#he's in the men's bath he very clearly made it a point to go to the men's bath after being invited by nami

[potatomountain]

CIY- 14

Chapter Fourteen

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍au: detective/mafia

📍word count: 3k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: rated 18+, smut, fingering, fantasized scenarios

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @yessa-vie and edited by the amazing: @daemour

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“So are you going to tell me what’s up?” San asked from the other side of the punching bag, holding it still for you. You had very much taken out your aggression on the inanimate object, repeatedly, for the last fifteen or twenty minutes or so.

One glance past the receiver of your fists and you could see San’s concern written all over his features. You hesitated your next punch, lacking impact and hitting it with poor form. Hissing you stepped back, cradling your hand to your chest as pain surged from your knuckles. San was before you in seconds, pulling your hand away and examining it closely.

Your frustration had not gone down at all, it just jumped to another fixation. Sure you were no longer thinking about the sounds Mingi had been making- or the fact Yunho was the one pulling them out of him- but instead just how good San looked before you.

The two of you had stopped by your apartment to grab some workout clothes, and some travel sized bath products so you could use the showers here at the gym if need be, and both had changed in the locker room. The tight muscle tank and gray sweats were a sight to behold and definitely had an effect on you.

An effect that you took out on the punching bag of course.

The fact he did have you struggling to focus kept you from outright admitting it to begin with. You could hear what Hyunjin would say about this situation, in filthy detail too. The others were still… well you didn’t trust them enough anymore with any intimate talk, not like you trusted them enough in the first place to come out and say you wanted multiple men to fuck you. And that was when you just had feelings for two. Unable to decide which dick you wanted out of more men than that was… well not a problem you could share.

You could however beat a sandbag to a pulp. “Can you just let me get the stress out please?”

San pouted, but held the bag still as you started working through the routine you had in your head. “What has you so stressed out? Come one Sweetcheeks, you can tell me about it can’t you?” He still wasn’t dropping the subject though.

With a heavy sigh, you rolled your shoulders back, feeling a bit of sweat accumulating on your shirt already. “A lot, San. I’m not exactly past my old unit, and it’s hard to find someone to trust with personal matters.”

“And I’m not one of them?” It was less of a question and more of a dejected statement. 

You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, staring him down hesitantly. He had been by your side and doing his best to make this unit welcoming to you. He hadn’t once made you feel unwanted, or unneeded, despite that moment when you first met that you were sure he was going to be closed off to you. Did you dare trust him? Open up to him about something you know some of the others might use against you in the unit?

With a huff, you ran your hand through your hair. “It’s just… you’re one of the reasons San.”

“What do you mean? I thought you liked me?” He stumbled back when you started swinging at the bag again.

“That’s the fucking point San. I like you. I’m comfortable around you and you are one really hot fuckable co-worker while I’m so damned deprived your stupid gray sweats have my underwear wet!” You accentuated every few words with a hard hit, harder and harder than the one before, ending with a roundhouse that had San stumbling back onto his ass.

He stared up at you, clearly shocked and muttering out your name. 

Realizing just how much you probably just fucked up, you cursed and turned on your heel. “I’m going to take some steam off on a run.” You grumbled, definitely not ready to delve into the bomb you just dropped.

San must have realized it, letting you wander off to the treadmill as he just sat there staring after you. His eyes on you didn’t help at all, putting on some music on your phone and letting it fill up the small gym as if it could somehow drown out the sexual tension.

He didn’t bring it up again, but was eerily quiet. Even once you calmed down from running on the treadmill for a while, he spotted you on several different machines, checking your form and taking note of how much weight you could comfortably lift. You swore you caught him staring at you with a heat in his eyes a few times, body reacting and all that time working the steam off for naught.

Ready to call it a day and hope to whatever God there was that your toys would be enough to satisfy you, you began to head to the locker room.

Just for him to catch up and grab your arm. “Wait, one more thing.”

“Yes?” You swore you did a set on every machine they had available so what could it be?

He pointed to the boxing ring in the center. “Spar with me?”

You were sweaty and worked up and most certainly didn’t think it was a good idea. Yet you found yourself following him to the ring, wiping some sweat off your forehead with the back of your forearm.

He gave you a minute to catch your breath and drink some water, stretching despite already working out for easily over an hour, almost two. “I believe you mentioned taking taekwondo before?”

“Yeah, I stopped in highschool but I occasionally take a class to freshen up on it. Took a few other martial art classes through college that definitely helped me in my days as a uniform.” Talking school and career was a safe topic, stepping more into the ring  as he did. “Ready when you are.”

He hummed, circling you and watching you with a predator’s gaze by the time he was back in your eyesight. “I bet you were top of your class. Probably didn’t settle for less at all huh?”

You could remember quite a few other students that complained about how driven you were, how they disliked sparring against you because even if it looked like they won you were far too persistent and always turned the tables when they least expected it. “My dad also gave me lessons growing up. He was a cop too, and would always say he saw too much of what the world could do to a woman alone and wanted me to be able to protect myself.”

“Sounds like a good dad.” He didn’t give you a chance to reply, beginning the spare after that.

Quickly you realized he was stronger than you, and quite quick, but you held your own. More focused on parrying his hits then going on the offensive.

Fuck he was hard.

The constant workout beforehand did put you at a disadvantage, making you weak to his grip when he did grab you. What was truly only a minute or so felt longer now that your ass was pressed back against him while he had you in a chokehold. You tried your usual tactics to get out, finally having to tap out and call the match.

“One for me.” His voice was huskier as he rolled his neck and shoulders, your eyes naturally following the movements as his muscles rippled from the action. “Two out of three?”

“S-Sure.” You weren’t thinking much about actually winning now, something much more predatory about your sparring partner than you had ever discerned in him before. How could you forget that he was also an undercover fighter for the illegal fight rings that the Green Vipers ran? And that he regularly won.

You could hold your own in a fight, but you knew your limitations. If San had actually been a threat, your game plan would be to cripple and run as he was not an opponent you could win against. But this wasn’t about winning, this was about testing how well you can do in a fight.

His tactics had changed this round, seemed more intent on cornering you and trapping you than attacking to cripple or fight. Your smaller stature was useful to avoid a grab here or when he had you physically backed into the corner of the ring, but every time he did grab you, you struggled.

Blinded with a need to escape, you danced around the ring until he had you on the ground face first, sitting on the back of your thighs and arms held behind your back. When he leaned over, you felt something hard against the curve of your ass.

“Sannie- '' You panted out, turning your head to look back at him, but he was staring down at your ass. You couldn’t see it, but you guess he could easily see the way he pressed into the soft flesh of your yoga pants.

With his free hand, rough and calloused, he ran it down your side to your cheeks, giving a soft and slow squeeze, his breath noticeably hitching. Especially when you lifted your ass to not only press back against him, but moved so his bulge rubbed your core, pants slick with your sweat and arousal. His grip tightened on your arms and ass, pulling a needy whine out of you. How easily he could just pull your pants down and fuck you.

You wanted it, but couldn’t bring yourself to jump that final hurdle of asking. “Sannie please don’t tease me-” A warning, hoping he would back off, or go through with it himself.

The low groan of your name that left his lips had you believing the latter, especially as he kneaded your ass more, hips bucking against the wet patch. Even with the clothes in the way, it was enough friction to pull another breathless whine out of you and push back.

“All the times you had me pinned down like this, I thought of it like this.” He muttered to himself, and if it wasn’t the harsh thrust he gave that sent tingles up your spine you might question him.

It didn’t matter, you were finally getting touched… which made you far too desperate for more. “M-more please, Sannie- God I want your cock.”

“Fuck don’t say that, it’s hard enough to hold back.” He growled out, still grinding his clothed cock against you however. “This is not the place I want to have you on my cock. Want to take my time with you. But you’re so fucking sexy being needy like this. You want to get off that badly?”

“Y-yes please!” As soon as the plea was out of your lips your pants were shoved down, exposing your bare ass to him. He released your arms, just to pull your ass up into the air as he leaned back. You braced yourself on the bouncing floor of the ring, glancing over your shoulder to watch him pull your cheeks, and lips, apart and admire you in full view. 

Good thing you brought extra clothes. “A-alright.” Slowly you got up and headed for the showers, still reeling a bit from the way he had you coming three times from his fingers. It had been several minutes, and as soon as he had found your sweet spots he used them to drive you crazy.

You were about to whine and beg again when his thumb found your clit, a jolt running up your spin. Slow tantalizing circles as he pushed in a finger, similar pace. You were sure if it was the same hand, you didn’t care, it felt so good but still not enough. Your head fell forward, bracing against the ring and shutting your eyes. “Don’t toy with me Choi San. Either get me off or let me go home to do it myself.”

With a breathless laugh he hoisted you up onto your knees, an arm wrapped around your shoulders to hold you back against him as he grabbed your pussy from the front, two fingers roughly shoved in and thumb back to its ministrations. “Poor baby needs to get off so badly? How badly hm?” He muttered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe as his fingers curled deep in you, making it hard to fully process what he said.

“B-badly please… please Sannie. Do you want me to beg? I will. Just don’t- ah- don’t stop. R-right there oh fu-uck.’ Your head fell back against his shoulder as he found your sweet spot, relentlessly rubbing his tips against the spongey spot while his thumb rubbed just right over your clit. He felt better than your hands, and it was so accurate, more than a toy, you were a moaning mess without an ounce of shame.

It was just you two there, and even if he did decide to impale you on his dick, you wouldn’t care. Hell you didn’t think you would care if one of the others walked in. What kind of face would Mingi make if he saw just how easily you could be putty for him if he played nice?

The thought had your hips jerking, picturing the tall man on his knees before you, watching the way San fucked you and begging for a taste. You must be quite deranged to think about both of them touching and fucking you at once just from San’s fingers inside.

But it had you coming into his hand and crying out his name, your nails digging into his forearm around your chest. You expected him to stop, but only his thumb did as his fingers continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

“That’s it Baby, I’ll make you feel so good.” He pushed in a third finger, moving slowly as you came down from your high before the pace started up again, even more relentless than before, especially since he knew your sweet spots now. Thumb back on your sensitive bud as he was grinding against your ass as well.

What if you were filled in both holes? Maybe someone’s cock in your mouth as you were used for their pleasure but not as much as they wanted to give you. You let the deranged, completely filthy scenarios fill your head, to the point you moaned out someone else’s name.

