeoning summer heat, and Jon tosses and complains if he’s overwarm, and Martin didn’t think he’d get to feel the drudgery of another lived summer. He’s shirtless, and the room is palled in sweltering dark that softens the vague shapes of the wardrobe, the chest of drawers, the knickknacks of the life they’re building together. He’s shirtless, and Martin cannot see where the scar is, the only scar of Jon’s he has ever thought ugly, but he knows it is there. That he put it there. That he could just as easily be waking up alone.

His body pains him to live in it. His stomach tight and bottomed out empty.

He is so so tired.

Martin’s heartbeat does not slow down. His chest constricting, and he swallows, a sharp sound hiccupping in his throat. He stifles it with a forceful sniff but more come as a painful spasming wave, and he has to sit up if any air is to dribble into his lungs.

He should get up. He has to get up, do this in the bathroom, doubled-over the sink, stifling his weakness where it cannot be witnessed. He cannot do this here.

Punch. Gasp.

His burning face is soaked as he bunches up his sleeves against his reddening eyes. A calming exhale drains out shaky, moulds itself into another loud sob. He plants his hands over his mouth, screwing his eyes closed, and this will pass, he’s fine, this will pass…

“Martin?”

I’m sorry to wake you, he thinks to say. It’s nothing, go back to sleep, stop looking at me Jon, I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s nothing, it’s nothing…

His shoulders start to shake.

“Martin?” Jon repeats slowly. And the ice creaks and cracks and Martin gasps and then it breaks, and the force of his damned-up grief is tidal, catastrophic and he sobs into his hands.

“It’s… it’s alright – it’s… it was a nightmare, that’s all, ‘s alright…”

“It’s not!” Martin bubbles out, the words mashed to a wail in his hands. “It’s not, it’s not, it’ll ruin this…”

“Hey.” Jon brings his arm around Martin and he buries his head in the bony crook of his shoulder because he does not want to meet Jon’s eyes. “What do you mean? Martin?”

Jon rubs at his back. Martin’s body betrays him in a hundred ways as it collapses around him. His weeping wrings him out, dry-mouthed and headachy and trembling when he subsides into shivery breaths.

“Talk to me,” Jon says. “Please.”

“You’re so happy,” Martin sniffs out. “I-I want you to be happy, god, o-of course I do. Things are, they’re good, they’re good and we won, s-s-so why does it feel like I’m still holding my breath? I-I go to bed and I’m frightened of every noise, and I wake up and I’m terrified that someone somehow could take this all away, and I can’t sleep, and I-I’m tired, Jon, I’m tired of holding my breath, and it’s all – it’s all so much a-a-a-and I can’t – ”

“Oh, Martin – ”

His words fail him then. Jon holds him up and his arms do not loosen.

“We-we’re going to fix this,” Jon says after a long while. “I promise you, together, we’ll – we’ll talk to someone. You aren’t alone in this. Together, alright, we’ll do this together. We’ve survived – everything else, we can get through this too.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” Martin says, too drained to avoid honesty.

“…Maybe not yet,” Jon says after a pause. “That’s OK. I can wait.”

I’m sorry, Martin attempts to say but Jon presses a kiss to his forehead.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jon says. He strokes Martin’s sweat-soaked hair.

“… Can we talk? Tomorrow? You don’t have to tell me everything, but… I’d like to be there for you, if you want me. If you’ll let me.”

Martin nods because he doesn’t trust his gummed-up throat. Jon takes that as an answer.

Dawn comes in slowly enough but they see it in together.

#tma #the magnus archives #cw racing thoughts #cw anxiety #tw eating disorder #tw ptsd #ask to tag #cw nightmares #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jonmartin #tma spoilers

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

Text

Nightwing #80 Review

woot woot i’ve kept it up for three issues lets gooo. i liked this issue more than the last one. there’s a lot of fanon dick characterization peppered in, but not so much that it puts me off entirely. also, i’m getting increasingly concerned about bitewing. but i did like tim in this one, very nice

look at all the blue and purple and pink. honestly at this point, i’m a broken record but come on come on come onnnnnnn. the blue and pink is very pretty though. this cover’s a bit offputting at first, and a bit spiraly, which i’m sure was the intended effect.

this is a genuine concern of mine. dick’s a vigilante, and he doesn’t have the same sprawling network and resources that bruce does. (even if he is a billionaire now, he hasn’t amassed the same collection of crime-fighting equipment that bruce has.)

i’m not sure if he’ll be able to take care of bitewing. damian’s got plenty of pets, but alfred used to take care of them, and now bruce plus the rest of the batfam is taking care of them. as far as we know, babs only drops by occasionally, and the same goes for dick’s family and friends. will dick be able to give bitewing the love and time and affection that a traumatized puppy like her needs? i really hope so.

she does look adorable in this panel tho.

