#2) it makes the cons (at least some of it's more grunt-work forces) not an unstoppable evil and kinda makes them people- even as a corpse

[messy-nonbinary]

Can I request a part 2 for Nothing to be afraid of. Where it is Nat's turn. But afterwards readers behavior changes, because she is in pain physically and meantally, and is afraid of the three. Then when Buck, Nat, and Steve notice, they start to panic because they think they broke her.

Fixing Our Girl

TW: Dark!Natasha, dark!Bucky, dark!Steve, dark!Wanda, forced age regression, misuse of powers, non-con, if more is needed let me know

Pairing: Dark!Mommy!Natasha x Dark!Daddy!Bucky x Dark!Daddy!Steve x fem!reader

Summary: Maybe they took it too far.. But how are they going to fix it?

a/n - Yeah so I've been quite some time lol sorry @coollemonsaresour I was waiting till after LGIT before I answered but then I went on a week vacation from writing and then ANOTHER week of vacation with some family to Florida. Promise I'll try and get to other requests soon!!

MASTERLIST | PART 1 | TAGLIST

*By clicking 'keep reading' you are confirming that you are of legal age(18+) and have read all warnings above. I do not consent to having my content read by minors!

“Now it’s Mommy’s turn to have some fun.”

Natasha had meant each word. It may not have been fun for you but it was definitely fun for her. She made you cum at least 4 times before she sat on the edge of the tub and shoved your face into her heat. “Fuck- You eat out Mommy so well, Lovebug.” She praised, though it didn’t make you feel any better.

She didn’t let your head leave her pussy until she had came around your mouth 5 times. But when she was finally done with you, the two of you finished your bath and she carried you back to your playroom. “You did so good for us today, baby.” She said, planting a small kiss on your forehead before leaving.

You felt disgusted, violated, and most importantly, scared. Just as scared as you did when they first kidnapped you. When you were punished left and right because you would or wouldn’t do certain things. You had learned how to survive and not be punished. And when it came to sex, you denied them and they had accepted it. It made you at least feel like they weren’t extremely terrible people.

But now, you were scared of them. Scared of what they could- no- would do to you now that they’ve crossed this line.

You were in pain. Both mentally and physically. What did they expect from you now? That the four of you would continue living normally as though nothing had happened? As though you enjoyed what they did to you? Did they expect you to do it again?

You wanted to cry but you couldn’t. You had used up all your tears that were willing to fall earlier..

You sat on the floor of your playroom motionless. It’s not like you wanted to move, even if you could. Your bones ached and your vision began to get blurry as you finally let yourself fall asleep.

You woke up to Bucky slamming himself into you. You had no idea how long he had been doing this but you knew that just because you were awake, it didn’t mean he was going to stop.

“Hey, Doll. You’re finally awake.” Bucky groaned in your ear. “Daddy just wanted you all to himself.” You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop as he slammed into you even harder. You couldn’t even bring yourself to move, merely letting him have you. He grunted in your ear as he grew closer, only praising you once he filled you up with his seed.

Your mind went blank, as though you blacked out, and the next thing you knew, you were back in your playroom, laying on your stomach in front of one of your coloring books.

You didn’t want to color. You didn’t want to do anything but run away. Maybe even crawl in a hole and-

“Hey, Doll. Wanna come watch a movie with us?” Bucky said, interrupting your thoughts. You just looked up at him and nodded. He picked you up and took you to the living room where Steve and Natasha were already sitting on the couch together.

Bucky handed you off to Natasha while he looked for a movie. She bounced you in her lap while you just stared off into the distance. “How’re you feeling, Baby?” Steve asked from your right. You shrugged, not able to find the energy to talk. Steve frowned, looking over to Natasha with concern.

“Alright. Movie picked.” Bucky said, setting the remote down. Nat pulled you closer to her and you just laid on her chest, not really focusing on the movie. It was one of your favorites, that much you could tell, but you couldn’t even find solace in it anymore.

You fell asleep halfway through the movie and Natasha carried you to bed.

“There’s something off with her.” Steve said.

It took a while for the three to understand what was going on but then they realized that you were scared.

Of them.

“Did we go too far?” Steve asked. “What- of course not. Right, Nat?” Bucky asked, turning to Natasha. “I don’t know, Bucky. I mean- Steve is right, there is something going on with her.”

They didn’t know it yet but you were gone. Their innocent little girl is no longer with them. What was replaced was a shell of a person.

“Is there anything we can do to fix it?” Steve questioned, panic rising in his chest. “I’m not- I’m not sure.” Bucky said and he tried to think of something, anything that might bring their girl back. “Nothing. I think we- I think we broke her.”

Steve cursed under his breath, lacing his hands through his hair. Was there really nothing he could do, nothing at all?

“No. I have an idea..” Natasha started, explaining her idea to the two men before her.

----

“Y/N we have someone for you to meet.” Natasha said, stepping aside for you to see the person following her. “This is your Auntie Wanda.” She said once you got a good look at her. “Hi, little one! Nice to meet you.” Wanda greeted, sticking out her hand for you to take. Not wanting to get in trouble, you did. “Hi..” You spoke quietly.

You went to pull your hand away but Wanda held on tightly. Bits of red began emitting from her other hand as she led it towards your face. You tried to pull away but Natasha grabbed you and held you in place.

It felt like something was trying to prod into your mind and your eyes flashed red before you passed out.

“Did it work?” Natasha asked and Wanda nodded. “Yes. When she wakes up you’ll have your little girl back.” She said, smiling. Natasha hugged and thanked Wanda before placing you in your crib.

When you woke up, you had memories that you didn’t have before. You wanted to question it but you couldn’t. Something was stopping you. “How do you feel, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, interrupting your thoughts. “Good, Dada!” You said it on command as if you were programmed to do so. This was your life now. And your caregivers couldn’t be happier.

----

[drabbles-mc]

First Impressions

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by @eversonaive​ : Could do a fic on the reader meeting Juice when he has the sign stuck to his chest only to find out later he is the club's intelligence officer lol

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: language, Juice being an embarrassed lil cutie

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I loved writing this. Flustered Juice gives me life lmao. I hope it’s what you had in mind! I peppered in a couple other of our SAMCRO boys because why not?

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

SOA Taglist: @adela-topaz-caelon​ @garbinge​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @masterlistforimagines​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @xladymacbethx​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @mayans-sauce​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing please let me know! xo)

You couldn’t pretend that you weren’t surprised, and a little off-put by the scene in front of you. You looked around, wondering why you felt like you were the only one who saw what you were seeing. Everyone else was walking by, minding their own business, but you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t notice.

Crouching down, you pressed your fingers gently against the side of his neck, and you were rewarded with a fairly steady pulse. Relief flooded through you, glad you weren’t going to have to report a dead body. However, you weren’t quite sure how to handle the scene in front of you.

Gently nudging him, you tried to wake him up. He let out a soft groan but didn’t fully wake up. With a heavy sigh, you shook him a little harder but weren’t able to wake him. Pressing your lips together into a thin line, you patted the side of his face. You saw his brows furrow and twitch and you knew that he was almost awake.

“Hey,” you shook him and patted his cheek again, “you good?”

With a groan and what seemed like more effort than it should’ve taken, he slowly started to open his eyes. Part of you wanted to laugh because he seemed like he was probably going to be alright, but more than anything you were just confused.

“You alright? Looks like you’ve had…a time.”

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at the state of himself. The fact that he didn’t seem shocked and appalled spoke volumes. With a quiet grunt, he forced himself to his feet.

“Do I have to be worried about you?” you couldn’t help but to look him up and down again. With a chuckle and a shake of his head he reassured you that he was fine, which did little to actually make you feel better, “There somewhere I should be take you?”

He laughed, “No. Don’t worry. Thank you for, uh, waking me up. Way better than getting kicked by the cops,” he shook his head.

“Small miracles,” you had to laugh.

“Yea,” he glanced down at the sign on his chest and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he was weighing the pros and cons of ripping it off right then and there, “I should go. I’m uh,” he gestured to the cardboard, “apparently late for my eight o’clock feeding.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Well that’s unfortunate.”

With a deep breath he pulled the sign from his chest and you both cringed. He cursed under his breath from the pain of it before folding it and tucking it underneath his arm. He gave you a lopsided grin and a small wave before turning and walking in the other direction away from you. You stood there, feeling like you should be offering him a shirt, or something to at least tie around his waist, but he seemed pretty unbothered by it all, so you let him go. You shook your head to yourself as you continued on your way, unable to believe what a weird day you’d already had.

A few days went by and you hadn’t forgotten about your run-in on the street that morning. It was a tough scene to forget. You didn’t want to believe that that was going to be the first and last time you ever saw him. If nothing else, you just wanted some closure on the situation, and you also wanted to know how the hell he ended up like that.

Your mind had wandered back to that situation as you stood outside your car waiting for the tow truck. You knew that your car was on its last leg to begin with, and that you should’ve set about looking for a new one some time ago, but you just kept putting it off. The thought of shopping for one, and then paying for one was overwhelming. You were paying for it in an entirely different way now, though. You knew that fixing whatever was wrong with your car was probably going to cost more than it was worth. So, to distract yourself from thinking about that, you thought about literally anything else as you sat half propped up onto your hood.

You’d gone to Teller-Morrow one other time, maybe twice, since you’d moved just outside of Charming. You didn’t remember anything about it, though—you were in and out quick for an oil change or something equally innocuous. There weren’t a whole lot of options for mechanics to begin with, let alone ones that would also tow. Plus you figured since they were local, it wouldn’t take them too long to get to you.

About twenty minutes later the tow-truck pulled up, and you were a mix of relieved and apprehensive. Two men stepped out, and your first thought was that they couldn’t have carried themselves more differently from each other if they tried. The taller one approached you, adjusting his beanie slightly as he did, while the other scampered around to start hooking the truck up to your car.

“So,” he walked up to you, a small smile on his face for a moment as he looked at you, “what seems to be the problem?”

You chuckled and shook your head as you clocked the name stitched into his work shirt, “Well, it stopped running. That’s about all I know, Opie,” you smiled at him.

He laughed, nodding his head slightly, “Sounds like a pretty serious issue, then.”

“I’d say so.”

He glanced back to make sure that your car had been hooked up alright, “You need to be dropped off somewhere, or you got a ride?”

You sighed, resting your hand on the back of your neck as you thought, “Would I be able to ride back to the shop with you guys?”

He nodded, “Sure thing. Long as you don’t mind Kip staring at you the whole time,” he gestured over to the man who was waiting by the door of the tow truck.

You laughed, “Staring I can handle.”

When they pulled into the lot at the mechanics, Opie got out and instructed Kip to take care of the rest. He looked over to you and gestured to the office, “Gemma will get you all set up. We’ll get it right on the lift and try to figure out what’s going on.”

You nodded, “Thank you, appreciate it.”

You knocked lightly on the door to the office and she called for you to come in. She got you all squared away with your paperwork to get everything started. You let her know that if it ended up being more than a certain amount to just not bother and scrap it, or to give it back and you would take care of that part yourself. You weren’t in a position to be paying more than the car was worth. There was sympathy present in her eyes as she listened to you, nodding along. You hated the feeling of pity but you couldn’t deny that you’d landed yourself into a bit of a hole.

She was walking you back out of the office, “We’ll give you a call when we’ve got some numbers for you, sweetheart.”

“Sounds good. Thank you guys so much.”

“Need us to call you a cab?”

You shook your head, “No, no I’ll be alright. Thank you though.”

You were walking across the lot, pulling out your phone as you did to try and figure out who you were going to call to come and pick you up. There was a sudden influx of noise and voices. And despite the fact that you heard it, you still didn’t look up.

The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the feeling of someone’s shoulder bumping into yours. You looked up and both of you were in the middle of apologizing when your eyes met his. Neither of you could hide the shock on your faces as you took each other in.

He looked a lot different when he wasn’t coming out of a mild coma. And also when he was fully dressed with an MC kutte on. You’d missed out on the fact that he was handsome in the midst of worrying about his well-being the last time you saw him.

“Oh shit,” he laughed, “hey.”

“Uh, hey,” you couldn’t help but to stare at him, “I didn’t…expect to see you here. Or again in general, for that matter.”

Another man in a kutte appeared, draping his arm around the shoulder of the man that you were talking to, “Juicy,” he said, “who’s your friend?”

He wore his nerves on his face, “Um. She’s not, uh, she’s—”

You cut him off to save him the trouble, holding out your hand, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he let your name roll off his tongue, “nice to meet you. I’m Jax,” he paused, looking back and forth between you and the man next to him, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, “Sorry to interrupt,” you could see that he was biting back a laugh.

“No, you’re…you’re good,” you reassured him, “Nothing to interrupt. Just, um, a little surprised by,” you gestured to the two of them and to the clubhouse behind them, “all of this.”

“Well then I gotta ask,” Jax continued to stare at Juice who seemed to be getting more and more shy by the second, “how do you know Charming’s favorite Puerto Rican Intelligence Officer?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped past your lips, “Intelligence Officer?”

Jax nodded, clapping Juice on the back as though he thought he was hyping him up, “For the club, yea. Can find out anything about anyone. Also our resident tech guy.”

You chuckled, unable to lie and say that you weren’t a little impressed, “Impressive. Guess we didn’t have time to get into all that last time we met.”

“Oh?” Jax looked back and forth between the two of you, embarrassment creeping onto Juice’s features.

“Yea, he was running a behind schedule. Had places to be.”

Jax looked over at him, “Where the hell did you have to be that could’ve been more important, bro?”

Juice ran his hands down his face, knowing that he was going to have to cop to it sooner or later, “When we met I was, um…she actually…” he shook his head, “She’s the one who woke me up the other day. Made sure I was alright.”

The entire incident had clearly already faded from Jax’s memory because he looked as lost as he had been before Juice said anything. You smiled, “I made sure he eventually made it to his eight o’clock feeding.”

Recognition flashed across Jax’s face and he laughed, “Jesus. Sorry you had to be a part of that.”

“Sure, her you’ll apologize to,” Juice rolled his eyes.

“She didn’t deserve it,” Jax chuckled and shook his head, “Well it was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’ll leave Juice to try and clean up whatever mess he might’ve made.”

He walked away from the both of you and you could head him laughing to himself as he approached the rest of the guys. You and Juice stood there facing each other, neither one of you really knowing what to say.

You broke the silence, “Won’t lie to you, Juice,” it felt nice to finally be able to address him as something, “over the past few days when I’ve been trying to think about what your life was like for it to land you in that situation, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“You’ve been thinkin’ about me?” he smirked.

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “You made quite the impression,” you looked him in the eyes, “I’m glad you’re alright though.”

He chuckled, “Not the worst thing they’ve ever done to me.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Well that’s a little concerning.”

“Sorry you got, uh, subjected to that,” he shook his head, “wrong place, wrong time.”

You waited for him to meet your gaze and you flashed him a smile, “I wouldn’t quite say that.”

There was a light in his eyes that was so enticing, “Right. Well. I’m glad I got a chance to make a better first impression. Sort of. Maybe,” he laughed. There were a few beats of silence before he spoke up again, “What brings you here anyway?”

You nodded towards the garage, “Car broke down.”

“Shit.”

Your laugh was a hollow, “Yea. Fucking sucks. Hoping they can fix it without bleeding me dry.”

Juice thought hard about it for a few moments, “I’ll take a look at it. I’ll see what I can do, see if I can get you a deal or something.”

“Yea?” you couldn’t hide your relief.

He nodded, “Yea. Least I could do.”

“You’d really be saving my ass.”

He laughed, “Guess that would make us even.”

You chuckled and nodded, “Guess so.”

He paused for a moment, eyes glued to the pavement, “If you want, you could, uh, you could give me your number,” he looked up at you, “and I’ll give you a call when I get it all sorted.”

You smiled, “Alright. Sounds good,” you held out your hand for his phone and quickly added your number to his contacts, “Hope to hear from you soon, Juice.”

“Juan,” he said quietly as he took the phone back from you.

“Hm?”

He looked at you, “Juan. My name is Juan.”

You smiled, “Well, then, Juan, I’ll talk to you soon,” you paused and bit back a laugh, “Try to keep yourself out of sticky situations, alright?”

“Well now at least I have you to call just in case,” he smirked.

“Won’t be able to come and get you until you fix my car,” you chuckled, “So at least be careful for a few days.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Good,” you stepped in and gave him a quick hug, “Thank you, Juan, seriously.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” you flashed him a smile before turning and continuing your way out of the parking lot.

You chanced a look back over your shoulder and saw that he was still standing there staring at you with a smile and a dreamy look on his face. You laughed and shook your head as you turned back around. There was something to be said about memorable first impressions, and something told you that you had landed yourself in an adventure when you met him. You were excited to find out what was in store.

[anika-ann]

3+1 (Un)Wanted Mistletoe Encounters

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 4200

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary:  Kissing under the mistletoe is one of the most famous Christmas traditions; so obviously, it is not Christmas without it at the Tower.

Unfortunately for the occupants, you are not fond of the tradition – at all. 

...or are you?

Warnings: cliché trope, pushy Pietro, discussion of dub-con I guess, language, fluff

A/N: Idea born from this video where John Mulaney says: “If any decoration needs to be MeToo’ed…” and goes on.

Beatiful divider by firefly-graphics

1.

You were no Grinch.

In fact, you actually liked Christmas and the Holiday season, you enjoyed both giving and receiving and you appreciated when people found time to spend it together, whether in their own family circle or with their chosen one.

But. There was one significant ‘but’.

And with this being your first Christmas with the Avengers, Sam Wilson was about to learn about the said but first-hand, because that sweet kind-hearted dumbass with a sass streak walked right into it.

Quite literally.

December 23th, you woke up well-rested, got breakfast, wrapped several presents and were on your way to hunt down a lunch in the communal kitchen, when a voice stopped you in the doorway, where you nearly ran into Sam. Nearly.

“Ah-oh,” he hummed, a shit-eating grin spreading on his handsome face and you stopped dead in your tracks, frowning at the ominous sound.

“What?”

And then came the fateful words: “You’re standing under a mistletoe.”

You see, here was a thing; the tradition of hanging a mistletoe and meeting people under it by chance as an excuse to get a kiss from someone was… stupid. Downright idiotic. Pushing people into something they didn’t have a chance to back out from. Forced affection.

Yeah, that was not happening even if Sam was a real swell guy and you did find a newly hung mistletoe above your heads indeed as you briefly looked up to check if his words were true.

“Okay. And?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, his tone turning slightly wavering.

“…And so am I?”

“And?” you continued, crossing your arms on your chest defensively, already preparing a rant that would hopefully spread like wildfire and ended this dumb tradition altogether. Or well, at least spread around the Tower so no one would ever try to corner you again.

“Really?” Sam deadpanned and you stared right back at him, your face probably displaying precisely how you felt; unimpressed.

“Yes, really,” you emphasized and pointed up at the offensive plant for a good measure. “This is a stupid concept, objectifying people, women especially. It’s about people being forced into showing affection they might not even feel. It’s bordering on a damn dub-con if not non-con.”

Sam blinked a few times, instinctively retreating as he felt you heating up. He raised his hands in a no-harm gesture to show he got your point.

But you were already on roll and you glimpsed Tony in the kitchen, so you thought that there was no harm in him hearing your speech too, just to make sure that the smug loveable bastard of a billionaire got the message as well.

“It’s like all those poor kids being asked why don’t you give your granny a hug before we go and a kiss to your granddad— well, it’s because I don’t want to and it’s my choice to give affection to someone! And now this thing, this is the tip of the iceberg, really, the last fucking drop- it needs to be Me Too’ed, I swear.”

You found yourself panting as you finished, your hands on your hips now – not that you realized you had put them there – and your belly hot and angry for some inexplicable reason; maybe it was the fact that it was Sam, amazing, friendly and understanding Sam Wilson, who had to go and point this stupid poisonous plant out for you; and have the audacity to ask for a kiss.

Dammit!

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he apologized sincerely, voice kind and without any hint of hurt or mockery. “It won’t happen again. I see that you might have a point in this.”

All the fight instantly left your body, replaced by warmth of friendship, mingling with a shiver of shame for your quick judgement and outburst. You sighed, easing your posture and offering and apologetic smile in return.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a big deal of that-“

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re kinda right.”

“Damn right I am,” you hummed, feeling the corners of your lips rise automatically as Sam chuckled and shook his head at your antics.

But hey – you were right. You were not sorry for that.

Still snickering to himself, Sam sidestepped you in the door and patted your shoulder.

As you continued your path as well, you would swear you heard Tony mutter under his breath that you were a Grinch.

Jerk.

2.

“Hey! Don’t I get a kiss?” Clint called out a complaint as you met both stepped into that damn doorway at the same time.

As he pointed up, all you could do was to sigh, close your eyes and count to ten.

It had only been like four hours maybe; perhaps the word hadn’t gotten to him yet that you were not a fan of making out with random people – even if they were family – just because it was Christmas; or as Tony had put it, that you were a Grinch.

Personally, you thought that his insult had been inaccurate; you had given it a thought. Maybe you were more of a Scrooge. Perhaps you should tell him next time you saw him, just to see his face; Tony did pride in his ability to come up with witty nicknames.

You almost spitted out Bah, humbug now, just because.

“No, you don’t,” you said flatly instead, causing Clint’s jaw to quite literally drop as he looked at you with indignation and horror in his eyes.

“But--- but- mistletoe!” he stuttered and you sighed, deciding to explain it to him too – patiently.

“Why should some stupid plant tell me when someone is worth my affection? Someone who allegedly deserved it by simply standing under the same plant as me, no less? Get. Out. Not happening.”

You winced a bit as you registered the snappy tone you used.

Well. Half of the task of explaining it to him patiently went right, you’d call that a success, you supposed.

The poor archer just blinked, staring at you dumbfounded and mildly hurt; as if you had just told him that Santa Claus was nothing but a trick. Phew, as if you were that heartless…

Just-- logic. In fact, you had given this tradition a generous amount of thought since your last encounter under it and you figured out where it came from, historical inaccuracy be damned.

“I mean, where did the idea even come from? I bet it was just because some dude saw another guy mouth-to-mouth a girl, who happened to eat some of this poisonous parasite, may I add, and she was dying, so he gave her rescue breaths before continuing CPR. And the dude thought, that’s a great idea! Let’s make this a habit, just without the poisoning! Yeah, no. You’re not getting a kiss, Clinton,” you finished, satisfied with yourself as you managed to sound calmer this time.

Also, you were kinda proud of yourself for coming up with this story; it seemed very likely.

“That’s, uhm… an interesting take on history,” Clint hummed, watching you with uncertainty and hesitance and your heart stumbled in your chest as you guessed he was about to say something… cheeky, and outraging, in his cute brotherly way. “I need a hug at least tho.”

There we go.

“Nice try.”

You smirked and sidestepped him to be on your way and almost bumped into Steve, quickly shooting him a smile and disappearing out of sight before a silly idea about him and the stupid plant could form in your head – that would be bad and highly inappropriate, as was your crush on him, not to even mention your feelings—bah -!

“What did you do to her?” you heard the sweet supersoldier ask, a hint of accusation in his voice. Your smile widened, heat rising to your cheeks. Always so chivalrous; your heart could fucking melt.

“I asked for a hug after she refused to give me a kiss under a mistletoe,” Clint ratted you out, still hurt and honestly confused.

You stopped in your tracks as you rounded a corner, chewing on your lip guiltily.

Poor Clint; perhaps you had gone too hard on him… he couldn’t have known. You had to be kinder about it next time – after all, you might have been with them for almost a year now and they made you feel like you fit despite being so-so late to the Avengers party, but all of you still had things to learn about each other.

“Ah, you haven’t heard from Sam. Sorry,” Steve’s voice reached your ear, a notch kinder than before, compassionate even.

Compassion; another quality of Steve’s that you loved-

Bah, HUMBUG, that is not that, the L word is a bit much, that is not what’s happening-

“Wait, you knew- oh… Yeah, a heads-up would be nice,” Clint grumbled and made a pregnant pause, the sign of another prefect line coming. You held your breath in anticipation. “So are you gonna give me a hug or should I just get coffee, aka the hug in a cup-“

You held back laugher and swallowed the fondness for the good-natured archer before you could rush back and give him the damn hug.

“Coffee’s always a safe choice,” Steve replied and you thought you heard a chuckle and a grunt, unable to supress a giggle as you jogged away before they could notice you were still within hearing range.

Clint’s following monologue faded away as you walked.

“Nobody likes me. Nobody. I’m gonna die alone, surrounded by people who are too emotionally constipated to give a man a damn hug…”

Yeah, maybe you should give him a hug next time you saw him… no mistletoe though.

3.

You truly believed that that would be the end of it; after all, a day had passed since the first incident, the incident that was left without a kiss, and you doubted anyone was out of the loop at this point.

That was stupid of you. Naïve even. You jinxed it.

You were just after light breakfast, ready to get a little work out in – complete with tacky remixes of Christmas songs prepared to cheer you up – when the supposedly fastest man in the Tower, and possibly the whole world, pretty much bumped into you.

And he had to bump into you just as you were walking through that fucking doorway with that fucking plant which you were supposed to put down right after the encounter with Sam, dammit.

But no, you didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun; in fact, Clint had taken it his personal mission to meet as many people as he could under the mistletoe to get a kiss… or a hug. Wanda hapilly shared affection with others, either kissing their cheek of hugging them. People were having fun.

So, obviously, you let it be, confident everyone knew better than to corner you.

No good deed ever went unpunished, especially in the Holiday season.

Pietro grinned as he spotted you, downright delighted, and spread his arms almost as if creating a cage around you, leaving very little room to escape.

You did not like that.

“A kiss for a guy who caught you under a mistletoe?” he hummed warmly with a sprinkle of cheek and despite his cheery demeanour, you couldn’t help yourself and rolled your eyes.

“In your dreams, Maximoff,” you huffed, trying to duck under his arm, only for him to move it so quickly it was only a blur to you.

Quick to move, slow to take a hint. Yep, that kind of behaviour had Pietro written all over it… Okay, now you were being mean, but he was being an ass, grinning wider and adding a wink to the mix, so it was only fair.

“How did you know? I thought it was just my sister who was telepathic?”

“Pietro, leave her alone,” Wanda spoke as if on cue, eyeing her brother with a frown from her spot behind the counter where she was trying to figure out a recipe for a special Christmas pastry from her old country.

A hint of a pout appeared on Pietro’s lips as he reciprocated Wanda’s gaze; unfortunately for you, he was still aware enough of you attempting to escape his cage, so far without using force; though you were inclined to violence should it be necessary.

“What?! It’s tradition! I thought Americans loved that!”

“Well, not all of us, so-“ you explained with a sigh, catching a glimpse of Steve as he now looked up from his spot on the couch where he had been nestled with a sketchbook for the past twenty minutes.

“I could kiss you before you even notice,” Pietro argued smugly, his expression earning a wolf-like edge as you glared back at him.

Well, it seemed your workout was just about to start, you thought, as you balled your hand into a fist, subtly testing the readiness of the muscles of your leg, prepared to kick the damn man-child to his shin or worse.

“She said no.”

Both your and Pietro’s heads snapped to Steve, who was watching the other man with intense displeasure, all complete with the mildly adorable wrinkle on his forehead – a sign of disappointment and irritation – and a voice that carried the gravity of a Captain’s order.

Which in this situation stirred something in your belly, warmth swelling in your chest as he rushed to your rescue; one not needed, but still appreciated. You didn’t react to Steve’s words aside from giving him a quick grateful smile and shooting Pietro a childish told-you-so look.

“She doesn’t have to do things just because it’s considered a tradition. Leave her be, Pietro,” Steve added, less snappy and simply requesting from the speedster to have a tiny bit of respect for your wishes.

Pietro was most definitely pouting now, but he dropped his arms and released you, still blocking the doorway.

“This is ridiculous,” Pietro muttered under his breath, only for you to hear and you gritted your teeth, irritation spiking again.

“You are being ridiculous. Now move or I swear I’ll slap you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Eagle.”

Oh, we’re doing nicknames now? He could use your title earned by being fast and occasionally deadly all he wanted, flattery would get him nowhere at this point.

“Wouldn’t even see it coming, Speedyboy,” you challenged, chin raised in defiance.

It was ironic, really, how much everyone seemed to insist on following this stupid tradition, even with you. At this point, it was practically everyone but Steve; everyone but the one person you’d be willing to kiss – mistletoe or not, though the plant would at least give you an excuse.

But nope, you just had to get stuck in the doorway with this moron instead.

“Ooookay, you two,” Natasha sing-sang, as she was approaching you from the corridor; you completely missed her arriving, that was how much Pietro irritated you. “Maximoff, move, you’re blocking the doorway. And if you corner her like this again, I’ll kill you in your sleep and you’ll never see that coming,” she promised, voice icily serious despite the twinkle in her eye.

You had no doubt she would deliver just what she promised.

Which was exactly why you leaned over to kiss her cheek, earning a brilliant smile from her and a light brush of her lips against your own cheek.

“Thanks, kotenok,” she hummed just as Pietro gaped and complained.

“That’s so unfair.”

You smirked at him, throwing the smugness he had treated you with right back at him as you went to walk away.

“I give affection to whoever I want and whenever I want. Let your super quick brain process that. Happy Holidays.”

You completely missed the slow smile that spread on Wanda’s face at one point of the whole exchange.

+1

You decided to stop walking through that damn doorway altogether – just in case.

But at the moment, no one was around, so you made an exception since you considered yourself safe. Though main part of the feeling of security was that you didn’t think there was anyone left of the Tower tenants (who didn’t pay rent at all, somehow) who wasn’t aware of your opinion on the dumb tradition. No one who would be stupid enough to try.

Yet, when you glimpsed a large figure about to walk through the doorway just as you were few feet from it, you halted in your steps, letting them pass first.

And then there was a gust of wind, a warning coming a second too late and a harsh push to your shoulder from behind.

“Running through!”

You, the newest addition to the Earth’s mightiest heroes, Eagle, known for her quick reactions and not losing her cool easily, only managed to yelp in fright as you were knocked over, unable to hold onto anything and falling straight to the ground.

Two strong hands caught you and pulled you back up before you could hit the floor and you gasped, head spinning from the swift movements-- only to blink your eyes open to meet the prettiest pair of eyes you had ever seen; determined, kind, compassionate, loveable. And so damn blue despite the drop of green in their irises.

Your heart was trying to beat its way out of your ribcage as Steve instinctively pressed his chest against yours, holding you close and secure, grasp firm but careful.

Your gaze couldn’t but wander all over his face as you found yourself in such close quarters with him, his own eyes and his lips – gosh, those lips – working as magnets, always alluring your gaze to linger.

“You okay?”