San wasn’t even surprised, chuckling against your ear and working you through yet another orgasm while Mingi’s name tumbled from your lips. “I knew you wanted him. Bet you want a few of them, hm? You know- you could ask them too.” He was breathless, panting against your neck as his own hips were erratic behind you. “Wouldn’t mind one, or even all, watching you come undone for me.”

The idea of them all watching as you bounced on San’s cock filled your mind, helping him roll one orgasm into the next. You made a mess of his hand and your yoga pants, even the ring beneath you, your cry echoing in the small private gym, mixed with a soft cry of San’s own.

You could vaguely feel his cock twitching against your ass, a sticky wet spot that was indistinguishable even among all your own sweat. Just from humping against the curve of your ass he came, or did your own pleasure and filthy thoughts add to it?

He pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his lips and groaning at the taste while he loosened his hold on you. “You should probably get a shower, sweetcheeks, we can talk about this after.” He gently rubbed your back as he leaned back, reaching for your pants and pulling them up for the moment.

While you were in the shower you had plenty of time to think over the implications of what just happened, of the things he said and what you thought. You were disrupted from your thoughts as San called out your name.

“Wooyoung needs me asap so I’m leaving you your key in your locker and heading out. We’ll talk about this later, I promise.” His voice echoed in the room, but he called out again when you didn’t reply.

“O-Okay San. I’ll see you later.”

You heard him actually leave and let your shoulders drop. No reason at all to feel dejected over this, you got exactly what you wanted.

Maybe you just had too many other questions now.

—-----------

San had just finished cleaning up when he got the call, frowning since it was Captain’s other cell. “Choi speaking.” He answered, tossing the dirty rag into the hamper before throwing on clean clothes. One glance towards the showers and he knew you were still in there.

“They reacted to the bait. Wooyoung needs you on sight for backup asap.” Hongjoong answered, causing San to sigh. He didn’t want to leave you, not when he had gotten to finally touch you after so long.

But he did leave, knowing this was even more important. Couldn’t blow his cover after all.

Still he thought of you, of how sweet your moans sounded and how your pussy clenched around his fingers. He couldn’t help but smirk, knowing he could rub it in Wooyoung’s face, or even Mingi’s. San knew them all well enough to know he wasn’t the only one who was being wrapped around your finger. He heard the two in the bathroom earlier, knew they thought of you just as you apparently thought of them.

You were perfect for them, San was even more sure of it now more than ever. The way you blossomed over the years, and some parts of you were still the same if not more set in stone.

He wanted to tell you, remind you of who he was but he couldn’t. Not without so many questions being asked of him he wasn’t ready to answer.

Some day though he would, when you were his… no when you were theirs.

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[sleeper-kerennnnnnx]

MASHLE author‘s Q&A from fan book translate！（2）

If there are some poor translations or errors, please point them out! I will correct them in time, thank you!

I will translate this in four parts!

Here are parts Q34-Q67! The original text and other parts can be found in the collection!

To the animation fans: There are slight references to the subsequent plot of the comics‼ ️ (Q34 and Q37) If you don’t want to be too comical, you can avoid it.

Q34: When Epidem met Dot, he said that the Ira Kreuz were very rare. What is the position of the Ira Kreuz people in the magic world? Are they regarded as a dangerous people? What does the cross scar on their head warn them about?

A34: They are probably regarded as very powerful people. The cross scar is a warning to their fighting instincts.

Q35: What kind of people are Lance and Dot’s roommates？

A35: Dot and Lance later lived in the same dormitory! Because both of them were very noisy, they were complained by their roommates!

Q36: Does Easton have a school song? Who sings the best among Lance, Dot, Lemon, Finn, and Mash?

A36: Yes! I think it should be Finn or Dot!

Q37: Who proposed riding horses in the God divisionary Exam?

A37: Dot! When men get together, the first thing we should do is ride horses!

Q38: Is Ryane's rabbit handkerchief sold to the public? I want to know if it is bought or homemade.

A38: Homemade! He can do needlework!

Q39: Is the little spider (the spider that tested Mash's magic during the battle, sorry I forgot his name! Kneel down 🧎) Ryane's servant? Or does Ryan call it when he needs help?

A39: He calls it when he needs it! It's always there!

Q40: Rayne Ames has the strength of a mid-to-high-level God divisionary, but I haven't seen him use the highest-level magic in the work - thirds magic (note: there is in the comics). Does the firepower he have means he has the ability to use thirds magic?

A40: Even among God-divisionary, there are not many people who can use thirds magic. Probably Light, Undying, Sand, and then Flame cane and Rayne. (The latter reply should be the battle power ranking. Flame cane's official website introduction clearly states that he is a double liner magician.)

Q41: Rayne is the director of the Magic Tools Administration Bureau. Was the rabbit phone designed and made by Ryane?

A41: It was specially made!

Q42: Abel said that only Rayne can resist Abyss's Demon Eye. I want to know how Ryan did it!

A42: The Demon Eye cannot last forever. I think this is the point!

Q43: What does a perfect do? Are there any privileges and benefits to being a perfect? Doesn't Rayne feel tired when he has to balance the work and study?

A43: Perfects are mainly responsible for managing students' attitudes towards life, etc.! Perfects have special baths! They are as tired and hard as entrepreneurs!

Q44: Who named the "Magia Lupus Arc"? Lord Abel? Is the ranking is selected by the number of coins collected？Does Abel choose the people who join? Or did they volunteer?

A44: Abel named it! He is actually a sensitive high school student, very cute. They are just ordinary Boy Scouts!!

Q45: Did the Magia Lupus Arc and Mash get together after the war?

A45: They got together to play poker! The endings in Mashle's world are basically good!

Q46: Please tell me the order of academic performance among the Magia Lupus Arc.

A46: The best student is Wirth! Then it should be Abel and Abyss.

Q47: Are the poker cards in Abel's personal property?

A47: Yes! Abel has a lot of poker cards!

Q48: Why does Abel cherish the broken doll in his arms and call it "Mom"?

A48: Because it overlaps with the scene that his mother passed away.

(I'm already in tears after seeing the above line. let me cry for a while)

(I'm done crying, let me continue translating!)

Q49: Abel's third line is artificial. Will he still have three lines in the future? Will he never go back to two lines?

A49: Because it was forcibly added, it's different from the normal three lines, and it won't go back to two lines!

Q50: It is said that Abyss's sword has a magic wand built into it. Will he use an extra magic wand during class?

A50: He will use an ordinary magic wand during class! But the output power is relatively small! (Sorry, but I imagined Abyss holding a sword and waving it around in class haha ​​... 

Q51：Abyss is not good at talking to girls，how he talks to love cute？

A51：He Can't！！！！He watches the ceiling while talking to her.

Q52: Do you know why Abyss wears his hair in a bun or ponytail?

A52: A unique hairstyle may mean that he wants to be recognized... He may cut it short later!

Q53: Will love cute say things like "like or hate" or "am I cute" to other members of the Magia Lupus other than herself?

A53: All boys will be asked.

Q54: Why was Ryane so angry at Milo (the green-haired one of the Fourth Fang) in the ? Is it okay to kick him like that?

A54: Ryane is a bit extreme... Generally speaking, this is not a good job (crying)

Q55: What did Ansel Sinli (the Seventh Demon Fang, the one carrying two round plates) say in the last episode?

A55: "In my opinion, cream puffs are likely to contain cream."

Q56: Does Oror (the magic policeman) appear naked every time he casts a spell?

A56: It's pitiful, but that's how it is. (crying)

Q57: What kind of people are Ryoh's wife and son? If there is any story, please tell me!

A57: The wife is the kind of person who is broad-minded and said "Okay, okay" and then started dating (crying). The child admires his father!

Q58: Are the Ryho peripherals in the work certified by the author? Or are they made by fans?

A58: Certified by the author! ! ! ! ! (Please link it)

Q59: I want to join the Ryoh‘s fan club. Can I become member No. 0001?

A59: I admit it!

Q60: Why doesn't the robe on Orter's shoulders fall off?

A60: It's fixed by magic!

Q61: Why is Orter so short-sighted that his eyes have become "3"?

A61: He read too many books!

Q62: Can Orter’s sand magic turn himself into sand?

A62: It seems that he can't do that! But if you really work hard, you might be able to do it! (translator: It was done in the anime)

Q63: I want to know how Orter and Wirth address each other! What is their relationship like?

A63: They probably address each other with "お前" and "テメェ" (similar to "you bad guy" and "Hey")... They don't have a very good relationship! But it will get better one day!!!

Q64: Wirth said, "I have received elite education in magic since I was a child." Did Mr. Orter do the same thing?

A64: That's right!

Q65: I want to know why Kaldo wears gloves!

A65: Because it is so cool and making him handsome! ! ! ! !

Q66: What is the opportunity for Kaldo to like sweets? In addition, he has a strong impression of honey. Does he like sweets more than honey?

A66: He likes it after spreading honey on toast! He likes everything when it comes to sweets! My tongue is dying!

Q67: Which is better, Kaldo's honey salmon or Lemon's handmade cookies?

A67: Handmade cookies I guess? They are as bad for your health as the Ganges!

Q68: What is the name of Agito Tyrone's (Dragon Cone) pet dragon?

A68: Hipotan!

If you like, Can I please ask for a like🥹

Comments are welcome to discuss anything! And suggestions for translation!

Chinese version updated in：longyou1225.lofter.com

[leahsflwer]

An Angsty/comfort Lindir Imagine.... is that something you could do for me?☺🤗🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏🙏

I'll love you forever and ever!!!!!!!!!!

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💜

I can give it a good go 😝

Lindir imagine - “Purple dress” Fluff content

Warnings: Slight angst, feeling tired, fluff mostly, very mild! Sexual references, but it is mostly a chaotic imagine on sweet Lindir <3

Lindir (LOTR/Hobbit) x fem! reader

I wandered through Rivendell smiling at the stunning setting surrounding me. I felt at ease and peaceful until I heard whispers from a few of the elves around me. For me, I was only a Human-Dwarf girl. Which brought upon a few harsh comments from the elves who giggled and pointed at me. It put me in a terrible mood within seconds as I hurried past them and rushing around a corner and into something.

It was a chest. The chest of Aragorn the strider. He was a handsome man but I was not in the mood for him to look down at me currently, so tried to walk around him but he grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me back, so his face was inches from mine. All I could do was gulp and shake my head.