dick. richard. richie. baby. why are you shirtless.

you have scars upon scars. probably chemical burns. bullet wounds. weird fucking squiggly lines from knives that only psychos with blade fetishes use. no normal person has the body that you do. and you don’t think that showing up shirtless in front of the police is going to raise suspicion? you don’t think that the people accusing you of murder are going to look at someone who looks like they’re a fucking mob enforcer and go hmm that’s a bit suspicious?

put on a SHIRT jesus CHRIST it’s like you’re not even trying to hide your identity.

look at this pompous little princess demanding only the highest quality head pets i’d burn down latvia for her. (no offense latvians it was the first country that popped into my head.)

pretty boy pretty boy pretty boy pretty boy-

no seriously kudos to the artist here. his expression is so human i wanna cry. dick, right now, is sheepishly asking a question. he knows he’s not going to get into any real trouble, he knows that he’ll be able to talk his way out of or somehow maneuver his way off this mess. but he’ll play nice for the police, so he’s asking a friend for a favour, part self-condescendingly and part oh-well-what-can-you-do.

and his expression reflects that. rather than a stoic expressionless face most male comic characters have when asking someone for something (or all the time really), rather than the weird desperate supposedly “seductive” face that most female comic characters plus dick grayson have when asking someone for something (or all the time really), he’s making a face that i pulled like yesterday. or the day before that. it’s kind of silly, kind of casual, very much human. i like it.

thank god. proper (in character) acknowledgement for officer grayson. yea, fuck cops in general, but i like that they included this line.

obviously, he’s not talking about the actual criminals, he’s talking about the police force itself. the bpd was too corrupt, and dick realized that he wasn’t helping. not only does one clean cop not make a dent in an overall dirty force, but dick was putting his allies in danger too. not only that, but it wasn’t good for dick’s mental health either. he was spreading himself too thin, and surrounding himself with some of the worst of crime 24/7 did a number on him. dick’s got a history of self-sacrificing tendencies, and i’m just glad he’s not a cop anymore.

dick has a gotham rogues mug. they make gotham rogue mugs, and dick has one.

what kinda city looks at it’s frankly horrible crime history and long list of certifiably insane serial killers who are all still alive and actively committing war crimes and goes “oooooh yea imma put that on a coffee mug!” gotham, that’s who.

this isn’t important i just like how all of bitewing’s barks are blue

back straight, hand on his hip, cheerful smile on his face as he says he’s being accused for murder. love that for him.

they couldn’t have said “yea it’s complicated” in a better way even if they put the words “yea it’s complicated” right there on the page in bold red letters. literally all the love to the artists.

dick please. you’re KILLING ME what the actual fuck IS THAT???? WHY DO YOU HAVE A MUG OF THAT???

anyway nightwing collects novelty mugs confirmed.

this paneling is so beautiful.

tim’s the focus, but he’s not the first thing you see. he’s placed in a way that forces the reader to drag their eyes all the way up the page in order to reach him. it us know just how high up tim is carelessly crouching, especially close to the ledge of the building too. i cannot think of a single better way to introduce a character, and this character in particular: you instantly know this is a version of tim with plenty of experience and training, is comfortable in his body and knows his limits, but still hangs onto that civilian awe of being in a high place and overlooking a brightly lit city.

absolute classic robin. i love it.

this isn’t even that important but it made me happy. this is how you train surf.

you don’t crouch or bend over when you get to a tunnel, which is oddly enough what most people think (at least from my experience). you bend backward. that not only 100% ensures that you’ll make sure you’re low enough to make it through the tunnel (because you can see the top of the tunnel, unlike when you crouch or bend), but it also makes it easier to get up: all you have to do is push up with your arms into a bent stance, and you’ll be in a ready, moving position. from a bend or a crouch, getting up is more awkward and more slow.

on a meta level, i like that this creative team knows what they’re doing when it comes to the small, almost unimportant stuff like that, because it makes the action more real. (as real as you can get with a guy running around stealing hearts.)

on a in-universe level, it once again drives home both dick and tim’s experience and professional level skill.

regardless of who you side with in the “should tim drake be robin again?” debate, you gotta admit that tim’s rebirth robin suit is r a d as fuck. if i’m not mistaken, this is the same one he was wearing in 2019 young justice for a little bit? it’s cute and hella cool i like it.

remember what i said about human expressions? doesn’t happen as often to tim bc he’s a Child, but it’s still nice to note when someone humanizes him, too. (that’s why i love the duckboy panel so much lol.)