Mesmerized, you watched those lips to move, barely comprehending what he was asking. His voice was warm; honey sweet and rich in spice, delicious, causing your stomach to flip pleasantly, your heart stammer.

It might have taken you a while to stutter out a reply, but no one ever needed to know about that.

“Uhm… yeah. Thanks-- thanks to you… thank you.”

Steve graced you with a small but no less meaningful smile. “Of course.”

Torturously slowly – as if he didn’t want to let you go any more than you wanted him to – he helped you stand straight and let go of your arms.

The moment you lost his touch, you lost your sanity too. You must have.

Before you could change your mind – or to think anything through – you leaned back to him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. And perhaps on instinct, you kinda aimed more for the corner of his mouth than the cheek.

He felt warm now too – the tips of his ears turned red in an instant and you, with horror, finally realized what you had done; and just how good it felt to finally show at least a little of what you had been trying to ignore and hide for so long.

Despite his apparent surprise and mild embarrassment, his smile widened a fraction, turning pleased.

“What was that for?” he asked lowly, gaze intense as he studied your face, a hint of a glow in his eyes, something brighter than hadn’t been there before. Hope, maybe?

You certainly hoped. Because you just made an ass of yourself, having acted without thought… and it never felt so good and so awkward at the same time.

Your brain had never been so quick and dumb to come up with a poor excuse either.

“We’re…. we’re under a mistletoe?” you offered reluctantly, your lips still burning after the brief contact with his, head once again nearly spinning due to the proximity – was it just the dizziness or was he leaning in closer?

“I thought you didn’t follow that tradition,” Steve hummed with a grin slowly spreading on his face and through the fog of lovesickness, it finally dawned to you.

You had done exactly what you scolded Sam, Clint and Pietro for – you just went and kissed Steve, no questions asked, no consideration of his possible discomfort.

God, you were such an idiot!

See, that’s why you have banned yourself for as much as imagining kissing Steve and meeting him under the mistletoe! Because when your brain went down that road, it stopped working altogether!

You swiftly retreated a few inches, horrified.

“I—I don’t. I mean. I-- I-I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, words spilling from your lips as the panic rose in your chest. And yet, there was warmth, a pleasant feeling coiling in your belly, breaths coming out short as Steve seemed to erase the distance you had created, his gaze studying you, landing on your mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that! What was I thinking—gosh, I didn’t want to make you-“

You stopped as Steve’s lips kept erasing the distance and ended up a breath from touching yours, tempting, his eyes shining bright with a simple unspoken question. You instinctively licked your lips, heart stumbling in your ribcage.  

“---uncomfortable. Yes, please-“

And then he was kissing you, a little smile playing on his lips as they danced with yours, sweet and soft, hand moving to your nape, thumb caressing the side crook of your neck, drawing a content sigh from you as your eyes fluttered shut, letting you sink into the kiss you had been craving for almost a year.

Your hands sought out his shoulders as he cradled your face, gentle and guiding so he could take more and all you wanted was to give it to him, give him everything he asked for and take it from him too.

Your toes definitely curled in the thick fluffy socks you wore when his fingers squeezed your nape briefly before he withdrew – as if he once again didn’t want to let go for something so boring as oxygen. You wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment, dizzy from the blissful turn of events.

As you inhaled nevertheless, you were grateful that Steve stayed close enough for you to breathe in him, relieved and delighted smile on your face as you licked your lips, savouring the sensation.

When you met his gaze, you saw nothing but fondness; and your heart could melt.

Steve liked you too. Steve kissed you like he meant it. Now you could die a happy woman but you rather not. You’d rather kiss him again if he was willing.

“Still sorry I did it without asking first,” you whispered an apology even though you were not sorry at all since it led to this.

“It’s okay. I just hope it wasn’t just the tradition that pushed you into kissing back.”

You chuckled and then chewed on your lower lip when thinking of a propriate retort, not missing that his eyes followed the action. Oh, he definitely liked to back, okay. Why had you never kissed before, again?

“I only give affection to whoever I want, whenever I want,” you threw back at him, the words that had a whole new meaning in contrast to when being told to Pietro; not a turn-down, quite the opposite in fact.

And you leaned in, greedy for at least one more kiss, Steve just watched you with a smile, eyes flickering to your lips.

“That’s good to know.”

He didn’t sound like he complained at being at the receiving end of your affection whatsoever.

Maybe, mistletoe wasn’t so stupid after all…

Three rooms over, the red-haired witch was smiling widely as she, thanks to her mental powers, caught a glimpse of what was happening in the kitchen doorway.

“It worked,” she announced, blinking to fully return herself to the present. “Nice work this time, brat moy.”

Pietro scowled at Wanda and couldn’t but wonder about the plan she had orchestrated and asked him to execute.

“How did you know, sestra?”

Wanda just shrugged.

“I had my suspicions before. But when you ran into her the last time, I checked her mind to see just how uncomfortable you made her,” she explained, giving one more scolding glare for his inappropriate behaviour. But well, it led to this and he helped now, so… he was good. “She literally thought she wouldn’t mind being under the mistletoe with the Captain.”

“Lucky bastard,” Pietro muttered, expression only half-sour.

“Shush. Be happy for your teammates. You just flirt anyway.”

The speedster pouted, but didn’t protest; he in fact was happy for the two members of the extended family him and his sister had found. And he indeed was only flirting, enjoying your reactions, talking back and teasing. It was all good fun and he did wish you and the Captain well…

But.

“Well, yeah, but now I won’t be able to do that or to look at her twice. Not without Captain having my head,” he grumbled and Wanda nodded with a grin, not feeling all that bad for him.

It wasn’t like he had his heart broken – more like had his ego tickled; and he had been needing some of that for a while.

“That’s true. Looks like you gotta be faster with the next girl you get your eye on, brat.”

The speedster gasped, shocked at her audacity. “I’ll show you fast-!”

Wanda laughed as she used her powers to freeze him on spot to get a head start.

Now, the Holidays felt truly happy indeed.

S.R. Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

If this fic feels like it’s written differently, then I guess that’s fair… I tried to make the style more drabble-like and failed epically, because I just cannot write short and without too many feelings :D

Anyway.

Happy Holidays to you all! May you be given love and affection!

[whimperwoods]

Oswin - The Archdevil

Part 2 of a new series about Oswin Greystone, wizard con man and deeply unfortunate man.

So anyway, yeah, the captain of the guard wants a pet wizard. Things are not looking great for poor Oswin. They’re not looking great in his own series, now, because this is long enough to need a readmore. Let me know if you want to be on a taglist and I’ll start one. I’m not sure how much of this there will be, but he and his creepy captain really grabbed my imagination, so certainly there will be some more after this.

Continuation of this post.

tw: abuse, tw: abuse of authority, tw: fantasy police brutality (though he’s kind of stopped pretending to be acting as a cop at this point), tw: fantasy devil worship, tw: pet whump (working toward it anyway), tw: devil contracts

*****

Oswin’s legs couldn’t hold him, but the whip that had nearly killed him was back in the guard captain’s hand, so he kept dragging himself along beside him, crawling awkwardly forward on his good hand and his knees and nearly tangling himself up in the robes that, with the back sliced open, hung down in his way, barely attached to him anymore.

At the bottom of the steep, winding staircase, Oswin’s limbs were already quaking, and he let out a soft whimper that made his throat ache.

The captain moved around him and squatted down in front of his head, cupping his face in one hand. “First choice, pet. You’re going up two flights of stairs, up to my chambers over the main office. You may crawl, you may be dragged, or you may be carried. I spent too much on that healing potion to hope for dragging, but you’ll need to be a very good boy if I carry you.”

Oswin’s brain couldn’t catch up. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. This wasn’t how people talked. It wasn’t how people were. Except - wasn’t it? He’d been in the courts of petty, tyrannical lords before, on occasion. He’d watched men who could get away with it pinch serving women and belittle servants and - and perhaps that was what this man thought was happening. Perhaps he thought Oswin a servant, or likely to become one. And without Oswin’s books available to him, maybe he was right.

Oswin wanted to look down, to avert his eyes, but his time when he tried, the captain kept a steel grip on his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. They were dark, a brown that tended toward gray, without any of the warmth of his own, and hard as stones. He swallowed heavily, the pain in his throat insignificant next to the pain still raging across his back, but still easily made worse.

It had been hard enough getting himself to the foot of the stairs, and he couldn’t imagine breathing or moving would be easier on an incline.

“I can be a good boy, Master,” he whispered.

The captain smiled. “Clever. I’ll have to keep my eye on that. But then, I knew you would be. Come on, put your arms around my neck.”

Oswin knew he was a little underfed, but the captain picked him up like it was nothing. The pressure of the captain’s arm across his ruined back felt white-hot, and he cried out hoarsely as he wrapped his arms around the captain’s neck and tried to hold himself up, away from the contact. He wasn’t strong enough, and had to settle back into his new master’s grip, his eyes filling with tears and his breath growing ragged again.

“That doesn’t sound like being a good boy,” the captain whispered into his ear, a low half-growl, “That sounds like complaining when you’re being done a favor.”

Oswin forced himself to breathe through the pain, to catch his breath, to talk. His voice came out strained, and barely above a whisper. “No, Master, please! I’m grateful! I just -” he grunted in pain, in spite of himself, “I just needed to adjust but now I can be - I can be fully grateful, Master, please.”

He wasn’t sure he’d ever begged so much in one day, but this time it seemed to work, or at least, his master didn’t drop him down the stairs. Instead, the captain started climbing, not winded no the stairs even carrying Oswin’s weight. Oswin shivered in the man’s arms. He’d hoped during his whipping, before his mind fully abandoned him, that the beating would stop when the captain grew tired, but he was certain now that that hadn’t been the case.

He’d been in dangerous spots before, but this time - this time he couldn’t afford the sob that threatened to rise up in his throat, so he buried his face in the side of the captain’s neck, clinging more tightly so that the man wouldn’t think he had any thought of trying to get away.

The captain’s pleased little hum made the pressure behind Oswin’s eyes spike, but he couldn’t afford the tears, so he focused instead on his breathing, on keeping it steady, on leaning into the captain’s grip so as not to fall, and then they were at the top of the stairs and his master was still carrying him, his footsteps steady as he walked through a small receiving room, a smaller office, which was little more than a closet with a desk in it, and into a sparsely-decorated bedroom.

The captain set Oswin down on the floor, just inside the door, and Oswin watched as he pulled an old, soft-looking rug to the side and revealed a set of sigils carved into the floor in circles, which he calmly traced over in chalk, reinforcing them.

Oswin’s skin crawled, and his stomach soured, but he knew he had no hope of making it down the stairs, much less out of the building, without being caught and, presumably, tortured to death.

The captain retrieved a set of fine wax candles, more expensive than Oswin would have expected in a room like this, and Oswin thought, passively, that a quick death might have been worth it, but that wasn’t what he’d been promised.

The captain lit most of the candles and then came toward Oswin, manhandling him into the center of the circle without a word, and then arranging him on his knees, barking a single order: “Kneel.”

Oswin’s hands were bound behind his back, and he hung his head, not sure if he was going for deferential, or just for too pathetic to hurt again. Either way, the effort of staying upright soon took all of his attention, so that he hardly noticed the final candle being lit.

An enormous, winged figure stepped into the room, out of nowhere. He seemed to fill the space entirely, then shrunk down to merely looming, a head and a half taller than the guard captain and clearly strong enough to break either of them in half.

Oswin’s master was beside him, and knelt, too, albeit only on one knee, bowing deeply to the archdevil.

As the captain’s back straightened, the devil said, “Rise. Why do you request an audience, my champion?”

The captain got to his feet, but then bowed again, still standing. “I humbly propose an addendum to my contract, Master.”

Oswin’s mouth dried instantly. Power radiated from the archdevil like nothing he’d ever felt before, and his voice dripped with it. Was this fool really going to try to negotiate with it?

The archdevil laughed. “I already own your soul, child. What else is left to offer?”

The captain gestured toward Oswin. “His, for a start.”

Oswin looked up in surprise, and instantly regretted it. It had been one thing to sneak glances at the archdevil through his eyelashes; it was another to look directly up at him, meeting a pair of terrifying eyes that seemed made entirely of fire.

“You think you can make contracts with other people’s souls?”

“I can if you’re willing to agree to my terms - what I want is his soul, but not to keep, of course. I’m happy to cede it back to you the moment he dies. And my original contract stipulated that I was willing to work for you, but not to proselytize. It was a point of contention at the time, if I recall, but I told you I would not be certain enough to promise such a thing, outside myself, for some years. It has been ‘some years,’ Master, and I’m happy to find you new followers, provided that it does not jeopardize the other work I do for you.”

“And your interest in his soul?” the devil asked, still looking Oswin in the eye. Oswin found himself paralyzed, unable to look away. Under that devilish gaze, he felt like his chest was being torn apart, his insides pulled out and studied, even though no one was touching him.

“I’ve always wanted a pet wizard,” the captain said casually, “Call it professional curiosity. I know my magic is yours, of course, Master, but I’d like to study those humans who do it on their own - and I’d like to harness it. I won’t be learning myself, of course. I know where my skills lie, and the purpose you’d have me put them to. But I don’t like the idea of humans with power, and I want this one under my thumb, where I can learn to tear those apart.”

Oswin was shaking, the wounds across his back pulsing again, agonizing, while the devil’s eyes continued to rove over his front. He felt like a bug, pinned to a scientist’s paper, but the paper was burning, too, acidic and deadly.

“And why this one?” The devil’s eyes suddenly left him, turning their full force on the captain, and Oswin sagged forward, gasping for breath.

“This one’s a very interesting case,” the captain said. “No respect for a contract, which I’m hoping to beat out of him, but for once I had a wizard in my sights who wasn’t blatantly dangerous, and I thought I’d make good on the opportunity. He’s been selling counterfeit spell scrolls, and then disappearing to ply his trade somewhere else in town before his victims actually try to read or copy the damned things. The thing is, we know he’s strong enough that he could make the real thing, were he properly - motivated. He’s useful, but in need of - management.”

The archdevil hummed thoughtfully, and the captain added, “In our attempts to capture him, he displayed quite a bit of power and - spunk. I know better than to think I could control him without your direct assistance, my lord. But I hope to use him in your service.” He bowed again, more quickly this time.

The archdevil stepped forward into the circle, which Oswin had really been hoping he couldn’t do, and reached down, raising Oswin’s chin to make him look into those flaming eyes again, and nearly lifting him off the ground by the head as he did it.

“And I suppose it doesn’t hurt that he’s a pretty little thing, hmm?” the devil asked, his flame eyes flicking quickly to the captain and back.

The man chuckled. “No, my lord. It does not. Nor does it hurt that he’s already proven he breaks beautifully. You should have heard him begging earlier.”

“We will negotiate the details without him,” the archdevil said imperiously, “It’s simpler that way. And he can agree or refuse.”

Oswin was nearly hyperventilating in the devil’s grip.

“I’m not sure which I think is more interesting,” the devil added casually, before letting go of Oswin’s face and waving his hand in a pattern too quick for even Oswin’s practiced eyes to follow. A blanket of silence fell over him and he could hear nothing, not even his own breathing, for so long that he found himself collapsed inward before the sound returned, bowed low, with his forehead on the floor and his chest and stomach cushioned against his legs, where he could feel the rise and fall of the breaths he couldn’t hear and know that he was still alive.

He realized he was sobbing in dry, heaving gasps only when sound came rushing back to his ears, but he wasn’t sure how long he had been doing it.

“Very well,” the archdevil said, “Lift his head. I want to look him in the eyes again.”

The captain’s hands forced Oswin upward, tilting his head back to make him look up at the looming devil.

“Oswin the wizard,” the archdevil said, power already crackling in his voice in a way that seemed to bind up the air in Oswin’s lungs. “I assume there’s a surname that goes with that.”

“G-greystone, my lord,” Oswin said, the answer tearing out of him in spite of his dry mouth and aching throat, “My father was a mason, but thought to better himself, or at least our family.”

“Hmm, well, now you’ll be in service of a captain of the city guard - and of me. It seems he’ll be getting his wish.”

Oswin shuddered. The archdevil’s voice was oil-smooth, but so, so dangerous. He nodded wordlessly, knowing better than to disagree.

“Should you agree to cosign this addendum with my champion,” the archdevil continued, “You will be bound, body and soul, to his service. Your soul will be mine, to be delivered upon your permanent death. You will be marked as mine, but you will not receive any of my power, nor will you be allowed to use yours outside of your master’s orders.”

The archdevil’s mouth quirked upward into a smile. “I should warn you, wizard, this is an extremely bad deal for you. But my champion assures me that you are a genuine affront to order, and that whether you sign or not, you will be brought to heel. Or you could choose to be tortured to death. But you should know that your master’s contract with me stipulates that if you do not cooperate, he may kill you up to five times and have you returned to his care to try again. I have never seen a man strong enough to withstand being tortured to death a third time, much less a fourth. I’m afraid a bad deal is the only one you’ve got.”

Oswin’s mind swam. He was trapped again, pinned by those eyes, and he was burning, he was sure of it. His mind felt like it was caught in an earthquake, struggling to run to safety with the land bucking underneath him. Just as he took in a breath to speak, the archdevil interrupted him.

“Do not think you can make a deal of your own with me, instead, Oswin Greystone. This one likes a challenge, and he is a useful servant. I don’t make contracts with the desperate. Not worth the work of keeping an eye on them. Break his hold on you, and I will let the consequences be what they will. But try to take your soul back from me and I will destroy you where you stand. I do not have the patience to shepherd one who is reluctant.”

The captain held up a knife. “This agreement will be sealed in blood, or not at all. What do you choose, submission or death?”

The archdevil’s eyes had not left him. Gods, he was burning up. He knew with complete certainty that death, even drawn out, would mean facing this devil again, would mean those flaming eyes burning into him, that oil-slick voice talking to him, that crackling, unbearable power licking at the edges of his own, and he’d just wind up right back here again, waiting to be tortured.

What escaped his lips was a sob, and not an agreement, but the archdevil looked away, making a soft noise of satisfaction. “He chooses submission. Bring the parchment.”

[comingtothetree23]

It’s Gone

Paring: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: This is the beginning of how Reader loses something important to her and tries pushing people away but Peter won’t let that happen.

Warnings: Swearing. 

Word count: 2.3K

A/N: I am planning on making a part 2 of this that focus more on how Reader will be dealing with it. 

"Remember kids, Don't mess this up." Tony reminds you as You and the team enter an abandoned building. You and Peter share a look before nodded at Tony, "I'm serious. This is an important mission." 

"Don't worry, Tony. We'll be fine. No touching anything." You raise both hands before nudgeing Peter, "Right, Spidey?" You wrap an arm around his shoulder.

"Right!" Peter wraps an arm around you with what you assume a goofy smile under that mask. Tony gave you two a dad TM look before walking away looking around the building.

"What are we after again?" Sam asks as he looks around the creepy building. There wasn't much here so why would anybody go here? You frown as you light up a ball of flame in your hand, lighting up the way.

"This man with strange appearance," Steve answers looking around for anyone or anything. You frown as you run your hand against the wall, flinching when you felt what strangely felt like words.

"What do you mean by strange?"

"No one really knows yet." Nat answers as she stops next to you, "Everyone who sees's him always flees before he can do any real damage. Prepare for anything." 

"That's ...vague." You frown as you move your flame covered hand closer to the wall to get a better look at the wall. 

"What's that?" Peter asks as he stares at what looked like a tomb of some sort. You frown as you look over at the tomb, "It looks old." There was what looked like to see a puzzle on it.

"Is that a puzzle?" Steve asks as he moves closer to it. Tony walks over to stand next to Peter and smirks as he gives Peter a pat on the back.

"Pete, this looks your kind of thing." Peter looks over at Tony with drooped shoulders, no doubly frowning under the mask. That made you chuckle before looking at the wall again.

"Can anyone understand this?" You turn toward everyone as Nat and Wanda walks over, taking a good and long hard look at the wall.

"I can try?" Wanda shrugged before putting a hand on the wall before closing her eyes. Her hand lit up for a bit as she is apparently reading what the wall is saying.

"Hey buck, help me with this," Sam smirks as he starts to do the puzzle, it was surprisingly simple so far. Bucky smirks before helping him with the puzzle. Peter frowns as he watches this happen.

"Guys, c'mon, this might be a bad idea," Peter says walking closer to the two men, who were at least halfway through the puzzle. They both froze before turning to face Peter.

"C'mon, it won't do any harm." They resumed the puzzle making Peter huff with a cross of his arms. Steve and Tony were walking around looking for any signs of anyone being there.

"I don't understand." Steve sighs as he turns to Tony, "There were witnesses saying the man hid here. where could he have gone?" Steve looked toward a large door.

"He probably left." Tony shrugged before walking toward the doors, "Smarter than other villains." Steve frowns before walking toward the door, completely forgetting about the puzzle and wall the others were distracted with. Wanda opened her eyes with a gasp.

"Stop!!" Wanda turned toward the two adults as they finished the puzzle. She raised her arms to stop them but it was too late, The doors open and a tall bulky man walks out with a frightening smirk.

"Well, well, well, look who it is." You all stand in fighting positions, "The Avengers are the ones who finally free me from my cold dark prison." He let out a dark throaty chuckle at that. 

"You heard of us?" Wanda asks making you all look at her before turning toward the man. The man smirks as he looks at each and every one of you. 

"Kinda hard not to. You can hear and feel everything in that tomb, drunk teens love talking about a group of heroes saving their lives." The man rolls his eyes, "Getting sick and tired of it. But you freed me."

"Not for long," Tony says before sending a blast his way, That causes you all to start fighting him all at once. You sent fireballs his ways, as many as you could.

"The fire warms me." The man says before standing up and taking steps closer, "That tomb is cold the fire warms be greatly." He makes eye contact with you making you frown. He suddenly smirks at you, "I will take your fire." 

"What?" You ask with a confused tilt of the head. You turn to Peter and ask, "No one can do that. Can they?"

"I don't really know. There have never been reports about that happening." Peter explains and for some reason that makes you even more creeped out. Steve took a step forward with an indicating look.

"That won't happen. Avengers!" You all try to charge at him but an inviable force pushes the Avengers behind you as you are lifted into the air, close to the man. The necklace around the man's neck starts to glow, making you fear the worst.

"This won't be long, dear." the man smirks before opening his mouth, your whole body is suddenly covered in fire and the fire is being sucked into his mouth. You let out a scream as you struggle before your body goes limp.

"(H/n)!" Peter yells as the enviable force holds him and the others down. Peter frown before using all his strength to standing up with some struggles and charging at the man. Peter was able to send a hard kick the man way before the man punches Peter making him fall to the ground. 

Your eyes suddenly start to get heavy as you tried to keep them open, you were quickly losing the battle as you feel something being taken away from you. You make eye contact with the man one last time before closing your eyes and passing out. 

Tony flies over and tries to blast him the same time Steve stands up and runs over, throwing punches the man's way. The man momentarily stops taking your power to fight the two. You were just floating in the air as the man was able to get the two down. Tony and Steve got good hits in tho. The man chuckles before continuing what he was doing. 

"We have to stop him!"

"How!?"

"I don't know!" 

The last of the fire leaves your body and goes into the man's mouth. He chuckles as your body slowly goes on the ground. The others finally were able to stand up and run over to your sleeping form.

"(Y/n)!"

"Is she alright!?"

"Oh fuck man!"

"Kid..."

"C'mon (Y/n), show me those beautiful eyes." Peters's voice was almost breaking as he puts your head on his lap, moving a piece of your hair out of your face.

"Thank you, Fire Elemental." The man's voice rang through the room, "For my gratitude, I will give you mercy."  He smirks before using his magic to chain the group up, including you, "I should get going. Thank you again, dear." He smirks before flying off using your flames. 

"Great, just great," 

~~

"This is Sam and Bucky's fault," Tony grumbled as he looked at the chain. You all have been there for quite a while and Peter was starting fear even more since you still haven't woken up.

"Our fault!?" 

"Who opens a tomb before knowing what it does?" Nat raises a brow at the two adults as they all hung from the wall. 

"Dumbass move." Tony grumbles. Peter agreed as he looked over at your hanging frame, no one has asked about you for a bit which made Peter annoyed but they needed to focus on escape. oh wait, they aren't! They're doing the blame game.

"What about (Y/n)!? She got her powers stolen!"

"Hey! Watch it!" Peter nearly growled as he glares at them, "This wasn't her fault! She didn't know this was going to happen." Peter was angered that they could even say that. He looks over with a frown as your hair covered your beautiful face. He sighed angrily as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Peter's right, how is she?" Steve asks as he looks over at Wanda, who was right next to you. She looks at you closely, probably using her magic before nodding.

"She seems to be fine. She should wake up soon." She explains with a nod of her head, sending a look at you. You stirred a little in your sleep before going back to unmoving, Everyone stared at you for a moment.

"Do you guys think she'll be alright?" 

"She'll be fine, she always is," Nat answers as she looks at your sleeping form. Peter knew that she was worried for you, they all were. You loved having your powers, even if there were cons with them. He can't imagine how it'll be for you, how it'll feel for you. 

"She won't like it." Wanda quietly says, already feeling fear and worry through your body.  No one said a thing but they were all thinking the same thing, This was going to destroy you. 

"I don't like this."

"We need to find a way out of here," Peter speaks up before moving his feet in a way that he could push against the chains better. He grunts as he pulls with all of his strength against the chains. He opens his eyes as he realized something, "...Mr. Stark?"

"Yea, kid?"

"You have your suit still, right?"

"...."

"Are you serious Tony!?"

"We've been here for an hour!"

"Did you seriously forget about your suit?" 

"Goddamn it, Stark." 

"Okay, Okay, I got it," Tony grumbles before using the suit. He was able to free all of you, "Who will take sleeping beauty?" He motioned toward your body that was gently laying on the floor. 

"I got her," Peter grunts as he picks you up gently. He holds you bridal style as he tucks your face in the crook of his neck. Tony nods at him before moving forward. Peter stood there for a moment as everyone walks ahead of him, He looks down at you and frown, "Don't worry (Y/n). I gotcha." He started walking toward the group.

~~

The light was on your face making you stir as you try moving away from it, that didn't work. You let out a small groan before sitting up and holding your head. You looked around to see that you were in the medbay bed. You felt a hand in your other hand as you squeezed the hand before looking at the owner, Peter.

Peter was sitting in a chair next to you snoring quietly, still in his spider suit. Honestly, that suit looks like it wouldn't be comfortable in his sleep, not realizing that Peter hasn't left your side since you were freed. 

"Your awake." a voice speaks, making you jump before looking over at Bruce. You let out a sigh in relief as you saw him walking over to your bed.

"Bruce, You scared me." You held your chest as you let out a few giggles, "I had a horrible nightmare." You looked at the floor before sighing, "So what happened?" You looked at Bruce, waiting for an answer. All he did was sigh heavily, making you frown. 

"(Y/n)...." He started but it seemed like he couldn't finish his sentence. You look down in thought before thinking back before flashes of you in the air screaming, fire leaving your body, feeling so helpless.

"It wasn't a dream." You turned toward Bruce, "Was it?" Bruce just stared at you, giving you your answer, "No..." you whimpered out, holding your head leaning forward on the bed.

"(Y/n), It's alright. we'll figure something out." Bruce tried to reassure you but you quickly stood up, "You need to rest." You shook your head before running out of the room. Bruce leans back in his chair with a deep sigh, this was going to effect you greatly.

"Bruce? Where's (Y/n)?" Peter's rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he looked around the almost empty medbay, "Did she wake up yet?" 

"Yea, She didn't take it well." Bruce explains with a frown as he puts some equipment away, "She ran out of here, don't know where she's heading." 

"I'll look for her." Peter stood up getting ready to leave the room, "thanks Mr. Banner." He left the room to see where you have gone. Where do you normally go when your upset? Think, Pete, Think! Got it! Peter thinks he figured out where you were.

Peter went to the roof to see your peacfully sitting there, knowing you your thought were anything but peaceful right now. Peter started walking toward you. 

"Heya Pete." your voice was quiet, "What are you doing here?" It sounds like you've been crying for a bit, making Peter frown. He silently opened his arms which you hugged him back, snuggling your face in his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay?" you sigh in his shoulder and hug him tighter, Your shoulders were shaking. You were trying your hardest not to cry in front of Peter, "Hey, Hey, It's alright." he soothes while gently rubbing your arm. 

"Is it?" You whimper as a few tears leave your eyes, "Will it be okay? Every time I pass someone they always yell me 'You'll be fine', 'we'll find him', or even 'it's okay, you'll live'." You let out a sob as you cling to Peter, making him frown.

"It's going to be hard but... We'll get through this." Peter pulls away before giving you a small kiss on the forehead, "I'll be there every step of the way, alright? How does that sound?" 

"Perfect." You hug him again before letting out a few sniffles. It's going to be hard but you might get through this. You just need some time, hopefully.

[sunflowerfromthefog]

The Trouble with Vaulting Pt 2

Description: Frank learned a thing or two from the Entity, and he likes to share these perks with his friends.

WARNINGS: rape/non-con, violence, little bit of blood, Frank is once again a great big jerk

You can also find my writing on AO3!

A/N: I’m sorry I totally forgot I had made a Tumblr for my DBD stuff.  Anyway, I don’t think I posted this one or the clown one here yet so here you go!