“Aragorn please not now,” I sighed

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.. come on..” he chuckled and moved hair from my face

“Please,” I begged him wanting to run off

“Oh come on let me talk-“ he started.

He was cut off before he could even finish as I felt a large, long arm wrap around my waist and pull me against them. Feeling a tall man’s body pressed to my back.

My stomach filled with butterflies as I slowly turned my head to see who it was. It was Lindir. Who was glaring at Aragorn, then looking down at me with a soft stare. His smile fading as he looked back at Aragorn.

“She needs time to relax first Aragorn. She is clearly upset and exhausted. You know Rivendell and she does not, so just let her go by at her own pace.” He spoke up and gently guided me away.

We walked side by side up many stairs, left, right around many corners which easily lost me but I had no care as I felt his hand on my lower back as he showed me around to the room I was going to stay in while here in Rivendell. He smiled at me before walking inside with me. He wandered over to the balcony and let out a deep breath.

“You know. You’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.” He chuckled making me blush.

I couldn’t even move from my spot beside the bed in the centre of the room against the back wall. He was way too perfect to be complementing me so I felt speechless.

He glanced at me and showed a more cheeky smile compared to his usual mature facial expression. He clearly noticed how flustered I was by his words making me heat up and feel blush creep on my cheeks.

“Thank you for before. I do feel quite exhausted from the long trip here. I have barely any time to myself being surrounded by men all day long” I sighed

“You don’t need to thank me. I seen how uncomfortable you felt and had to help.” He nodded.

I watched him as he walked over to the chair in the corner of the room and grabbed a beautiful, purple dress, similar colour to his own robe. He motioned for me to follow him.

We wandered passed a few rooms and into a long corridor, into a room with a large bath. It was filled with warm water and bubbles that smelt magnificent.

“I had this made for you. It can help with your tense muscles” he smiled and placed the dress down on another chair in the room

“Lindir this is so much, I couldn’t possibly bathe in that, you have done so much already” I sighed and shook my head

“I insist. I made the bath for you princess. So please enjoy it” he chuckled moving some of my hair from my face.

He walked past me and closed the two large doors, leaving me alone with the gorgeous smell of those bubbles. I couldn’t decline such an offer, who knows when I’ll be able to clean myself like this again.

My skin felt brilliant as it hit the hot water, my tense muscles relaxing as I laid inside the large tub, letting out a soft moan from enjoyment, not wanting to move. But I washed my entire body, feeling perfectly clean and at ease.

Drying myself off and holding up the dress wandering how much it cost him. Feeling bad for him even thinking about me.

It fit my body figure perfectly and made me smile. I smelt amazing and looked stunning. Quickly opening the doors and rushing around to find Lindir who was speaking with Lord Elrond about things.

Elrond noticed me first and smiled, but I wasn’t interested in him at the current moment and hugged Lindir.

“Thank you. For everything” I smiled and then realised what I was doing, hugging him in front of Lord Elrond himself, shyly standing back

“Lindir picked the dress out himself, I’m glad you like it” Elrond grinned and then wandered off to speak with Gandalf.

Lindir seemed to watch as Elrond disappeared and then looked down at me, a smile appearing on his face once again. His eyes clearly gazed up and down my body.

“It suits you and brings out your eyes.” He chuckled making me flustered again.

I gently hit his arm and then gazed at his pink lips, gulping as ideas flooded my mind. His eyes still locked on me. Aragorn coming into my sight once more making me clench my fists, he punched Lindir in a playful way and smirked at me.

“You look good” he snarled

“Oh.. thank you” I shyly smiled

“I put it on her” Lindir spat out with a smirk as Aragorn turned to him with shocked expression

“Y-You.. well then! That explains why you stole her from my conversation before. I’ll let you two be” he raised his arms in a funny motion and wandered off.

I was overheated from embarrassment and glared at him as I crossed my arms. He just smiled and took my hand taking me on a walk down to the water fountain.

“I only wanted him to let you be, so you can think to yourself. Sorry if it came off wrong” he apologised

“No. It’s quite alright. I wouldn’t have mind if you really did put it on me.” I chuckled with a small grin.

He looked at me with a smirk, raising his brow and nodding, leaning down and touching the water. Splashing some towards me making me shake my head and gasp at how cold it was on my body.

“Lindir! I just cleaned myself and changed!” I laughed

“Good. You can change again with my help” he laughed in return and splashed me again.

I put my feet in the water and splashed him back with a huge wave of water. Until we were both completely soaked and in a mess, just giggling and looking at the other elves walking by with judging manners.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince book 1 highlights & annotations

chapter 7

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Seeing no reason whatsoever to cooperate with that order, Damen stood up.

very much a “damen is not a slave” moment. this is the opposite of what they’ve been trained to do.

‘You are really courting danger tonight,’ Laurent said. ‘Am I? I thought I was appealing to your better nature. Order whatever punishment you like, from the coward’s distance of a chain-length. You and Govart are two of a kind.’

yessss, question his integrity! i love that they both get really pissed off when they’re implied to be bad people, but only by each other. it’s like they’ve mutually identified each other as their own personal moral arbiters, and couldn’t stop caring even if they tried.

Laurent transferred his gaze back to Damen and said, pleasantly, ‘Does that bother you? I recall you being free with your own hands, not so very long ago.’ ‘That was—’ Damen flushed. He wanted to deny that he’d done anything of the kind, but he remembered rather unequivocally that he had.

called out for enjoying the bath scene a little too much

‘I promise you, Govart did a great deal more than simply enjoy the view.’

vine boom so you WERE enjoying the view

‘To a slave,’ Laurent said. ‘The Prince’s Guard doesn’t interfere with the Regency. Govart can stick his cock into anything of my uncle’s he likes.’ Damen made a sound of disgust. ‘With your blessing?’ ‘Why not?’ said Laurent. His voice was honeyed. ‘He certainly had my blessing to fuck you, but it turned out he’d rather take a blow to the head. Disappointing, but I can’t fault his taste. Then again, maybe if you’d spread in the ring, Govart wouldn’t have been so hot to get inside your friend.’

context of what laurent is implying here (not what’s actually true): this is not laurent’s command or responsibility, but the regent’s. and it’s somehow damen’s fault that this happened to erasmus, because he didn’t let govart take him instead, which is what laurent had intended to happen. massive laurent ethical L on both counts. do better.

Damen said, ‘This isn’t a scheme of your uncle’s. I don’t take orders from men like Govart. You’re wrong.’ ‘Wrong,’ said Laurent. ‘How lucky I am to have servants to point out my shortcomings. What makes you think I will tolerate any of this, even if I believed what you are saying to be true?’ ‘Because you can end this conversation any time you like.’

damen won this interaction! called out laurent for clearly giving a shit, because he’s still talking!

also, craft note: great back-and-forth throughout this entire exchange

With so much at stake, Damen was sick of certain kinds of exchanges; the kind Laurent favoured, and enjoyed, and was good at. Wordplay for its own sake; words that built traps. None of it meant anything.

i have several hundred annotations that suggest otherwise

‘When someone doesn’t like you very much, it isn’t a good idea to let them know that you care about something,’ said Laurent.

context: nicaise :( and horse :( and a lot of things :(

break the cycle of abuse laurent i know you can do it

‘Would it hurt worse than a lashing for me to cut down someone you care for?’ said Laurent.

context: laurent knows, from experience, that the answer is yes

‘I don’t think I need to bring in more men,’ said Laurent. ‘I think all I have to do is tell you to kneel, and you’ll do it. Without me lifting a finger to help anyone.’ ‘You’re right,’ said Damen. ‘I can end this any time I like?’ said Laurent. ‘I haven’t even begun.’

damen won the confrontation morally, and they both know it. laurent won in practice by being intentionally immoral, and instead reminding damen that he has been given power over him that he can abuse. this is exactly what the regent has done to laurent, over and over again. sad.

Laurent said, ‘There is no bargain between us. A prince does not make deals with slaves and insects. Your promises are worth less to me than dirt. Do you understand me?’ ‘Perfectly,’ said Damen.

translation: “you win.” “i know.”

Damen rethought that particular approach. He turned over the information he’d just been given. Re-examined it. Turned it over again. ‘What changed your mind?’ Damen said, carefully.

context: maybe i’m too optimistic, but i think it’s genuinely an ethical decision on laurent’s part. there’s a strategic purpose in here, too, but that’s more of a convenience. laurent knew he was wrong, and might have even connected himself to his uncle and disliked the similarity. he doesn’t act smug when he’s doing something he doesn’t want to do, but he knows he should do this. that’s why he’s pissed at damen, but not playful about it at all. so i do think this was ultimately a “laurent was called on his bullshit, and has too much integrity not to act based on that callout” thing.

‘I’m not sure that I believe anything that you’ve just told me,’ Damen said. ‘Do you have a choice?’ ‘No.’

silver lining for laurent: re-asserts his own power and moral high ground by helping damen, instead of threatening him in a way they both know is fucked up

He has experienced things many adults have not, and his mind is no longer that of a child.

laurent would know :(

‘Is there anyone at this court who isn’t my enemy?’ ‘Not if I can help it,’ Laurent said.

okay this is just him being mean. it’s his enrichment 

‘So he’s tame,’ said Estienne, and reached out tentatively, as though to pat a wild animal. It was a question of which part of the animal he was patting. Damen knocked his hand away. Estienne gave a yelp and snatched his hand back, nursing it against his chest. ‘Not that tame,’ said Laurent. He didn’t reprimand Damen. He didn’t seem particularly displeased with barbaric behaviour, as long as it was directed outward. Like a man who enjoys owning an animal who will rake others with its claws but eat peacefully from his own hand, he was giving his pet a great deal of license.

they’re insane

As a result, courtiers kept one eye on Damen, giving him a wide berth. Laurent used that to his advantage, using the propensity of courtiers to fall back in reaction to Damen’s presence as a means of extricating himself smoothly from conversation. The third time this happened Damen said, ‘Shall I make a face at the ones you don’t like, or is it enough to just look like a barbarian?’ ‘Shut up,’ said Laurent, calmly.

emotional collapse animal to keep people from annoying laurent. love the banter here. damen knows that’s exactly what’s happening, and laurent is annoyed that he knows, because it makes him seem like an antisocial loser, which he is

Torveld was a handsome man in his forties

ew. leave laurent alone. he’s like half your age and he has specific trauma that makes this particularly uncomfortable

He reconciled himself to an evening of listening to Laurent lying a great deal, about everything. Laurent was a nest of scorpions in the body of one person. To hear that Akielos was weakened was as painful as Laurent must have meant it to be.

context: not entirely sold on the idea that laurent is having this conversation about akielos specifically to upset damen, but i get why damen feels that way

‘I wish we had more time together,’ said Torveld, showing no inclination to rise.

GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER

‘Nephew. You were not invited to these discussions.’ ‘And yet, here I am. It’s very irritating, isn’t it?’ said Laurent. ‘You’ve never applied yourself seriously to anything in your life.’ ‘Haven’t I? Well, then it’s nothing serious, uncle. You have no cause to worry.’

laurent applies himself seriously to most, if not all, of the things he chooses to do. regent just dislikes that laurent has a choice and uses it.

[baratiddyappreciator]

Hey again 😭, can you write about the Baki men and their reaction to their s/o squirting?

Oh I can do that lmao, that is a no problemo situation! Added in a bonus Motobe because I see you. Sorry it took me so long, I'm going longer-form with this one. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG I'm on vacation and the internet at my villa isn't the best. Clearly NSFW, Minors fuck off kthx. Continued under the cut, very tempted to do short-stories with these ones, but I'm restraining myself and behaving.

Baki:

Confused, surprised, and for about a second he thinks he made you pee yourself and he feels really bad about it. He's deadass about to appologise profusely until he notices the incredibly satisfied look on your face, then it clicks.

He doesn't do it on purpose, he didn't really know how to, if he's being honest, and after the first time he does it, he has no idea how to replicate it, but he will absolutely try to given your permission. He swears he'll clean up the mess.

He won't do it all the time, of course, but he'll definitely save it for when you have a rough day and need some care, because he knows that that's a powerful ass orgasm and you might appreciate it.

Both genders can apparently squirt, so regardless of what parts you may have, you can also get Baki to squirt. It's a mess and he winds up having to just Take a Minute after, but it's worth it.

Hanayama:

He's proud of himself. Surprised? No not really, he's got a lot to work with, so he'd be more surprised if he doesn't. He's still proud of himself though.

Does he know what he did to make you squirt? Nope. Will he try and replicate it? Not really, he doesn't really have to, because he'll do it again at some point in time. It takes you squirting like 4 or 5 times for him to realise what it is he's doing that makes you squirt.

Once he figures out how to make you squirt, unless you tell him not to, he'll make you squirt every time you guys have sex. He enjoys knowing that he's making you cum really good.

You can try and make him squirt, but it doesn't really happen. You might get it to happen maybe once or twice, but it's not a super common thing for him, and he doesn't appreciate making a mess.

Chiharu:

Ecstatic. He watches it happen with wide eyes and a smile brighter than the sun. He'll fuck you through it just to see if he can make you cum harder. He wants to make your legs shake and your eyes roll back.

Oh he knows exactly what he did and how he did it. He'll do the exact same thing again only seconds later to test that theory, and it'll probably wind up making you cum again. Use the authority you have over him, because unless you tell him not to, he'll make you squirt your brains out.

Given the chance and the permission he'll wear you out. He'll spend the entire time pleasuring you, either by oral or by using his fingers or cock. At that point, he's getting off on the idea that he's making you cum.

When you actually sit down and give basic effort, he is shockingly easy to make squirt. He trusts you completely when it comes to the bedroom, so if you ask him to do something, he'll do it. Getting to cum is just a bonus.

Katsumi:

You come down from your orgasm and look at Katsumi only to see his eyes are the size of dinner plates. He had no idea that you could do that, and he had no idea that he'd done the right thing to get you to do that. Shocked and amazed.

He knows how he did it, the moment is playing in his head over and over. He'll try it again with your permission, or sometimes while you two are fucking he'll just start doing something he knows will make you squirt.

Having a bad day? Let him run you a bath, but could you come here and point out the bubble bath you want to use. Oh, looks like he's fucking you on the edge of the tub, getting you to squirt all over the floor. Whoops!

He's harder to get to squirt, if only because he's not as sensitive, but it's possible. Get him worked up, get him tied down, and go to town on him.

Jack:

He's not going to stop fucking you while you squirt. As a matter of fact, it's one of the few moments where he's openly dominant and domineering. He'll grab you by the throat and talk filthy to you while he makes you cum.

He knows the exact thing that had you squirting, and he can replicate it perfectly. He knows all sorts of little things that make you cum, and he will use them.

He knows when making you squirt is appropriate, but that being said, sometimes he just needs the confidence boost of making you cum that hard, so he'll do it and ask for forgiveness after. Don't worry about the mess, he'll clean it up.

SHOCKINGLY easy to make squirt in practice, but getting him to actually do anything to make him squirt takes a lot of convincing. With him, saying that you want to try something new is fine enough, he'll let you do so, but saying that you want to make him squirt makes him avoid you a little bit.

Kosho:

Stunned silence. He's stopped doing anything, his mouth is open and will not close, he's staring at you, stunned. He's not overly pleased by having to clean up the mess, but he very much likes seeing you cum like that.

He doesn't know what he did, and he's kinda scared to try again in case he does something wrong or actually succeeds and gets a mess all over.

Sometimes though, he's going to go feral whenever he notices that you're having a bad day. The whole concept of "oh no a mess" goes out the window, and he's going to make you nut so hard you'll pass out. Squirt or no, he'll show you a good time.

He's borderline impossible to make squirt. He just isn't really capable of doing so, you'd have to work on him for literal hours, which, while fun, is incredibly overstimulating, or you'd have to get really lucky.

Kureha:

He's not surprised. It's like everyday business for him, though he'll lean into the dirty talk. Not to the same degree as Jack, but it's still some good dirty talk. He's a little surprised if you squirt out of nowhere for the first time without previously doing so, but still, not overly shocked.

He knows everything that happened perfectly. He knows the anatomy, he knows what to do to make it happen. He knows. It takes minimal effort from him.

Sometimes he likes to make you feel small and stupid, because he'll walk up, pin you on a table and then boom, you've made a mess, but other times he'll drag you to the shower, pin you against the wall and look you dead in the eyes as he makes you cum, just so he can look at you while you do it.

He can squirt, doesn't do it very often or in very large amounts, but he is able to. If you're struggling, he outright tells you what to do to make him squirt. He's a bitch, but he's not evil.

Retsu:

Shocked and apologetic. He actually does think he made you piss yourself and he is very sorry. He doesn't listen for the first little bit because he's busy apologizing and cleaning up, all while still hard and cleaning up.

He has no idea what he did or how he did it, but you apparently really liked it so if you want he'll try. The second time he makes you squirt is very awkward for him, but he gets it done. But the third time, it's like he's on a mission. It's a complete 180 in personality and it's great.

He doesn't mind cleaning, he usually cleans up after you two have sex anyways. He wants his precious to sleep in clean sheets and pajamas, and you can't really do that if there's cum everywhere.

Honestly, not hard at all. Get him turned on enough and then give him a handjob and you start to notice that that's not just precum he's leaking. Get him to properly squirt and he'll lose the ability to think for a solid three hours.

Doppo:

Smug bastard will lock eyes with you, your squirt all over his chest and face and he'll just smirk. He's proud of himself, and he'll make subtle little remarks that call back to it out in public just to watch you blush and squirm.

He knows what he did, how he did it and when it's appropriate to make you squirt again. He'll make you forget how to exist for a minute the next time he makes you squirt, and he'll tease you about it, but that's what he was going for.

He'll do it whenever. Some coworker got on your nerves? He'll bend you over the kitchen counter and get to work. Did he get dragged out to speak with Yujiro and the ogre pissed him off? He'll take you where you stand.

He's harder to get to squirt. He'll do everything he can to get around it, he'll even try flipping it on you, but even then, he's much less sensitive than the others, and will take a bit of work to get gushing.

Shibukawa:

Proud, smug, and he will tease you about it, about how hard you were cumming because of him, your expression, even the sound you made. However, it's a fond teasing, and he'll make it clear that it's only playful teasing.

He has no clue how he did it, despite what he might say. You ask him to do that again and he just chuckles and teases you, but it's so he can wrack his brain trying to remember exactly what he was doing to you before you came. He'll figure it out eventually though, he's clever.

He likes to make you squirt at the most inconvenient times. Are guests coming over in ten minutes? He's made you squirt all over the floor and now you have to clean that up and completely hide the evidence with only three minutes left.

He's almost as easy to make squirt as Jack is. You play around with him for a little and boom, there it goes. He's got nothing to say other than more playful teasing, but it's fine, just make him cum again and he'll shut up.

Motobe:

Smug, teasing and cocky. He's get your cum all over his chest and stomach, and all you'll see when you come back down from cumming is him smirking at you smugly. Brace yourself, is all I have to say.

He'll make you do it again and again until either he is satisfied or until you beg him to give you a break, and even then, he'll still keep shallowly fucking you with only his tip, it'll drive you insane.

You squirt whenever he wants. Sometimes he doesn't want to clean, and other times he's in a Fuck It mood and will make you cum all over his sheets. He'll wash them anyways, but still, just the thought of your cum staining them drives him insane.

It takes a bit of work to get him to squirt, but it is possible. He's like a hard medium difficulty. It's difficult, but not impossible, and he'll absolutely play it down. He'll be clawing at the sheets, cumming, rolling his eyes back and making noises, but the second he comes down he's like "Well that didn't suck. Was that all?"

[olympic-paris]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more …

August 29

886 – Died: Basil I, called the Macedonian, (b.811) was a Byzantine Emperor of probable Armenian descent who reigned from 867 to 886. Born a simple peasant in the Byzantine theme of Macedonia, he rose in the Imperial court, and usurped the Imperial throne from Emperor Michael III (r. 842–867). Despite his humble origins, he showed great ability in running the affairs of state, leading to a revival of Imperial power and a renaissance of Byzantine art. He was perceived by the Byzantines as one of their greatest emperors, and the dynasty he founded, the Macedonian, ruled over what is regarded as the most glorious and prosperous era of the Byzantine Empire.

Basil was born to peasant parents in the area of Adrianople in Thrace. One story asserts that he had spent a part of his childhood in captivity in Bulgaria, where his family had, allegedly, been carried off as captives of the Khan Krum (r. 803–814) in 813. Basil lived there until 836, when he and several others escaped to Byzantine-held territory in Thrace.