me, at first: that’s not a “good call” dick that’s just common sense

me, now: sprinkled throughout the entire comic we can see dick bending to tim’s instructions if only briefly, joking with him to keep the mood light while still maintaining a serious mood and retaining control over this particular outing. this implies that dick’s doing it intentionally, purposefully leaving places in his sentences blank and offering affirmations, in order to encourage tim and train him in things bruce might not necessarily touch on, such as social chameleoning and misdirection techniques and love/affirmation from a family member. dick is not only a loving and supportive big brother, but he never stops training his younger brother in better vigilante tecnhiques because he wants tim to be better than him. in this essay i will-

d o g g o

also bitewing is getting so many head pats today i’m living for it

look at him, standing on a telephone wire with ease. nice flex, dick.

also look at how he’s silhouetted. the moon’s full bright, bright enough that the sky around dick is light, too. (at least. i’m like 99% sure that’s the moon.) not like most batman comics, where it’s sometimes hard to distinguish bruce from the background, which is entirely on purpose.

gotham is a dark gritty city, and so is bruce. the two of them are one. bludhaven may be a bit of a mess, but it’s being portrayed in all these different shades of blue and purple and pink, that are all light enough that dick stands out from the background. he hasn’t been swallowed up by the city, and chances are that he won’t ever be. also, the colouring helps establish bludhaven as a city too. there’s still hope for it. the light colouring means that it’s not going to sink into a pit as deep as the one bruce wove gotham into. the whole point of this nightwing arc in particular is to turn bludhaven into a better place, and it’s (most likely) letting us know early on that dick is going to accomplish that. he’ll struggle, but he’ll do it.

so dick??? dick designed his escrima sticks with a situation like this in mind? he created his signature and most iconic weapon (other than his chatty mouth), with a built in feature that turns his escrima sticks into tim’s signature and most iconic weapon???? just so that if he and tim ever got into a situation where tim didn’t have his staff, dick could make sure tim had the thing that would give him an edge over anyone he was fighting??? he’s such a big brother oh my goddd.

also tim’s smirk in this is just *chef kiss.* a staff is something he can work with, a staff is something he wields like an extension of his arm, a staff is means that someone’s about to get their ass kicked because tim’s about to beat the shit outta them.

this is my new phone background.

they really made sure we remembered that hey, those first few months when bruce was grieving too much to be any sort of a mentor to tim and was still unwilling to properly train him to be robin out of fear that he would end up like jason, dick was the one who stepped up (once he got over himself and his own fears and hangups with bruce) and trained tim to be robin, trained him how to fight and flip and fuckin fly out there, all while changing his own style a bit to be the more experienced one in the partnership while still trusting said partner to hold their own, so dick and tim have a very unique and cohesive fighting style that makes it hell for anyone who fights them together, didn’t they?

#river thinks too hard #nightwing 80 #nightwing 80 spoilers #nightwing #dick grayson #tim drake #red robin #robin #nightwing 80 meta #nightwing meta #dick grayson meta #tim drake meta #red robin meta #robin meta #dc meta #dc

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strayinvelvet · 4 years ago

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[what a fool in love]

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks all pink because of your tiny crush on him

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, high school au, jisung is babo but cute

wc: 1.5k (this was supposed to be around 500 only but got carried away)

warning: swear words, improper capitalization because i wrote this in tumblr drafts but just hit up my ask if this annoys you!

a/n: finally posting something after bouncing so many times! hopefully i can post consistently :(

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks flushed, especially when it’s because of him.

he has been observing you for months now and he notices. he notices how you would always stutter when you talk to him. you never do that when you talk to hyunjin or seungmin. he notices how your cheeks would turn a bright shade of pink when he calls you first. sometimes it would even reach your nose.

it’s not like he has been watching you. there was just this one time when he felt like eyes are on him. the bugging feeling was present for most of the day 'til he looked around and there you were, staring right at him. now jisung isn’t really one to boast, but he knows he’s one of the “handsome princes” of the school. he is not oblivious to the number of girls and boys that have a puppy to huge crush on him, thanks to the letters and free lunches he receives every once in a while.

so from then on, he knows. you’ve been showing signs of your secret crush towards him and he finds it absolutely adorable. the silent yet friendly fella of the class who never finds a struggle in having a conversation with someone despite being a stranger to her, except with him. he wouldn’t say he doesn’t enjoy watching it.