You couldn’t find a single soul in all of the wrecking yard. You’d searched the area, found the generators you needed to power, spotted the exit gates, destroyed a totem, but no people. Unfortunately, you’d spotted Joey, a friend of Frank’s that seemed just as perplexed as you about the lack of humans in the trial. He’d stood on top of a hill and spun in circles for a good five minutes trying to find someone, but for some reason the entity left you two alone. In a way you were happy for it; maybe it would be a little easier to avoid him if you didn’t have to rush around trying to save others. You were good at hiding after Nea and Meg showed you how to stay low to the ground and silent as you jumped over anything. Still, as you worked on a generator you felt a chill along your spine. Glancing over your shoulder you spotted Joey heading right in your direction. You sped off, dashing around a corner and going to leap silently over a window when suddenly you were stopped. The very same black claws that had stopped you in a previous trial grabbed around your waist again and locked you in place “Damn it,” you swore. You wiggled as hard as possible, but it did nothing. Kicking and pounding your fists you let out a scream. “What the fuck!” A leaf crunched beneath a heavy foot. You flinched, slowly raising your eyes to look at Joey’s half-skull mask. His head tilted to the left as he twirled his blade in his right hand. At least this member of Legion didn’t have an obsession with you like their leader did, but you still didn’t like how he was staring down at you. It wasn’t until he looked to his left that you realized he was waiting on something...someone. “Heya, doll,” a familiar voice sang. The skirt of your dress flipped up and you felt two warm hands grab your hips before one slapped your cheek. “Oh, same panties? Dirty girl. Doesn’t the entity give you a change of clothes once in a while? I’d really like to see you in that little red number the one chick’s got. Mmm, tearing that apart would be fun.” You struggled to look over your shoulder, finding another smiling mask. “What?” you questioned. Two killers in the trial? That never happened. That wasn’t possible! “How the hell--” “Lotta questions, eh, Joey,” Frank said. Joey nodded. “Let’s just say...I learned a thing or two from my time in the fog and well, Joey just thinks you’re really cute. And I don’t mind sharing.” Your heart leapt into your throat. No, this couldn’t be happening again. You began to hyperventilate as you kicked at Frank, swung your fists at Joey and warn them to stay away. “Aw, come on baby,” Frank chided, “you had so much fun last time. Don’t you remember begging me?” He began to grin his clothed crotch against your ass. In front of you, Joey continued to twirl his knife. Despite yourself you felt a small spark in your core. Damn it, why did the warmth of another have to be so tempting? Even when it’s a killer. “You remember begging me don’t you?” Frank asked again, his voice lower. A zipper in front of you drew your attention, Joey’s black jeans directly in front of your face. He undid the button and pulled out a very dark, throbbing cock, pressing it against your closed mouth. You pressed your lips together as tightly as possible, but all it did was force your assailant to grip your hair and force your head upright. He held the knife towards your face but you didn’t dare open your mouth. Instead you glared at him. A thrust from Frank pushed you into the blade and cut your cheek lightly. Joey pulled it down and slid it between your lips, nearly bringing it to the corner of your mouth for a cut. “Hey, hey,” Frank said, stopping the man. “Easy with the merchandise--I like blood but not--you know--blood.” Your breaths were coming out quick through your nose, still defiant. Joey pulled the knife away and stabbed it between the metal beside you. “I’ll give you a hand,” Frank said with a fake sigh. “Just like old times, eh?” Joey shrugged and nodded, giving his member a stroke. It was longer than Frank’s, thicker too. Frank took his knife and tore through your dress, from the bottom of the skirt to the tag at your neck. You were about to tell him to stop but instead clenched your teeth. Joey was ready for any opening--literally. Pushing the fabric aside, Frank then cut off your panties, leaving you completely naked before the men. You covered your mouth with one hand when you felt the black claws of the entity moving. The tickled along your middle, gripping at your sides and shoulders and hips until you were shifting as it wanted. It turned you around, placing you on your back and grabbing at your wrists, locking them to the window. Despite your best attempts, you screamed, “No! This isn’t--” Joey took the opportunity to grab the sides of your face and shove his dick into your mouth. Your lips stretched painfully as you felt him reach the back of your throat and further. You gagged as he pulled back, only to push back in a little further. You did your best to relax your throat and just as you were about to bite down on the bastard there were fingers inside your cunt. “I like playing with you,” Frank said, “and my mom always said I should learn to share my toys. But if you think of hurting my dear friend here, well, I can’t guarantee what might happen to your friends.” You stilled, the salty taste of precum flowing across your tongue as Joey slowed his pace. He was gentler now, rolling his hips along to make sure you felt everything. “Yeah,” Frank whispered. You couldn’t see him but you could tell his mask was off; his voice no longer muffled. Joey gave a deep thrust, his balls hitting your forehead. He stayed there a moment, his grip getting tighter on your face. One hand moved to your throat and gave a squeeze, making him shudder. He must have liked the feel of your throat tightening even more. “Give her a second,” Frank ordered. Joey listened and pulled out, leaving you a sputtering, gasping mess. Joey gave himself another stroke with one hand and began to grope your breasts with the other. He rolled your nipples between two fingers roughly, holding them too tight and making your body tense. Your thighs held around Frank’s hips, and it was only then you noticed his own cock was out and resting against your lower lips. “It’s fun when you struggle, but it’s also fun when you’re compliant,” Frank said. He gave you a grin, clearly loving the sneer you shot at him. “Be a good girl, and we won’t do the same to your friends next time we see them.” Your breath froze in your chest. Did he...had they done this to the others before? “Mhmm,” Frank hummed. His fingers drummed along your stomach, sliding down your thighs and pushing your knees towards your chest. Joey hooked a thumb in your lips, pulling your attention towards him. Frank continued, “I mean, you’ll always be my favourite, but you can’t always go for the same thing at the buffet, right? Well, I will. If you’re good for daddy.” Joey tugged at your lips, bringing his head to the tip of your lips but not forcing himself in. “You going to be good for daddy?” Frank asked. His tone was sickly sweet. You didn’t want to, obviously. But the idea of this happening to Claudette, Meg, Kate, any of the other survivors made your gut churn. So you nodded. “Then suck that dick, girl,” Frank ordered. You gulped as well as you could with Joey’s thumb still hooked in your cheek. You stuck your tongue out and he was more than happy to close the distance. He slipped into your mouth until his pubic hair tickled your chin, sliding back and forth with small grunts. “Yeah, that’s just perfect.” Frank lined himself up with your entrance and pressed in with one thrust. No preparation like before, nothing. He shoved himself in and made your walls burn, forcing a scream from your lungs and into your throat. The vibration caused a loud grunt from Joey, who pulled back squeezed down on your throat. He stroked himself through his orgasm and shot it into your mouth, ensuring your tongue and lips were coated with his seed. With his hand around your throat you couldn’t spit him out or even swallow to get rid of the bitter salty taste. After a few seconds he seemed spent, his dick softening before your eyes. He finally let go of your throat and just as you went to spit his cum out of you another hand covered your mouth. Frank’s hand. “Swallow, baby, swallow. Don’t waste any of that!” You were still sputtering in an attempt to breathe, but obeyed. Frank was still fully sheathed inside of you, and you would never admit that you wanted him to move. The pain you felt was nothing compared to the desire to have this over with...and maybe get yourself off in the process. Swallowing what was left in your mouth, Frank finally released you and placed his hands on your legs. He pushed your knees further up until they nearly touched your breasts, giving him ample access to push hard into you. “Hey, hold these,” Frank said to Joey. Joey did as he was told and grabbed behind your knees, keeping them wide open. His mask was staring down at your breasts, clearly enjoying the way they bounced with each of Frank’s thrusts. Soon enough Frank began to rub your clit with a light touch. He started to press harder and harder, giving your painful burn a delicious pleasure. Your walls started to clench, no longer desperate to push him out and instead rubbing along his shaft searching your own release. “Ah,” you breathed as Frank pressed his palm to your sensitive nub. “Ngg.” Joey’s head tilted to look at your face and you desperately wanted to cover it. Your arms tensed against your restraints, trapped at your sides. There was nothing you could do to hide the fact that you were getting hot and bothered by your own abuse. So you closed your eyes, pants coming faster and faster to match Frank’s. “What’d I tell ya, Joey?” Frank asked, his hands finding both your breaths and pinching hard. “She loves getting fucked. Loves getting raped.” He laughed loudly. “N-No,” you argued. It did little to prove him wrong. “I-I don’t. I don’t want this or any of th--” Without Frank rubbing your clit your high started to drift away. You moaned in despair--why did he have to drag these out? “Good girls that obey their daddy’s would always agree with them,” Frank told her. Joey pulled your knees harder, making you squeak. “Maybe we’ll have to see if one of the other survivors are good girls…?” You pursed your lips. “I…” “Yes baby? What do you like? Tell daddy.” All through his his thrusts were going from fast to slow to fast again. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it. Your back tried to arch but barely moved against the entity’s hold. “Fuck,” you groaned. Could you really say it? What he wanted… “I...I like it when you fuck me.” “And?” “Sh-share me…” Don’t make me say it, you prayed, please… “And?” “I like it when you rape me,” you whispered. “Louder!” Frank shouted. He straightened and started to pound into you, furiously rubbing your clit with two fingers. You shrieked at the change of pace. The fierce power Frank was putting into fucking you made you want it to stop. It didn’t feel good anymore, though that rubber band in your core was still ready to snap. “Say it!” Frank ordered. “I like it when you rape me!” you screamed. Tears streamed down your temples as you wailed, your orgasm ripping through your while Frank laughed. The electricity shooting through your body, tingling your fingertips and forcing your body to practically convulse in an attempt to move, made your mind numb. Frank continued to taunt you through your orgasm, but soon his own came across him and he pressed as deeply into you as possible to spread his seed. His hips shook with yours, hands holding you there as if you could escape if you really wanted. When your breathing began to slow you swallowed audibly, and Joey released your legs. They fell on either side of Frank, his dick softening inside of you. “What do we say when we get a gift?” Frank asked. “Th-Thank you,” you mumbled. You turned your head away, eyes closed as he pulled out of you and you felt what he left dripping from you. “Thank you.” You heard fabric rustling as Frank put himself back into his pants, and then a sudden heat back beneath your thighs. You opened your eyes, finding Joey’s mask at your lower lips. “What are you doing?” you questioned. “He recovers quick,” Frank behind his friend. He shrugged. Joey had your thighs over his shoulders, and as he dragged his mask from your clit, up your stomach, and nuzzled your breasts you felt his cock against your entrance. With one hand he lined himself up, and then lifted your legs as he slowly slid in. “Nnnn...no,” you mumbled. “No!” “Hey!” Frank said. “That’s not being a good girl.” He leaned against the edge of the window. “I don’t think I’ll let you come this time.” Despite what Frank left in you, and your own juices, you still felt a burn from Joey’s intrusion. He didn’t care for your pleasure as Frank pretended, and used you as if you were a doll. Each thrust gave you a pang as his head reached your cervix. You started to cry and struggle harder. “Hey, remember to pull out,” Frank said, giving Joey a tap on the arm. Joey growled something but when you felt his dick twitching he did what he was told. He pulled out and stroked himself to completion as he had before, spraying onto your stomach and chest. Long thick threads of white decorated your body, both of the men laughing. Frank came around to run his hands through your hair. “Now what do we say?” He played idly with one of your breasts. Weakly, you replied, “Thank you.”

[amerrierworld]

Three Times Over (pt 2)

Ocean’s 8 - fan fiction

Pt 2 due to popular demand ;)

Pt 1: x

Summary: Lou, Debbie, and you. That’s it.

Characters: Lou x Debbie x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,973

Warnings: Smut! First some fluff though.

Comfortable weeks had passed since you agreed to be with both Debbie and Lou. It led to so many shenanigans and cracked-up dates filled with sultry touches and looks that you were sure your face was going to be stuck in the constant grin you carried when the three of you were out. 

“What are you smiling about?” Lou tapped your forehead playfully to bring you back to reality. You were both waiting for Debbie to get out of the change room, clutching multiple shopping bags. 

“Oh, nothing,” you grinned, cocking your head at her before sticking out your tongue. She smiled back, eyes twinkling behind her aviator sunglasses. 

A shopping spree was bound to happen, though you had insisted that they didn’t steal or con any items.

Well. At least not all of them. 

Debbie opened the door and came out wearing a bright purple jumpsuit with awkward holes cut out in the sleeves. She did a little pose and you and Lou shared a glance before simultaneously saying,

“No.”

She rolled her eyes and disappeared back into the change room without a word. You both chuckled and sat down on a small bench.

You put your head on Lou’s shoulder and one arm came to wrap around you. 

“I’m just glad this all happened,” you mused, looking at the change room door. “You’re both a riot to be around, but... I love it. I love you guys.”

“If we’re ever too much to handle you have to tell us, love,” Lou said, stroking your hair. “I know we’re a lot, and we’ve known each other longer than either of us have known you, but this wouldn’t be complete without you.”

You shuffled a bit to look her in the eyes, pulling her glasses off and setting them on your own head. One of your hands trailed over the many necklaces that dangled around her neck, tracing the gold chains. 

“You’re never too much. Either of you. I’ve been very happy.”

Lou grinned and captured your mouth in a sweet kiss. When she pulled away she set her glasses down on your nose and hummed.

“You look good in my things,” she said. You stuck out your tongue again.

“Especially in your bed,” you added and winked. Her smile faltered into something darker for a split second and you felt smug.

A throat clearing caught your attention and you turned to see Debbie, this time in a gorgeous sequinned jumpsuit with numerous colours in zigzagged stripes. Neither you nor Lou hesitated before you both said,

“Yes.”

-

You had a playlist playing in the loft’s kitchen, sliding across the floor in socks and your most comfortable set of clothes. Coffee was brewing and you were finishing boiling a few eggs. Upstairs, your two lovers were just starting to wake up, but you had too much energy to stay in bed.

You cleaned a few dishes, dancing on the spot and slurping coffee loudly. You poured two extra mugs; Lou liked it black, and Debbie liked cream. 

“Well, this is a sight,” a sleepy voice mumbled from the stairs. You saw Debbie shuffling down the stairs, wearing just a large button down -one of Lou’s- and her underwear. 

“Goodmorning, baby,” she said, accepting the offered cup of coffee you held out to her. Your stomach fluttered and dried a few more dishes.

“Goodmorning,” you said in return. 

“You’re up early. What’s with the chores getting done all of a sudden?”

You shrugged. “I woke up and I had energy. I didn’t wanna disturb you two, so I came down here instead.”

“You never disturb us, babygirl. Waking up with you is wonderful.”

You smiled, blushing, but frowned a split second later.

“Y/N?” Debbie sat perched on the countertop, sipping coffee. “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing,” you chewed your lip as you grabbed some plates. “Just something Lou said.”

“And what was that?”

You turned away from her to the sink, silent. Debbie got off the counter and you felt two arms wrap around your waist, a kiss pressing to your shoulder.

“Tell me.”

“She didn’t say anything wrong, she just made me realize that like, you two have so much history. And I’m not a very good con like you, so I just feel like a third wheel sometimes?” 

Debbie was quiet as you talked, hands stroking your sides tenderly. 

“I know it’s stupid, but sometimes I feel like, if you two didn't...  want me anymore, you’d still have each other. And I’d be by myself, you know?”

“Oh, sweetie.”

Debbie turned you and kissed you; different from Lou but wondrously so. 

“We want you, Y/N, you make the three of us complete as a wonderful trio. But I want you too, and Lou wants you. Do you see me dragging her down here just to be with us?”

You shook your head. 

“That’s because I love Lou, but her and I are also individual people who do our own things, and want our own experiences. And some of those experiences are with you.”

You nodded meekly. A hand ran through your hair and cupped your chin.

“Does that make sense? Being with two people is hard, I know. It’s hard for me too. Hell, Lou freaks out about it all the time as well. No matter how long we may have known each other.”

You mumbled a soft, “yes,” before you kissed Debbie again, softly, to convey your understanding. Debbie was smiling as you pulled away.

“How about we go disturb the sleeping monster upstairs?” she grinned, one of her hands wandering down your back and her lips attaching to your neck. You giggled and nodded, hurrying upstairs with her, hand in hand.

“W-huh?” Lou was grumbling into her pillow as you climbed onto the large bed. You teasingly pulled the sheets down to reveal her naked body, covered in kisses and bruises still recovering from the night before. You had your fair share between your legs too. 

You covered Lou’s body with your own, radiating heat. You let your tongue swipe over her ear with a husky good morning. Instantly, Lou’s eyes shot open. Blue eyes stared you down and she moved until you were straddling her. 

“Good morning,” she said with a raised eyebrow, noticing Debbie approaching the corner of the bed, holding two mugs of coffee in her hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just a very energetic and lovely morning,” Debbie said, smiling. She set the mugs down for later and took off the button down, letting it fall to the floor. Lou sat up, and you hooked your arms around her neck to kiss her. The bed dipped as Debbie came on to sit behind you, arms trailing over Lou’s legs.

“What a great way to wake up,” Lou murmured against your lips and you chuckled. “Was this all your idea, baby?”

“No, it was Debbie’s,” you confessed. “But I immediately agreed.”

Your breath hitched as Debbie came up flush against you and her hand trailed between your legs, pushing past your waist band to rub softly at your clit. Your hips rocked, mewling as her other hand came up to grip your hair lightly.

“My good girls,” Lou murmured, watching with blown pupils. Not letting her get away with her smugness, your own hand scratched down her back before leaning down to suck at her breasts. 

The room began to heat up as Debbie and Lou simultaneously worked to strip you of your clothes and the three of you were soon naked, writhing against each other as morning light peeked through the blinds.

You were perched over Lou’s face as she lapped at you eagerly, clinging to the headboard, but never reaching your climax because Lou kept getting distracted by Debbie’s head between her legs. 

“Hmph! Please, Lou, you’re teasing,” you huffed, thighs trembling. She had three fingers inside you, working at curling and pressing against your walls. Your head went back and a low groan escaped your mouth, reaching down to grab a fistful of blonde hair and pulling her closer. 

Her own grunts of pleasure from Debbie’s ministrations vibrated through your whole body and you shuddered as you came, grinding against Lou’s face. Her tongue eagerly pressed against you as you settled down from your high, sweating and breathing heavily. 

You shuffled down to sit on Lou’s chest and watched her face contort in pleasure. You kept pulling and scratching lovingly at her scalp as Debbie worked to make Lou cum. Lou’s fingers dug into your thighs and she froze, mouth open and face flushed beautifully.

Debbie chuckled behind you and you turned to see her licking her fingers clean, lust all over her face and sweaty hair. You looked down at Lou, who pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh. You smirked at each other, sharing the same look you had in front of that change room before.

Instantly, Debbie was overtaken by the two of you. Startled, she didn’t have a chance to react as you pressed against her front, distracting her with kisses and licks. Lou moved to sit behind her, a hand cradling Debbie’s chin and the other pushing her legs further apart from where she was kneeling.

“She always looks so sexy first thing in the morning, doesn’t she, Y/N?” Lou cooed in her ear. She bit her lip and her head came back to rest on Lou’s shoulder.

“She does,” you said in a soft voice, your hands trailing down to press against Debbie’s clit, and sinking two fingers inside immediately. Debbie’s hips jerked, but Lou’s hands forced her down to stay still, one hand on her chin, one gripping her waist.

You worked her up slowly as Lou whispered sweet nothings in Debbie’s ear.

“Look at how good she’s doing, fucking you like that,” she murmured, loud enough for you to hear and blush.

“And you, taking your morning-fuck like an absolute star,” she continued, pulling at Debbie’s earlobe with her teeth. Debbie could only gasp and pant heavily as you added another finger and your thumb worked quick circles against her clit.

Her hands pulled you closer, kissing you desperately, pulling at your tongue and nipping at your lips. Lou chuckled softly as Debbie kissed you and groaned into your mouth while she came. Her body was trying to spasm at the sensations shooting through her, but you and Lou kept her firmly in place.

She settled, panting, leaning against Lou with her full weight and holding you against her. You teasingly licked your fingers in front of her and Lou reached a little further to push sweaty hair strands out of your face. 

Debbie’s face was glowing and all three of you were entirely content. Suddenly, you felt as if you didn’t want to do anything except laze in bed all day with your lovers and they looked ready to do the same until Lou took note of the coffee mugs on the dresser.

And that was how you spent your morning, lounging in bed, barely clothed, as Lou went down to get fresh hot coffee and eggs. Debbie curled up tightly against you and you waited for the Australian to bring breakfast in bed.

When the blonde joined you again she was wearing her thin plaid robe. She set a platter on your lap and shuffled in next to Debbie, a hand reaching to rub your cheek lovingly while sipping coffee.

The three of you settled into comfortable silence as you and Debbie dug into the food, while Lou scrolled through her phone for a bit. Once she took note of how you were scrounging down eggs and toast she nearly pulled the platter from you.

“Hey! Save some for the rest of us, will ya?”

A/N: Here’s a sequel due to popular demand! Y’all are thirsty hoes... but that’s okay because me too :3 Who doesn’t love some Loubbie loving early in the morning? Hope you liked it, lovelies <3

[cthulhuliet]

my high hopes (are getting low)

3.9k words [total 13k words] (part one) (part two) (part three) | AO3 Link | warnings: homophobia, use of slurs, dubious morality, completely unnecessary religious references, implied/referenced self-harm

'Cause my High hopes are getting low because these people are so old The way they think about it all If I tried I would never know

Light Yagami's world view is shifted after a conversation with his father concerning L's sexuality. Anger in his veins and unconfessed feelings bubbling to the surface, Light and L enact a plan of revenge against the homophobic views of the task force.

~

Out of the task force headquarters for the first time in months brought him a certain amount of joy, an extreme weight of his chest- or rather weight off his wrist. With his memories back, himself and Misa cleared of any suspicions thanks to the fake rules he constructed in the Death Note, Light had won.

Of course, there was still much work that needed to be done. This roadblock had lasted longer than Light wanted or anticipated, but no matter. To achieve everything the world needed was going to take time and effort- time and effort that he alone could commit to. He needed to be rid of L as well. Foolish, stupid Misa forgot his name, so that was simply another obstacle he would need to pass. But no matter, tonight was for celebration.

The celebration at a bar only miles away from task force headquarters is not exactly where he would have chosen, but Ryuzaki insisted that if the task force were going out into the public to to celebrate they were to not stray far from headquarters. Light idly looked around the lowlights of the bar, shaking his head into his beer. He wouldn’t be surprised if L had every shop within a 5 mile radius littered with cameras and bugs.

“Attention everyone,” Soichiro stood up, hold his glass out to the detectives, “I would like to make a toast: this is to all your hard work, the long hours, the uncertainty of tomorrow, the progress we made, and-” He pointedly looked at Light , “To the clearing of names.” He raised his glass, “To Light!”

“To Light!” The detective’s echoed, Matsuda softly clapping, and Aizawa giving him a sock to the arm.

“How’s it feel to be a free man?” His father asked, eyes shining behind his glasses.

Light chuckled, “Father, this is the best I have felt in a long time,”

“Here, here!” Mogi agreed.

“Fresh air, sun on your face,” Matsuda mused, “Boy, that Ryuzaki really doesn’t get out much, does he?”

“Can you imagine him coming out to a bar like this, or even a restaurant or gym?”

“No wonder he is so skinny,”

“And pale,”

Light shook his head, “Hey now, no need for any of that,” He took a quick sip of his beer, “You guys may know him, but I was chained to Ryuzaki, ok? Talk to me when you get kicked in the face by him,” The table roared with laughter, Light smirked to himself. “Might just get a kick of PTSD when I eventually do get to cuff Kira,”

Soichiro shook his head, smiling, “We are closer than ever, I can feel it. The real Kira is in our grasp, now that we are all cleared,”

Light huffed dryly, “Well, some of us aren’t fully in the clear,”

Soichiro sighed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Light looked into his father’s eyes: determination but exhaustion were swimming behind his pupils- Light hates L for causing his father so much stress. Even the hardest working, most respectable men need time stress free. God himself created a day of rest for a reason.

“Ryuzaki will come around, I am sure of it,” He idly scratched the stubble on his cheek, eyes on Light but mind elsewhere, “I am not exactly sure what more proof he needs… The young man’s pride is getting in the way of his deductive skills,”

“He did say at one point he did want Light to be Kira…” Matsuda chimed it.

“Precisely,” Soichiro took a long drink, “He will come around, I am sure of it. I mean, look at us now. Even a few weeks ago, and outing such as this was completely out of the realm of possibilities,”

“I am more surprised Ryuzaki himself didn’t come with us just to keep tabs on what we are talking about,”

“Matsuda, you are insane if you believe that he wouldn’t find out some way or another,”

“Ahh, yeah. A small part of me wishes Ryuzaki would come out with us, though. I do have to admit that I am mildly curious as to what he would drink,” Matsuda shrugged.

Soichiro grunted, shaking his head, “I am sure each of us wishes that we knew Ryuzaki just a little bit more. We simply have to make our own interpretations based upon the small bits of information and hints he drops us,”

Light nodded, a small smile on his face, “That man would probably be an even longer investigation than the Kira one,”

The table nodded, but Aizawa drummed his finger on the table, “You guys say that, but I already know everything that I need to know about that little freak,”

Aizawa took a long sip of his whiskey, the detective’s eyes narrow and angry. It had been obvious to most of the task force that he never liked Ryuzaki: Aizawa’s short temper and L’s aloofness often clashed, but there also seemed to be something else bubbling under the surface- and itch that needed some sort of external validation to be scratched.

“What do you mean, Aizawa?” Light probed the detective. If he for some reason and somehow got more information about L…

Aizawa looked around, now holding the full attention of the table in the palm of his hand. He rubbed behind his earlobe, his voice sharp and intense, “I was talking with Wedy and Aiber after the arrest of Higuchi. Just idly chatting. I was curious about their history with Ryuzaki. What kind of criminal would endear themselves to the most prolific detective? When did they even get close enough to be on call for him?” Aizawa idly cracked his knuckles, looking down at the stain wood of the table, recounting the events from that night, “It seems as though those two know Ryuzaki better than we do,”

Light’s skin felt as though it was on fire. He had never had much interest in the detective, but his attention was solely focused on Aizawa. Whatever it was, whatever Aizawa found out from the two con-artists, he simply had to know, his need and curiosity were going to burn him alive if the normally straight-forward cop didn’t speak faster.

“What did you find out,” Soichiro frowned, “Like, his history or name or something,”

Light wanted to scream.

Aizawa shook his head, sipping the brown liquid, “No. Nothing like that, just some taboo information that our good friend Ryuzaki opted not to tell us,”

Matsuda frowned, “Taboo?”

“Yeah,” He scoffed, tapping the glass with the palm of his finger- eyes hard and jaw set. His eyes quickly darted from one side of the nearly empty bar to the other, now staring down his whiskey. “Let’s just say,” He spoke in a low voice, “I am certainly glad Ryuzaki doesn’t go to the gym. I would pity any man who had to share a locker room alone with him.” Aizawa threw the rest of his drink down his throat and loudly set the empty glass on the table, the silence thick and palpable.

No one said anything for a long time. No one moved their drinks or spoke. Light looked down at the table, eyes hard, waiting for someone to break the silence; someone had to release him from this torture, and he couldn’t be the one to speak up.

When Soichiro scoffed, picking up his glass, all eyes turned to him, “Well. I can’t say I am surprised,” He grumbled. The rest of the squad nodded in agreement, all going back to their idle actions.

“I mean, I always had my suspicions,” Matsuda said, “He is a pretty weird guy and something always seemed a bit off when we were alone together. I just chalked it up to Ryuzaki being Ryuzaki but now that I know- like I know ...” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “Uck… I need to go home and have a shower,”

Soichiro then locked eyes with Light, “Light, if that Ryuzaki ever made a pass at you or made you feel-”

“Father, I promise you everything was fine,” Light muttered, responding to his father but his head was elsewhere, “I never even knew, or considered it a possibility, actually,”

Aizawa frowned, tapping the table harshly with his index finger, “With the chain, when you had to shower, or use the restroom, what did you even-”

“There was a hook in the bathroom, so there was at least some semblance of privacy,” Light opted to keep the fact that there were cameras covering every inch of the bathroom to himself.

Soichiro seemed unsatisfied with that answer, “I was never a fan of that chain situation, none of us were, but we all trusted Ryuzaki. Now- now that I know my son was chained for months on end to some pervert…” He steady his rising voice but Soichiro was gripping his glass so hard, Light was worried it would shatter under his hold.

“It is just wrong,” Aizawa chimed in, Mogi nodding along, unenthusiastically, “Morally, completely wrong.”

“Here, here,” Matsuda echoed, cheerlessly. “Those are the kinds of people Kira should take care of,”

Light’s eyes widened, shaking his head, “Matsuda, don’t talk like that,”

Aizawa shook his head, a short emotionless laugh was followed with an omission from the other detective. “This may just be the whiskey talking, but instead of FBI agents and business men, maybe Kira could work on keeping those kinds of people out of society. I don’t need queers around, I have 2 kids,”

Soichiro nodded, “It is a pity. Can’t imagine how Ryuzaki’s parent’s must feel. Maybe they know and that’s why he is the way he is,”

“Pity the pair of them,”

“Yeah,”

Light said nothing. Soichiro continued, “Glad I don’t have to worry about that. Sayu talks about that Hideki Ryuga on too many occasions to count, and that Ms. Amane is more than treating Light here well,”

Eyes hard set on his Father, Light asked his dad a question that had been on the tip of his tongue since Aizawa’s information had been revealed. “Father, what would you do if-”

Cutting him off, Soichiro looked at Light seriously, “If that happened, I wouldn’t need some magical notebook. I’d take my marksman training and deal with it myself,”

Light smiled, chuckling, “Of course, Father,”

Light’s fingernails were gripping the inside of his palm, the force at which was nearing the point of drawing blood. He was doing his best to remain cool and collected, but the more the men talked the more his anger was becoming all consuming: a threat that was rearing its ugly head and threatening to crawl out of his throat with an ear splitting cry of rage.

“I think I need the restroom,” Light stood up stiffly, 4 pairs of concerned eyes on him. He gave them a curt nod, “Gentlemen,” And walked quickly to the other side of the bar.

The restroom was a unisex single stall that Light opened with more forced then neccesarry and locked the door. He stumbled over to the sink, switching it on the coldest setting. Balling up his fists, he slammed them down onto the dirty ceramic, a frustrated cry erupting from him.

“Son of a bitch!” Light choked out. Neat fingernails gripped the sides of the sink, chilling water splashing and threatening to soak the edges of Light’s expensive button up, but he barely noticed that fact, as he was mentally steeling himself to not allow the hot tears he felt bubbling to spill. Crying in any capacity was wasted energy, and even more so, he didn’t want to have to explain the tear tracks on his cheeks to any of his much older colleagues.

“Geez, you look like a mess,” A gravelly voice phased. Light looked in the mirror in front of him and saw Ryuk’s wide eyes staring back at his reflection.

Light scoffed, looking away from the mirror, “Welcome back, where have you been, Ryuk?”

Ryuk floated closer to the sink, casually wiggling his fingers, “I was nagging some cherries from the bartender. Not as good as apples but I’ll take what I can get,”

“Does fruit even taste different to Shinigamis?”

“Oi oi, what is that supposed to mean,” Ryuk frowned.  Light shrugged his shoulders, sighing. Ryuk put a thumb to his chin, “It is clear I missed something. You going to fill me in, Light?”

For the first time since entering the bathroom, Light felt about 7% calmer. He took a deep breath, studying the brown eyes of his reflection. Still rimmed with red, but not nearly as dam breaking as before. He turned around to face the Shinigami, casually leaning against the sink, arms crossed.

“Aizawa just told me some information,”

“Eh?”

“Information about L,”

Ryuk laughed wildly. Flipping himself upside-down, he continued to cackle, “Isn’t that just interesting. What did he say? Is your plan going to be a little easier?”