The barest bones of Basil’s story are that he arrived in Constantinople as a penniless wanderer, and finessed friendships with a series of influential men to a point of immense political influence of his own, before assassinating his last and most powerful patron, assuming control of the empire, founding the Macedonian dynasty, and ruling over what is regarded as Byzantium's most glorious and prosperous era. A less discreet account would say that he slept his way to the top.

When he arrived penniless in Constantinople, Basil was befriended by a man called Nicholas, from the church of St Diomede. Two accounts make clear that Nicholas and Basil were joined in some formal of formal rite of union, one of them using precisely the term “adelphoeisis” (the liturgical rite for church blessing of same sex unions):

On the morning after finding him, Nicholas ‘bathed and dressed Basil and was ceremonially united to him, and kept him as his housemate and companion.

and, more explicitly

“on the next day he went with him to the baths and changed his clothes and going into the church established a formal union with him and they rejoiced in each other”.

This was just one of two such formal unions, and other less formal unions, Basil contracted with men. What was the appeal? He was a hunk, with notable physical charms, as John Boswell points out referring to Basil’s service with his next patron, Theophilos, who

‘had a great interest in well-born. good-looking, well-built men who were very masculine and strong’.and when he saw how exceptional Basil was in these respects he appointed him his chief equerry. Basil was ‘loved by him more and more with each passing day.’

The attachment to Theophilos did not last, however. Basil soon found a more useful patron, in the form of a wealthy widow, Danelis, who “showered him with gifts of gold and dozens of slaves”. Why? She clearly had a keen eye for a coming man, and asked nothing except that he form a ceremonial union with her son John. Basil made a good show of demurring so as not to look cheap – but he could see where his interest lay.

He duly entered his second same sex union, this time with John – and accepted the money and salves which came to him as a dowry.

But Basil had other fish to fry, and other beds to occupy, on his climb to the throne. First was the young Emperor Michael III, who was still in his teens.

Michael became so attached to Basil that he named him ‘companion of the bedchamber’, a position usually held by a eunuch….Ultimately he named Basil co-emperor.

Both contemporary and modern accounts see physical attraction as influential in Micahael’s choice:

Bad as Michael’s character was,..it seems clear that we must also credit him with homosexualism (sic); and this is confirmed, both by making Basil his bedfellow, and by his choice, when when he grew tired of Basil of a pretty boy to succeed him as favourite.

Basil was not content to share the empire, and in time assassinated Michael, and reigned alone. Basil I died on August 29, 886 from a fever contracted after a serious hunting accident when his belt was caught in the antlers of a deer, and he was allegedly dragged 16 miles through the woods. He was saved by an attendant who cut him loose with a knife, but he suspected the attendant of trying to assassinate him and had the man executed shortly before he himself died.

1844 – Born in Brighton, England, Edward Carpenter (d.1929), English socialist poet, socialist philosopher, anthologist, and early gay activist, was educated at Brighton College where his father was a governor. He then attended Trinity Hall, Cambridge before joining the Church of England as a curate.

Carpenter left the church in 1874 and became a lecturer in astronomy. During this period, he moved to Sheffield to live in a same sex relationship with George Merrill, a working class man he had met on a train. Two men of different classes living together fairly openly as a couple was almost unheard of in England in the 1890s, a fact made all the more extraordinary by the hysteria about alternative sexualities generated by the Oscar Wilde trial of 1895 and the Criminal Law Amendment Bill passed a decade earlier "outlawing all forms of male homosexual contact," but they would remain partners for the rest of their lives. E M Forster was close friends with the couple, and he claimed that George Merrill was the inspiration for his novel Maurice. Carpenter was also a significant influence on the author D H Lawrence, whose Lady Chatterley's Lover can be seen as a heterosexualised Maurice.

Carpenter and George Merrill

Their relationship not only defied Victorian sexual mores but also the highly stratified British class system. Their partnership, in many ways, reflected Carpenter's cherished conviction that same-sex love had the power to subvert class boundaries. It was his belief that at sometime in the future, Gay people would be the cause of radical social change in the social conditions of man. Carpenter remarks in his work The Intermediate Sex:

"Eros is a great leveller. Perhaps the true Democracy rests, more firmly than anywhere else, on a sentiment which easily passes the bounds of class and caste, and unites in the closest affection the most estranged ranks of society. It is noticeable how often Uranians of good position and breeding are drawn to rougher types, as of manual workers, and frequently very permanent alliances grow up in this way, which although not publicly acknowledged have a decided influence on social institutions, customs and political tendencies." (Note: The term "Uranian", referring to a passage from Plato's Symposium, was often used at the time to describe someone who would be termed "Gay" nowadays. Carpenter is counted among the Uranians himself.)

In 1883, Carpenter joined the Social Democratic Federation, and in 1885 he left with William Morris to join the Socialist League. Never committing to any narrow doctrine, he dabbled in the Labour Church movement, and studied Eastern Religion, travelling to Ceylon and India in 1890. On his return he developed a kind of 'mystic socialism' which produced campaigns against air pollution and vivisection, promoted vegetarianism and 'rational dress', a reaction to Victorian clothing which included the making and wearing of sandals. These ideas were considered crackpot by many in the Left.

Later he became a founder member of the Independent Labour Party in 1893. His pacifism led him to become a vocal opponent of first the Second Boer War and then the First World War.

In the 1890s, Carpenter began to campaign against discrimination on the grounds of sexual orientation. He strongly believed that homosexuality was a natural orientation for people of a 'third sex'. His 1908 book on the subject, The Intermediate Sex, would become a foundational text of the LGBT movements of the 20th century. Carpenter also both supported and drew inspiration from the Women's movement.

!t is his writings on the subject of homosexuality and his open espousal of this identity that makes him unique. If you are unfamiliar with Carpenter, find him - read him. He is one of the formative, foundational Gay philosophers in the late 19th and early 20th century. His influence was widespread at the time, and is no less innovative and profound, today. Harry Hay spoke many times of the influence Carpenter's work had on his early understanding of Gay sexuality. His important writings include:

Towards Democracy (1883)

England's Ideal (1887)

Civilisation: Its Cause and Cure (1889; reissued 1920)

Homogenic Love and Its Place in a Free Society (1894).

Love's Coming of Age (1896)

Days with Walt Whitman (1906)

Iolaus — Anthology of Friendship (editor, 1908)

The Intermediate Sex: A Study of Some Transitional Types of Men and Women (1908)

The Intermediate Types Among Primitive Folk (1914)

My Days and Dreams (autobiography, 1916)

Pagan & Christian Creeds: Their Origin and Meaning (1920)

After the First World War Carpenter had moved to Guildford, Surrey, with Merrill. In January 1928, Merrill died suddenly, leaving Carpenter devastated. Carpenter's state of mind is described vividly by the noted political activist G. Lowes Dickinson,

"Edward's grief when that occurred was overwhelming. I remember him walking on my arm to the cemetery at Guildford where they had buried George a few days before, and where he himself was to lie a year or so later. It was a day of pouring rain, and we stood beside the grave, while Carpenter [cried] again and again, 'They have put him away in the cold ground'."

In May 1928, Carpenter suffered a paralytic stroke which rendered him almost helpless. He lived another 13 months before he died on Friday June 28, 1929. His own words form the epitaph engraved on his tombstone:

"Do not think too much of the dead husk of your friend, or mourn too much over it, but send your thoughts out towards the real soul or self which has escaped — to reach it. For so, surely you will cast a light of gladness upon his onward journey, and contribute your part towards the building of that kingdom of love which links our earth to heaven."

Edward Carpenter was the first gay activist of the modern age. A true pioneer.

1922 – (Richard) Mr. Blackwell, born Richard Sylvan Selzer (d.2008), in Brooklyn, New York was a fashion critic, journalist, television personality, artist, and former fashion designer known internationally as Mr Blackwell. He was the creator of the Ten Worst Dressed Women list, an annual awards presentation he unveiled in January of each year. He also published the 'Fabulous Fashion Independents' list and an annual Academy Awards fashion review, both of which received somewhat less media attention. His longtime companion, former Beverly Hills hairdresser, Robert Spencer, managed him. He wrote two books, Mr. Blackwell: 30 Years of Fashion Fiascos and an autobiography, From Rags to Bitches.

After a troubled and poverty-stricken childhood he began acting in theatre in his teens. After relocating to the West Coast in the 1930s he adopted the name 'Dick Ellis' and was signed by the studios to play small parts in movies. Howard Hughes changed his name to Richard Blackwell when he signed him to RKO. He went back to Broadway in 1944 but eventually left acting for a short stint as a Hollywood agent. He discovered a talent for design while making his client's stage costumes.

The name, 'Mr. Blackwell' came in the late-1950s when he launched his clothing line. He was an important designer and during the 1960s he became the first in history to present his line on a television broadcast; and the first to make his line available for plus-size women. During the nearly two decade existence of the 'House of Blackwell', he was designer to Yvonne DeCarlo, Jayne Mansfield, Dorothy Lamour, Jane Russell and California first lady Nancy Reagan. During the 1980s the emerging drift toward casual wear brought an end to The House of Blackwell.

The first 'Ten Worst Dressed Women' list premiered in 1960, to moderate media success, but as the House of Blackwell became more successful, the list took off. By its third year every television and radio network and virtually all news services worldwide began to cover it. For more than forty years after first released, Blackwell annually spent a week after its publication on telephone interviews to fashion magazines, radio programmes and news networks. No star, celebrity or royal was immune to his scathing critique of their wardrobe. He on occasion included men in his lists. His lists have inspired many imitators and today's often cruel and judgemental view of celebrity fashion owes a debt to Mr Blackwell.

Blackwell lived in the Hancock Park enclave of Los Angeles with his partner of 60 years, former Beverly Hills hairdresser Robert Spencer, his longtime companion and manager. In 1964, they rented their home to The Beatles for the English band's first visit to the city. It was leaked to the media, however, and the group made other arrangements

In 2001, Blackwell was diagnosed with Bell's Palsy which causes limited to severe paralysis of facial muscles and effects the use of the extremities and can effect eyesight as well. Although it is treatable it is incurable, however often it tends to clear up on it own. He was unable to unveil the 2000 list at a live news conference for the first time in its 40-year history and remained out of the public eye for six months. He came back for the 2001 Worst Dressed and continued his great work, awarding 2006's No 1 spot jointly to Britney Spears and Paris Hilton.

Blackwell died in Los Angeles in October 2008 of complications from an intestinal infection. He was 86.