During lunch last time, when your friends abandoned you to go do their unfinished homework, you asked him, with the most shy and the most adorable look, if you can sit with him in his table. of course, the gentleman that he is, he let you sit. how could he let you possibly spend the whole lunch time looking for a seat? he swear he was only doing you a favor. well, he wouldn’t deny finding you stealing a few short glances at him amusing.

there was also this time when your biology teacher assigned the two of you to be “homework buddies.” it must have taken you a lot of courage to start the conversation. he would’ve pinched your cheeks that time if it weren’t for his self control: hey han jisung, she still hasn’t confessed to you. don’t make her uncomfortable. ah! and what was that you asked him? if he understand how the heart works? and then you went to full on nerd mode in explaining to him how it pumps blood and all the science-y stuff. how its beats depend on different factors, including external ones such as thoughts and feelings towards others. he’s pretty sure you were trying to convey something to him. dropping hints, i see. ahh, if only he could physically coo at you.

now the reason why he enjoys your actions the most is your subtleness. he can tell that you have no plans to tell him how you feel, save for your natural reaction when you see him, unlike the others who basically throw themselves at him. he can see your efforts to not make the two of you uncomfortable. and all it told him was how considerate you are. you’ve probably noticed how the confessions annoy him sometimes, especially when it was given to him at a bad timing. like the person just wanted to let it out with no regards if he’s in the mood to hear it or not. but you, you have always checked on him silently before doing something. not until today.

your classmates have gone to their respective homes. he just finished practicing with the dance club and was just on his way to the school gates when you called his name hastily. you stopped speed-walking in front of him and took a deep breath as if you just ran out of air. you were holding a folded piece of paper in your hand- wait. piece of paper? is that a letter? a love letter?! oh no...

“hey jisung. i have something to say. actually it’s-”

“no! wait!” he hastily said to stop you.

startled, you looked at him with a puzzled look, “hm..?”

no, you weren’t supposed to confess today. where did you get the sudden courage? is it from hyunjin? that man always encourage people to confess just to piss him off. tsk, that dick.

he looked at you with hesitation. are you nervous? he really didn’t want to leave you heart broken, tho.

he sighed, “how do i say this...” he gulped an imaginary lump in his throat before continuing, “ yn, you’re cute, i admit. but you see i’m not ready for a relationship yet. you’ve seen me turn down other confessions, i think, but i don’t want to do that to you because, well, you’re simply kind and... pure?” shit how do i really say this?

while he’s thinking of nice synonyms he can say instead as a replacement for what he’s about to say, you on the other hand, were left dumbfounded.

what is this guy on...?

when he finally seemed to quiet down, you didn’t even try to comprehend what he said (there’s no need to try honestly it’s impossible) before finally saying what you really needed to say.

“jisung...” you paused for a while blinking at him, “i- i was gonna say ms. kim wants you in her office tomorrow during self-study hour. it’s about your biology grades,” you gave him the paper you were holding - his biology test marked with a big red, “you failed your preliminary quiz again and she’s afraid you’re going to fail the final quiz. she wanted me to say it because we’ve been partners for this subject.”

and then the most awkward silence ensued. not until he spoke with the most “huh?” tone.

“what?”

“Ms. Kim-”

“no wait i heard that. just... what?”

at this point you didn’t know what to say. your eyes travel from one point to another except to his eyes just because he’s clearly unfathomable right now.

“you weren’t-” he stopped to swallow the lump in his throat that now actually exists, “you weren’t going to confess?” he asked (with a bit of a hope that you actually were on the way to do so just to save him from humiliation).

however, he’s hopeless from his mess.

with a furrowed brows you finally answered, “no...? where’d you get that?”

well shit.

“i mean- don’t you like... have a crush on me?”

“where is this coming from?” you kind of dragged the where part because part of you hoped to understand where he’s coming from.

“you were all blushy with me!!” he is currently on his mission to prove that you liked him.

“when?!”

“last week! it even reached your nose and you were so cu-”

“han jisung! it’s winter! i had colds last week!”

“what about that time in the cafeteria when you were all shy?! and that time when you were explaining to me, OUT OF THE BLUE, about how liking someone makes your heart beat and stuff? or when i would catch your eyes on me?!”

“when were those even?! and you totally took that biology thing out of context!” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. you are so into this argument now.

the both of you went through this banter with your voices going higher the further the banter gets for as long as your memory (or jisung’s. he’s racking up his brain to save himself) could allow. however, as the banter got stretched, the more he realized that he really did misunderstand you and your adorable actions. by a lot. so when it finally donned him that he has such a thick face for thinking like that, plus assuming that you would confess, he finally kept quiet and let himself absorb the stupidity he has done.

for you, however, you find this whole strange exchange hilarious. normally, if it was other guys, you’d have slapped him across the street for assuming things. but it is han jisung. he never rubbed it on anyone’s faces that he has a lot of admirers. he never gets cocky about his popularity. he gets shy over small praises (he loves praises). he also managed to teach the whole class one lesson in calculus minutes before an exam just because his friends asked him to teach them a crash course, until the whole class joined their little tutorial.

“soo...” you tried to start.

“wait don’t talk anymore this is kinda embarrassing for me,” he closed his eyes shut as if he's trying to convince himself to wake up from this embarrassing nightmare.

you giggled, well isn't he adorably clumsy? he's weird but you'd just take it as another opportunity to gain a close friend. “do you still need help in biology? i kinda need help in calculus...”

“alright, let’s head down the diner” he answered immediately before walking straight forward without looking at you.