Light crossed his arms, refusing to look at Ryuk’s animated movements, and instead inspected a cracked tile in the otherwise pristine floor, “No. Aizawa told me that L is gay,”

“Eh?” Ryuk flipped himself upright and stood on the floor normally, curiously looking at the human, “Well, I suppose that is fine… Though I guess that means it isn’t with you. I didn’t realise that you were uh, what’s the human word for it...” Ryuk scratched his hair, and Light quirked up an eyebrow, “Oh. Didn’t know you were homophonic,”

Light frowned, “What?”

“Homophonic. You don’t like gay people,”

Running a hand through his hair Light sighed, “It is homophobic, not homophonic. Homophonic has to do with music,” Light turned back to the water that was still running and rolled up his sleeves, idly washing his hands, “I didn’t think you would get this much stupider after being away from me for so long,”

Ryuk defensively put his hands up, talking to Light’s reflection, “Hey, don’t look at me. You humans are the weird ones, making up gender and sex and all these words we don’t have in the Shinigami realm. It’s confusing sometimes, ok?” Light didn’t respond as he pulled some paper towels from the holder and dried his hands, “Either way, I didn’t know you were homophobic. Hyuk, probably makes you want to kill L more, doesn’t it,”

Light’s eyes flashed red, and in an instant, he kicked the plastic bin across the room in a blind rage of fury, “Of course it doesn’t!” Dried towels littered the ground, Ryuk slapping one away from himself as it floated onto his shoulder, “But apparently if you don’t fit into the perfect straight mold that we have been told, all morals go out the window!” His back hit the wall, and Light sunk down onto the floor, Ryuk still standing in shock, “All of the detectives out there said that they would want to rid the world of anyone who was different. No matter how hard working, or what they do, or how much they are worth to society, if you don’t fit that mold, you are better off dead. They said they L would be better off dead, that-” He paused, picking at a loose string on his pants, tugging on it and idly throwing it away, “My own father said he would kill me,”

Ryuk stood next to Light in stunned silence, only a couple times before had he seen the man lose his temper and each time he was unsure of how to respond to it. He began picking up the towels littered on the ground, “So, Light, are you saying that you’re…”

Chuckling dryly, Light shook his head, “I thought this kind of thing didn’t matter to Shinigamis?”

“No, but it matters to you humans. Besides, this is very interesting,”

Light rested his head against his knees, staring at the crack in the tile again, “I don’t want to label myself, not really. Like you said, it is a dumb human thing.” Biting his thumbnail, Light thought for a moment about what he wanted to say, “I was about 13 when I realised I couldn’t relate to my friends. I thought I was smarter than them for not caring about kissing girls and spin the bottle. I pretty much wrote off relationships altogether. It wasn’t until Misa that I realised what was wrong,”

“Eh? Misa?”

“Yeah, I know,” A rare smile formed on Light’s face. Rare because he was talking about Misa, someone who he regarded as one of the banes of his existence, “She was rambling on one day, and told me that she also likes girls in the way she likes me. Granted, she immediately went on to say she would never leave me, and we were soulmates, but those words kept me up because I never even realised it was an option.

“I did some research and some of the greatest minds on Earth were also queer in some capacity. Alan Turing, Julius Caesar, Ihara Saikaku- all great people who made waves in history. And yet,” Light made fists with his hands, “Some people, some idiots would believe they were better off dead just because of who they choose to lay with.

“I may have a personal bias, but if the Gods never cared about gender and sex, then why would I when passing judgement? You said it yourself, Ryuk: it is merely a human constructed concept. I am far above viewing people as just that. It is simply an aspect of yourself, not who you are. Your actions are far more important. Be a useful, moral member of society and why does it matter who you sleep with?”

Ryuk finished cleaning up the towels and sat on the floor across from Light, “Heh, and the detectives don’t share that same sentiment?”

“Yeah,” Light’s voice dripped with venom, “They told all of us multiple times to not pass judgement off of one action, and yet my father said he would put a gun to my head and if I kissed a boy he would shoot me dead,”

Ryuk tilted his head to the side, “Guess we finally found the greyness in your morality,” He cackled wildly, but Light was not amused.

Light sat up straight, looking Ryuk straight into his eyes, “I don’t need those kinds of people in my world,” He spoke with finality, and tapped open the secret compartment of his watch, the small corner piece of the Death Note blank and ready for him.

“Light, wait,” Ryuk’s eyes widened and he took a couple steps towards him, towering over Light. He frowned, red anger brewing in his pupils, “I am not supposed to help, not really, but please think, ok? For one, this is your father we are talking about, you can’t-”

“Ryuk, he said he would kill me!” Light stood up and shouted, all care for staying calm left him, “He said I would be better off dead, how am I supposed to take that?”

“Alright,” He responded, the almost 7 foot Shinigami felt very small all the sudden, “What about this? You and the task force leave headquarters for the first time in months. You disappear to the bathroom and all the task force is dead except for you. What conclusion is L going to draw from that, hm?”

Light threw his pen across the room, hitting and marking the wall it connected with, “So what should I do, then, huh? Just let them all walk around, making judgements about those who didn’t do anything?” He made fists with his hands, not paying any attention to pain, fury and rage was all Light felt now. Drops of blood trickled down his palm and under his nails- he finally broke the skin. “They don’t deserve any of that, so why did my father say that? Why do they get to decide what is moral? Where is the justice for them!” His breath got more and more ragged, to the point of hyperventilation. Light suddenly felt very, very dizzy.

When he was a young child, after he just learned how to swim, Light would go off the diving board and teeter at the edge of it, testing gravity. Challenging it. He wanted to fly. He thought he could cheat it somehow. If he ran quick enough, if he closed his eyes, if he acted casual as he stepped off the board, but everytime the wind on his face and the unforgiving coldness of the pool water let him know that Light had failed. Getting the Death Note was the closest he felt to defying gravity. Light could step off the board now and simply float; floating high above the gravity that pulled him down, and high above the water that wanted to engulf him.

However, for the first time since he got the Note, Light was no longer floating: Light was drowning. Gravity was forcing him underwater, suffocating him. It was filling up his lungs and choking him. Is this the grim misfortune that Ryuk said to him? Is this how it feels like to be held underwater- thrashing and crying and begging for the element to relent? To release it’s hold and breathe? Light can’t imagine the real thing feeling any other way.

A knock on the door brought Light back to land. He stayed silent as he listened to the voice outside the door, “Light? You doing ok in here? Your dad is worried about you and…”

Matsuda trailed off. Light paused for a moment, and walked himself to the other side of the bathroom, raising his voice, “Yeah, I am ok. Just, uh, the drink I had before the beer was pretty strong, and I didn’t eat beforehand so, uh, y’know,”

“Oh, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Light struggled to keep his voice even.

“Something always seemed a bit off when we were alone together…”

“I am all good, Matsuda,”

“Uck… I need to go home and have a shower…”

“I appreciate your concern,”

Matsuda stayed silent for a minute before responding, “We are about to head out. Do you want us to wait or-”

“Go on ahead,” Light responded immediately, “I’ll get Watari to call me a car or something,”

Matsuda sighed, “As long as you are sure, but just let someone know when you get back. I’ll tell Soichiro you aren’t feeling well,”

Light listened to the detective’s retreating footsteps. He closed the lid on the toilet and put his head in his hands, “I want to kill them,” Ryuk cackled wildly, causing Light to look up, “What? Unless you have something helpful to contribute I-”

Ryuk floated, spinning himself above Light, “You could kill them, that is easy. Killing is like breathing to you, Kira,” He laughed again, “But trust me when I say that there are much more creative, much more fun forms of punishment,”

Light’s interest was piqued, he looked at the Shinigami with curiosity, “What exactly are you thinking?”

Shrugging, he began to phase through the wall, “I am not going to tell you what to do, that is all up to you, Light. However-” Ryuk’s head was all that was remaining in the room, a smile even more wicked than his usual one plastered on his face, “-maybe you should talk to your pal, L, about what you learned today,”

Cackling, Ryuk left the room, but Light alone with his thoughts. It didn’t even take 3 minutes for Light to come up with a plan.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .2.

sunday

Warnings: non/dub con sex (kissling and touchling) psst that’s a game grumps joke which I don’t know the reference for, but seriously, warnings people.

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader struggles through a restless night.

Note: Part two has arrived. There will be six total (She leaves on Friday, y’all so not an entire week but close enough right!) Hope you guys are having fun with this, it’s a bit of a slow burn but it gets hot! I promise.

We get a sexy dad!Steve who’s a bit more devious than dark and well…I’ll let you guys figure it out for yourselves! I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think!

...

The long drive and day in the sun coaxed you into a deep sleep. You awoke as the sunlight peeked in around the heavy curtains and stretched across the queen mattress. University had conditioned you to a narrow twin bed and home had seen you sleeping on an aged double. This was a true vacation even if set in the middle of suburbia.

You rose and readied for another day. You'd bask in laziness for as long as it lasted. A pair of torn denim shorts, a loose tank top from that concert you attended during frosh week, and the most comfortable bra you had short of none at all. 

You stepped out into the hall. The house was quiet. The silence even more daunting as the grand halls were airy and seemingly endless. You tiptoed down to Kylie’s door and knocked. No answer. You gave another tap and turned the handle slowly.

Kylie was goddess-like in consciousness, but asleep, she was a bear in her cave. Her snores met you first and then the sight of her. Stretched across her canopied bed with a blanket twisted around her long leg. Her phone was still in her hand just beside her pillow.

You backed out and gently closed the door. You hated waking other people. You could wait for her. It was early. Only seven. Maybe you could do something nice. Breakfast? Kylie was nice enough to host and her father was tolerant enough to allow her. It would be a pleasant surprise...if you didn’t destroy the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen, you paused and looked around. Even if it was a kind gesture, you wondered if you were overstepping. Staying in another’s house was always a high wire act. A little too far one way or another and you’d be falling to your demise. You bit your lip and your eyes focused on the silver coffee maker at the corner of the counter. Coffee wouldn’t be too much.

You neared and leaned over the marble. Alright, this was a fancy machine. Where exactly did you put the water? You ran your fingers along the top as you felt for a lip but it was entirely smooth. You frowned and traced your fingertips down the back. Was this magic? Could they afford even that?

“You alright?” You were drawn back by the voice, a pathetic squeak caught in your throat. Steve stood at the end of the island. How long had he been there? Watching?

“Yeah, I uh...was trying to figure out how to make coffee. I mean, I know how to I just--”

“It’s fine,” He assured you and rounded the island, “It’s a stupid machine.” He neared and leaned over the counter. You were pinned against the curve of it as he pressed his fingers around the other side. The top popped up with a click. “When we were still together, my ex-wife hired an interior designer who shared her taste in the extravagant. I’ve just never bothered to use it too much but Kylie thrives on her lattes.”

“Oh,” He backed up and opened the cupboard above. He shifted through the boxes of tea and spices. He pulled out three bags of beans. “She has...Colombian, espresso, and...salted caramel? Hmm, didn’t know coffee was so fancy.” He looked back into the cupboard. He could see much more than you could. “I’m sure she has more.”

“It’s fine, Colombian works for me,” You assured him and made yourself look at him. His hair was slightly damp with sweat and his thin shirt clung to his chest.

He left the Colombian roast out and closed the cupboard. He opened the next and pulled out the grinder. You watched as he plugged it in. It was usually instant or pre-ground for you. You felt even more displaced.

“Thanks.” You mumbled and he smiled as he took the top off the grinder and opened it up. “I think I can figure it out from here.”

“I’m sure you can,” He handed over the detachable cup and backed up. He grabbed the empty plastic tumbler he had left on the island and went to the sink. He rinsed it out as you loaded the beans into the grinder. “I’ve already had my wake up,” He said as he placed the cup in the dish rack and worked on cleaning the lid. 

“Work out?” You wondered. The shorts, the shoes, the sweat. It was easy small talk.

“Try to get them in before Kylie wakes...which these days isn’t before noon,” He turned off the tap and leaned against the island as he watched you. He paused as you clicked the cup into place and nodded for you to hit the button. He waited as you ground the beans. “Not used to having her back. Last summer she had a job but she’s back to her mom’s in two weeks so we’ll see if she can find anything there.”

“Oh, it must be...crowded now,” Your words turned to a grunt as you tried to untwist the cup. It was jammed. 

“Mmm, I wouldn’t put it that way,” He replied, “Wait, don’t force--”

He was behind you but not fast enough. The top of the grinder released and grounds dusted your front. Down your face and neck, all the way inside your tank top. His laugh kept your from cursing.

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you,” He took the grinder from you and shoved it back. He opened a drawer and grabbed a cloth. You turned to him as you tried not to spread the coffee to the floor. “Hold still.” 

He started to wipe you face, surprising you as you thought he was focused more on the counter. You blinked and let him. You didn’t know what else to do. He chuckled as the cloth swept around your chin and down your neck. 

“Well, I guess this is one way of getting a caffeine rush.”

You shook your head and his hand hovered just above your tank top. You both froze at the realization. His eyes went to his hand and your breath caught. You reached up and snatched the cloth from him and he quickly rescinded his arm. You turned and continued to wipe away the grinds on you before focusing on the counter.

“Sorry, I’ve made such a mess.” You tried to ignore the rising tension. That was weird.

He was beside you again and he reached for the cup. He held it up. “I think there’s enough for a pot.” 

He stepped behind you as you bent slightly over the counter to get the stray grounds. You could feel him against you as he reached around and grabbed the filter from the machine. He didn’t back up as he filled it and put it back. 

“You should go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of the coffee,” He took the carafe and finally backed away. “Don’t worry about the counter.”

He filled the pot. You peeked over at him as you straightened up with a hand full of grounds. You swore he was smiling. Rather, smirking. You tore your eyes from him and searched out the trash bin at the end of the counter. You hit the step and dumped the handful inside and shook out the cloth.

“Thanks,” You said as you neared and set the cloth beside the sink. “Again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” He twisted the faucet off. “Figured you girls would need a hand around here anyway.”

You nodded and rushed out of the room. You had embarrassed yourself enough. You didn’t consider his words until you were halfway up the stairs. Kylie said his plans had been cancelled but he made it sound like it was more of a choice. Maybe it had been to keep her from Taylor after all. 

You shrugged. It wasn’t your problem. It was more a father-daughter issue and you preferred to ignore it and enjoy your reprieve from the real world.

-

Your second day went much the same as the first. Sunbathing, swimming, and scintillation. At least the novel tried to be steamy but it was more hot air.

You were on a lounge chair, sunglasses hid your closed eyes, and you sighed. You didn’t want to get up but there were limits to your sluggishness. You were thirsty and the heat wasn’t helping. Kylie was on her phone with her legs in the pool. She had been chattering for the last hour trying to arrange some get together.

You stood with a stretch. “Hey,” She covered the speaker of her phone, “You going inside?”

“Just grabbing some water,” You said.

“Can you get me a cooler. There right in the back hidden behind the eggs.” You frowned. You didn’t want to abet her in her deception but you also didn’t need to argue with your host. 

“Fine,” She was already back on her phone, knowing your acquiescence was granted.

You slid the glass door open and stepped inside. The kitchen was enticingly cool. You poured yourself a water and set it on the island. You  already made enough of a mess in here and you weren’t eager to outstay yourself already. You opened the fridge and searched out the eggs. They were beneath the butter dish and an unopened carton of cream. 

You bent and snaked your arm over the dairy and felt around for the secreted coolers. Jesus Christ, this fridge was the second portal to Narnia. Nothing. A shadow appeared over you and you stood so fast you hit your elbow on the fridge door.

Steve leaned against the freezer door as he grinned down at you. “I moved the coolers,” He said. “Just under the crisper.”

“Oh,” You chewed your cheek guiltily. “I--”

“Kylie’s not as clever as she thinks. Besides, I always told her, under this roof and within reason, she can indulge. She’s an adult by law but can’t buy a drink or rent a car. Rules don’t always make sense.”

You backed up as he knelt down and reached under the drawer and revealed a bright blue vodka drink. He stood and offered it to you. “You grabbing one for her too?”

“This is for her?” You hesitantly took the bottle. “Thanks.”

“Not much of a vacation,” He snickered.

“Water’s fine,” You backed up and started to close the fridge door. He caught it swiftly.

“You sure? I got beer?” He offered.

“No, really. I shouldn’t.”

He laughed and let go of the door. “You know, Kylie doesn’t usually have such straight-laced friends.”

“I’m not straight-laced,” You said. “I just...don’t want any.”

“No judgment from me,” He held his hands up as you stepped past him and grabbed your water. “Either way. Offer stands. Beer’s in the mini-fridge in the garage. Or you can try your luck at bartering a cooler off Kylie.”

“Thanks,” You were curt. You didn’t mean to be but the tension from earlier started to nip at you. These little run-ins were starting to be less spontaneous. His little jokes were not as amusing. Not so transparent. 

You held the bottle under your arm as you slid shut the glass door behind you. You peered through it as you did and found Steve’s gaze well below your eye line. You turned quickly and acted like you didn’t notice. You didn’t. It was all your imagination. Surely, it had to be. If you couldn’t turn the heads of frat boys, you were nothing to the established suburban man.

-

You couldn’t sleep. You could blame the usual reticence of being in another’s house;the feeling of displacement that made it hard to settle down. Homesickness, even. But likely it was the argument that had ended your night. You came here to live it up with Kylie but she had other plans. Well, she always had other, better plans.

She was sneaking out to see Taylor. Not only were you offended that you were being ditched, you didn’t want to be dragged into her deceptions. It was one thing for her to lie to her dad but another for you to do it. As far as you were concerned, he was footing the cost of your visit and it was becoming more and more obvious. You felt more a boarder than a guest.

Of course, Kylie was stubborn. You never won an argument with her. She did as she pleased and you just rolled over. Fine, let her go out. If you were sent home early, maybe it was for the best. You were already dreading the pool party she had planned for the next night. For her it was a reunion, for you, a night of introductions. Those never went very well.

You pulled the pillow over your head and growled. Sleep, please. You wouldn’t be so mad in the morning and your anxiety would die down by the time of the party. Hopefully. Another fifteen minutes tossing and turning and you threw your pillow.

You grabbed your phone as you sat up and checked the time. One in the morning. Kylie had messaged you shortly after her escape. ‘Be back before morning’. Great, not vague at all. You rolled your eyes and dropped your phone onto the bed. You needed something to ease your nerves. Tire yourself out.

You didn’t bother flipping on the light. The moon streamed in through the open curtains and you searched out your most comfortable shorts and a tank top. You were glad you had the sense to pack a sports bra. You anticipated joining Kylie on one of her morning runs. She hadn’t yet woke up early enough for that.

You pulled on your sneakers and stood. You weren’t really a gym person but you might as well take advantage of it while you were here. You stepped out into the hall, keeping your footsteps light as you found the railing and carefully descended the stairs. Your eyes attuned to the dark and you were more confident in your path.

The gym was at the east end of the lower floor. You stopped at the end of the hall and listened. The echoes of your sneakers stoked your paranoia. Both Steve and Kylie welcomed you to enjoy the house’s perks. You were doing nothing wrong.

You opened the door and flicked on the light. You should’ve grabbed your phone. Music always went well with exercise. Oh well. You just wanted to work off some of this excess energy. You stretched and climbed onto the bicycle. It faced away from the door and out the large window that peaked out onto the finely trimmed garden. The yard was almost eerie at night. A labyrinth of shadows.

You pedaled for about ten minutes before you felt like falling off. Your muscles burned already. It might be a good idea to use the uni gym when you returned to campus. It was included in tuition and you’d hate to toss away money for nothing. 

You kicked your legs back to their limit and the door clicked. You stopped suddenly and the pedals pushed on your feet uncomfortably. You peeked over your shoulder as the door opened. Steve looked surprised to find you there and his blue eyes flashed. 

“Oh, sorry, thought maybe I left the light on,” He said. He wore nothing but a pair of dark blue shorts. A towel was over his broad shoulder and you made sure to keep your eyes above it. You untangled your feet from the pedals and stepped down from the bike with a small stumble. As graceful as ever.

“I was just...um, well, I couldn’t sleep, I thought…” You stuttered.

“It’s fine. That’s what it’s here for.” He smiled. “Must be contagious. I haven’t been able to settle down either.”

“Ah,” Your eyebrows twitched as you did your best to humour him.

“Heard the Mercedes about an hour ago. That didn’t help,” His voice turned stern. “Kylie thinks I still don’t know about that trellis she likes to climb down.” You glanced away guiltily. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you lie for her. I’m good at acting oblivious.”

You looked to him and frowned. “I told her not to go.”

“As I said, she’s an adult. You’re an adult,” He waved his hand nonchalantly, “I just happen to live here.”

You didn’t know what to say. You exhaled and glanced around the room. You were ready to go back to bed.

“Anyways, I didn’t mean to interrupt or reprimand you,” He pulled the towel from his shoulder and held it at his side. “Was just on my way to the hot tub and happened to see the light.”

Hot tub? You couldn’t help the tilt of your head. This house had everything. 

“No worries,” You assured him, “I was just about done.”

“Oh yeah?” He planted an elbow on the door frame. Don’t look, you warned yourself. Don’t look at his chest. Or his abs. You didn’t know men as old as him had abs. “You’re welcome to...join me? Hot tub’s warmed up and ready to go.”

You chuckled nervously. “No, I don’t...I appreciate it but I don’t even have my suit.”

He raised a brow and thought. The corner of his mouth lifted just a little. “You don’t need it.”

You blinked. Then blinked again. You weren’t quite sure you got his meaning. Or you did and were in shock. Either way, all you could do was stare.

You giggled. It was nervous and shrill but it was all you could manage. Your eyes slipped and you saw the twitch in his shorts. Oh god, you were starting to get light-headed. You were asleep. Dreaming. Right?

You barely noticed as he stood straight and crossed the gym. As he neared, he reached behind you and draped his towel over bicycle seat. You wanted to step back but you couldn’t make yourself. 

“It’s a vacation.” His hand was on your arm, “The hot water might even help you sleep. I’ve always been told as much.”

Your chest rose and fell and you murmured. There were no real words.

“It’s just a soak.” His voice was gristly. 

You were so stupid. Your head snapped back and you shook away the clouds. You had totally misunderstood him. You were a fool.

“Uh, sure,” You shrugged but sounded less than casual. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. I mean...it’ll be nice.”

“You’re tense,” He squeezed your arm and let go, “It’ll loosen you up.”

-

Just down the hall was the jacuzzi room. There was a small sauna at its far end. The hot tub was the centerpiece and filled the small space with steam. Steve waved you in first and closed the door behind him as he followed. He left his towel on the long bench beside the door and wasted no time in approaching the tub.

He walked down the steps and sighed as he settled against the wall of the tub. You wondered, even if you had wildly misunderstood him, if this was at all appropriate. Kylie wasn’t even here. That made it feel even worse. 

You watched Steve stretch his arms across the lips of the jacuzzi and you pondered the rippling water. The jets were screaming your name. 

You started with your sneakers and socks. Those were easiest. The tank top was harder. Your sports bra offered enough coverage but wasn’t as thick as your usual one. You rolled down your shorts to reveal your panties. It wasn’t much different than a bikini but the panties were a bit too short in the back. You kept your front to Steve as you approached the tub. You could feel your butt peeking out the bottom.

You slowly descended the steps. The water lulled away your nerves as you got deeper and waded over to the bench, just at the end of Steve’s reach. That was an acceptable distance. Not far enough to offend but not close enough to disturb.

His head was leaned back, eyes closed. He was entirely unbothered by your presence. Why did you always do this? You always got so worked up for nothing. It was nothing! You exhaled and relaxed against the tub. You let your arms fall to your side and the water embraced you.

But you still couldn’t relax. Your heart was beating so fast. You fidgeted every time you started to sink too far and finally you sat up. You crossed your legs and examined the wrinkles along your fingertips. You felt a warmth on your shoulder just above the water. 

You looked over as Steve slid closer on the bench, his hand on your shoulder. “Just relax. Enjoy it,” He said, “Here, I’ve got this little trick for tension.” 

He was right against you as his hands went to either side of your head, his arm bent around your shoulder. He pushed two fingers to both temples and rubbed. 

“Come on. Close your eyes.” 

You didn’t know why you listened. It was wrong for him to touch you like this. You should say no but this was his house. He invited you in here and you couldn’t turn him away.

He rubbed your temples and your heart slowed. Then his fingers tickled along your cheeks and he massaged the back of your neck with his thumbs. Then he moved to your shoulders, a hand slipped and his arm was around you. He pulled you close as he continued to work your muscles with one hand moving back and forth between your shoulder.

You leaned your head back against his arm and let out a long breath. You were almost suffocating as the heat of his body melded with that of the tub. You felt pressure on your lips and your eyes snapped open. He was kissing you. His hand drifted from your shoulder and cupped your breast through the thin sports bra. You were certain he could feel your nipple as it hardened.

Your eyelids fluttered and you brought your hand up between you. You pushed on his chest and he ran his tongue across your bottom lip. You pushed harder and finally he parted. He sat back but kept his arm around your shoulders.

“I…” You touched your chest just above the bra, your lip trembled. “I should go.”

You stood and he caught your wrist. He clung to you until you turned back. “You don’t have to. Kylie is gone, we’re all alone.”

“I...I can’t,” You wiggled your arm free of his grasp. 

You turned and pushed your body through the water and dragged yourself along the metal railing. You didn’t look back. Only gathered your clothes and hurried to the door. The water stirred but he did not leave the tub. 

“Goodnight,” Steve called as you opened the door. “See you tomorrow.”

You closed it behind you and nearly slipped on your wet feet. What did he mean? Was it a courtesy? A promise? A threat? You didn’t wait for the answer to come as you raced down the hall.

-

tags to be added in reblog

[whumpsblog]

"You asked for this / you wanted this" for the dialogue prompts please?

A writing prompt for @bloodandbandages. This took me a while to write and it’s FINALY DONE! Events occure between chapter 1 and 2. Thank you for the prompt!

<< Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 >> 

Tagging:  @justplainwhump , @bloodandbandages , @eatyourdamnpears , @butwhatifyouwrite , @broken-horn

🚨 CW WARNING FOR RAPE, THREATENED RAPE OF A MINOR, IMPLIED RAPE OF A MINOR, HUMAN DEHUMANIZATION, NON-CON, HUMAN SLAVERY, HUMAN TRAFFICKING, BLOOD, ABUSE 🚨

The days following their arrival are hell. The Omegas are packed together like sardines within a chain link dog kennel, and their water comes from a grimmy trough containing stained and stale water. Their food consists of scraps pulled from the dumpster of some fast food restaurant, gone stale and moldy long ago. If they need to relieve themselves, they use a five gallon bucket that is shared collectively among them. For days they sit on the cold damp concrete, huddled together and trying to keep warm. 

Down the hall, a metal door opens and slams shut. Heavy footfalls are heard approaching the cell and half of the Omegas stir nervously, while the other half try desperately to ignore it. Jayden, the youngest of the group, nudges Hanna who inhales and opens her weary eyes with a start. She's alert in a matter of seconds but still extremely tired.

Slavers had been visiting the Omegas since their arrival, and they took a fancy to this particular group because of Hanna. They loved antagonizing her, and their favorite way to do so was by hurting her people to get to her. At least once a day they would come by, hitting the fencing and once electrifying it, while harassing the group with foul comments and sexual innuendos. The older kids did their best to protect the young from the brutality, to keep them optimistic and hopeful, but that was becoming harder and harder to do as the days dragged on.

Two grown men and a young boy come into view and Hanna recognizes the little Omega in an instant. His name is Alex and he's an uncanny spitting image of her dead brother, down to his name and his precocious personality. He just turned  eight a few months ago.   

Hanna jumps to her feet and charges forward like a mother duck defending a duckling. Her fingers lace though the wiring like she's trying to rip it apart.  "Let him go!" She snarls. 

A wooden club smashes into the fence and Hanna has to pull back to keep her fingers from being crushed. Through the fence she examines Alex carefully. His knees and hands are bloody and his blond hair is dirty and tangled. His skin is streaked in dirt and his shocking green eyes watery and full of terror. 

"Now Hanna, we can either do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way," says the Slaver holding Alex. "Either get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head," he sets the heavy wooden bat on Alex's shoulder and evokes an involuntary flinch, "or this pretty little boy's gonna get it."

Hanna knows by the tone in his voice and the twisted smirk on his face that he isn't bluffing. While maintaining eye contact she drops on the spot and folds her legs under her thighs. Lancing her fingers behind her head, she looks up at the Slavers with a flat expression, ready for whatever they have in store for her. 

The main Slaver eats it up. “What an admirable Omega," he sneers. He drags Alex to the door, unlocks the cell, and sends the boy crashing into a pile of seated Omegas. Then he turns to Hanna. His body looms over her and she's scowling up at him defiantly. "Looking out for her people like a good leader.” He grabs a fist full of her hair and she grunts as he drags her out of the cell. 

The Slaver throws her to the ground while the other shuts and locks the fence behind her. As she picks herself up off the ground she catches movement in the corner of her eye and realizes all too late that there's a boot flying at her. It catches her in her lower abdomen and the force of the blow lifts her off the ground. A sharp pain explodes inside of her and she rolls onto her side. 

She isn't given a moment of rest. The Slaver grabs a fist of her hair, lifts her head off the ground, and punches her square in the jaw. Her head snaps to the side and something comes loose in her mouth. Hanna's seeing stars as she's dropped to the floor and she lays there disoriented and hurting.

It takes her a few seconds to regain her senses. With her attacker circling her, she rolls onto her side with a long moan and pushes herself up onto her knees. She spits blood and a molar onto the concrete, and wipes crimson drool off her chin. 

"Do you remember me?" he asks Hanna. There's a starved and crazed look in his eyes and it gleams menacingly.

Hanna looks up at him through squinted eyes. Blood is pooling in her mouth again and she spits it at the floor. She doesn't recognize him.

He smirks. "I'll give you a clue." He holds both of his hands out so she's looking at the massive pale scar running across his knuckles. "You gave me these scars, remember? You were about ten and I was a guard at Syrtex. Do you remember our special time together Hanna?"

Her blood goes cold and her heart slows. In an instant she's ten again and back at Syrtex; confused and too young to know what’s going on, but fearfully nonetheless. She recalls her fear and desperation for someone to help, and how she had been too scared to cry out for help during the act, let alone fight back. 

"Ah, so you do remember." He advances upon her and she pushes herself backwards, panicking.  

"You were so young. So full of life, and you fought so hard." He taunts. He starts removing his heavy leather belt and Hanna turns and attempts to flee, only to have him crack his belt across her bare back. The shocking unbelievable pain drops her and two meaty hands grab her ankles. He pulls her legs out from underneath her, causing her to drop to the and bash her chin into the concrete, before he flips her onto her back and crawls on top of her. He pins her legs under his own before she can fight him off. 