1928 – Charles Gray (d.2000) was an English actor who was well known for roles including the arch-villain Blofeld in the James Bond film Diamonds Are Forever, Dikko Henderson in a previous Bond film You Only Live Twice, Sherlock Holmes's brother Mycroft Holmes in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and as the Criminologist in the cult classic The Rocky Horror Picture Show in 1975.

Gray attended Bournemouth School alongside Benny Hill, whose school had been evacuated to the same buildings, during the Second World War. Some of his friends remember that his bedroom walls were plastered with pictures of film stars.

Charles Gray distinguished himself in theatrical roles, in the Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, at the Royal Shakespeare Company, Stratford-Upon-Avon, and at the Old Vic. He received his vocal training at the RSC and became noted for his imposing stage presence; features which would translate impressively to character parts on screen.

During the 1960s, Gray established himself as a successful character actor and made many appearances on British television. Work in this period included Danger Man with Patrick MacGoohan and Maigret. Gray also appeared opposite Laurence Olivier in the film version of The Entertainer (1960) as a reporter. In 1964 he played murderer Jack Baker in the Perry Mason episode, "The Case of the Bullied Bowler."

His breakthrough year came in 1967 when he starred with Peter O'Toole and Omar Sharif in the WWII murder-mystery film The Night of the Generals.

The following year he played Henderson, an Australian intelligence officer assigned to the Australian Embassy in Tokyo, in the 1967 Bond film You Only Live Twice. Four years later he appeared as Ernst Stavro Blofeld in the James Bond movie Diamonds Are Forever, both films starring Sean Connery as Bond. These make Gray one of the small number of actors to have played a villain and a Bond ally in the film series, another being Joe Don Baker.Gray's most prolific work as an actor was between 1968 and 1979 when he appeared in more than forty major film and television productions. In this period he is perhaps best known for portraying the Criminologist (the narrator) in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and a similar character, Judge Oliver Wright, in its 1981 sequel Shock Treatment.

He regularly dubbed for Jack Hawkins after Hawkins's larynx was removed to combat throat cancer, as the two otherwise highly distinctive men's voices were similar. An example of this is in the film Theatre of Blood.

a young Thom Gunn

1929 – Thom Gunn born in Gravesend, Kent (d.2004), was an Anglo-American poet who was praised both for his early verses in England, where he was associated with The Movement and his later poetry in America, even after moving toward a looser, free-verse style.. In his youth, he attended University College School in Hampstead, London. Later, he read English literature at Trinity College, Cambridge, graduated in 1953, and published his first collection of verse, Fighting Terms, the following year.

In 1954, he emigrated to the United States to teach writing at Stanford University and to remain close to his partner, Mike Kitay, whom he had met while at college. After relocating from England to San Francisco, Gunn, who became openly gay, wrote about gay-related topics — particularly in his most famous work, The Man With Night Sweats in 1992 — as well as drug use, sex, and topics related to his bohemian lifestyle. He won numerous major literary awards.During the 1960s and 1970s, his verse explored society's increasingly liberal views of drugs, homosexuality, and poetic form.

The poet's major stylistic change in his shift toward free verse roughly within a decade that included much of the 1960s, combined with the other changes in his life — his move from England to America, from academic Cambridge to bohemian San Francisco, his becoming openly gay, his drug-taking, his writing about the "urban underbelly" — caused many to conjecture how his lifestyle was affecting his work "British reviewers who opposed Gunn's technical shifts blamed California, just as American critics would, later on, connect his adventurous lifestyle with his more 'relaxed' versification," according to Orr, who added that even as of 2009, critics were contrasting "Gunn's libido with his tight metrics — as if no one had ever written quatrains about having sex before"

His most famous collection, The Man With Night Sweats (1992), is dominated by AIDS-related elegies. Neil Powell praised the book:

"Gunn restores poetry to a centrality it has often seemed close to losing, by dealing in the context of a specific human catastrophe with the great themes of life and death, coherently, intelligently, memorably. One could hardly ask for more."

As a result of the book, Gunn received the Lenore Marshall Poetry Prize in 1993. Although AIDS was a focus of much of his later work, he remained HIV-negative himself.

In 2004, he died of acute polysubstance abuse, including methamphetamine, at his home in the Haight Ashbury neighborhood in San Francisco, where he had lived since 1960.

1966 – Stephen Trask, (né Schwartz) is an American musician and composer who graduated from Wesleyan University. He was the music director and house band member at the New York City club Squeezebox, where they performed with stars such as Debbie Harry, Lene Lovich and Joey Ramone.

Trask composed the music and lyrics for the stage musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch (also a 2001 film), about a struggling rock star named Hedwig. Trask's real-life band Cheater performed as Hedwig's band "The Angry Inch". He received an Obie Award for the play and a Grammy Award nomination for the movie.

Trask resides in Lexington, Kentucky, with his husband Michael Trask, who is a professor at the University of Kentucky. They were married by their neighbor, former state senator Kathy Stein.

1977 – Thomas Ays, born in Säckingen, now Bad Säckingen, Germany, is a German author, of gay fiction.

Thomas Ays writes novels for gay adolescents and adults, but they are also strongly aimed at heterosexuals sensitize them about certain problems of being gay. In his debut novel Romeo and Julian, for example, he not only addresses the problems of coming out, but also primarily deals with the relationship between parents and their homosexual children.

His first novel Romeo and Julian was published in 2010 by Himmelstürmer Verlag in Hamburg , a publishing house for gay literature. In September 2011, the second novel followed, The inner scream , which deals with homosexuality only marginally and at its core deals with depression.

In addition to his work as a freelance writer, Thomas Ays was also the owner and editor-in-chief of the web-based film critic database moviesection.de. The portal existed from 2001 to 2016 and contained over 6,000 film reviews. From 2002 to July 2020 he also headed the sister site booksection.de. More than 3,000 short book reviews have been published in the privately managed database. At the same time he has been the head of the Tourism and Culture Office of the city of Bad Säckingen since January 2019.

1993 – Lucas Cruikshank is an American actor and YouTube personality. Living in Columbus, Nebraska, he created the character Fred Figglehorn and the associated Fred series for his channel on the video-sharing website, YouTube. These videos are centered on Fred Figglehorn, a fictional 6-year-old who has a dysfunctional home life and "anger management issues".

Cruikshank, while testing character ideas, created the Fred character in a Halloween video, and uploaded it to a YouTube channel that he had started with his two cousins. Upon the success of Fred, he started a video series, and set up the Fred channel in April 2008. By April 2009, the channel had over one million subscribers, making it the first YouTube channel to do so, and the most subscribed channel at the time. In December 2009, Cruikshank filmed Fred: The Movie, which aired on Nickelodeon in September 2010. Nickelodeon created a franchise surrounding the character, and began producing the sequel in March 2011. Fred 2: Night of the Living Fred aired on October 22, 2011, also on Nickelodeon. In 2012 Fred: The Show aired, consisting of 20 11-minute episodes, as well as a third movie.

Lucas Cruikshank was born on and raised in Columbus, Nebraska. Cruikshank is openly gay. In a video released August 20, 2013, he came out saying "I'm gay. I feel so weird saying it on camera. But my family and friends have known for like three years. I just haven't felt the need to announce it on the Internet."

[willowthewiisp]

More random thoughts about the lore in the dlc and how I'm trying to murder board it

Messmer and Marika mirror Mary and Jesus but in a fucked up way. Messmer quite literally sacrifices himself for his mother's sins so she could be a saint to the golden order. There's literally a Madonna esque statue of her and messmer as a baby. The name Marika is literally just another version of Mary. I don't even think messmer has a father like there was no player two Marika must have made a deal with either the serpent god or the fell god (and I'm more inclined to say the latter) and in return gifted her a child she could raise to slaughter her hated enemy. It's pretty clear the shaman village and the humans in general were more than likely all women. They were long lived but seldom born. Hard to have babies without men unfortunately. This ties back into erdtree births too and why Melina seemed so confused about how boc actually came from his mother. Now idk about Melina. She's still a big mystery. But it's implied people were literally reborn through the erdtree and through it's sap. The amber egg should be clue enough considering it holds the rune of rebirth and amber is fossilized tree sap so... Messmer was definitely a miraculous conception sort of deal, but I think because he was born of a single god like miquella and malenia, he was born cursed and afflicted too, just by the serpent god. It's why the snake is so reviled and hated. Marika hated what the snake did to him but as she stripped away her humanity she couldn't care less so long as he bathed the belurat settlement in blood. I also think this is why the fell god and the giants cursed "radagon" with red hair because Marika betrayed them and killed their god whom she had made a deal with to have a child.

Messmer was the sacrificial lamb she raised just for the slaughtering, and Melina has the same unfortunate fate as well, reduced to being kindling to burn the great tree. Who her "father" is and when she was born is a mystery considering she was clearly messmers sister, but she doesn't seem to have the same origins, or maybe she does and is also afflicted like miquella and malenia. Another cycle.

The only child she seemed to genuinely love was godwyn. He was perfect, golden, and the scion of her empire. His death drove her insane. Sucks she didn't go mad over messmer who literally took a huge bullet for her and welp we kill him too. She cared for miquella in some way shape or form considering there's an item (I forget the name) that basically says Marika blessed miquellas journey to the lands of shadow and his journey to godhood. Which is odd in retrospect. Also calls into question if godwyn was actually first born or not, but honestly I'm starting to think he still was, mostly because it seems like messmer was apart of the family for some time if he was like an older brother to radahn (I guess that explains why rellana loves him?) so the massacre must not have occured until after godwyn was born because I firmly believe her sins against the hornsent cursed her children with Godfrey and resulted in the omen twins. Godwyn must have been born at the very least because then messmer at least had some sort of chance at meeting radahn and interacting with him since radagon was married to rennala at this point. But that also must mean the war with the giants wasn't the final battle because radagons red hair came from that and kinda need radagon to have radahn so he can be a brother to messmer. I think this may be even confirms radahn is the oldest? Considering the crusades were hidden away from history, it would make sense history would call the fire giant war the last one to solidify marikas rule. Also would make sense why the fucking giants are ALL impaled like c'mon now.... But Marika after seeing how powerful her precious little boy was gave him the singular task of avenging her and slaughtering those monsters. And boy howdy did he. But then she locked him away. Threw him away, threw Godfrey away...she throws the rest of her children away after godwyn is killed. But messmers crusade made the hornsent curse Marika and that's when I think the twins were born. They had to of been while radagon had radahn and after messmer because remember godwyn fought the dragons during the time when the erdtree and golden order was still new. Either way she throws her cursed omen children in the trash, and I'm fully convinced if it hadn't been for Godfrey they would of been killed. Why wouldn't she want them dead after all. Would also make sense after the twins were born she began to have doubts and started to deep dive into how the fuck her perfect order allowed the crucible to come through and how omens still exist. It all culminates in godwyn being murdered and she loses her ever loving mind. But these are just thoughts because I've been up all night suffering side effects of a antidepressant and I'm going nuts

[gevauxie]

I had a Russian Doll toy when I was young.