"jisung!” he stopped on his tracks but without looking at you. “it’s this way!" you pointed at the opposite direction of where he was going. he turned towards you and fast-walked in that direction until you told him to wait for you in which he slowed down his steps by tenfold until you were right beside him. still not letting your eyes meet. he’s that embarrassed.

little did you both know a close friend is not only thing you'd gain from this.

#districtninewriters #inkidz #stray kids #han jisung #stray kids au #han jisung au #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #han jisung fluff #han jisung x you #stray kids x reader

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

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DATING TXT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Choi Soobin

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Soobin couldn’t help but get shy whenever he was affectionate around you. It didn’t matter how long the two of you had been together, just to feel your touch against him was always more than enough to put a smile on his face.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

The two of you were introduced to each other through Arin, who was confident that the two of you would get along with each other. You’d been talking about trying to get yourself out there for quite some time, and she knew straight that you and Soobin would hit it off if you just let her introduce you to him.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

Eventually, as Arin saw how well the two of you were getting on, she managed to push Soobin into telling you how he felt. There was no way she was going to see two of her closest friends not end up together when she saw how happy you were in each other’s company. With Arin’s threats in mind, on his next date with you, Soobin knew he had to tell you how he felt about you before it ended up being too late.

D ⇴ DATES

Your dates often consisted of adventuring, whenever Soobin had the time off, usually enjoying the fresh air and the peace and quiet. When he wasn’t so lucky to get the time off, either through TXT or MCing, you’d try and surprise him with lunch or stop by for an hour wherever he was filming to still make sure that you could spend some time with him. It was something that was incredibly important to you both, and Soobin always made sure to express to you how thankful he was that you made the time for him.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

It took a long time for Soobin to really settle into a relationship, being his first one, he was incredibly nervous about doing something wrong or risking upsetting you. He would open up to his friends a lot and used every piece of advice that they gave him to make sure that he was always doing the right thing. However, as time passed and things progressed, Soobin definitely found his feet a lot better and soon began to relax into your relationship and learn from all of his first experiences that he had alongside you.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Arguing was never something Soobin enjoyed, he had the kindest heart, which anyone knew. Of course, he knew that no relationship was perfect, but that never meant that he enjoyed fighting with you either. He was always one to get quite emotional when tension started to grow between the two of you. When things began to feel like they weren’t going to resolve quickly, he’d find himself tearing up and falling quiet in the hope that it would get things to stop. You were a mess too, and as you saw the states that each other was often in, it would be enough to encourage you both to stop your disagreement too.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

He was often teased by his brother and sister for not having dated before, and so when he started dating you, he couldn’t wait to rub it into them that he’d finally found someone. They adored you, almost as much as Soobin did, but knowing they could no longer tease their brother definitely stung them both a bit.

H ⇴ HOME

The two of you were incredibly lucky in that Beomgyu was a very understanding roommate for Soobin. Whenever you stayed at the dorm, he’d usually head across and room with Yeonjun so that the two of you could have some space and also make sure that Soobin rested in between his busy schedules that he had.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

You surprised at the end of a particularly long show at Music Bank which finally brought a confession of love out of him for the first time. Earlier in the day, on a call, you could tell he was struggling, and as the camera cut and he saw you waiting to take him home, there were no other words that could express how he was feeling about seeing you.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Soobin trusts in most people, but he especially trusts in you, therefore jealousy is a feeling very rarely felt by him. He knows that you can handle yourself, and he trusts that anyone around you will be respectful of your relationship together and not try and get in the way of things. It doesn’t stop him definitely being protective of you, but he’s far from someone who will throw his weight around or feel the need to make your relationship obvious to stop himself from ever getting jealous at things that you did together.

K ⇴ KIDS

He most definitely looked forward to the day where you could settle down together and start dreaming of a family, but Soobin was incredibly focussed on his career for the foreseeable to think about having a family in the immediate future. It didn’t stop him thinking about what would happen one day, but he was very clear with you that work was number one whilst he was still young and making a name for himself.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

You often made it a mission for yourself to get Soobin laughing because you loved to see his dimples and prominent as possible. He was very much aware that his dimples were a feature that you absolutely adored on him. Whilst he always found himself laughing around you anyway, he knew you always liked to get that little bit extra out of him so that you could really see how happy he was around you. Your company was always something that Soobin enjoyed, and if you were feeling down, then he’d force a way to make sure that his dimples were clear as he knew they were always the solution to cheering you up.