Hanna swings out wide and desperate and he catches her wrists with his rough hands. He pins the above her head and presses them down using his weight. The concrete bits into her flesh. 

He leans down to her level. "Either make this enjoyable for me," He whispers into Hanna's ear making her go still and cringe, "or I'll switch you out for that cute boy from earlier." 

Hannas goes numb. 

He smiles. "There, that's it." He coos and starts unzipping his pants. "Now, lay there like a good fucking bitch and take this. Afterall, I know it’s what you want." 

He forces himself into her and she lets out a pained cry as he rips her apart. He thrusts into her again, and again, and again, and the pain doesn’t subside. Tears form at the corners of her wide green eyes and pain and humiliation makes her face flush.

He removes his hands from her wrists in the heat of the moment and they find her throat. His fingers lace around her throat, constricting her airway until Hanna can’t breath. She fights against her attacker, punching and kicking and screaming and scratching desperately, but the more she fights, the faster her world darkens. 

Her rapidly darkening gaze drops to his waist and through her fading vision she sees something black and plastic clipped in a holster at her attacker's belt. She unclips the snap button to the holster, wraps her fingers around the frame, presses the nose to his head, and pulls the trigger.

Blood splatters across Hannas face and the deafening explosion of the shot leaves her with a persistent ringing in her ears. The hold around her neck loosens and  the dead weight of her attacker hits her chest, making it only slightly easier for her to breath. The darkness in her vision recedes and she coughs violently. 

There's movement in the corner of her eye and she  raises the arm holding the pistol, aims and shoots single handedly. She misses and shoots again. This time the bullet hits him in the stomach and he collapses to the floor.

Hanna's ears are ringing and she’s struggling to breath under the weight of her fallen assaulter. She tastes his blood on her parted lips and wiggles out from underneath his fat body, detaches herself from him, and staggers to her knees. The world around her is muffleed save for the tinnitus in her ears and the world around her spins. She throws up on the ground and wrenches on the disgust of the event she just endured. 

When the vomiting ceases she looks up and finds the Omegas pressed up along the cage wall watching her with wide eyes. For the first time and days there's hope in their eyes, and it's because of her. She swallows hard and brushes the tears and blood from her eyes with the heel of her palm. There was work to do and no time to waste. 

They were getting the hell out of here. 

Finally, they were going home. 

[the-odd-job]

Up in Flames chapter 2 - Come and Take Her Hand (Ashes Part 2)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Chose Not to Use Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Megatron Additional Tags: Dubcon, Mechpreg, Sticky Words: 3727

I must confess I'm addicted to this Shove your kiss straight through my chest I can't deny, I'd die without this Make me feel like a god Music, love and sex (Adrenalize me)

— In This Moment - Adrenalize

( Previous )

Skywarp did make sure they made it back to their quarters after a surprisingly pleasant evening of games and bad movies.

Earth movies. That surprised them more than a little. With the way the ‘Cons talked, you’d have thought they’d hate all parts of Earth, or that Megatron, at the very least, would ban all Earth things for the sake of banning them. 

But no, it looked like they rather freely used the entertainment on offer. On a second thought it made some sense, because there wasn’t much else available.

And admittedly the jeers aimed at the organics in the movies had been more than a little savage. Optimus would have never allowed the kind of talk the Seekers had thrown around freely.

Optimus wasn’t here, though. So… They could’ve joined in without anyone getting on their afts about it, and Sideswipe did laugh at a lot of the things that were said.

But Autobot manners had dug themselves deep and they could scarcely allow themselves to have negative thoughts about the humans on the screen. If they thought about how much they didn’t like the organics for the sole reason of them being so incredibly organic… Well, Optimus would have had even more talks with them than he’d already had.

That was in the past now though, wasn’t it? Even if Megatron had let them—and that wasn’t going to happen—how the pit were they supposed to ever go back to the Autobots? After everything they’d done? After everything Sunstreaker had done?

Maybe they should try to move on, instead. Give up on the Autobot pretenses… 

Could they do that?

Not yet, that was for sure. Everything was too fresh and the corridors of the Victory still felt so… Surreal. Like looking at a painting that didn’t make sense. They were so badly displaced that it was impossible to not feel out of their depth, even though the Seekers really hadn’t been anything… Out there. They were mecha like any other, chatting and talking, laughing. Making fun of things.

They weren’t Autobot and it was impossible to mistake them for being Autobot with the things that came out of their vocalizers, but slag, just how big was the divide between the two factions their species had broken into?

Was it as big as everyone liked to make it?

Because it hadn’t felt that different from nights spent in the Ark’s rec room.

It was a lot to compartmentalize after Skywarp said his good nights and skipped down the hall. Sideswipe went straight to their berth faceplanted onto it, groaning into its surface. Sunstreaker could feel his brother’s processors practically cooking from the conflict of expectations versus what reality had been so far.

So far. These were the ‘Cons, and he fragging well wasn’t going to trust there wouldn’t be unpleasant things coming for them down the line. More than just Megatron clawing their insignias for them. 

He sat down next to Sideswipe and his brother turned his helm to the side enough to peer up at him. “So… Skywarp seems nice.”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“And the other Seekers weren’t so bad either. Although they never introduced themselves. Huh.”

He didn’t get a chance to answer because there was a ping at their door. It was more of an announcement to someone’s presence instead of a request to come in, because the door swept aside almost immediately.

Megatron.

Who else?

“You haven’t heard of knocking?” Sunstreaker scowled. Sideswipe turned around and pushed himself to sitting.

“You’ll do well to remember it’s my ship,” Megatron rumbled as he stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. He utterly dominated the already small space, and right then Sunstreaker didn’t really feel like sitting anymore.

So he stood up. Not that it did him a hell of a lot of good when Megatron still towered over him. He craned his neck and glared up at the tyrant, who met his optics annoyingly neutrally. 

Like Sunstreaker wasn’t a threat of any kind to him.

But that wasn’t true, was it?

Before he could decide on what manner of pain he would deliver on the warlord, though, Megatron had moved to the reason for his visit. “We should discuss my expectations of you while you’re carrying.”

Ugh. Seriously? “What slagging expectations can you even have? It’s my fragging life,” Sunstreaker snarled.

Megatron wasn’t impressed and returned his glare. “That presently involves my sparkling.”

Not untrue, but slag him if he was going to let that affect a damn thing. It hadn’t stopped being his life just because he happened to be carrying. “So, what?” Sunstreaker snapped accordingly, “You want to turn me into a helpless carrier just that sits pretty until the sparkling’s separated?” To keep it safe from harm or some slag like that? ”Not going to happen.”  

The tyrant didn’t need even a second to consider what he’d said. “Will you fight for me, then?” Megatron asked without any fanfare, “Against your former comrades?” As if he had been expecting a retort along those lines.

The twins? The matter of who the slag they’d fight for was bound to come up eventually, but they hadn’t really foreseen it coming up so soon.

Or so directly. 

Maybe they should have. What was the point of dancing around the obvious? They were warriors. Fighting was what they did, but now they’d switched sides. Sort of. Not because they wanted to. 

So where did their loyalties lie right now?

Not with Megatron.

But Sunstreaker didn’t think that needed to be said, Megatron had to know already.

What of the whole reason they were here, then? “You’d risk your sparkling?”

Megatron had an answer prepared for that as well. “I would not shelf one of the best warriors Cybertron has to offer just because they’re carrying,” he near growled, like that was something he felt strongly about.

Sideswipe blinked and even Sunstreaker rocked back on his heels. If the sentiment wasn’t entirely unexpected—they were assets to whoever they fought for, and they knew as much—the emotion behind it was.

But Megatron continued, “What would Optimus say? That you need to put your whole life on hold so as to not endanger the sparkling?” Now he growled properly.

And was that it? That he once again disagreed with a stance the Prime took?

Was it a stance Optimus had? They hadn’t exactly had the time to verify that, but Megatron sure sounded like this had… Come up before, or something.

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics up at the warlord. “The way you decided to let everyone know about the goddamn sparkling, we didn’t really have the time to find out what Optimus would’ve thought.”

“He has made his stance clear in the past,” Megatron snarled. “He wasted your talent to begin with, only to set you aside completely if he found out you were harboring new life.” 

Considering how rabid Optimus was about protecting life in all of its forms… Honestly, that wouldn’t have even surprised them, although Sunstreaker wasn’t about to take just Megatron’s word for it.

And what was all this talk about how good fighters they were? Best Cybertron had to offer, wasted on the Autobot side of the war?

Frag off. “If you’re trying to soften me to the idea of fighting for you, it’s not working,” Sunstreaker growled back. “You fragging destroyed my life.”

“Didn’t you do that yourself, Sunstreaker?” Megatron asked, and now he leaned in in a way that forced Sunstreaker to take a step back—or move as far back as he could before the edge of the berth hit the back of his thighs. “The sparkling was about to come to light regardless, and it was my right to lay claim on it.”

“You had no right to have me ousted me as a slagging traitor!”

“But that’s what you are. You think they wouldn’t have found out the truth eventually even if your medic had kept it a secret?”

Sunstreaker’s engine growled hard enough that he began to worry for its integrity, his face twisted in a motherfucking snarl. Megatron wasn’t wrong, on any front, but slag him all the same! Maybe things wouldn’t have ended like this if the damn fragger had just kept his mouth shut.

“It is my sparkling as well, Sunstreaker,” Megatron continued. “I was not and am not about to let the Autobots keep me from it.”

“So that makes it okay to just walk in and force me to join you?” Sunstreaker hissed, shoving at the warlord’s chassis with both servos. “Get the slag out of here, we’re done talking.”

But Megatron grabbed his servos, lifted him by them, and threw him back onto the berth. Sunstreaker landed with a grunt, but sat up and snarled at the tyrant right after.

Megatron didn’t make a move to follow him, but his optics were burning on him. “We’re done talking when I say we’re done talking. 

“How did you even know to show up at just the perfect time, anyway?” Sideswipe spoke up suddenly. Megatron glanced at him as he’d forgotten his brother was even present, which wasn’t that much of a surprise. In any scanners they’d show up as a single reading, and with Sideswipe as still and quiet as he had been, following their little conversation...

“There’s little Soundwave doesn’t know,” Megatron answered.

The implications settled in quickly. “You were keeping tabs on me?!” Sunstreaker demanded in a near roar that he was sure would carry up and down the hall if the room wasn’t decently soundproofed. 

Megatron glared at him like he was an unruly youngling getting on his nerves. “My sparkling, Sunstreaker. How many times do I need to repeat that?”

“My life! How many times do I need to repeat that?!” That infuriating fucking–

“Okay, okay,” Sideswipe piped up again, bringing his servos up to diffuse the situation a little bit before Sunstreaker jumped up to strangle the fragger. “I get it, it’s your sparkling and you have rights to it, and that conflicts with our right to our life, but you decided the sparkling was more important than letting us decide what the slag we were going to do.” Sunstreaker glared at his brother for good measure too, but Sideswipe didn’t pay him mind. “How much freedom do we have, though? We were allowed to walk around the ship, which was honestly more than we expected, but…” he trailed off, frowning.

“I will not make you prisoners unless you force my hand,” Megatron said, significantly more calm in responding to Sideswipe than he was with Sunstreaker.

That could have something to do with Sideswipe just acting less aggravating, though.

Slag his brother for good measure. What the fuck had him acting so reasonable? 

“So we’re allowed to leave the ship if we want to?” Sideswipe prodded further.

“With escort, yes.”

That was… Really surprising, actually. Sideswipe stilled for a second because they really had expected the answer to be a simple ‘no’, but Sunstreaker found his words without too much delay. “What, don’t trust us to not fragging run away?”

“I would drag you back even if you did. There’s nowhere you can go where I wouldn’t find you,” Megatron glared at him where he very much didn’t glare at Sideswipe. “I’m more concerned with your former faction. I will not let them separate me from my sparkling.” There it was again. Apparently Megatron was really serious about having the sparkling for himself. 

“Frag you too,” Sunstreaker muttered before he raised his volume back to normal levels. “What about the fact it’s my sparkling as much as yours? If I’d rather the Autobots had it over you?”

This time Megatron’s voice was calm and steady when he answered, “I would not allow that.”

That was the trouble with fifty-fifty rights to something. If you wanted different things, at some point one would need to overrule the other one way or another. 

In this situation, there was little question that Megatron was in a far better position to overrule anything Sunstreaker said or wanted. 

Sunstreaker growled, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t like he actually wanted the Autobots to have the sparkling. Who the slag knew what they’d do to it… “So what do you slagging expect from me?” 

“I expect you to stay with the Decepticons until you have delivered it, and care for it to the best of your ability during your carry,” Megatron rumbled. “You will not deny me access to yourself or it, and after it has separated, I will have it.”

Right. And what could he do to argue any of that? There was a bit of a power imbalance going on here.

“And if I want to have it too, after it’s separated?” Sunstreaker asked with a growl. Did he want that? Frag if he knew, but he was curious for the answer regardless. 

“You’re welcome to stay, but the sparkling will not leave.”  

So… Stay among the ‘Cons if he wanted to have a part in the sparklet’s life after he’d delivered it.

Sunstreaker scowled. “It sounds like a hell of a lot like you’re expecting me to put my life on hold until I’m no longer carrying.”

“I am the sire. I have a say in what happens to the sparkling, even during the period it resides in your frame.”

They were just going in circles here, weren’t they? Sunstreaker threw his arms up before flopping back onto the berth, frustration coursing all over his frame. “Does it matter one crap what I want, here?”

“We can discuss your options again after you’ve delivered my sparkling.”

Sunstreaker snarled, and in an angry moment of true genius, kicked at Megatron with both legs. Fucking bastard, walking in all dangerous and titillating and proceeding to turn his whole fragging life upside down.

Because Sunstreaker had played no part in that, oh no.

Megatron caught his legs easily. The tyrant’s optics flashed and Sunstreaker had a moment to consider how big of a mistake he’d made, before he was tugged to the edge of the berth—with Megatron between his legs.

Sunstreaker growled twice as hard. “Get the slag away from me.”

“I seem to remember you quite love my spike,” Megatron growled right back at him. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?” His servo slipped to Sunstreaker’s valve cover and Sunstreaker tried to tilt his hips away from the touch, to no avail.

And slag, but he didn’t want to think about all of the spectacular frags they’d already had before their little accident. A traitorous part of his mind whispered that what did it matter, the damage was already done.

There was nothing more to lose, so why not just enjoy what there was? 

A larger part of his mind, though, remained entirely too stubborn to just give Megatron what he wanted. Sunstreaker did nothing when the warlord’s claws dug into the seams of his panel despite the way Megatron raised an optical ridge at him—would he retract, or would he not?

He had every time before, but every time before there were questions to be avoided.

There was no one to ask those questions, now. Everyone knew already. 

The panel stayed shut.

Megatron’s other optical ridge rose up as well, a second ahead of his claws sinking in and dislodging the entire cover. Sunstreaker grunted at the pain as the tyrant simply tore it off and threw it aside. 

Wetness already greeted Megatron’s digits when he shoved two of them into his valve without preamble, the sting only revving Sunstreaker’s engine higher. “Are you ever not wet for me?” Megatron hissed at him, leaning down even as he began to pump those digits in and out. Sunstreaker’s hips jerked into the motion before he could stop himself, followed by a furious growl—furious at himself, furious at Megatron.

“Frag off and stop flattering yourself.” Slag, but Megatron’s already thick digits would be nothing compared to his spike itself, and heat was pooling in Sunstreaker’s core just at the thought of that. His engine growled harder, anger rising in time with his arousal.

Slag Megatron for always turning him on so fucking effortlessly. Without even really trying, though at least he was taking the time to somewhat prepare him—a third digit slipped into his valve, spreading his calipers further with just another little sting. Sunstreaker’s helm fell back against the berth and he had to bite back a moan.

That was enough for the tyrant. His digits pulled out, then the familiar click of his spike cover retracting heralded the nudge of a very sizable spike against his valve entrance.

Sunstreaker had just the time to prepare himself before Megatron thrust in, all the way… But even having expected it, he couldn’t keep a groan from escaping his vocalizer no matter how he tried to strangle it. Megatron’s servos, so massive compared to him, caught his hips to keep him in place.

Not that Sunstreaker would have found himself too motivated to go anywhere with the warlord’s length splitting him open to the most exquisite strain of his calipers.

And that was even before he started to move. Once Megatron pulled out, only to push back in the next moment… Primus.

How wrong of him was it to say he’d slagging missed that stupid spike? Sunstreaker couldn’t keep himself from rocking his hips into the steady, heavy, deep thrusts. Megatron chuckled. “You’re hungry for it.”

“Slag you.” That did not come out as a fragging moan, dammit.

Sideswipe kept physically quiet, but in their spark his chortling reverberated all over the place. Sunstreaker growled harder at that. They were both laughing at him, fraggers.

But slag, the way Megatron’s pace increased until it was enough to put all of his previous berth partners to shame—he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to that. His valve was singing its praises at him, pleasure rocking his whole damn world until he couldn’t do more than grab onto the berth’s surface in a doomed effort to ground himself.

Megatron wasn’t kind, he wasn’t gentle. His hold on his hips was tight enough to dent and he pulled him back into every punishing thrust, as if the motion of his hips alone wasn’t violent enough. 

Sunstreaker wouldn’t have it any other way. Fragging forget Optimus—forget Ironhide. Optimus couldn’t even pretend to be anything other than soft and thoughtful, always so worried about Sunstreaker’s comfort every step of the way. Ironhide could try, but it never stopped feeling like he was just acting.  

The other Autobots weren’t even worth mentioning.

Megatron was nothing like them. He wasn’t acting, he wasn’t pretending, he was just himself—intense, demanding, taking.

Giving just by accident, as an afterthought. Megatron chased after his own overload so roughly Sunstreaker doubted they’d ever have a single frag that didn’t end up with him looking like he’d gotten thoroughly ‘faced, but frag–

It was fucking worth it. He could fix himself back up after, but in the moment, in this moment, only the sheer ecstasy Megatron was driving his frame towards mattered.

He couldn’t keep quiet. Fuckit, he tried, and he wasn’t a loud individual, not prone to voicing his pleasure—but he couldn’t not do that now as Megatron drove his spike into him over and over again. Sunstreaker writhed for more of it, shoving into every thrust until Megatron’s engine was rumbling in approval and Sunstreaker himself was moaning with every violent invasion into his frame. 

“Your words never seem to agree with your frame,” Megatron growled at him, shoving in particularly roughly to punctuate his words.

Sunstreaker couldn’t will his optics open, couldn’t stop his groan—but he growled right back. “Trust my words. I hate you.”

“But not my spike,” he could hear the tyrant snarl, and was his voice coming closer?

Then there were lips on his, as rough as the thrusts into his valve.

Sunstreaker was moaning. Why couldn’t he stop himself from moaning? And he shouldn’t– Frag, but he shouldn’t be winding his arms around Megatron’s neck to pull him ever closer, and he definitely, he definitely shouldn’t part his lips at the demanding bite at his lower lip that was only followed by Megatron’s glossa invading his oral cavity.

Slag it all. If the fragging Autobots had seen him now, moaning his pretty spark out as he took the warlord’s spike and moaned for more, let him kiss him, let him use him… Oh, he was a traitor, alright.

He took it until he couldn’t anymore. A hoarse cry rose from his throat as his overload hit him with all the energy of a bolt of lightning, arching his frame from help to pede—against the frame above his. Megatron growled as his valve clenched down, and a moment later Sunstreaker could feel further wetness assaulting his already sopping valve—could feel the charge from Megatron’s frame crackling against him, pulling him into another, smaller overload before the charge from the previous had even finished dying off.

He slumped against the berth as the last remnants of that finally abandoned him, his vents heaving. As were Megatron’s. At least he wasn’t the only one who had found that… Satisfying.

Megatron pulled back with one last nip on his mouth, letting his spike depressurize into its housing. As ever, a veritable flood followed its retreat, streaming from Sunstreaker’s valve, onto the berth’s edge, and to the floor from there. 

“Should we do that again, hm?” Megatron asked from him, and Sunstreaker finally found the willpower to open his optics to glare at the damn mech.

“Go to hell.”

There was a twitch at the corner of Megatron’s mouth, an almost smile that didn’t quite materialize before the warlord turned to leave, taking the step to the door. “Have Hook fix that cover,” he said as it opened for him.

Like they even knew where Hook’s repair bay was, but Megatron didn’t much enlighten them on that front before he just walked out.

The door closed on his heels.

Pits.

Sideswipe scooted into his field of view. “So…” his brother said, inspecting his heated, panting frame, spread legs, and the fragging mess between them. “I’ll clean that up. You just… Enjoy the afterglow,” Sideswipe grinned.

Fragger was teasing him. 

Sunstreaker snarled, but… Yeah, he didn’t really feel like moving.

Frag everything.

( Next )

[throwingideasatthewall]

Clone Wars:         Season 2

      Episode 1 Holocron Heist

We just   had     a heist

[One   nonsense    enough    to knock    me into   nonsensical   incoherent      rambling...]

    Two

Okay...

I’m prepared...

To do.   nonsense...

  Urgh

   Okay..

[Title      Screen]

  [Woah!]

    ....  ..    

Aight

    Okay

A lesson learned,    A lesson earned

Oh..

     That         snapped me out of it,

     A lesson earned                  is           a lesson earned

        [you don’t need a        person to tell you     basic         common sense                                you can figure out yourself]

  ....

   Assumed authority is     bullshit                                       Don’t need to                                    earn any-      [Sorry,              Still           Recov-       er-         ing           From           Last          ep-        Isode]

                  Okay...

                   Any-way

                   Jedi on a                        planet                             . .

                     Some-how                         tr                            ap                               ped                                 -                          Surrounded                               Clones                                  -                                Right-                                     -                           Why?

                           Like - if you needed parts-

                           Okay-

                             I’m                                  in  

                               -terested

                                 Any way...

                                     Wait                                      cruisers?  

                                      Gun   ships?                                                                   R-escue

                                       Oh                                              wait-

                                          That’s                                              Good

                                            Oh                                                  No,

                                              It’s                                                    Plo..

Jokes       About       How       He      Got       His      Men      Blown      Up                         Just                                gonna                                 put                                   this                                 over                                 here

                              Been a                                 while

Also Hey     yeah      what         is         he        doing         here?

  Doesn’t         he       have      Jedi        things        to       do?

      Get           a         new         fleet?

        I mean                th-            (Don’t                Condone               Child               So-                L                diers!)

  But    every     time       it’s     always    Obi-Wan      and    Anakin    because        all         the           rest        of          them        are         too        busy

     So             What-

     Alright          -          Whelp           -          I      don’t       care         —-

   Whelp          —        Ex-plo          —         Is      this       just       going         to       be       an     action        piece?        (Nothing       wrong        with           that;           just        need           a      different      mindset,)

     From          the     applications             of        child       soldiers           -          To          Shoot-

    -Why?

      It’s-       Nice-

-Droids

   Plo-

 General-

     ?

Ev-

Neat-

Good-

 Whelp-

  Grab ‘em to the medic        And Go!

   (Seriously       Windu figured this out yesterday.)

    Grunts

    You’d         think        the Jedi would give the      order?

Seriously,         Good miss,          Five           Min-           Got          Some           One-          Killed

   “ Asoka,”

   First Asoka       mention in the first five minutes

                                [maybe they got her character                                     better.]

                                  -Jungle

                                    You sent-                                         A child

                                    That                                        Logically can’t improvise                                      ...                                              Into                                              a jungle

                                      ....

                                      The  

                                     Fuck    

                                    Skywalker?                                     

Con-tact      Her        -         Dead      -       She’s very likely      dead-       -      Anyway       -        Hope   Anakin     taught       her    those    moves-       -      That’s       a      lot       of     emotion          -           In        the        movements;         Again;

     Monotonous,           Stunted,            Robo              Tot              -ic

         That’s                How              Child-

Nope-

   Tone’s          Off

So,         just           to           go            over;

       1. Tone ❌        2.  Dia-                  Log                   Ue- (?)

        3. Move               -ment    ❌

              I’m hop-

Extract-

     Taught-  

     Okay- 

     Teach         -ing   s

     Aight           Mary          Sue-

      I’m        sorry         but         the        light          is       literally       coming         out!

      Whelp-

      Okay-

        So it’s Ahsoka an    adult yet?

         Like that can be explained away as   acco-untability

          Otherwise,     she should   have a hard time        with        one       Droid!

      (No wait didn’t Obi-Wan just call her                  ‘young one ‘)?

                 Nope!

           Movie, get over there in your               shame corner

  That-        Was painful       over-      reacting

 And         Focus-

   I    Don’t        -      You    couldn’t      have     forced          it     more             if     you    tried         -

        The             Force-           d cha-          nge i          -n         Perspective           Not      Apprec  -iate      D-        . . .    .      Moving         on

  Whelp        ...

    Get            In          -

   That’s           a      direct      order-         -

  “Can’t-”

   Nope!

   That’s            It-

   Tone ❌

   Dialogue; ❌,?

   Move;   ❌    Ment

  Turn in your bad  

  writing card,    

   Movie

   ❌

 (Not a series strike,        Just             A          “Fuck         You,          Strike

          On the            Movie                 And,                This            Chara              -cter

                               (We just had such a good-

                                              Maybe; it gets better?

                                                                               Skipped ahead;                                                                                          It doesn’t

                                                                                       Sigh-

                                                                              *Puts on earmuffs

                                                                                 Meta-phorically

Aight      Back        To       19:06      (Original      time     stamp;           Play

*Think

 Friendly      Fire-

 Nvm

*Thing      Ex-plodes

   In-       stantly

Whelp-     

 You   called       her   before      a   council            ??

   Child          -ren          Can’t          Think           -

Okay

        Movie

       Children                  can’t                         think-

    From ag-

      “This is-”. 

       It should                    be   

         -But                           The              writers                        -                refuse                      to                  write                                  her                                   as                                   child                           -       

The       Pro-

“I-

The          Pro-            Blem         As         the     story       seems   to         be        placing            the               Jedi            on            a            high          pedestal     

        .....                Their             actions               here                as              reasonable       

           .....                         But                          it’s                  not                            ...                If Ahsoka was a child it would be a cruel use of power showing how used only to put the younger generation down before they’re                  old enough to understand it

              And how they’ve given Anakin the illusion of power   

                  -Boomer                               Bait

              If she’s an adult;                           This would be a show of        how             she’s childified by her peers

               As it stands;       

               The writers refuse to chose

Concerning,  due to the fact that  

Child-ify                 Ing            An                Adult       ......    Is    Wrong

  And      adult-ify        ing        a       child       is    wrong         ...      

  Un        equivocally,

Tally    Of       How     Many       Times       Ahsoka-        Is        Adult          -ify          Ied-           ;     

      This is necessary

 [Excuse for odd formatting           The “Movie”,                (Under the                picture)                  Caused                    Tumblr                    To                  heck                   up                  my               spacing)

           Continuing                   on;

“Time    away      from     the      battle-       field,”

  Good,        For          A        Child       Solider        -     (And   would’ve     been       a     good     show      that      any     kind   -ness     from     them       is   performative           ...

                   “Guard duty,”

Tally   Of      How   Many      Times      Ahsoka-       Is      Adult         -ify        Ied-         1

 Cite;      Child     ren    Don’t       have     that    much   emotion,        Nor    Pre-      fer      ence-        -

                 “Longer                       now,”

                    Dick                         —-                     Kinda

                     It’s                          better                            for                           children                             not                              to                               be                                in                              battle                                  —

                              So                                 not                                     a                                  complete                                    dick...

                                But                                   not                                    optimal...

                                 “Sorry”

So he said by people who don’t wanna take accountability for their actions and just stop doing the thing and     stop bringing the toxins into the world                                  

Point;     If you    were sorry    you would       stop     doing it,       stop     bringing         it        up,       and            do      better...     —-       Trying         to       control         the      narrative         isn’t          nice          (When           the          truth            is        objective)

       Only           the           self           may            be          both             .....

Security      -

  “Knowledge,”

    *Bag-age

      “Hm,”

  . .. .

   ...

...

Fisto  

...

 In-side

 St-upid      Forbid       Den    

Know-ledge

   (It’s likely   about     plants        Or      Weapons)

Also;

     Boomer         Bait!    

     (That’s something they offer younger         generations to follow their           stupid outdated tradition)

      It’s always          worse...

     (Also, this isn’t about Ahsoka trying to steal the         Holocon thing is it?

      Because her character is already                                                  -hateable- enough

        And if she has enough initiative             to steal the holocon

          - She’s an adult

           And should              be allowed entrance             anyway

          “Jedi            Council,”

             So,                  lady was a Jedi?

               Aight,

                Keeping an eye                     on that                        ...                  Aight                       -   

                 No

                 Went through one.                     drug trip

                   Already

                   .....

                 [Okay...

                ..Got                   a Drink                  of water                   ——                        Interrupt                     -ion

                  Wait I thought he was just a                     ball of                     fuck your plot

                  You’re telling me he actually works                      for                       Palpatine?

After   threaten       ing      Palpatine?

   This      dude           -        fucking         drug           trip            -

...Ser     vices

    I       honestly       thought          he         was             a          [fuck           your          shit]            guy

Now    he’s      a     de   tec- tive

Noir    ....

Movie     that’s      too      many     genres        .....

  You-     need       to    slow   down      .

          Your main            Chara-                   Isn’t                 Even               Esta-                    Blish                      -ed                      Prop                          er                         Ly

            Nevermind                    the           characterization

                 Note if it had been established he changes things every so often that would be neat

                 As                   it stands

               This                  dude is a                 fecking roller coaster

             Not any                thing                resembling                   good

[Giving    your      aud-   ience     a       drug   trip   isn’t   good   writing]

      It makes        them         dizzy!]

      So...       

    Holocron

    Like Palpatine is literally doing this just to fuck over       Ahsoka?

     Also, this is going to result in Ahsoka    being     unchild     -like       To take them out      too?

   I’ll get the -      counter     ready

[yes I have seen it    literally            every   Mall cop/ security guard movie   ever

The   fun     .    seeing how your    (Good)    chara      cters         -     interact     with      the   scenario          -       That’s      not   happening       here        -          If she was a child this would show how    Anakin‘s orders react with the environment

    If       she’s      an    adult;        We’re working through a checklist;         About        what we know about         her;

      Likes, dislikes, how they might come up in a   situation...

       The suspension...            coming when they do

With      Ahsoka...

  What do we know about her?

   Honestly?

    We know she likes         fighting         (Already in enabler of toxic behavior           -against other living beings)

       We know literally       nothing else about          her

       Except...