Tom's diary was laid out on the bare prison desk before him. His ink was running low. He sucked at the nib of the quill, ignoring its bitter taste, using his tongue to wet the end. Once it was running freely again, he lowered it back down. He carried on scratching away.

...The doll was a gift. A hand-me-down, from some crazed Victorian benefactor who visited the orphanage once every other blue moon. She was an older woman; all fur coat and stiff upper lip, the kind that quite clearly had no time for children, and did her best to avoid them where she could. God knows why she donated to the crumbling monolith that was the Wool’s Institute for Impoverished Boys and Girls. Perhaps it made her look good to her high society friends. Perhaps it gave her something to boast about over dinner.

Regardless, she came to visit every now and then. We always knew she was coming because we were all forced to bathe the night before, and matron would come round with a nit-comb and an old tin box of talc. We’d have our hair scraped back and our shirt collars ironed out. Everything was packed and put away, and after breakfast we were made to stand in a long, straggly line by the front door.

The benefactor rang the doorbell. Nobody rang the doorbell. They either knocked on the knocker or they didn’t come at all.

She always hobbled in, clanking like the rusted screws on the side of a radiator. Her nose was hooked, her warts visible; my first encounter with what I thought was an old wicked witch. The classic bogeyman of children’s fairy stories – but a far cry from the real thing, I had come to realise.

She strode forwards, inspecting each of us in turn. We stood in alphabetical order, so as a member of the ‘R’s, I was toward the back of the queue. But she always paused when she got to me. Her black-toed heels came to a determined stop, and she peered down, meeting my eye.

She liked me. She always had. I couldn’t really put my finger on why; perhaps it was because she saw in me something that reminded her of herself. She saw the fire behind my gaze, no matter how forcefully I tried to smother it; she saw the flash of defiance, and the refusal to sit down and accept my lot. She looked at me and saw a fighter, a savage who would do anything – and everything – to achieve whatever it was that they wanted. I had a feral animal somewhere inside of me. At that age, I just needed to learn how to tame it.

The benefactor bent down, with what looked like great effort. She leant heavy on her cane and her knees popped. She produced the little doll from the inside of her fur coat pocket.

"Look at this," she said. "And tell me what you see."

I had looked at it. I had looked at its squat painted head, and at the delicate red and blue flowers that made up the pattern of its dress. I had taken it from her outstretched hand and had turned it over between both of my own. I remember the wooden curves of its surface being smooth.

"It’s fat," I said. "Fat and ugly."

The benefactor had sighed with impatience.

"Yes. But what else?"

I looked. I floundered. I shrugged at her.

"I don’t know."

She pointed a finger at the doll’s dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

"See, there? You think she’s looking at you. But really, she’s looking inward."

I had no idea what she meant. I tried turning the doll around, so that it caught the light. Nothing stood out to me.

"You might not realise it, but she has multiple faces," the benefactor said. "A woman can be tricky, like that. And sometimes men too."

Still, I saw nothing. I turned the doll back and forth.

"How does she hide them?" I asked. "Her faces?"

"By lying."

I had wrinkled my nose, disbelieving. I knew all about lying. I used it and I abused it, though I admit now that I hadn’t been very good. Not yet, at least. For example – I had no concept, back then, of lying to oneself, in order to protect the id from harm. I had no concept of wearing a ruse in order to go undercover, or of convincing oneself of an entirely different personality, for the sake of successful espionage.

"Lying?" I asked her, pretending I had never heard the word.

The benefactor smiled a rare smile. Her one good eye twinkled, knowing.

"Yes, boy. The doll works by wrapping itself within a lie – and then another, and another. All to hide a greater lie, underneath."

I turned the doll over between my fingers. "How?"

She reached out her long, bony hand to lift the doll back up from me. She twisted it and pulled off its egg-shaped head. Inside, another head appeared, slightly smaller than the last.

I remember that I had gasped. To me, the edges of her body had seemed so smooth. I’d had no idea there was an opening.

The benefactor didn’t stop there. She pulled off another head, and then another, going deeper and deeper until she reached the centre of the doll. She handed me the pieces, and I collected what I could between my little palms.

She never asked for them back, so one by one, I had slipped them into my trouser pockets. I could feel the other children’s eyes burning into my side, lime-green from jealousy.

"You can’t trust people, Tom." Before me, the benefactor heaved herself back upward, moving with more popping sounds and a dangerously straining wheeze. Her cane wobbled as she leant on it. "Now, let that be a lesson to you."

A few years later, I was offered my place at Hogwarts’ School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I forgot all about the old Victorian benefactor – and all about the toy she had bequeathed me, and the message she had tried to send. I thought I was better than her. I thought I was better than everyone, and I didn’t need anyone else’s sage advice, thankyou very much.

So, really, it’s my own damn fault that I’m in the situation I’m in.

______

Chapter 12, 'Matryoshka', from WIP Tomione fic 'Kiss Me Before You Go'. The rest of the fic is available to read on AO3:

[saints-who-never-existed]

Rereading The Terror

Okay, I've had a couple of days to process it since reading ahead last week. I'm still not over it but nevertheless I persist.

Suicide is, of course, a prominent theme in this chapter so I'll put everything under the cut again I think.

Chapter Fifty: Bridgens

Bridgens reflects on how, over the years, he's often likened his life to different works of literature. He compares his youngest years to works like Canterbury Tales which implies perhaps a search for meaning and identity with Bridgens casting himself as various characters, both heroic and otherwise.

In his twenties, anxiety and indecision again seem to come to the forefront as he compares himself to Hamlet: "...suspended between thought and deed, between motive and action, frozen by a consciousness so astute and unrelenting that it made him think about everything, even thought itself."

More specifically, this unsurety, this 'to be or not to be', centres around Bridgens feelings about his own sexuality and his thoughts about suicide. Unhappy with his life, unhappy in pretending to be something he was not, Bridgens contemplated ending his own life but seemed to have overthought his way out of doing so in the end: "...miserable that he could only think about ending his own life because the fear that thought itself might continue on the other side of this mortal veil, "perchance to dream", kept him from acting even toward quick, decisive, cold-blooded self-murder." I think this is very much worth noting. That he's contemplated suicide before but was always stopped essentially by the idea of not knowing what was on the other side.

In his middle-age, Bridgens compares himself to Odysseus and comes to think of his skill and knowledge as a Steward as a kind of shield, a means of self-preservation - "He used his craft to become and to stay invisible."

Back in the present, Bridgens compares himself to King Lear and around him, the march continues. They intend to follow the southern coast of King William Island, set up another camp, and watch the strait to see whether the ice will break up enough or whether they'll have to haul across it toward the mouth of Back's River. Bridgens does not intend to join them in this.

As mentioned in a previous post, he sets his own journal away inside his sleeping bag and carries only Peglar's with him as he gets ready to leave. :(((

Interestingly, Goodsir is aware of his leaving and aware, at least in part, of Bridgens' feelings and his intentions in setting off into the landscape. He makes a rather Classical sort of reference to suicide: "You sound like a Stoic, Mr Bridgens. A followed of Marcus Aurelius. If the emperor is displeased with you, you go home, draw a warm bath..." Which is just gut-wrenching all round as - I believe - that refers to the death of Seneca, who drew a warm bath and cut his wrists in it at the behest of Emperor Nero. And, again, it's interesting too given the manner of death Goodsir himself chooses later in the show... :(((

There's great beauty though as well as great tragedy in the understanding and connection Goodsir and Bridgens have clearly come to share. Goodsir brings things full circle in many ways by referring back to Hamlet: "...I just wish to take a walk this evening. Perhaps a nap." "Perchance to dream?" said Goodsir. "Aye, there's the rub," admitted the steward.

He then encourages Bridgens to stay, but doesn't belabour the point too much, simply expresses again great understanding and respect: "There are other men who can help you, sir, and who have hands far steadier - and stronger - than mine" "But no one as intelligent," said Goodsir. "No one I can talk to as I have with you. I value your advice." :'))) And right enough, Bridgens imparts an important bit of advice as the two men part ways that's really stuck with me since: "I've always agreed with St Augustine when he said that the only real sin is human pain."

Bridgens makes his way out into the wilderness and stops before it gets dark. His last meal is a stale ship's biscuit - "it was one of the most delicious things he'd ever tasted.". And if ever we needed further proof of the peace and tranquility that's overcome him in his final hours, we know that he thinks of a comforting past more than a miserable present as he enjoys his final sunset - "the kind of sunset that Odysseus, not Lear, would have seen and enjoyed."

He reads through Peglar's papers one final time, reflects again on "one of the most intelligent human beings he'd ever known". Whatever fear Bridgens might once have had about the Great Unknown that follows death, it's gone now and replaced, I think, with a certainty that whatever the afterlife may bring, Harry Peglar will be a part of it. At that, he lies down for his final rest. "John Bridgens was asleep before the last of the grey sunlight died in the south.

[talldarkandroguesome]

4th of Sun’s Height, Tirdas

Tharn and I have been pouring strategically through the library. At first we were taking different sections. Then we switched to working through the same section and sharing things we thought could be of interest.

We struck upon some very strange things. Some thing Tharn thought were purely the folly of an overly confident Euraxia. One document talked about controlling dragons and the Dragonguard.

Tharn at first dismissed this, saying the Dragonguard are just legends, once sworn to protect the Emperor of Cyrodiil, Yet as we discovered Euraxia’s personal journey, we found that it was not so bizarre.

Apparently the last of this Dragonguard was here in Elsweyr and that Euraxia sought to prove her worth and loyalty to the dragons by slaying him. That had to be a bad thing.

Further, everything that was mentioned in the Moonsingers’ tales seemed to be based in reality, and a great deal more than one would expect. We discovered that a Prefect Calo had more informatino on this Dragonguard and Tharn immediately sought to protect them and gain whatever knowledge or alliance we might. If there was truly some group dedicated to the elimination of dragons, they would be our only hope thus far.