M ⇴ MISSING

Whilst you were very understanding of just how busy Soobin was, it didn’t stop you missing him a lot, and him you. He always worked, he knew nothing else, but being a relationship certainly shifted those feelings for him. Time was often something that the two of you didn’t have much of, leaving Soobin especially feeling guilty for how alone you often were. He missed you a lot, not just on tour, but day to day too when he was shooting or MCing, not being able to have the contact with you, even just a text, was definitely hard on him. He underestimated at times just how hard he really had fallen for you and how much he wanted to be around you.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

He loved to call you, ‘petal,’ or something associated with flowers. It was always the way with him, there was never anything else. He was always coming up with a new floral nickname that he could give to you.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Soobin was obsessed with your hands, he missed them when he wasn’t able to hold them, but the limited times he was able to hold them meant a tremendous lot.

P ⇴ PDA

He would always get shy when he was affectionate with you in public, he got shy in private, let alone around other people. He loved for others to see that he was happy in his relationship, but as soon as he spotted someone looking or heard someone make a comment, he’d immediately turn red and have to hide away.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Your opinion on his work was something that meant a great deal to Soobin. He loved to know what you thought about the things that he was doing, and if you ever had any feedback, good or bad, then he was always more than happy to hear it too.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Soobin always told you how he hated the rain, so you made it your mission to get him to see how beautiful the rain could be. With a lot of persuasion, you eventually managed to convince him to take a walk out in the rain with you. A lot of small steps were made, until one day as it rained, you felt him take a hold of your hand, pulling you out onto the streets so that the two of you could dance in the rain like you’d always dreamt of.

S ⇴ SEX

He always made sure to take the best care of you whenever the two of you were intimate. Whilst you had a bit more of a drive for something quick in between his busy schedule, Soobin refused, he wanted to always be able to take his time with you, intimacy was never something to be rushed as far as he was concerned. Soobin always wanted to make you feel loved, even if it meant having to wait a little while longer sometimes.

T ⇴ TEXTS

You’d often receive texts when you spent a little while apart with updates on how his day was going. He’d always let you know when he was resting or having a meal so that you didn’t have to worry too much about him.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Having someone who was so understanding of his career and the things that he did was of most importance to Soobin. Knowing that he had you there to support him and help him rest when he had time off meant the world to him.

V ⇴ VACATION

If he ever got the chance to go away, even just for a day or two, he would. It didn’t matter where in the world he was, just being able to spend a bit of quality time with you without the phone going or a car tooting its horn outside of the dorm was more than he could have ever dreamt of no matter where the two of you were.

W ⇴ WHINING

Soobin wasn’t one to moan, he knew he left you craving his attention a lot, and so he’d never be as harsh as to ask for yours in return when you were busy.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Any form of affection often left Soobin shy, but kisses were definitely the ones that would turn his cheeks the darkest shade of red. He’d hide away in the crook of your neck as soon as he felt his cheeks turn, despite the undivided attention you paid to making sure he was filled with love, scattering kisses to any part of his body that you could reach. Seeing how shy he got was definitely something that you adored the most.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were always there for him, even if sometimes you had to wait forever to be at his side.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

At night, Soobin would always hold you close and try and make up for the lost time the two of you had together throughout your days together. Small apologies would often be whispered as he hoped a hug from him would at least go some way in making things up to you.

---

Masterlist

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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago

Text

short skirt, high heels (spencer reid/reader)

Title: short skirt, high heels,

Anon requested: Hi! May i please have a Spencer one shot? y/n has been part of the team for a while, she’s confident, fun and always wearing professional but slightly sexy workwear. Spencer is caught staring at y/n legs while she’s wearing a skirt. Her and Spence have a flirty friendship that leads to more?

Couple: spencer reid/fem reader

Category: spicy fluff

Content Warning: comments about sex, sex jokes, swearing, low-key sub!spencer, low-key dom!reader, mentions of drinking (but no actual drinking)

Word Count: 2,371

Summary: Spencer has had a crush on reader since she basically started working for the BAU. It doesn’t help that reader dresses to leave a little to the imagination and is constantly flirting with him.

A/N: this is my first time writing dom(-ish)!reader… let alone sub(-ish)!spencer… so pretty please bare with me with this one… i mean, i think i did a dom(-ish)!reader... but yeah! thank you everyone for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

I don’t know why I wear such revealing clothing to work. It’s modest and professional, I just have to put that out there. But, it is on the sexier side of clothing. I suppose I do it because I like it, it makes me feel more confident. And you need a certain level of confidence to have a job at the FBI’s prestigious Behavioural Analysis Unit.

The way people's eyes followed me felt great. I loved it. But it was always one person who caught my attention, or I caught their attention I should say. It was always the same person, and will forever be the same person. Spencer Reid’s eyes have been on me since day one, not that I’m complaining.

I could picture it clearly how his eyes followed me from the elevator all the way to Hotchner’s office. And how red his face was when Derek called him out about. It was honestly my favorite thing in the world. I kinda felt bad about the teasing he got. But, he shouldn’t have been staring in the first place. It was my first day! I didn’t know him… Let alone did he know me.