      That she’s      perfect...

Re-moving         All      Tension;

  Deal

I’m surprise he just wasn’t like    oh      yeah      sure,”

   [Ditches         with       the money]

    ...         ..

   Oh they’re actually talking   strategy

   Usually it’s just         ‘fuck em’ up            And that’s all             we ever           hear

Er-

Whelp-     Yodi’s    dead

Alas,       Poor      Narc

[assuming he can actually sense     disorder in the ranks]

 Gen.      Leader      Ship.      Tox

 He should know     he shouldn’t be doing that

  Focusing     on him       self

    And        practic        ing     accountability          ....       Constantly     micromanaging           and      checking            in            on             your           peers                   ..            Isn’t           going          to make             them           more           likely           to be       accountable..

        It’s         going            to          piss         them             off              ...

      Your (evident) distrust creating a toxic environment              As you were refused to               trust their   char   -acter

  You can’t give me   respect the guy that was just snooping      (Through the whole   uni-verse)

      That’s           the         point...

         A         dis-turbance          in the force

     Yeah?

     Intruders there will   be

     Okay, bullshit       he can see that

   Like;           Peri-pheral            Okay

    (Still tox that you don’t expect your peers          in a peripheral.          to be able to hold             accountability)

But this is galaxies     away        (Ac-tually.    on    Corousant)

  But.      He         Should        n’t       Know        That-

  ‘The      Narcs    pulling    authority     again,       master,”

  “Shh,       this         is         what         we        train-    I mean groom -        you         for!,”

     “But          You            Said,”

      (Con-tinuing             Earl-ier,)

   [Seriously        I meant to bring it up                                earlier,

             But are they really inhabiting                      Zero the hutt’s                         old hotel]

Like it could just be a Noir hotel

 But the positioning       and location         seem         familiar             . . .

     Tell        me...

    Who          the       frick           is          this?            ?

   “What            you        are      doing      back      there?”

    ...   ..

  Aight...

 Assis      -tance

    God          Lord,           He’s           Try             -ing

        -

    Main     tenance

     If I don’t idea   (who this guy was )or what was going on    then maybe that would make sense

       As it stands,             Nope,

        Crash-               es

        What’s             that?

         ....

       What?

       Seriously.             all he did was put another thing into another thing?

        ???

        ...

      Aww, he actually trusts           Bane..

    Thank you         ...

    Door..

    Techno         Service         ...       Droid

     As in a      “tech      -nical  service droid?          (Rt          (IT)     Tech             Guy?

     Or a technical     assistant         (One made of       tech)?

      (Or one specializing in    techno dance moves?)

     Also   is he supposed to get them      in?

  Is    that thing?

 They-   didn’t     really     establish     much-

 Butler      Droid...

Change?

 Todo...   “You are what I say    you are,”

Roomba- kicker

Also, having a roommate is just straight up       detective fiction...

 Like     buddy-cop detective but still     detective

  With noir,      Which       is supposed to be focused on independence        Dis(trust) in society        Which is       admittedly       (toxic)

   Or         seems          to be

     Those two   themes...

          Directly contra-      dictory

[with   Griev-      ous     they       made       it    work,     But     he   wasn’t      this    -         ]

“Uh,”

You    are    not   “The   Doctor,”       -      [that work      ed as    manif-   estation      Of    Greiv-     Ous’s      Toxic    Be-      Hav       -ior-         And      Human      Want        For        Com-        Pan    Ion-        Ship        -       Or         At        Least-      Vul-          Ner-          Aba-              ili            Ty-           -           This          Guy            -          So far he’s a       n(e)igh        invulnerable       Douche          Bag            -            With           No            -thing          Humane-            -           Not           quite      Ahsoka         levels              -       Intend       -ed           To be          an adult            -          Just-            -            Really needing to go     ham -           On the arrogance            And            inhumanity               (He sold his soul for      money- But makes it look      so good- what                    he                   does-                  Gets a sick       kinda  enjoyment from it,”)

             That’s how you   have,  to pull it off

             As it stands;    there’s      no    emotion     with      this    character

Is   the   robot   supposed to be like his   morality pet?

But he’s a   dick to   him   too

Really   he gets nothing   from me

How do even in the    “I-don’t-feel-anything-I’m-so-edgy-and-cool     look at me!’

  Vibes

   There’s nothing     fun...

   Yeah you can throw all the   ...clichés         you want in there

   [But that doesn’t work       if you don’t use them          properly]

     [I see the team up        with a female bounty       -hunter]

    [Predictable         “I work Alone...]           The only thing          those stories               share

            In minute]

But ‘once the effect of’   ‘wow that’s a lot of things.    Has worn off

 The story and character left   heartless

“Non-of- your       Bus-        iness,”

  Doesn’t have the     cockiness to make it      work

  [this isn’t    power-         Ful-]

    Down       right        ..cringe

      As it tries to shove shove two genres.. .    At least...        That don’t          Quite          .work                ...

        Least not the   way they’re trying to make them     work  

.....

..Today

 It’s noir

 The point is      no one’s          in a    good mood.. ...

Aight,

Wasn’t that-

Also,   shouldn’t      he    know-

 Based on how      open-     She     is-      To un-     veiling        her       mask..

   - -

   Robot

So sh-   ouldn’t she ask the robot to leave the room?

(If it’s such a big deal     to her?”)

   He can just run their       face through a     face scan       no?

 Mid-rim

   I thought he didn’t have a way   in?    [That’s a   pretty pathetic   way in.. .]

    [Palpatine’s      screwing           with            him]

       [Giv           -ing            Him             a          hard          time         and       satis    -iating           -          The    ab-    omin-      ations    desire      for    blood🎵,

    Two      birds,         one       stone,

     Also,       Movie,           That’s           the       wrong      amount         of      planning           for        the      wrong      genre          -        We don’t care how the   bank ro    -bbers      Art      -thieves

      Got           There

       This           isn’t           Heist              -           [Money           Heist,              Not              Terr-              Esc]             Got              It           Wrong              [Pre              dict-                   The                  Plot-]               Last                Time.                -

           The                 Focus              isn’t           Character              building-                  - it’s the                   ‘out of depth                     characters reaction to the                    scenario,’

And the wacky hijinks that    ensue

 Using their   talents...    

   Contrast-      ed against the environment        (Mall        cop        example]     

     Which seems to be the best       fit

   Stealing         the-  Holocron-           -         WHAT WAS THE         PURPOSE-

        Well-                At least they ack          -now-ledged                 Planning          really isn’t part of the subset,

                 Good                    (For them?)

                Aight                    Impossible                     ...

             What are the              emotions?

           [like they              literally.             just through in                   the              “the only place...”

             Why..?

             So quick rehash                    (Sorry                      but I can feel the                        drug                          trip coming through,)

                      (Effects-                             Of                            Dealing-                           With                              (bad) excess character;

                         (Deserts                               Metal...)

                       [Refresh]

                       He has a map of the Jedi temple                            Chip                            (Oh so that’s what that-                              (Isn’t he                            still-)  

                    [Changlin’]

                     Aight

                 Bog

                  [Refresh                        End]

                  [Voice                       acting?

                  [Mouth                         sync]

                      ...                        ..                      Aight

                      ..

                    In                         Tru-

                   Maybe                       take                        the                       teen- off guard duty

                     A thought

                    [but-seriously

                       No high                           Alert?

                        Only these   two..?

                        Info-     -Mation

                      Baggage

Seriously money would be a better   option

                        Or       just    street     cred

                     (Adult) humans,                         Aren’t that Liniar...

                    Any way...

                    East   Tower                          ....

  Well that’s better than some   dusty    old     books        -      Holos

  (Seriously at least that’s   present    baggage.)

  Whelp

   Nobody       notices         this       bullshit!

       On a supposedly          secure a       military          base            ....        ...

      Also in the Mid- day break           fecking           daylight!               (With the         hiest it made sense,                 That was a hostage                 political situation                Meant                  to draw in a huge                                              crowd;

               How?

              Cool                   Alright,

               Hey                   isn’t                   she                supposed                     to                      be                    standing                      still?

                 (Guard)

                  Doing patrols?

                   Like                       no                    emotion,                       Face                     Forward,                    Professiona                  -lism

                Not                 Greeter

             (Didn’t they literally call it       guard duty?)

              Like just say you’re sending her to   library service...

              Assis                  -tance

              Again,                  Wrong                     Field...

              They’d                    be                  talking                     to                    the                  library                   helper                    (Official)                      Con-

                 Bother

Not   how a   child   reacts Tally   Of      How   Many      Times      Ahsoka-       Is      Adult         -ify        Ied-         2/3  

   Cite;      Asoka       shows    intentional       over involvement      instincts        more       befitting          of          an          adult            ....

     Good

     Fully    understand        able      reaction          (Kinda)

    (Don’t          yell         at       children)

      Don’t      over involve       yourself             in          the          future            ....

    (But if you’re an        over-         involv         ed         and           (un-)childlike       abomination              (Getting          shoved             for              this                is               likely                 going                  to               happen)

              Dude was actually nicer than       an adult

             Enabler

             (Rule                    Of                    Excess                   Society;                    While                   excess                  verbalization                         is                      ex-                  pected,                   Getting                   in                     someone’s                   way                    (non-sport                        Ing-)                         (Or con     -ferr       ed-)            U-pon

                       Is                          not,                            Attemp                          ting                            to                          move                           them                             away                               the                           customary                                five                              times                                is                            expected)

                            Aight,

So the librarian was right there as     she     harassed        her     client)

    (Not saying;           But           you should get involved        in tox that doesn’t involve you)

      Just don’t         think that would excuse           Her         from ire

      “I can’t do anything right,”

Tally   Of     How   Many     Times     Ahsoka-      Is     Adult        -ify       Ied-       3/4

 Cite;      Child         -ren          Aren’t aware of      self        Ahsoka would repeat a line      blank       -ly

   “Likely      ‘sorry’

   Then back   away

  [Or      the      or     dered    rea       ction-)

    Aight

   Whelp

   Yes

   Just at the librarian be the      pro tag

(She’s      Tox        But..    .        Less         Tox..    ...

   But           Still..

  [Make         [Better]   Pro-ta  g        Than      Ahsoka           ]     

   In..   ...

  That’s a        library   computer..

   You      need        a      pass-        word.       -    The     robot-

   How?

  -

  What?

  Weak     Point?

  You know for     Boomer bait         They      mis-construe        How the library        works a lot

     [I know           -Hav-             Ing            Dealt-]

       Talk-ing            in the            library,

         Is pretty           off

         Like there’s        a reason people are encouraged            to go into the hallway             to take phone calls

          Loud

         These are the guys that value    meditation

          Dude.     Would be shushed       By   Several     irate      Jedi          ...  

    Told to     take it      outside          ...      ...

   I-

[I feel bad   For the Roomba]

[like dude, gaslights him      and then takes       his memory]

Like, Adults      Out     of     it.   ...

  But      ...Droids

   [we don’t know much about the       sentient ones     Or how much   senti ence]

    But          this         whole       scene...

    Makes me feel     dirty

    Like;       it’s played     for humor

    When;       it should be played            to how much         a bastard           this guy               is

      Screw-   ing         with       anything-  

       Like            That              ...  

      Toxic            ...    

      Sick..

  How?

     Aight..

    What.         .

    Re-          Cyc

    Why?         ... ..

Kenobi

Jump-ing coincidence

     [i’m con   -clusion]

       Damn,        the narc

         [No one   tell him   anything]

   [Might       fake         a       heart       attack]

    Comm.

     [How half assed is         Yoda’s peripheral?]

     Venti -lation

  -That’s        Smart-

   Almost       -Too             -Smart-

        👍  

  -Tower

    High         Alert

   Place            the       Temple        -

    Wasn’t, already?

    Left it undone

   Way to go     smart     guy           -      Cool        -        But      kinda    pointless..

 Aight-       Never mind

  I-  Might’ve       Been      Wrong-

 Al right

[Seriously,   no one hears this?]

 [In most heist movies      they at least had the    intelli-     gence-

    [No hate       -villains can be stupid]

  Do you some small well           re-lativel unknown library

   [or at least not the one     at the place they were robbing]

   Because everyone would      recognize that the actions occurring match up to what he’s describing         And the description        Of their       building.]

   Aight

   Neat-

   Past

  Whelp-

  Aight-

  Shred-          (Un-acc         Oun         T-able)

     K-Pop

     Well        that’s            a       name...

    Whelp..

Cool.. ..

Bane    ...

Whole..     temple

   And I heard you very          obviously        plotting...  

   So...  you’re getting kicked

Also he could be possibly looking up     intruders plans.. ...

Like pretty one dimensional     opinion    of on ‘High Alert’, lady

  [Especially       for a         librarian.]

Thank    you

 Whelp...

  There went my expectations

   Also,     Every Jedi leaving the library didn’t notice that that     shit?

   Like,  they didn’t have guard’s ready to apprehend him 

   ...On the           Other              Side?

         Okay...

         You just           moved her...

         Do you know this could’ve been an episode             with a lot of emotional depth              Showing how terrifying adults that abuse children can be             adults that            swear to have their interest in heart               And how overinvolvement               Is harmful              regardless of who it’s coming from                (Neglect- of child-                   And - accoun                       tability)                   Working off the                “blank line”,                 ‘I can’t do             anything right,’                    And the Jedi                -Council’s treatment of                   her                “Foreshadow                   -Ing,”                    (I use              that word              loosely)   

            Their            down-                fall

             Instead                     we                got                  this-

           And              he just abandons            the computer-

     Aight,             Just contin          -ued on - with          -out his         instruction

       Despite          see-ing           how bad           that          went.       Al-right

     Okay-

    Aight

    Really?

   Without    instructions?

   .

   In

    Calls       friend

     You were               fine       without him       the last few        seconds              .....

      “Give-”

   Not gonna      question that?

      “Voice-”

       She’s            a changling..

            “Now,”

          Hidden

          You’re              in a vent?

           Oh, Skywalker has           immediate            intuition               ...

           And a breech           didn’t somehow sound off alarms

          Yeah. .             Good..thing you didn’t close up the thing              ..

        Whelp..

        How?

       Okay. .

      Shame..           they didn’t get a hold of a force sensitive         kid             (I- don’t want it to       happen)

       Just-

      .. .

   .. Here

     Hurry          I can         Hear..       .        Bull-        Shit         .

   You have rocket boots        they have the force

    You shouldn’t         hear shit-

   Sur-prisingly,         No Ahsoka

     Good

    The lower       the counter stays..   

       The        better          for       humanity

 [and my      brain]

   [Vent]

   Seriously,       you didn’t tell your       partner?        About the Jedi on       High Alert?

   Ser-          Force-

   How deep         is that        thing?

   [Aight,          Pat-

    You’re telling me they still haven’t figured out the        Holocron?

     We only           saw-

     Shouldn’t one of you go one way and the        other go the other?

    To cover     more ground?

    They’re-        Really       putting       a lot      of faith-

In the   Comms

  Also shouldn’t there be more   Jedi crawling over the place?

   Seriously,         it’s just these two?

     [We know Plo       isn’t doing anything important.]

    [We saw       him near the opening?]

    And        Kid Fisto..

     Heck...          Is   everybody else doing?

    A-ight

   “Closer,”

    Shouldn’t it be      ..further

     Archive..     [Library]         Comms?

     Got it-

     Whelp..

      Okay..

      Not, putting up that       door,

      What are you         smiling about?

      There’s plenty of lasers

     And      you don’t even know        where the thing       you’re looking for               is

           (Inside the compartment)

      ....

   Aight

   Might- not have been a   smile-

    Look for       the open         vent   

    (Dude clum-           Un-          Acc             ountable)

       With             Vents

        Also look at all these        assholes standing around          doing nothing

  Also, no one’s going to check up on the child 

  Like, Ahsoka surely got that message      right?

   Temple-

   Deep in the         temple-

   Use-less

      ...

    ‘Cause you’re idiots       who don’t check for open vents           Or cover      more ground?

   Or...  

    [Get, anyone to help you, in this big ass vent,”

   It’s not very hard to see       why.. .

   Ass         -itance

  Ahsoka’s,         not gonna get blamed for this      is she?

   Won-

   Yeah, the narcs      pretty     useless

    Also, why can’t you have the dude just shut off those lasers like he did the rest?

  Done

    Oh, they address it   

     Good,

     Yep,

     How?

     But...

   Okay...   

...

    Okay   

   ....  

    What’re you         still       doing          ...

   Okay,

  What’re        you      doing?

   [Is the Holocron seriously right       there?]

     That’s. lucky

      Weirder               and             Wei-rder

         Hey isn’t your personality        over-written?

           By the               chip?

            Aight

          S-eriously?

         Still              Here?

         On- alert-?

Coin-     cidence?        !

  Augh

    Is that’s seriously the alert?

     Several          minutes-

       No wonder         those guys           were so late...

          ...

       Sense           De-          Cep          Tion

     Po-          S-ing            As            A           Jedi.

       Okay           now         Yoda’s            just         reading             the          death               report

     Jo-casta

     What?

       But           that’s         actually             a           good            idea                -              If shits about to go down you might as well find the person who might hold them accountable instead of letting you get the shit beat out

       Run-

       Serious-ly           shouldn’t she just shout out her name?

       [Like I know                       - High Alert-                     But Ahsoka isn’t going to be much use against a                    Adult...                Either way                                        Might as well   find her [and     scare off the intruder-]

  Also how come     “innocence”        doesn’t get           the same notification

       Did they forget his              wristwatch?

       [Like-            seems important-]

       Who are you?

           Dang                 It?

            You               were             supposed                  to                report                 back!

               Also no one           heard any of this before

           Also; are you going to tell me that AHSOKA, the child   soldier,      Is going to beat this guy       When      the fully trained elderly Jedi got her ass kicked?

   Nah.. .

   “You,”

    Dead

Tally   Of      How   Many      Times      Ahsoka-       Is      Adult         -ify        Ied-           4/5

   3x

-Un-orthodox show of initiative              1x

-Counter          1x

- Surviving this            1x

(4x) 

  Getting her on the           run!

        1x

Tot; 7/8

-Surviv-ing;

   - 1x         - 1x

    -1x

    -1x         -1x

    -1x

    -1x

    -1x

    -1x

   -2x         (I’m tired of counting them        one by one-)

     -2x

     - 2x

     - 2x

     - 2x

     - 2x

    - 

    Er

    Okay

     Whelp

    Aight

    -Right

    Shape

    -Skill

     -Ew

     Whelp

      Okay-

      Where did         your get your skills from?

     Abomination?

     Aw-  

     Todo-

   -Yet

    What-ever

    Butler

    Tech

   Neither         of       which       have     anything        to do         with       ironing        doors        open           ....   

      ....       There       he goes

     Sy-mpathesize-  more with him            than this douche bag even if his          turn does make a little sense

     Aight.

     Whelp

      Finally found that          vent.. .

       Right

       No, he wasn’t

      “Comms,”

        Not            Holo-          Cron

      .....

     Completely un-realistically        

Tally   Of     How   Many     Times     Ahsoka-      Is     Adult        -ify       Ied-        28/29        And         1/2

    (1/2 because referring to the action what respectively doesn’t count as a whole- sin-          It does deserve note that you decided to repeat your bad writing-)

         Jedi

   She       Says-

  (Un       Be        Li       Ev        Able)

 Holo      -cron

 Jedi       To      Open      It     ..  

Okay,   

..   

Up-     To-

 Again, with the   communication     center-!

  Dude, just wanted a   Holo-cron

   (Seriously        that was very tortured      logic,       Think the writers;     just wrote this scene        Then realize but wait       “why are they in the Holocron/             Comm           Cent,?”

     And that’s how        Anakin/Obi-Wan           Obsession with the com      center began...

    [sorry but there was no reason for them to be in the        Com center!

      That I’ve heard!]

   In

   Aight,      What?     What       -ever

   ...  ..

  Wrong-

    Yes

    Com-          Center-

    Ser-iously     even he doesn’t know what’s up

   You   heard      me

  And        my     stupid      plan

    To send you to the     Coms center to justify Obi-wan’s     obsession-

    Craw-          ling

     And we have no reason      to-o

   Why?

    Now!

   Yelling- doesn’t mistake the clear lack of   reason

   What-     ever-

    Right

    That’s one way      to do it

    Really

  Also, how does   -that not-

That was less than   one minute

Also,   but no one else will hear that but   these two      . .

 And they’ll   still progress to the   comm center        ...

“It came from the com center,!”

   How!?

You, guys,

  Comms,       Archives,

   Aight,       Nice

  Com-munication        center-

    Ha-           ha-          ha-    (I’m sorry   but that has come back around      to kinda funny,”

 [something Happens across the     galaxy]

Obi-won; It was the com’s center

—-

Aight,    right, 

...

O-kay

...

How??

 Where?

 Okay      ...

Cloak       Ing?

 What?

[you can’t defy the   rules of logic that much       (Physics)       You need to explain where he went   otherwise it’s a loony tune      Of    sus-    pen    sion-

Okay?

What??

I thought-       the thing-  

....

O-kay

right

Take it,

Which       ,One

 That-

 Right

What-      Ever-

  Aight-

He knews

 What-      Ever

  Don’t call   your eggs

   Move

  Restraint

  Whelp

 Use-less

    Just     There

     Whelp

     Nope-

      Okay-

       He           Try

      [Hey         guys,]

       Off               That’s           some         assumed          authority              over         familiarity..

        Aight..

      Okay,

      They’re really            letting             him             get            away             with              the             story

         Tries-

       What?!

       -When-

      Bomb-  

        Both-

[Also   Mace   Windu        is     still      the       only       semi-efficient      Jedi...

   Asshole !

    (Can’t          make the text bigger enough to display my           outrage!)

   [they      played that off         as humor!]

     That was a scream of death!

     Of         Murder!

   [if that was a sentient-       And my God     it seemed damn close!     Dude was just murdered

   The surprise-        “ I didn’t        see it coming, h        onestly not his fault kind!”

      One that would call for      immediate robotic vengeance!

    * im-mediate    ac-countability

      If sentient,

   What the Hell?!

     That-

     Horror        -        fy-            Ing-

      Oof

“Was        it     sentient?      Crud, I      might       lose        my       least       toxic    credentials

  (           )

   Whelp

    How?

     No        Way-

   A-ight

   Shit

  -shit

- she did     nothing  

   I-

  Call      Sec-

  Whose       that?

    Whelp

     Okay..

     That          Who

    Dys-   functional          family          road         trip             -           War

       No          shit

 Oh wait at           the comment table was by all the other Jedi

       So...

       the whole time Obi-wan was just complaining        he didn’t want to do the job

     Skywalker          agreeing with him...

      And...  wanting to ditch their post

 In chara,

   Just, a little bit funny      when you think about it

  Right,

 You bought            them      all the way         here?

      ...

Also look isn’t the unchild-like abomination adorable when she’s talking about punishing people more severely

Holo-cron

The heck     is a       holocron...

Wait-

 What-

   Why-

   How-

   ??

 Why is this     being allowed to      happen?   -

    ...

  Snitch

[like seriously how is it helping her   case, whatsoever?

Plea     Bar-gin

Aight,

Okay

That was just a completely random target   on his list...

- -

The one accountable adult

Keeper       Kydra      Crystal-

- Holocrons

   Data

     -

   You get out of here         youngling

     Force         Sensitive       Child ?

     Are we really going to get into the        powers        eugenics?             (Or         power        genetic       superiority)

       Also would it be a kin to basically every child or just any child destined for leader ship

   (Like gen       leader ship?)

    Cause..

Also, yeah   good idea keeping that around

And you named...

...

Young’lings

 Future

Oy!     You put that back where,   it came from so help me

Future  

vision

is cheating

In reality,   if you did have that power,    you should keep     your mouth        shut

And it completely negates   the point of a choice based universe

   (Takes all the       risk out of it)

    Making the story     completely useless

    (For the sake of tension       I’m going to ignore        that..)

    Going on the       assumption...

     That’s the Jedi           are just a bunch of          narcs

       Who           like        claiming they know the future

       When in reality only the future              knows the future...

           Worn.                 Them

              Oh so it’s just School    roll call...

    Contact

   You must

Ya no dude’s already a    headstart...

Ahsoka

 Dude,  he just override   the punishment   

  Does he   have the authority to do that?

   [I     don’t     think        so]

 Cad bane

   He      probably isn’t

   And you already know him From the previous episode

    Good for         Obi-won

      Aight

     Mace Windu         don’t give a fuck

      Kid Fisto              disappeared

      And. .       Luminara(?)

       Went to go get a snack....             ?

        I don’t             know

        Yoda

        Got          Overruled

       Aight,           Okay

  .....

     This episode...

         Makes me feel disgusting              Watching                The middle                 At least

           It’s very clearly                 boomer bait...

           The beginning...

          Focus-ing on the           importance of taking orders           (With no                       sarcasm                                   to my understanding,)

       Progressing,               Into, 

             Dah, de, dah,                          Generation                        ____                    doesn’t               understand                  books!

                  *We might  if they got out of our way, let us do our thing, dis-covered and pract-iced excess, on our volition

                   *if we wanted   to

Honestly   convinced.  I should’ve      given       them          a        strike       right       there 

Out     of  

Malicious

 Won’t   (Out of restraint)

But     a   thought   none-       the-  

 less

Being        a     (toxic)      Boomers     Fantasy        in   which    they,      the     all   powerful      all   knowing       adults     must       help       poor     Ig-      nor        -ant       (Child)-

(I’m sorry   this really       disgusts me)

  -with enough initiative            To praise their Brilliance

         (It’s re-ally   di-sgusting)

           This isn’t            seen as an overreach                   Or con-                Des-cion                      Of                       A                     Gen

And gives no   in-dication it recognizes how creepy what it’s doing is

Apart from the lighting in the council room

  *Which       I’m now convinced is permanently broken

    And continues with the assum-ption of a   life-time                       Over the future

     Breaking; the story pretty thoroughly

     And announcing the       return to      mediocrity...

     (Border       -ing on attempt at          lower        standards)

 (Also they playoff the death of a semi-sentient species      For            Humor?

       He          died        screaming!

[lesdemonium]

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope Chapter 2

Ship: Geraskier Word count: 5801 Chapter: 2/16

Summary:  

“Such a nice, beautiful sound,” the fae crooned. “If only he were this way always.”

Julian’s mother stood up. She claimed she was prepared to stop the fae, to protect her baby, but in Julian’s darkest moments he doubted this part of the story. His mother loved him, of that he had no doubt, but she had been young and weary, and even years later, she couldn’t quite get the twinge of exhaustion out of her eyes when she recalled Julian’s infancy. Even if she had been keen on protecting him, the fae was too close, too fast, too set on his plan.

“A gift, for the new mother,” the fae continued. He leaned a hand in to stroke Julian’s cheek. “I give you the gift of obedience.”

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier’s mother with Jaskier’s obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the “gift” became more of a curse.

Additional tags: AngstAngst with a Happy EndingHeavy AngstUnrequited LoveNot Actually Unrequited LoveAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceCanon EraNot Canon CompliantCursed Jaskier | DandelionAlternate Universe - Ella Enchanted FusionCurse of ObedienceRape/Non-con ElementsImplied/Referenced Rape/Non-conJaskier | Dandelion Whump

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Life on the road was harder than Jaskier expected. He was talented, that was for sure, and he often could make a fair bit of coin if he played the works of other bards. But that wasn’t what Jaskier wanted. He wanted to make a name for himself with his own work, and so he kept trying. He tried to write, he tried to perform, he tried to eek some sort of feeling and poetry out of his history lessons and his own personal experiences. They were lacking. He almost didn’t blame his audiences for throwing food at him, though it was still quite rude . At least he got a meal out of it, usually.

When he saw the witcher in the corner in Posada, Jaskier hadn’t approached him thinking he was a gift from destiny. In fact, he had only one thing on the mind, and he hoped to have it inside him in some capacity by the end of the day.

That didn’t happen, but still he followed Geralt. He probably reeked of desperation of two different kinds: he still was incredibly interested in proving his theory that the witcher made more noise in fits of passion than in general conversation, but now he also needed his expertise. If anyone would know about the fae, it was a witcher. Jaskier needed Geralt, more than he would have liked to admit.

If nothing else, he was a particularly effective muse. Jaskier had never written something so quickly as he had “Toss A Coin” and never had he gotten something with such a good reception. Even Geralt warmed to the song eventually, in his way. Not the song itself, Jaskier was sure, but what the song did for him.

With Geralt, there was a certain sort of freedom. Most of his commands Jaskier was happy for. He had never lived on the road quite as much as he did now, and Geralt telling him what needed to be done made things easier on Jaskier. Jaskier’s compliance also made him appear more helpful than he actually was. Any other orders Geralt had for him were easily satisfied.

“Go away,” Geralt said, and Jaskier stumbled a few wayward steps away from the witcher.

“Shut up,” Geralt said, in exasperation. Jaskier’s mouth closed and he hummed loudly until Geralt was forced to bark out, “Stop!”

The vague orders, Jaskier had learned, largely went away on their own. The less specific the better, and luckily they didn’t seem to build on each other too much, unless the orders were specific and goal-oriented. His mother had gotten her way by saying “Do not speak for the entire night.” “Shut up,” seemed to only last until another order was given.

Traveling with a witcher also afforded Jaskier a certain amount of protection from others. It was an easy way to stay away from people, like the fur trader in the red coat who had stared at Jaskier as if the bard was a decoration he’d like to add to his collection. When Jaskier was with Geralt, people stayed away, or if they didn’t, Geralt was there to prevent anyone from stealing Jaskier away.

Not that Geralt realized that was what he was doing. Jaskier was sure that, on some level, if the witcher had been at all aware, he would have allowed the stealing. He let Jaskier stay, nonetheless, and though life with a witcher took adjusting to, Jaskier was up for it.

“This is where we part, bard,” Geralt said, time and time again.

“So you can go fight a striga without me again? Hardly, Geralt,” Jaskier scoffed. “I had to make up half the details, then deal with you bemoaning me for being incorrect on the details, only for you to then refuse to correct me . It’s far easier for everyone if I’m just there.”

“You weren’t going to come with me for the striga, Jaskier. You would have died.” Geralt’s voice was flat, resigned, but he allowed Jaskier to continue following him out of the town.

Jaskier waved a dismissive hand. “Death is merely an unfortunate side effect.” He glanced up at Geralt, only to see a look almost as powerful as Geralt’s igni in burning him on the spot. “Oh, alright . But a rotfiend is hardly the same as a striga. Besides, taking one out does not involve fighting it until dawn inside a castle. There are a great many more places for me to watch from a distance. A safe distance. And, this way, you won’t have to hurt yourself with your attempts to be verbose.”

Geralt seemed satisfied by this answer, if his grunt was anything to go off of. Considering how much time Jaskier had spent around Geralt, he supposed the grunt was quite a bit to go off of. He had commanded Jaskier to stay in town until he returned before, but this time he allowed Jaskier to continue along beside him and Roach.

The rotfiends--it turned out there was a pack of them--were disgusting. Jaskier was pretty sure he would have a few stanzas on the smell alone . But Geralt was incredible. Geralt always had such a dancing quality to his fighting, and more than once Jaskier had distracted himself on this detail alone. So far, he hadn’t truly been able to capture just how graceful the man was in his songs, but he was pretty sure no one would believe it anyway. Usually people did not look at a great beast of a man like Geralt and think “graceful,” no matter how foolish Jaskier thought they were for it.

Then again, they also didn’t look at Geralt and see “beautiful” which was truly a travesty in and of itself. While Jaskier had initially hitched himself to the witcher’s wagon for selfish reasons, he had to admit that they were no longer the reason he was here. Sure, he still would do just about anything to have Geralt pin him to the ground and have his way with him. And, sure, eventually he was still planning on finding a way to casually bring up his interest in the fae. He had to do it without alerting Geralt to his true motivations, which was tricky, and the main reason it hadn’t come up yet in the now four years he had been acquainted with the witcher. Now, though, now he was here because he just… wanted to be. Geralt was brave and noble and a true friend, even if he kept Jaskier at an arm’s length. He was skilled in battle in a way that was amazing to watch, and a solid, safe person to be around.

When Jaskier looked at Geralt, he saw amber: warm, bright, and beautiful. Secure in a way he had never felt before. With Geralt, he could reach out and embrace danger, and know that he would not be harmed. Even his monsters, like the rotfiends, had a simplicity to them that Jaskier’s monsters never did.

Hours later, when they had found their way back to town to collect their coin, and made it into a small, warm room, Jaskier still could only see amber. He hadn’t wanted to perform, beyond an almost half-hearted display of “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher” to prompt the villagers into fair payment. Jaskier pretended it was because he was trying to compose a new song, but he knew it was truly because he wanted to keep feeling amber. Performing meant oddly shouted-out commands. Jaskier wasn’t in the mood to be clever.

Jaskier perched upon his bed as Geralt worked, reorganizing the saddlebags for probably the hundredth time. He always insisted they were off-balance, and Jaskier had learned long-ago not to interrupt Geralt in his fiddling. Surly witchers were a pain to deal with. Jaskier pretended to be involved in his composing, but he turned just enough to sneak furtive glances Geralt’s way.

“Geralt,” Jaskier finally said, dutifully keeping his voice even.

Geralt hummed in acknowledgement. He didn’t pause his work or look up, but Jaskier didn’t expect him to. Didn’t want him to, really. This would be easier to do if Jaskier pretended that this was an idle conversation.

“You’ve met a great many creatures in your time,” Jaskier began. Geralt snorted. “Any particularly interesting ones?”

“Don’t you already have material for a new song? Rotfiends not poetic enough for you?”

Jaskier feigned affront, a hand to his chest as he shot Geralt a scandalized look. “A true artist, as I am, can turn even the most disgusting of creatures into inspiration. Though I will have my work cut out for me to make my audiences trip over themselves in interest, rather than lose their suppers at the thought of the smell .” Jaskier scrunched up his nose, then continued on. “This is for curiosity’s sake. I am a seeker of knowledge, Geralt. I wish to know more of the creatures in the world. Perhaps a particular sort of creature. One that finds itself woefully lacking in printed information, but what is there paints a very peculiar--”

“Speak plainly, bard.”

Jaskier huffed. If he wanted to, he could get around that one, but why bother when the curse was giving him an out to get direct information? “Have you come across fae?”

Geralt paused for a moment. “Once or twice.”

“What were they like?” Jaskier’s heart was beating fast, and he tried everything he could to slow his rate down. He forced his breaths to slow, hoping that soon his anxious heart would get the hint and stop giving away all his secrets to the witcher’s enhanced hearing.

“Tricky,” Geralt answered with a hum.

Jaskier shot him an exasperated look. Geralt was still looking at his pack, but the small smile on his face told Jaskier that he was being taciturn on purpose . Jaskier did not appreciate it.

“Geralt, for once could I get some information out of you without pulling your teeth? Honestly, for someone who has benefited so much from me singing your deeds and praises, you sure are unwilling to offer me any information.”

“I thought this was curiosity, not material?”

Jaskier huffed again, finally dropping the notebook in front of him onto his bed. “It is , but that was more of a blanket statement. It’s not like I can go and find a book on the fae, that’s guaranteed to be chock full of the misinformation you so loathe . So, since you have a wealth of information on the monsters of this region, why don’t you bend my ear with your expertise for once?”

Geralt answered with a huffy laugh and shrugged. “They’re not monsters , exactly. Most witchers won’t take contracts on fae. They’re tricky, they’re vain, and they’re not to be messed with. But they’ll largely leave humans alone as long as they don’t insult them,” he answered with a shrug. “Both times I got mixed up with a faery, I narrowly got away.”

“How would you go about finding one? Any one, or a particular one? Or… or a court, or--” Jaskier cut himself off. To go further down this direction would likely add too much suspicion. The searching, suspicious look Geralt gave Jaskier confirmed this suspicion.

“If you’re smart, you don’t.”

“But it can be done?”

Geralt sighed. He stood, putting away the bags he must have finally been satisfied with. “To find a particular one, you would have to find the court they belong to. Unless you just happened to get lucky--or unlucky--enough to stumble upon them. But the court would know where its subjects are.” Geralt began to undress then, and had it been any other conversation, Jaskier was sure this would have distracted him. Even after all this time, it was hard not to get distracted by a bare-chested Geralt, covered in hair that Jaskier just longed to run his fingers over. This conversation was too important, though, and his dedication to making it seem unimportant even moreso.

“And how would you find the court?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier, then returned to his bed. “Fae tend not to venture too far away from their own forests, unless for particular business. If someone was looking for a particular fae they had met before, likely they would find it near where they met the fae in the first place. Then you just… look for the entrance. Humans usually stumble upon the entrance on accident. You can track it with magic. It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible.” He paused, then shrugged. “I can’t say I know the specifics beyond that. Haven’t tried it. Like I said, if you’re smart, you don’t.”

Ah. So that meant a return to Lettenhove. That, Jaskier was not excited about, not in the least. But if he wanted to find Lazuli, he had little choice. For now, though, he could put this off. He felt far from ready to face the fae that cursed him, much less an entire fae court .

Jaskier only realized he had been too quiet, too thoughtful for too long when he finally looked up to see Geralt staring back at him strangely. His eyebrows were furrowed and he leaned forward, and Jaskier was pretty sure he had never studied Jaskier’s face that diligently. Jaskier tried to laugh and make a joke to throw Geralt off, but Geralt cut him off.

“Why are you asking, Jaskier? You aren’t going to try to find a Seelie court, are you?” Geralt asked. His voice held no humor. Honestly, he sounded almost concerned , and wasn’t that just touching?

“Geralt, come on, I told you, I’m just trying to--”

“Tell me the truth, Jaskier.”

Bollocks. Well, Jaskier had gotten around this one before, he could do it now. People never seemed to specify which truth they wanted. “You’re very knowledgeable, Geralt. It’s actually quite impressive to me. All my years of private tutors and my time at Oxenfurt, and I still think you could fill far more books with your knowledge than I could with mine. Then again, you’ve had quite a bit more time to gain that knowledge than I have, so it only seems fitting that you--”

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier sighed. “I have no plans to go find a Seelie court, Geralt. I believe you that it’s dangerous.” He had already fulfilled the restrictions of the curse with his previous truth, but even this wasn’t a lie. He didn’t have plans to find the court--yet.

Geralt sat back, satisfied. He nodded, then laid down on the bed and rolled over. Tonight, he would probably actually sleep. The fight with the rotfiends, though Geralt would not admit it, had worn him out, which was why Jaskier had insisted on renting a room rather than setting up camp. Geralt didn’t sleep well on the road, and rarely slept well in an inn, but he seemed to do marginally better in an inn on nights when Jaskier stayed with him, rather than finding another bed to warm.

Jaskier was pretty sure he was not going to sleep even a moment. Not while this new information turned over and over in his head.

read chapter 3

[bnha-dumpster]

Day 2: Size Difference, Voyeurism, Hate-fucking

guess who gave up

Pairing: Endeavor x Male!Reader Tags: Anal creampie, forced voyeurism, discovering kinks, size difference, angry/hate fucking, office sex, intimidation, dub-con

Bad PR is unheard of for Endeavor. For you, a new hero that’s still getting his shit together after graduating? Bad PR seems to be your best friend. You’re at a hero agency that specializes with newer heroes, helping them get off their feet. Your bad PR isn’t too bad, it’s more like a faun trying to walk for the first time.

Endeavor, the terrifying man, can’t afford to have bad PR. So after yelling at you, a new hero that saved a few civilian lives, for being reckless in front of cameras and press, hell was raining down upon the hero. The lectures from the people who work for him have built him up to a point where he’s ready to burn down the entire city. An intern has an idea that seems okay: take you as a sidekick for a while. 

It’s not long before you’re standing awkwardly in your civilian clothes in front of him, being glared at harshly. 

“Is there something you need, Endeavor?” You shift in your spot, trying your best to make eye contact. It’s not that easy when you’re being glared at and the heat is far more than anyone can handle, even in winter. 

“From now on, you’ll be my sidekick.”

“Excuse me?” He says it with such a tone that you nearly sputter. He sounds so final, sure that this is what will happen. But nothing has been discussed with you and as far as you know, this is your day off. The one hand you can see slams down on his desk and you jump a little.

“I said, you’re going to be my sidekick. I’ve already had it arranged.” 

“No.” You slam your hand on his desk in return, glaring as best you can. “I don’t want to deal with you and I definitely don’t want to be your sidekick. There’s no way in hell that I’m letting you take my livelihood from me, asshole.” 

“You don’t have a say in this, brat. You caused me some trouble.” About to bite back, you’re cut off. “I could easily destroy your career as a hero, so I expect you to behave.” 

With that, you take a step back and slouch, giving up. He’s right. Endeavor could easily ruin your reputation and keep you from getting hired anywhere. You’re not looking at him directly, but you can see the smirk tugging at his lips. Taking a step back, you get ready to leave the room and get on with your day. But the chair Endeavor has been sitting on scrapes and the man stands up, grabbing your body and nearly throwing you to the floor. 

“We’re going to work on your manners. I won’t stand for a sidekick who won’t look me in the eyes. It’s weak.” With you on your knees, back pressed against his desk, you have no idea how this relates to the situation. Endeavor is close to you, uncomfortably so. He stares down at you and in hopes of making this shorter, you meet his gaze. 

It’s stressful to maintain eye contact with someone who’s forcing you to. You really hope that’s all this is. At least, until you hear the shuffling of fabric and you catch the movement of his arms briefly. There’s a slow zipping sound and you flinch when you understand what’s going on. You expect him to force your head towards his crotch, but he just grabs your chin and moves your head to look dead in front of you.

You’re face to face with something you definitely don’t want to see. Even if he’s not hard, Endeavor’s cock is massive and intimidating just to look at. He’s thick with veins bulging out from the skin and you swear you can see his pulse. The hero takes it in his hand, slowly pumping it in front of you. You go to turn your head, only for your hair to be grabbed and head forced back.

“You’re going to look at my cock the entire time and you’re going to let me cover your face with my cum like the slut you are. If you look away again, I’ll fuck your throat so you can’t look away, got it?” 

Holding back a whimper, you nod and try to keep your eyes forward. You’re uncomfortable as he pumps his cock slowly, making a show of it. With how close he is to your face, you can smell the musk that is distinctly Endeavor. He’s close enough that if he moves his hand harder he might just get his precum on your face. He’s kind enough to keep his movements slow and rhythmic. 

You want to look away so bad. If you weren’t threatened with choking on your new boss’s dick, you might do that. Looking is a lot better than being forced to take something so large down your throat.

“Endeavor, sir…” He doesn’t stop but he does grunt in response. “Really, why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t give you an answer. All he does is lean his body closer and rubs the head of his cock against your mouth. You want to turn your head. All you can do is keep your mouth closed and keep staring at him. Endeavor doesn’t push further. He just rests his cock there, hand pumping slowly. The low groan you hear him make sends a warmth through you. Without looking, you can feel your own cock twitching and beginning to strain against your pants. You clench your teeth and try to focus on what’s in front of you before you realize that looking at him is what’s affecting you. 

The change in your demeanor is subtle, but Endeavor still picks up on it. He’s not sure why you’ve changed. With a swift movement, he shoves his foot into your crotch, sliding it under you when you jump a little. The hardness straining in your pants is flush against his leg. The hero grins and begins to push his leg further against you, grinding slowly. He’s grinning down at you as he watches you try to resist grinding into his leg, teeth clenched and hands balled into fists. 

“It turns out that my new sidekick is a pervert.” You’re thankful when he pulls away, his leg leaving you. You can’t hide the whine of disappointment when the friction on your cock disappears though.

“So you get off watching other people touch themselves, huh?” 

“N-no! I don’t!” You scramble up from your feet, only to be turned around and forced on the desk you were sitting against. 

“I don’t believe you.” He rips your pants and boxers off of your body, spreading your legs. “I can see how hard you are. Your cock is leaking.” 

Your hips are far enough away from the desk that he can grip you in his hand, roughly running his thumb over your tip, spreading the precum. You bite your lip to hide the groan that wants to leave you.

“You’d love to have my cock fucking you, wouldn’t you?” Pathetically, you shake your head as he lets go of your cock. He spreads your ass apart to look at your hole, spitting on you without a care. You shudder when the warm spit lands on your hole. Endeavor takes a finger and shoves it into your ass without warning. His finger is huge and it hurts when he digs and prods against your walls. He’s keeping your body flush against the desk with his other arm, pushing you down so you can’t squirm.

His finger curls into a spot that makes you want to scream but you bite your lip and whine. Your ass tightens around his finger so he rubs his finger there more. 

“So it’s right there, huh?” He shoves another finger in you, stretching you out and prodding you more. You let go of your lip and whine loudly. A deep chuckle leaves Endeavor. “You’re so needy, Y/N. But you’ve been good, so I’ll give you my cock.” 

“No, don’t!”

“Shut up, I can feel you tightening around my fingers. I know you want this.” You don’t get another chance to speak up before he forces his cock into you, sheathing himself fully as his balls smack against yours. It’s a painful stretch and his thumb circles your hole.

“Maybe I went a little too hard, you’re bleeding a little.” That’s all he says before he begins to fuck you, ramming into you without a care. His hands are holding your hips in a bruising grip. You cry out and grip the edge of the desk for support. The way he slams his cock into you is cruel it scrapes your insides with each thrust. It almost feels like he’s trying to turn you inside out. Incoherent babbling leaves your mouth as he fucks you, begs and pleads mixed together. 

The pain fades and you begin to feel an uncomfortable pressure, especially when he pulls out. You’re flipped around and you’re forced to look at Endeavor’s smug face. He slams back into you with one hand on your hip, the other holding your chin. Even without saying anything, you know that you’re supposed to keep eye contact with him. Through teary eyes, you manage to look up at him. 

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?” He sheathes himself in you and stops, letting go of your chin to trail down your stomach. His hand presses against your lower stomach and you feel his palm rubbing something. It takes a moment to figure out what it is without looking at it. With how big he is, you’re not all that surprised that his cock is visible when he’s inside you. 

“I was going to ruin your career.” His voice is low, intimidating. “I was going to turn you into a public embarrassment. You just had to be there and be reckless, didn’t you?”

He begins to pound into you again, growling with each thrust. With the way he’s inside you, a pleasant warmth grows inside you. Insults fly from Endeavor’s mouth with each movement and he no longer cares about whether or not you’re looking at him. You claw at his arms, tears streaming down your face and moaning between sobs. 

“Brat.”

“Whore.”

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a hero.”

“You’re a better slut than a hero.”

“You’re so damn troublesome.”

With a broken cry, you cum, body tensing as your fingers curl into his clothes. Your head is thrown back as you writhe in his hold, the cruel pressure on your prostate being too much. He follows soon after from the spasming of your walls, filling you. Endeavor’s cum is hot and you can feel it as he coats your insides. You whine in protest as he pulls out of you, putting your clothes back on you in a kind gesture. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pushes your fumbling, still confused form out of his office, watching you wobble.

[hurricanerin]

I’ll Never Tell Ch. 2: Hate Myself

Pairing: Loki/OFC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, non-con, power imbalance, violence, breeding, forced orgasms.

Chapter summary: That time we signed and sealed.

<<Ch. 1 | Ch. 3 >>

INT Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist.

*Because Petra doesn’t understand Jotun, I don’t provide translations aside from skapning, which means “creature.”  (I’ll tell you a secret though, I culturally appropriated an entire language from my fellow Norsk.  Google Translate will lend a helping hand if you’re that curious.)

Before dawn, Petra awoke to a nudge to the ribs.

“Rise,” grunted a female voice.

Eyes opening slowly, blurred with sleep, she scrubbed her face with her hand and hissed when a foot connected with her middle a second time.

"I’m getting up,” she growled.

The Jötunn woman at her side huffed and went back to work, stirring a pot over the fire.  The smell of simple oatmeal made Petra’s mouth water, and she scrambled to get up.  Still dressed in her clothes from the day before, she straightened her outer layer and smoothed her hair.

“May I have some of that?

The woman muttered something in her own language and spooned a serving into a metal bowl that she shoved at Petra.  The Jötunn threw a spoon at the dark elf, who caught it gratefully and dug in with vigor.

“The King wants to see you,” grunted the giant.

At his mention, Petra’s mouth ran dry, making it difficult to swallow the bite of oats she’d taken.

“Where is he?”

“You’ll find him in his tent,” said the woman, her words heavily accented.

In his tent. She sighed.  Close proximity to such an intense man ideally wasn’t the first stop of her day, but it wasn’t like she had any say in that.

Silently Petra finished her breakfast, staring straight ahead at the tent wall as she chewed thoughtfully.  She hadn’t been dragged into the middle of the wilderness in her sleep or kicked out quite yet.  Maybe he had taken pity on her.

When she finished, she held the bowl out to her host.

"Thank you for letting me stay here.  I hope to repay your kindness,” she offered.

The woman huffed and took the bowl, stashing it in a tub of steaming water sitting over the fire.

Petra wandered through dawn-lit camp, relying on memory to get to Loki’s tent.  She passed groups of Frost Giants rallying together with spears, bows, and arrows, seemingly readying for a hunt.  Their brows raised equally in curiosity and furrowed in disdain as she passed.  Stares followed her all the way to the entrance of the king’s tent.  She peaked inside, knowing there was a chance that going in would only hasten her removal from their camp.

Loki sat at a dining table, sipping from a cup in his hand.  He glanced up as she entered and motioned at the empty seat next to him.

Sitting was good.  Sitting seemed like it could lead to something more permanent.

“I’ve thought of a solution to your problems,” he said.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Petra strode to the chair and sat with her hands in her lap.

“Anything.  What needs to happen?”

Loki steepled his fingers against his lips, his mouth quirked into a small, but devious, smile.

“As I mentioned yesterday, we only have three children, a number incongruent with our adult population.”  He gauged her response, quietly watching her.  When it became clear he wanted confirmation that she understood, she nodded.

He continued, “We… haven’t been able to reproduce properly for quite some time now.  It seems something in us has changed biologically, preventing healthy pregnancies.”

Petra watched his solemn face, nibbling her lip.

“We think it has to do with the temperature of the fetus.  Infants have been born warmer and warmer, and it’s possible they’re no longer able to withstand the natural cold of their mother’s womb.”

Listening attentively, she folded her legs beneath her and perched on the chair.   Loki fiddled with the cup between his hands, lifting it to his mouth for another drink.  Metal clanked on wood when he put it down, staring at her warily.

“This might… Here.”

He produced a second cup and poured, then pushed it at her.  Impatient to hear the conditions, she ignored the drink, fidgeting anxiously in her seat.  His eyes mirrored the irritation he felt and he pointed at the cup.

“Drink,” he commanded.

Her icy blue gaze narrowed, not moving from Loki’s face as she picked up the cup and took a draw.  Almost immediately she sputtered and coughed. It’s alcohol content was impossibly high.

“What is this?” she choked, her eyes watering as the liquid burned down her throat.

“Good Jötunn ale.  You may thank me in a minute.  Drink.”

Eying the drink dubiously, she took another tiny sip, wincing at the taste.

“Why am I going to thank you?”

His face was a mixture of emotions.  His eyes were serious.  Grim, even. But his lips were twisted into a small smile that bordered on contemptuous.

“Because my proposition is… unconventional.  For an outsider, at least.”

She leaned in, growing frustrated that he was drawing it out.

Licking his lip, Loki’s mouth opened to speak again, “I want to breed you.”

Brows practically raised to her hairline, Petra let out a sharp laugh, only to interrupt herself by stammering in surprise when his face remained severe.  Loki continued, nonchalantly standing and closing the distance between them, invading her space as he boredly gripped her chin.  After holding her jaw for a moment, he jerked his hand, forcing her to angle her face back and forth as he inspected her.

“You’re seemingly healthy.  Somewhat intelligent.  My people are going to die out if this bout of infertility continues.  Jötunn and elf may be compatible genetically; there’s lore of hybrids.”  He pursed his lips.  “It’s pointless for me to approach other realms with this request.  No one wants to mate with a monster.  You, on the other hand...,” the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, “You have very little choice.”   Releasing her chin, he crossed his arms.  “Breed with us and you can stay.  Refuse and you’ll be gone before nightfall.”

Skin prickling with goosebumps, Petra swallowed hard.  Last night she’d pledged anything to stay, and this definitely fell under the scope of anything. It just wasn’t what she had expected.  Loki had given the impression that she was revolting, not someone he would consider solid breeding stock.

Her own childhood had been bleak.  She was only a half-bred elf; her mother had scandalously lain with a Midgardian man and Petra had been conceived.  She grew up a pariah with a deep sense of emotion incompatible with the wicked lifestyle of Dökkálfar.  Being half human flooded her with more sentiment than her elven counterparts, and though she had agonized to blend in, the Dökkálfar sensed something was wrong with her.  Suspicion arose and when her mother was pressed on the identity of her father, her true heritage had been revealed and her mother murdered.

As a result, having children wasn’t something she’d considered.  She enjoyed them, but hadn’t wanted her own to suffer the same fate she had.  On Svartalfheim, at least.    

Deep in her thoughts, Petra startled when Loki said her name.

“Petra.”

Lost for words, she glanced up at him, brows furrowed in thought.

“I’m leaving in a moment, we’re hunting this morning.  You will remain in my tent and think things over.  I’ll give you until tonight to make a decision.”

When she didn’t speak, he turned and strode to a chest near the end of his bed.  Opening it, he retrieved a pair of worn, fingerless leather gloves and slipped them over his hands.  He also drew out a long dagger and a bow and arrow set before turning his gaze on Petra.

“Now, can you read?” he asked as he sheathed the knife.

Still stunned, she nodded.  He smirked, as if pleased that his little elf was literate.

“There are a few books on the shelf.  Otherwise you’ll have to entertain yourself.”  He sat his hip on the table, his knee touching hers.  “Don’t leave my tent.”

The crisp direction of his voice cleared her mind.

“Why not?”

Loki’s eyes narrowed.  He wasn’t accustomed to questioning.

“Because I can’t guarantee that those who remain in camp won’t cause you harm.   Everyone is curious to see the mysterious elf brought in last night, and some curiosities are more macabre or licentious than others.”

Eyes wide, she shuddered.  “I’ll stay here.”

“Good.”

With one last critical glance at the girl, he selected from a batch of spears leaning against the tent wall and stalked out into the cold.

“I guess that’s goodbye,” she muttered.

When he returned Loki found Petra asleep, curled on his bed.  He watched the slumbering girl for a moment, more curious than he’d like to admit.   She was interesting, yes, but also rather lovely.  For an elf, at least.  Jötunn standards of beauty were very different, her slender build alone made her look weak, which was very unattractive.  But, beneath the mountain of clothes she was buried in, he had a feeling her body would be at least somewhat desirable.  Her face certainly was.  He could easily picture his cock between her deep blue-black lips or her features distorted in pleasure as he pistoned into her.

She’d unbound her long hair and it lay in a tangled mess around her face.  Her white brows were stark against her dark blue-gray skin, which looked softer up close than he would’ve thought.  Almost like human flesh.   Delicate.  Another weakness.

She was rather odd for a Dökkálfr, he supposed, which was an undesired variable for a strange situation.  He really should send her on her way as she’d only be a nuisance, but the idea came to him last night and so he’d propositioned her.

Lazily dragging his dagger from the sheath, he flipped it, catching the handle.  His booted feet clunked against the ground as he took two steps forward, vigilant but intrigued by the sleeping girl.  Just because she hadn’t acted like a true Dökkálfr the night prior didn’t mean she wasn’t toying with him.

The layers of clothing packed on her lower body were thick enough that she only felt a dull pressure when he prodded her leg with the knife.

“Wake up, skapning.”

Her eyes fluttered open as she realized where she was and scrambled to sit up.  Pushing her silver her hair from her face, she sleepily examined the Jötunn king, fresh from the hunt.

Feathers woven into his hair complemented the golden beads that were present yesterday, and the red smeared on his cheek almost matched his eyes.  She was fairly certain it was blood.  Pulling her knees to her chest, she studied him for a moment, then blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Hunting looks like it was successful.”

Loki made a noise of affirmation, peeling off his bloodied gloves and tossing them into the trunk at the foot of the bed.  He abandoned his bow and arrows as well, then rested his hip against the table and ran a finger along his blade.

The corner of his mouth quirked and he shot Petra a glance out of the corner of his eye.  Then, he slowly flattened his hand, palm up.  His fingers contracted and a small crystalline ball materialized, growing in size as he fostered it, forming a hunk of ice.  Casually he began rubbing it in circular strokes along the length of the dagger.

They sat in almost silence, the only noise the repetitive wet slide of ice on metal as he sharpened the knife.  Her eyes flicked around the room, looking for a conversation piece or way to put off answering his earlier request, but she could think of nothing and he was waiting for her to speak.  With a deep breath, she let her lids fall closed.

“I’ll do it.”

His downcast eyes raised.

“You’ll do what?”

Petra stammered, the carmine of her blush contrasting heavily against her dark skin.

“I’ll… Let you do what we talked about earlier.”

He motioned for her to continue, raising his brows as if confused.  She pulled at the hem of her sleeve, avoiding his maroon eyes.

“I-I’ll let you breed me,” she mumbled.

Loki’s face relaxed and a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Good.”

Petra waited for him to elaborate, to give her some kind of directive or information about her new assignment.  Instead, he ignored her and continued sharpening.  She squirmed and slipped off the bed, nervously twining her hands behind her back.

“So… How will it work?”

With a smirk, Loki looked up from his knife.

“You unfamiliar with mating practices?”

The elf’s cheeks and the tips of her pointed ears warmed to dark crimson and she glared.  “I understand the logistics.  I meant how will this progress?  When will I do… it?  And with whom?”

Turning the dagger, he began working on the other side.

“With me,” he said nonchalantly.  He almost seemed disinterested.  “And we start tonight.”

Flustered, Petra struggled for words.  She didn’t expect it to begin so soon.  And with him?  The thought of mating with a Jötunn male was foreign enough, but to do so with their unsettling king who could barely look at her?   Mildly terrifying.

“Y-you?  I thought… Wouldn’t one of the others be better?”  One that she didn’t offend with her mere presence?  She flushed deeper as her mind raced, searching for additional reasons they were an unsuitable pair.  “Wouldn’t it be best to mate with a smaller Jotunn?  For a smaller child?”

Loki considered her size for a moment.  Compared to the giants, she was miniscule, but typical for a Dökkálfr.  He tilted his head, inspecting her hips.  They were wide enough to carry a large child, he supposed.  His child.  He’d rely on nature not to kill mother with baby.  

“No.  I’ll breed you myself.”  When she opened her mouth to argue, he gestured at the tent opening, “Or you can go.”

Petra stubbornly clammed up, her arms crossed in refusal to leave.  Loki put down the knife and ball of ice.  Her breath hitched as he took a step towards her, slowly backing her against the tent wall.  His chilly indigo finger nudged her chin up, forcing her to meet his cold gaze.

“You Dökkálfar are conniving.  Sneaky.  I don’t trust you not to manipulate my men.  Norns know the damage you could do.  Tricking them, turning them against each other, against me with your mere existence as a fertile female.”

Petra hissed in surprise, jerking her chin from his grasp and fighting the urge to gnash her teeth.  She was two heads shorter than he was, frozen and laughably weak in comparison, yet he had the audacity to accuse her of taking advantage of his people.

“I would never do something like that!”

“It doesn’t matter.  I’ll breed you or no one will.”

Scowling, she let the back of her head hit the side of the tent and gazed upwards.  She couldn’t force herself to make eye contact while talking about such an intimate topic, not when he was making such accusations yet still wanted sex.

“Fine.  I’ll do it with you.  Or let you do it to me.  However it’s supposed to work.”

Loki fought to keep warmth from the small smile that appeared on his lips.  As lustful a being and eager to fuck his skapning as he was, he did truly care for the survival of his people and believed he had a chance with the peculiar girl.

“Good.  We’ll begin tonight.”

He reached behind him, presenting a long dress, a pair of thick woolen socks, some crude leather slippers and a cloak from the table.  “Put these on.  They’re warmer than your rags.”

Petra scowled, picking at her holey trousers.  They had been nice when she initially left, but the elements of Jötunheim had torn them apart.  She gratefully took them and shuffled to the far corner of the tent.

“Don’t look,” she snapped over her shoulder as she peeled off her inadequate coat to change.

Loki looked.  She was thinner than he expected, again challenging his idea of beauty, but the swell of a breast was the swell of a breast and hers were large enough.  His eyes wandered down her back to her rear.  Though she could use a few extra meals, her hips were just right for digging his fingers into.  Suddenly the image of his thick blue cock sliding into darker pussy made him hard.  Would her lips be pink?  Or blue-gray?  He was interested in investigating, but at a later time.

She finished changing and folded her old clothes, clutching them to her chest when she turned around.  She was only half surprised to see him staring at her.  She was getting the hang of this tricky Jötunn king.

“You’re very rude,” she said, lifting her chin.

Loki grinned, the first true smile she’d seen from him.

“You have no idea.”