A pile of files was sitting in one arm, while my free hand held a small briefcase. The elevator was a scratchy silvery color, and the lights from above reflected off every surface.

My hair was pulled back in a high and curly ponytail. A tight, navy blue, pencil skirt clung to my legs, and a modest, yet very low, red blouse hung from my shoulders. I typically try to do subtle makeup for professional days, but I always look like some sort of supermodel at the end of the day.

The doors to the elevator doors dinged open, showing me, behind a floor to ceiling window, the open offices of the BAU. Aaron Hotchner would be the man I was looking for, but their offices were so open, people were walking around, bustling because of their copious amounts of work. Can’t wait for that to be my life.

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I entered the main office area. A few people were sitting and standing around one person’s desk. They were all laughing and talking to each other as the people around them worked their asses off. Their boss just lets them do this?

I furrowed my eyebrows as I walked into the office area some more. People were still rushing past me, not talking to me. I know for a fact I don’t look familiar to anyone here, and I look lost to everyone. A little help would be nice.

“Could you tell me…” I started to talk but didn’t get to finish my thought when the person just continued walking. I let out an annoyed sigh and went to stop someone else, but fail when they glared at me and kept walking.

“Uh, Aaron Hotchner’s office?” I failed again. I threw my head back and let out a deep sigh. I didn’t realize just how busy it was today. If I had known it was so busy, I wouldn’t have come in today.

“Excuse me,” I stepped right in front of someone else and they stopped to look at me.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go. Time-sensitive thing,” they pointed at their watch before pushing past me. I bit my lower lip and shook my head again.

“Can anyone please tell me where Aaron Hotchner’s office is?!” I only half-shouted. I still gotta maintain some level of professionalism. I was just getting fed up with everyone ignoring me. Everyone around me stopped their movement and looked at me.

The group of people at the desk all stared at me with wide eyes before pointing towards the other side of the room. I looked at everyone before looking at where they were pointing. A man wearing a black suit and a businessman haircut was standing on a small catwalk, looking at everyone in the office area. Although, he was mostly looking at me. I widened my eyes and looked down at the ground with wide eyes before walking over to him.

“Hi, you must be Aaron Hotchner,” I looked up at him before introducing myself. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” I looked back out in front of us. Everyone was back at their work, even the people at the desk. All except for one person.

A man, who was with the group around the desk, was staring at me. Not near me or at Aaron, but right at me. It was just obvious that he was staring at me. His eyes carefully lingering on my legs, or arms, or my chest for the briefest second. But never long enough on my face. Although when he did look at my face, I smiled and winked. His face grew three shades red.

“No, no, don’t worry. I understand the hustle and bustle of this place,” Aaron laughed before turning to look at me, “Let’s step inside my office.”

So, that’s where I was work-wise. Working on the team with the BAU, with the man who stared at me and became a tomato the second I winked at him. Ah, good ole’ Spencer Reid. That boy doesn’t even know he’s infatuated with me… But I do.

I’ve had my fair share of flirts with him, and scandalous comments made about the two of us. Or, the jokes and teasing made by others. Although, our friendship always had some sort of flirtiness to it, even if he didn’t notice he was flirting with me. There was still something there. I smiled at the thought of him being so oblivious and clueless.

Derek giving him pointers or tips was my favorite. The help was nice, honestly. But, it was the execution. It was a little sad when Derek left to be with Hank and Savannah, leaving poor Spencer to fend for himself. Of course, Rossi tried but no really let Spencer listen.

I could hear his voice now when he told Derek and David that he didn’t need tips or pointers, because ‘He doesn’t have a crush on her.’ They never really gave up on that though.

“Seems like you’ve caught someone’s attention,” Emily muttered as she looked down at the desk. I glanced over my shoulder and noted that the eyes one Spencer Reid were wandering up and down my lower half and backside. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dressing for a guy. I mean, I dress mostly for myself. But the unwanted, yet wanted, attention from one guy was excellent.

“And he says he doesn’t have a crush on me,” I looked back at Emily with a smile. She laughed as she looked at the paperwork I was signing. “Do you think he even knows he’s staring?” I spoke as I placed the pen down on the desktop.

“I don’t think he knows he likes you,” she replied, finally shuffling the papers together in a neat pile. I scoffed and shook my head. “C’mon, you know Reid. He’s got the innocence of a 1st grader when it comes to relationships and romance,” she laughed as she stood up straight.

“True, this is true,” I returned the laughter as I stood up so I was no longer leaning over my desk. “All done with paperwork?” I asked, smiling at Emily.