That night, after a dinner delivered by Loki, Petra found herself squirming under the gaze of the giant.  He was blatantly staring at her from the tent entrance, peeling plates of armor and straps of leather from his body and depositing them on the ground.  Her stomach fluttered as he neared her, shirtless, clothed only in a pair of leather trousers.  His red eyes glittered in the low light, fixed intently on her.

The Jötnar didn’t seduce.  It was an unnecessary ritual of exorbitance meant for more refined beings, but he found himself drawn to touching her.   In more ways than just those that resulted in procreation.

He lifted a lock of hair from her shoulder, running his calloused fingers over it and it fell through them.  She shivered, eyes wide as she looked up at him.

“It’s time.  Undress,” he grunted as he unfastened the rest of his armor.

Mouth too dry to swallow properly, she obeyed.  The comforting weight of her cloak disappeared as she shrugged it from her shoulders, letting it fall in a pile at her feet.  She peeled off the clothes he’d given her, which had been warmer than the ones she arrived in, letting them drop to the floor as he had.

When she stopped at her undergarments, appearing shy and small, Loki had to purse his lips to keep his mouth from curling in disgust.

“Have you not done this before?”

“I have,” she snapped, glaring as she reached behind to unfasten the band around her chest.

His shoulders dropped in relief and he let out a breath.  He was not interested in a simpering virgin’s first time.

When her last pieces of her security were gone, he took a moment to admire her body, starting with the tinge of scarlet kissing her ears.  Growing hard, he admired her breasts, there was enough to squeeze and fill his hands.  The width of her hips was slightly greater than he’d expected, which would bode well for both mother and child.  He palmed himself through his pants, his eyes amused as she shivered from cold.  She was such a fragile thing.    

“On the bed,” he pointed.

Arm clutched over her breasts, Petra approached his bed with a shaky breath.  Everything inside her screamed to run, that she didn’t have to do this.  Didn’t have to trade her body.  Maybe she could survive on her own.  But in her gut, she knew this was her only chance at living.   Jötunheim was simply too savage a realm for her to endure alone. Without looking at him she turned and sat on the edge of the mattress.

Loki rolled his eyes.  Non-Jötnar were never proficient at mating positions and she was no exception.

“On your hands and knees.”

The bed dipped under her weight as she crawled on top of it, positioning herself on all fours.  She chanced a glance behind her only to flush as she caught him with his ridged cock in his hand.  If she’d thought him intimidating before, now he was as menacing as his realm.  His girth was just shy of requiring his entire hand to grasp it, and she sincerely doubted she could take his entire length, let alone the added texture.

He gave her a pleased grin.  “Mating with giants has its perks.”

Petra pursed her lips and faced forward, finding a spot on the wall to stare at.

His feet scuffed against the floor as he closed the distance between them. She was far from ready, but didn’t expect a comfortable experience to begin with.  The Jötnar were beasts, he’d be on and off in less than a minute, surely.

When she felt a hot puff against her rear, she twisted to look back at him.  The king was on his knees, staring at her exposed cunt.

“You’re practically steaming, skapning.”

Her lips worked to form some kind of smart retort, but her tongue was heavy in her mouth.  With a deep blush, she turned back around.

A hand roved over her hip, dragging down her arse cheek to the back of her thigh.  It was joined by the other on the opposite side, and he gently pulled her open with a groan.  For some reason, perhaps because she was his exotic little creature, the lilac of her pussy lips made his mouth water.  He longed to suck them into his mouth, an impulse he’d never had with a Jötunn woman.  He shook himself.  Breeding was a very practical activity, one he enjoyed but never relished in, and he didn’t intend to start now.

Licking a cool finger, he eased it inside her.   Immediately her walls clamped down, making him groan at her tightness.   She contorted again, looking back at him with wide eyes.  He ignored her in favor of working his finger in and out of her hot cunt.

Stunned and confused, Petra faced forward once again, too self-conscious to watch him manually defile her.  She let out a gasp when he crooked his finger, her body too stiff to turn this time.  A burning sensation began in her pelvis, the heat warming her from the inside out.  As he continued she panted, pressure beginning to build and she found herself arching back in search of more.  With a smirk she couldn’t see, Loki obliged, using the gathering wetness to thrust his finger harder.  When his rhythm increased, her attempt to hold back a groan resulted in a choked grunt.

Only because Loki couldn’t see her face, Petra allowed herself the freedom to make expressions.  Or, perhaps it happened without her conscious permission.  She wasn’t sure.  Her mouth hung open, brows furrowed in pained pleasure as his fingers rubbed a spot inside her that made her see white.  As he casually stroked, the heat in her pelvis grew unbearable and her inner muscles began to flutter in anticipation.  She teetered on the edge of the precipice, so close to release she could barely stand it.  She’d never come at the hands or cock of another, only from touching herself.  She was quickly learning the allure of another’s touch and she wanted more.

Then he stopped.  The burn remained, but the intensity began to soften.

Dumbfounded, she twisted, teeth bared as she stared at him pleadingly.

“I-Please!”

Loki wiped his fingers on the inside of her thigh and ignored her cry.

"Why did you stop?” she demanded breathlessly.

"Stimulation aids in lubrication, making sex more comfortable.  Additionally, the contractions of your eventual orgasm will pull my seed further into your womb.  It is to my advantage that you come.”

That didn’t come close to explaining why he’d just intentionally denied her pleasure, but Petra was too single-minded to care.  All she wanted was to feel that winding pressure again.  She grunted in confusion and caught the sound of Loki sighing.

“But, until my come is inside you, your orgasm holds no worth,” he explained.  “I’m merely preparing you.”

Had she control over her breathing, Petra would’ve huffed.  Instead, she panted for air, her arms shaking.

After a beat of silence, the tips of his black nails slowly scratched down the backs of her thighs.   As he released a pleased rumble, the frightened girl fought the urge to clench her legs together.  When they threatened to close, barring his entrance, he stopped.

“Do you want to survive the night?”

The only answer she offered was short, shallow breaths.  He slapped her rear, making her jerk and coaxing a whine from between her lips.

“Answer me.  I don’t have time for games.”

“Yes!  Please, yes, let me stay,” she mumbled.

“Then keep yourself spread.  I won’t repeat the command.”

She uttered a soft sob of frustration and hung her head, burying her fingers in the bedclothes as she resituated herself with her legs wide open.

“Good girl.”

Though the praise sounded clinical, the words stoked that fire in her belly.  Positive reinforcement wasn’t something Petra took lightly.  It was something she had ached for at home, but rarely received, even as a child.  It simply wasn’t part of Dökkálfar culture.

Loki’s fingers pet her entrance, idly smoothing moisture over her opening as he continued admiring his prize.  He hummed and she heard the rustle of clothing, indicating he’d stood.   More noise followed, and she jerked when he pressed his bare hips against her rear, his cock prodding her.

He was tall enough that had she merely bent over the side of the bed, he’d have to get on his knees himself.  She had a feeling he would be reluctant to do so.  Instead, the added height of the raised bed lined her rear up with his pelvis.  Wary of his size and strength, she braced herself for his entrance.  A hiss sounded as he began to press into her, making her aware of each and every raised detail on his cock.  He stretched her almost beyond capacity and it stung, causing her to wince away.

Another crack sounded as he spanked her twice.

“Do you know what we do with Jötunn females resistant to mating?”

“No,” she breathed.

“We tether them.  Do you want to be tied down?  To have your baby sired while you’re at my mercy?”

Afraid to use her voice should it quiver, she shook her head.

“Good skapning,” he crooned, sliding his hand over her rear to press on her lower back. The pressure he applied encouraged her to arch, and in fear of being bound, she held still.

With a groan, he seated himself while she bit her lip to keep from whimpering.  He felt as big as he looked and she swore she’d split open at any moment.  To her surprise, he allowed her time to adjust.

He gathered her hair in one hand, running his fingers through the silky strands before wrapping it in his fist.   Holding her hair taut, he began with small thrusts, smirking as a high-pitched groan slipped from between her lips.  She could feel every inch of the ridged designs on his cock rub against her swollen walls, causing her eyes to roll back.  That cursed, beloved warmth returned to her belly and she felt her walls squeeze his length involuntarily, coaxing a groan of his own.  Petra began to relax as his thrusts grew faster.

The first time he nearly pulled out of her, then slammed back in, she collapsed onto her forearms, which forced her back into an arc and opened her slit to him even further.  He grunted in pleasure and his thrusts quickly wound the coil in her pelvis.  With a shocked cry she came, shuddering as he fucked her through her orgasm.  Panting, she let her head drop, her ribs expanding quickly with each desperate intake of air.

“Did you just come?”

“I-Yes?”

“Do not waste a vital part of the mating process like that.  What if you couldn’t come after I finish?  You’ll save your orgasm for after mine.”

She sputtered, trying to turn but he held her hair tightly.

“It’s not like I tried to!”

“Good, then you should be able to put forth the effort to contain yourself.”

With that, he began rutting into her without warning and she buried her face in the sheets as that cursed pressure began rebuilding.  Afraid of his wrath, she wriggled, trying to find a position where his ridged cock didn’t feel as good pummeling her, but couldn’t find one and the heat was building.  Light exploded behind her eyes and she nearly lost her balance as her cunt contracted, squeezing his cock so hard it almost hurt.  Loki’s grip on her hips was all that kept her stable.

There was a beat of silence.

“If you come again before I do, I’ll stop and you’ll sleep outside.”

Petra’s panting stuttered and she managed a nod.  As if she could control what her body was doing.

Loki resumed thrusting, growling and running his hands up along the length of her spine to her upper back.  Long, wickedly strong fingers dug into her skin as he yanked her shoulders back, forcing her to arch painfully.  She cried out as his black nail bit into her flesh, overwhelmed by the mixture of pleasure and pain.

She put every available neuron towards preventing another orgasm.  She thought about home as the coil in her belly tightened, about blood and torture and scathing hate.  He hissed as her walls began to flutter and she cried out, this time actively trying to crawl away from him to prevent her orgasm.

His fingers dug into her sides, anchoring her in place as he lost his rhythm, his hips jerking as he grunted deep in his throat.   His erratic pumping forced another orgasm from Petra and she let out a shriek of frustration, terrified that she’d die alone outside tonight.   They both remained in place, panting heavily as their hearts slowed.

“You’re fortunate I came, skapning, or you’d be sleeping with the wolves.”

Petra managed to exhale on a whimper, her pussy still throbbing.  She tried to crawl out from under him, but he held her tight.

“I’ll stay inside of you until we fall asleep,” he stated, his breath tickling her ear.

She released a yelp of surprise when he wrapped an arm around her middle, lifting her as he crawled forward on the bed.  Mindful of her inferior Dökkálfar blood, he pulled a fur from the floor and wrapped it around the both of them.

Her cunt pulsed as she tried to get comfortable, unintentionally squeezing him.

“Keep that up and there will no longer be a use for this load to impregnate you.  I will provide many more, and easily can tonight.”

She stilled almost immediately.  Delirious from her orgasms and the stress of the day, her lids fluttered shut before she had time to process that she was falling asleep with the Jötnar king’s cock inside her.

thanks to @writeyourmindaway​ for the divider 💖 

[jj-ktae]

Millennials - Part 3 -

Title: Millennials Genre: Fluff, romance Pairing: Kim Yugyeom x You Summary: Life is made of stages and each of them is a hard push on the back, forcing you to forge ahead. You’re facing your biggest crisis, and then there’s him, who lives from day to day. Of course he does, he is just a kid. Words: 4357 Warning: Small age difference. Yugyeom x Noona Reader.

- Part 1 - Part 2 - (Check my masterlist for previous chapters!)

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Part III

You wouldn’t call yourself soft. You’re not moved easily, you find it hard to cry in front of a movie, you have no empathy for people who hurt you, yet you can’t hold Yugyeom’s gaze anymore.

It’s a horrible situation with too much embarrassment. Yugyeom seems to enjoy that situation though, because he brings you food every time he comes and doesn’t let you do anything unless you tell him you want to do it. For the past week, you took care of things every time you saw him. He had a bad limp but assured he could walk and work. He would insist on carrying the heaviest stuff, pretending it doesn’t hurt even when there’s too much pressure on his ankle.

For the past week, you’ve been scolding him because he wasn’t taking care of himself.

But now he seems to be doing okay as it wasn’t something serious, apparently.

You try to act like you don’t care and keep on living your life. You go to work with the same heavy steps and refuse to believe they get lighter with each smile Yugyeom sends your way. It’s difficult to concentrate or deal with customers for Yugyeom is always near, doing his best to be fast and do the most efficient work.

You let him do his thing. You merely smile back – but you still do when he smiles, you accept his food even though you know it’s not a good idea, you don’t question him when you see him stare at you.

It’s only normal that at some point, you find the situation irritating. Naya tells you it’s because he has a crush on you but you refuse to give in. Kim Yugyeom is by no mean someone you can consider a man when he is a kid and as much as you find yourself accepting his kindness, you take it as a friendly gesture toward an older person.

On the other hand, Yugyeom is living his best life. He notices the changes and how gentle you became. He reports everything to Bambam who can only praise him for finally getting some results. He warns him not to have too much hope, though. Yugyeom is way too mushy and naive, and Bambam knows him too well. Yugyeom is capable of confessing just because you accept a cup of instant noodle.

He tells Bambam he doesn’t need to worry, but he doesn’t admit he is being way too confident. It’s not his fault after all. He was never in a situation where you were not scolding or being cold with him. He knows nothing of the calm you and how to deal with it.

He cannot help but feel his heart burst out of his chest when you show any sign of worry concerning his ankle, he feels like dying when you don’t avoid him and sit next to him behind the counter, and wants to yell when you accept his food.

On top of all, he wants to crush you with his broad body when you catch him stare and offer a tiny smile, visibly surprised.

For that reason, he can’t hide his dismay when you ignore him during your whole shift.

It’s sudden. You are hiding between aisles, sorting things and leaving him alone behind the counter. He finds it strange at first and blames it on whatever might have happened for you to be grumpy today.

So he does his best to be a good part-timer in hope you would stop being so cold and maybe even tell him what is wrong. But you don’t. You barely answer him, brush him away when he starts a conversation, and even ignore him when he asks if you want something to eat.

It breaks his heart.

In a way, there is nothing you can do. It makes you incredibly uncomfortable to see his confused face and pitiful state, but maybe it’s for the best. You try to think of all the reasons you’ve been hating him for, trying to convince yourself whenever guilt starts creeping. Yugyeom doesn’t deserve this, but if Naya is right and the boy is actually in love, it is a given that you shouldn’t let yourself fall for his fluffy games, as pleasant as they can.

Pleasant. The mere fact that you associated Yugyeom and pleasant is enough to make you walk faster when you are done with your shift. Yugyeom doesn’t even have the time to send you off for you’re already down the street, your hurried feet beating the ground at full speed.

It stays that way for two weeks. Two weeks of torture for Yugyeom and two weeks of regret for you.

“I told you not to be too hopeful, idiot.” Bambam can only pat him on the back in front of the pool table. The place is crowded tonight and in the middle of all the busy bodies drinking and playing, Yugyeom looks like he had his whole house lit on fire. Jackson and Jinyoung are ordering drinks at the other end of the table.

He shrugs, his cue swinging between his legs. “I know. I thought I finally had this.” He is more confused than angry, because everything feels unexpected. You acting cold and ignoring him suddenly brings him back ten steps behind and he doesn’t like it. He also doesn’t get how you could switch back to evil bitch mode when you were starting to be at least civil with him.

“Don’t look so down, Jinyoung and Jackson will find it weird. We’re here to celebrate, after all!” It’s true. He almost forgot about how he aced all his exams even with a ruined ankle.

But Yugyeom finds the whole situation ridiculous. He suddenly has enough of being played with, on top of hiding his ridiculous feelings to his friends.

Jackson and Jinyoung freeze when they hear him speak. “Would you make fun of me if I tell you that I’m in love with someone?”

Jinyoung shakes his head while Jackson laughs, approaching him. “I knew something was wrong with the kid!” he claps his hands, turning to a perplexed Jinyoung with furrowed brows. “You never believe me.”

Jinyoung scoffs, also approaching the trio. “You look like you just broke up. What’s wrong?”

Bambam rolls his eyes, aiming for his own cue. “Good luck with these two.” He starts playing, ignoring his friend’s glares and smiling to himself.

Yugyeom bets all he has. Maybe he needs advices from older people, after all. He wants to give up, but he can’t let it be until he understands the reason you’re being this way.

“I’m in love with my colleague at the grocery store. She is five years older than me. She hates me, though.” It’s pretty well summed up if you ask Yugyeom, who leans against the table, ready to take every criticism and jokes.

But nothing comes and Jackson even purses his lips, deep in thoughts. “Did you confess?”

Confess. Of course not, he cares about his life.

“Of course he didn’t.” Jinyoung sighs dramatically. “He said she hates him.” He scratches his head, “Maybe she acts like she hates you. She might know you love her. You’re not very subtle.”

“She’s been hating him ever since she first saw him.” Bambam speaks loudly from his spot under the pool table. He appears with a satisfied smile and a ball in his hand. “I’m getting better at this.”

Jackson makes a face. “Confess. You will never know until you try. Girls like this are unpredictable.”

Yugyeom gasps, the thought enough to make him blush. “But, if she rejects me…she is my co-worker…”

“You’re a part-timer. You won’t see her all your life. If you do love her go for it.” Jinyoung adds “Maybe the fact that she is older kind of holds her from accepting you.”

Yugyeom hums, hitting the cue softly to hide his growing nervousness. “I thought you’d tease me to hell.” He chuckles after a while, his chest suddenly light.

His two friends laugh. “We will when you feel better, fool.”

Bambam misses the ball again.

--

Naya doesn’t know when to stop. You seriously start to wonder what’s the point of your friendship when she opens the grocery store’s door, winking at you.

You told her about your plan to avoid Yugyeom, as to which she replied you were damn stupid. You don’t mind being stupid, you don’t even need her validation.

So why the hell is she grinning like a fool, right behind the counter?

You let your book rest on your folded knees, raising a brow at her sudden appearance. “Aren’t we supposed to meet after my shift is over?”

She grunts, her manicured finger shaking way too close to your face, and you can read trouble written all over her face. “I’m seeing a friend in the café across the street. So how is it going with the kid? I’m sure you two could hit it off, so why are you being so stubborn?” she sighs, “The kid’s crazy about you. Just accept he is melting your cold heart already.”

You already told her anything she needs to know, so why the heck is she insisting so much? Even if Yugyeom loves you, it doesn’t mean all the cons suddenly vanished.

“I won’t take advantage of him. We don’t have the same expectations, Naya. I know you want me to get laid or whatever, but I’m not doing this to my co-worker.”

She laughs, grabbing one of the popsicle resting on the counter. “You don’t like your current situation. You’ve been avoiding your parents the same way you’re avoiding this situation. Isn’t it time for you to face things instead of running away?”

Here she comes again, giving life lessons when you don’t need her to tell you what to do. Being friends with Naya is a handle, but acknowledging that she is actually right is worse.

You stand up when a customer enters. “I’ll think about it. Happy?”

She rolls her eyes, aware that you are saying this just so she would go away. “We will talk about this later.” She almost threatens before turning around and aiming for the door.

Yugyeom arrives at the same time, and bows as soon as he recognises Naya. She nods and walks off, and you release a shaky breath when she goes out of sight.

Yugyeom walks past you like you don’t even exist.

--

It’s messy. Everything is a mess in your head. So far, your life has been dull, with too little thrill and too much boredom. You are fine with it and the way you deal with things.

This whole situation puts you in a different mind-set. You’re not one who cares about a potential crush. You have nothing against it but no matter how flattering it could be, you can’t bring yourself to truly believe such a boy would have a crush on you.

And as much as you would like to act differently, which you were doing for the past two week, your old self comes back. It comes back with cold stares and a harsh tone you know too much.

Only this time, you notice Yugyeom’s head, low and irritated.

It doesn’t stop you at all. You speak before you can think, brain heavy and tongue vicious.

Why are you taking so long?

You might be a part-timer, but you still have to do better.

Can’t you see people are waiting here?

He receives everything. He stays his usual self, he bows, doesn’t talk back, even smiles at the customers even though he wants to run away from that hell.

Yugyeom doesn’t get it. He feels like everything came back right into his face. The past weeks, your tiny smiles, you concerning glance, the soft conversation. Everything is over and replaced with your usual bossy behaviour like he is five and can’t walk without tripping.

You see it but you don’t do anything about it.

Which results in Yugyeom running out of the grocery store as soon as he is done.

And you almost get hit by Naya when you tell her about it, that same night.

She crosses her arms over her chest, her food forgotten. “Why? I don’t understand. You don’t care about the kid and it’s fine, but why would you be so mean?” she scoffs, grabbing her fork but waving it in front of you. “You’re a horrible human being.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to accept the fact that maybe, just maybe, you’re being a very mean bitch with Yugyeom. “Why is he always the main topic? Ever since you met him, you can’t stop harassing me with that boy.”

She pauses, her lips pursed. You wait for her reaction, and her smile makes you groan. “I like this boy. He is cute and has a crush on you. He is polite, handsome, can speak well, seems to be awfully shy and looks at you like you’re his world. How on earth can you be so stubborn about it?”

“It’s not that I’m stubborn,” you sigh, finally giving up and leaning against your chair. Your voice get lower and as you shake your head you avoid your friend’s stare, aware that she might be right. “If he even does have feelings for me, I think he shouldn’t-”

“Shouldn’t stay around you because you think you have no future? Because you think no one should deal with your boring and useless person? Come on Y/N, I know you so damn well. Maybe his age does make a difference but deep down, this is what you really think so you would rather be a bitch than actually accept his kindness.”

She is right. Naya knows everything about you, from your first day in elementary school to now, from the moment you decided to stop studying and find a job. She was here when your first boyfriend broke up with you because ‘you were not ambitious’. She knows how little you think of yourself and your habit of pushing everyone away from you.

She is the only person who was more stubborn than you when it came to friendship and refused to let you push her away. She stayed by your side when you couldn’t bear your own decisions and even let you cry your heart out when you felt so lonely it was almost unbearable.

She leans on the table, and her voice gets quiet as she sees your uneasiness. “It’s not even about that kid. It’s about everyone else. Stop pushing people away.”

You suddenly want to cry because there’s no way you can deny it. Naya is right and maybe it’s time for you to at least be social.

“I’ll try. I’ll try to be nice.”

Naya giggles, glad she could put some sense into your head, and as you dig into your plate for much needed food, you have no idea how much your words actually ruined someone else’s night.

If Bambam knew where you lived, he would have come and yelled at you for being responsible of a devastated Yugyeom, sweaty and sulky in his living-room.

“I had to rehearse. I had to fucking dance and I ruined everyone’s time because I couldn’t focus on the choreography. Why am I like this Bam, why am I so hopelessly in love that it takes over my own life? Why am I so dumb?” Yugyeom doesn’t know how to deal with this. He can deal with a lot of things. He isn’t one to be easily annoyed by something – he wouldn’t have such friends if he did anyways – but he can’t see a reason why you would be like this.

Is it that bad to love someone?

Maybe you noticed it. Maybe you want him away because you feel disgusted. That’s must be it, because you were starting to be nice and now you’re not anymore.

“Listen,” Bambam sits next to his friend, his hairless cat purring softly. “You need to stop this. Life won’t stop if you don’t end up dating her. There are other things that should require your full attention.”

Yugyeom seems shocked when he hears this, but his friend stops him before he can object.

“Let me finish. If you want to know where this is going, you should definitely ask her out. Don’t tell her you love her if you don’t want her to freak out, but ask her out at least. Think about somewhere you’d like to take her and ask her simply.” Bambam shrugs like it’s the easiest thing on earth.

Yugyeom shakes his head, already thinking about how cold you have been.

“If she rejects you then, get over it. Go to work like nothing happened and tell her to stop talking to you the way she does. She is not freaking Satan, she won’t do shit.” Bambam concludes, the cat almost scratching his forearm when he stops petting the animal. Yugyeom thinks hard, calculates the probabilities, bites his lips, observes his friend.

He takes a sip of the soda Bambam gave him and sighs loudly.

“Watch me Bam. You’ll see.”

There’s no way he will keep on acting like a frustrated kid.

When he comes back home that day, his mother is the only person still up. He grabs the food she left him and thanks her when he finds her watching television.

He sits and finishes his plate with a smirk. Next time he’ll see you, in two days, he will ask you out.

--

You want to be positive. Every day and no matter how stubborn you can be, you always try to think about at least one positive thing.

So far, you have nothing.

Friends? You have one. You have no social life, no plans except for the times Naya wants you to tag along. There are a few acquaintances, but they barely pay attention to you.

Family? There are nice, but they don’t care about you. Everyone has big dreams for their kids, which means you being out of whatever plans your parents have. You barely receive any call. Your mother would rather tell you she is busy rather than stop by your place.

It’s understandable. They have their own careers. You don’t even have one dream.

Romantic life? Let’s not even think about it.

Money? Enough to live, too little to be generous with yourself.

Health? You caught a cold.

Nothing is positive.

You enter the grocery shop and even your boss looks at you weirdly. Your voice sounds different as your nose is stuffed and the amount of effort you put to look like you are fine go to waste when he laughs.

“You look terrible, Y/N” he confesses yet doesn’t tell you to go back home. He isn’t the type of boss who is caring enough to let you rest when you spend way too much time here.

You nod, taking your jacket off and coming back into the store, waiting for instructions.

“You’re lucky I cleaned everything. Don’t overwork yourself!” He whistles and waves from his spot by the entrance door, before leaving you.

You let your head fall on the counter, sniffing loudly.

Freaking cold.

A lot of people come in, from an old lady to kids who pick every single candy they can. It makes you walk around the shop way too much, leaving too little time for you to blow your nose and breath.

You take their payments and bow, grabbing a tissue as soon as you’re left alone. You blow so hard you even hurt your nostrils, body heavy with what seems to be stiffness.

You rest against the counter when the shop gets calm, almost falling asleep.

“Are you okay?” You jump out of your seat when you open your eyes. Yugyeom looks concerned, his long legs bent to meet your eyes.

“I’m fine.” You answer, already getting up to find something to do.

Naya’s words ring in your head. Don’t be mean.

“Are you sick?” Yugyeom adds when he comes back from the staff room. You are hidden behind the alcohol aisle but he finds you quickly, his steps soft and eyes shining. “I can do it, try to rest?” He is daring today you think, remembering how harsh you were the last time you saw him.

You want to snap at him so he would stop being so nice.

But he smiles sweetly when you don’t answer, which makes you forget whatever you were planning to say.

You agree, making his smile deepen. He grabs the bottle of soju you were holding from your hands and leaves some room for you to walk back to the counter where you instantly lean against the counter, raising your head only when needed.

He doesn’t talk to you and do everything on his own. You feel sorry for him, in a way. He could act like he doesn’t care, but he doesn’t.

You’re not surprised after all. Yugyeom’s whole existence is the definition of softness.

He goes to the vending machine in front of the store and comes back with a tea, hoping you would like it. “Noona, drink this. It’s cold today.”

You hate it. You hate how gentle he is.

Again, you simply nod, accepting the warm drink and thanking him.

Yugyeom blames it on your cold. He doesn’t let his hopes up, quite anxious to ask you out once your shift is over.

He thought about it. A lot.

Movie theatre? Too quiet and awkward. Amusement park? Too childish. Bowling? Noisy.

Drinks. He will take you out and have a drink so you can both chat. He called Jinyoung who gave him the address of a great Italian bistro where you can have a drink and enjoy delicious antipasti. He said it’s not fancy and casual. Jinyoung also teased him before hanging up.


Yugyeom hesitated, but decided to go for it.

He thinks of a way to ask you, no matter how busy it gets and how full his hands are. There are no fresh sodas left, a kid spilled his milk on the floor and he had to clean the mess a guy left behind him when he picked a toothbrush and disrupted the whole display unit.

He tells you to rest and simply take the payments, which reminds you the day you told him to do the same so he would rest his ankle. He doesn’t even groan in annoyance, earning some curious glance from the exhausted you whenever his concentrated face appears before you.

You colleague is thirty minutes late.

You observe the clock, almost whining when you notice time passing by at an agonisingly slow pace. Yugyeom sounds worried, because he also checks the clock.

Maybe you will reject his offer. You might even laugh at him. You’re nice today but you’re sick, so it doesn’t mean a thing. You will most certainly snap at him as soon as you’ll feel better.

He almost renounces when the colleague appears, apologetic.


You brush the woman away, telling her there is nothing specific to do because the part-timer did everything. Yugyeom bows as soon as he sees the woman, noticing how quickly you are already putting your jacket on.

“Have a nice evening!” His voice is too shaky for his own good, but he doesn’t have the time to panic as you are already leaving, a tired hand waving at your colleague who is already too busy using her phone to notice how Yugyeom is losing his mind.

You get hit by the cold wind and you curse yourself for forgetting something as precious as a scarf when you are already getting sick.

“Noona!” You hear Yugyeom’s voice, higher than usual. Your steps slow down and your body turns around just in time to notice him running toward you.

You wait for him to speak, but he his restless, leg tapping the ground and mouth opening without any sound coming out of it. He takes a deep breath and straightens his back.

You can do it.

“I was wondering…I mean, you don’t have to accept or anything! There is this place that has great food and drinks. I don’t know if you like Italian food but…” He stops, the corner of his mouth trembling. “I mean, I wanted to know if you’d like to…go...”

He finishes his sentence in a whisper, biting his lip and looking down at your pensive state.

Did he just ask you out? Why?

Your mind is blank. Your brain cells stopped working, putting you in a state of silence and it makes Yugyeom panic even more.

He starts rambling for no reason, knowing fully well that he will regret talking so much. “I know you don’t really like me, but I wish you would agree so we can…get to know each other.” He is ready to run away any minute.

He knew it, you are going to destroy him and he will have to quit and oh my god Jackson and Jinyoung will laugh at his sorry ass while Bambam introduces him to some weird girls who wear too much shiny clothes-

“Okay.”

He tilts his head, ready to tell you that it’s okay if you don’t want to, but he almost doesn’t recognise the words.


You see it, the way he stopped functioning. “When would you like to go?” you add, not trusting your own voice. This is weirdly new to you.

“Ah, that’s…” he didn’t plan the full thing as he obviously thought he wouldn’t have to actually set a night for that improbable date. “Next week-end? Give me your phone number so we can let each other know?” He even asked for your phone number. Amazing.

You don’t care anymore. You need to rest and his eyes are too bright for you to refuse anything. Kim Yugyeom wants a date, so you’ll give him that date. Damn Naya for always being right.

You take your phone. He almost gasps.

When you part ways, you can’t hide your own blush, also blaming it on a possible fever.

Yugyeom thinks he is about to faint.

--