“For now, I hope,” she laughed as she picked up the papers. “Good luck with you know who,” she spoke in a sing-y song tone before slipping away to her office. I looked back over my shoulder and smiled when I saw that Spencer was still staring at me.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I winked once he looked up at my face. And I swear, his face changed several different shades of red as he looked at me. He went from looking normal to looking like Roma Tomato. I didn’t feel bad about my joke either. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught him staring at me. “Or just close your eyes and use your robot brain to take a picture,” I smirked at him.

“I… I wasn’t staring,” Spencer muttered as he pulled his eyes from my body to look at his own paperwork. I slowly walked away from my desk and over towards him. I leaned over so I was the same height as him. But, that also gave him a great look at my cleavage. I smirked when he struggled to not stare at my chest.

“Sure you weren’t,” I placed my hand to his cheek and smiled. For a moment he leaned more into my touch, but instantly jerked away from my hand, “It’s okay, you weren’t staring at me. I get it.” I smiled and cocked my head, “I know how I look. I’d stare too if I was you,” I pulled my hand away from his face before sitting down in his lap. Spencer held his hands up so he wasn’t touching me at all. I had to force myself not to pout. I’d be okay if he touched me in any way, innocent, not innocent… Doesn’t matter.

“What are you doing!? There are people here! Watching!” He exclaimed once I was settled on his legs. I smiled and nodded.

“I know, I know,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his neck, “But, the next time I catch you staring at my ass, I’m gonna do a lot worse than sitting on your lap, Reid,” I smiled and blinked at him. He stared at me and nodded slowly, like even though he understood the words I was saying, he knew he wasn’t going to follow through with them.

It was impressive how his face got even redder. But it was crazy. I kinda liked it too.

“Do you understand?” I whispered as I looked at him. He nodded. I smiled again before I stood up. “I’d understand if you look again, I won’t be upset. In fact, I’ll encourage it, Spence,” ” I kept smiling at him as I walked away from him.

I returned to my desk and gathered my things before I left the office for the day. As I looked over my shoulder, Spencer was definitely staring at me, and he knew I definitely caught him. So, I smiled before winking and waving as the elevator doors shut.

{***}{***}{***}

“O’Keefes anyone?” Luke asked as we stepped off the elevator. I rolled my shoulders and looked at him with a somewhat flirtatious smile. He returned the smile and winked.

“I’m always down to go to O’Keefes with you, Lukey Poo,” I cooed as I pinched his cheek. A groan came from the back of the group, causing me to turn and look. A smile grew on my lips when my eyes landed on Spencer, who had rolled his eyes and looked away from Luke and I. “You comin’ with us, Pretty Boy? First-round on me?” I smiled at him.

“I’m definitely in if you’re buying drinks,” Jennifer looked at me before stepping ahead of Luke and I. I smiled at her before looking back at Spencer.

“Pretty please,” I half begged as I pouted my lower lip and gave my best puppy dog eyes. Spencer looked back at me, a pointed stare in his eye. I gave him my best puppy dog eyes and playful pout as I looked at him. “You don’t even have to drink. You can just sit there and be quiet,” I spoke before abruptly stopping in my tracks. And just as I turned around, Spencer walked right into me. In order to keep me from toppling over, he grabbed both my arms to keep me upright. His hands were touching the exposed skin on my arms, causing me to smile. This would be the first time he was touching me, off of a case. Working on a case is a whole different story. Pulling me out of the way of an unsub is different than firmly placing his hands on my arms to steady me from falling.

“You need to be more careful… I won’t always be there to catch you when you fall,” he spoke low just so I could hear him. I smiled as I looked up at him.

“But, I’d love it if you were there,” I lifted a hand to place on his chest. Just as he opened his mouth, someone appeared beside us. I smiled as I looked over at the person.

“Will you two just get a room already?” Emily looked between Spencer and I before leaving us alone. I looked back up at Spencer with a new, confident, and flirtatious smile. He looked clueless as always. Of course, he didn’t know what Emily meant by that.

“Whaddya say we go find a broom closet and show up to O’Keefes a little later than the others,” I carefully wrapped my arms around his neck. Even in my highest heels, Spencer was still a good few inches taller than me. So, I stood on my toes to try to get closer to his personal space and lean closer to his face. “I know where some great broom closets are to get… funky in,” I whispered as I leaned closer to him. We were a good few inches away from each other, and it was taking everything in me to not press my lips to his.

“I… I, uh... Uh,” Spencer started, but clearly couldn’t find the words to say anything. I smiled before lifting a finger to his lips.

“Just a nod or a shake of your head will be okay… And, if you say no, I won’t be upset. I’ll stop and I won’t bring it up again… Now, Doctor Reid,” I whispered as I pulled my finger away from his lips. “Do you want to go find a broom closet and have some fun in there?” I asked again. Spencer stared at me with wide eyes before rapidly nodding. I put my arms back around his neck before pressing my lips to his. Spencer placed his hands firmly on my waist.

And after 8 years of working here, I’m finally getting what I want.

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