There was also mention of the Moon Gate that The Speaker had told us of. Everything is connected, from Sir Cadwell’s head to these dragon slayers. Especially learning that Euraxia was already in the process of having this warrior tracked down by her greatest assassins. Likely no one would have been able to call them off. The mysterious captain, Captain Saulinia as it turns out, was clearly ready to seize control of information and slay her way to whatever she liked. It is little wonder why Euraxia trusted her, as alike as they were.

Tharn suddenly seemed to have an electricty to him as he practically pulled me to follow him. He compared some other notes he found, having me stand while he mentally connected all he needed for whatever he was formulating as a plan.

We discussed what we knew at that point and there were a lot of blanks. We knew that someone was trying to find the location of the last Dragonguard and this Prefect had the information. Captain S had gone to retrieve it and then to send Euraxia’s best assassins after this person.

It made sense how this connected to the dragons. But how did it have anything to do with the Necromancers and The Betrayer? Tharn was still working on it and said that he knew he could have the connection for us soon, but he needed me to stop Captain Saulinia from getting her hand on the information before us. We needed to secure this ally.

I wasted no time and started to leave, but Tharn stopped me and asked me where I was going.

I simply told him that I was going to take care of things. He got that sly smile I knew so well and told me not without getting my reward first. And then he pushed me down on top of his sister’s paperwork and took me right there. I was thrilled with the whole situation. He must be feeling better and I did not protest when he was finished, pulled my trousers back up and told me not to waste any time.

He knew I would need a bath and this was another of his little games. I agreed and decided that I would play along, letting the stain of him remain upon me as I left, knowing full well that every Khajiit in the place would be well aware of what had transpired between us.

He said he had to inform the Queen and The Speaker and that I should gather my men, as if I did not have only one and the rest mer, and meet him on the west side of town. 

I am just waiting for Nettle to get the rest of his supplies together and then we make haste. We have a potential new ally to save.

[d0ntw0rrybehappy]

On my last day in Berlin went to a lake near Teufelsberg (Teufelssee, devil’s lake lol) where about a hundred people were bathing and sunning themselves in the buff. It’s kinda an institution around Europe. So I’m like cool and I join them, get nakey in nature and swim around in a nice cool lake. Definitely fewer full frontal women than men, and being young as well, felt very conscious of gaze, but also wanna get naked like everybody else and felt it was my right. Suss the towel spot for weird dudes, spot a few — just guys with gazes that aren’t quite right — but on second glance they’re, like, fine. Not actionable level creepy. There’s one man nearby who gives me some solace, an old-ish guy in cool glasses and long hair for whom it is just clearly nonsexual chillin’. Exchange a wordless hello.

Swim, come back, blah blah. I’m stoned and had spent the afternoon in the forest gazing at bloated Nazi oil tanks hidden off the main path. The tanks with which I’d had an almost religious interaction turned out to be American, supplying the spy station atop Teufelsberg during the Cold War. The Nazi part is the unfinished university underneath Teufelsberg, which is an artificial hill formed of rubble because the Americans found this strategy easier than using dynamite. Truth isn’t always stranger than fiction but it does have a way of being unsentimental. So I’m ready to go at this point, had had a nice time swimming, knock the kickstand to my Lime app bike, when I look up to see a sort of ageless nude man (young face, salt-pepper hair) has materialized among the the trees. Wasn’t the water really cold? He asks me.

I shrug. It was fine. He squats down next to me as I kneel to tie my shoes. His long, coltlike legs sort of cross over his penis. He has been watching me swim and sun, he says. He thought I was a refugee, a Syrian immigrant! Ha ha. He noticed I’m alone. Yes, I’m alone. Traveling alone! Wow!

Ah — I remember him. One of the guys scattered around my way when I put my towel down. A quick exchange of glances, not the best vibe, and then he made himself forgotten.

I ask him what he does for work. He says he’s an investor. Inexplicably the idea of him investing in my art flashes through my brain and I become so conscious of appearing opportunistic I almost knock over my bike. And me? Social media, I tell him. His brother has a media agency, he says. Mostly the money in Germany is shit, but it’s pretty good in media, advertising. Germany has a great train that goes unlimited over the summer for 50€. I can explore the Germanic countryside unhindered. His name is Mark. He would love if I might take down his contact info. It’s too bad he caught me right as I was about to go. I am about to ask him for his last name so I can, like, google him but something stops me. Why google?

It’s not until I leave it dawns on me how weird that was. Every day here, a new man wants to be friends. I tell them about my boyfriend. Doesn’t matter. Not necessarily weirdos — a married writer, an IT guy from Damascus, a ballroom dancer from Toulouse, a composer at the Louvre. A guy at an ambient show, a friend of a friend — could feel the energy running through his finger, his hand casually placed near mine. I’m practically folded into the corner seething, I think he’s flirting, but not sure if I’m making it up. I told him I had a boyfriend already. Later he says “not to be too forward but you can stay at my place if your hostel is too far.” I’m trying to think of what to say to this.“What do you mean by forward?” Beat. “but I told you I have a boyfriend.” “Oh, I didn’t know what that meant since you’re backpacking through Europe and all.” By the end I’m practically screaming at the IT guy. “I HAVE A BOYFRIEND. I AM NOT INTERESTED. WE ARE WALKING TO THE CLUB AS FRIENDS. PLEASE SIGN HERE.” Still, little things. Hearts. An offer to share a bed.

Women never approach me. I had felt men watching me, yes, when I had been swimming. But you couldn’t tell that I was naked. I’m a damn good swimmer! Ugh. Sometimes I pretend to be stupid.

[chaotic-theatrical-weaver]

I read both versions of An Enemy of the People at the recommendation of a friend.

I loved it. He was absolutely right about it. He wants to restage it so that it takes place in Cold War-era America to parallel the era’s suspicion with the suspicion shown to Dr. Stockmann. What a genius! I can see it. But let’s actually talk about the play’s contents and what both Ibsen and Miller saw in the story.

Dr. Stockmann has different characterizations depending on who’s writing. 

Ibsen agrees with his quest for truth but makes him a bit of a self-righteous, jerkish man with a martyr complex and something of a eugenicist streak. This might be because Ibsen is self-lambasting as to how he is seen (truly or not) after Ghosts. There are also two narrative purposes here:

No matter how jerkish of a man Stockmann is, he’s still right in this case, and he doesn’t deserve the mob mentality ruining his life. He and his daughter got fired, his home has been vandalized, his sons have been driven out of school by people fighting them, and his father-in-law spited him by donating the family’s entire trust fund to the Baths! How is that just?!

No matter how right Stockmann is, we shouldn’t blindly sympathize with him; he has plenty of faults.

Miller’s Stockmann is more clearly in the right and loses the self-righteousness and eugenics (thank goodness). This might be due to the sociopolitical climate in which he adapted the play; it shares plenty of themes with his later work The Crucible and was in fact adapted as a similar social commentary. Miller couldn’t risk his message getting lost just because Stockmann was jerkish.  

Speaking of this parallel, Ibsen’s Stockmann seemed very much like Proctor to me--both men are passionate about telling the truth despite great personal cost, and their passion sometimes keeps them from thinking their statements through enough, though Stockmann is more restrained. Surprisingly, Miller’s Stockmann is more restrained than Ibsen’s and does not bear as much of a similarity to Proctor. We get the passion and anger, but not to the same point of impulsivity, again to avoid losing audience sympathy. 

The overhaul done to Miller’s Stockmann unfortunately means that we lose his mockery of Peter by putting on his hat and using his stick. To me, that was the funniest scene! Again, I get why the change was made, but I think Miller made Stockmann too perfect and utterly flawless. He’s a better person and more humble, but he’s not necessarily as rounded of a character.

The one upside to Miller’s overly sanitized (if you will) version of Stockmann, though, was that by the time he wrote The Crucible, he seems to have learned his lesson and lost his fear of making people turn on the message because it was coming from a jerkish protagonist. Not saying his previous protagonists weren’t messed up (look at Joe Keller and Willy Loman), but I feel like Joe and Willy were messed up so we could watch them descend from being men you could call good and suffer from their own actions. Stockmann and Proctor are supposed to fight for the truth and suffer more from the actions of others than they do from their own (I mean, even though Proctor definitely suffers from the reverberations of his own actions, he’s like Stockmann in that the audience has the sense of “come on, did it really have to go that far?”--he couldn’t have predicted just how massive the reverberations would have been).

LOL the difference between Ibsen’s elevated language and Miller’s simpler form is EVERYTHING. Shoutout to Miller for simplifying, though I read his Stockmann in a “little birthday boy” voice in my head at first.

Miller’s simplification does wonders for the third act when Kiils bought stocks in the hot springs with the Stockmanns’ trust fund and when the paper wants Stockmann back so that Kiils’ stocks can fund whatever they lose from supporting Stockmann. Stockmann’s speech about embracing his role as the enemy of the people is also far more rousing when Miller does it, though I wish he had said “the strongest man in the world is the man who stands alone” as Ibsen had him say rather than “the strong must learn to be lonely.”

MORTEN! THE POINT OF BACTERIA IS THAT YOU DON’T SEE THEM!

I got so happy when I thought the newspaper people would support Stockmann, but then they turned on him at Peter’s convincing UGH. Shoutout to Mrs. Stockmann’s continued support.

Peter was very reminiscent of Danforth in general. Ibsen had him say, "If I am concerned with protecting my reputation, it's only for the good of the town. I cannot possibly direct affairs in a manner conducive to the general welfare as I see it, unless my integrity and authority are unassailable." Also, the fact that he wanted his brother to sign a document that apologized for his “errors.” That sounds very familiar to me LOL--

Not to get all political, but Peter saying he’s fine with freedom in normal times until the current crisis supersedes it...that kinda sounds a lot like the rhetoric of some leaders we’ve had recently (particularly during COVID). Staging it during Cold War-era America would be interesting, but why not go all the way and stage it in the modern day?! (I hear one production set it in FLINT, MICHIGAN, a town that suffered lead poisoning in water. That was bold.)

Horster’s really risking himself by letting Stockmann hold his town hall there because no one else would take him.

Stockmann claiming to be the strongest for being able to stand alone? Loved that statement. Also, his earlier statement (in Ibsen’s version--I wish Miller kept this wording), "When my boys grow up to be free men, I want to be able to look them in the face!" EXUDES "I have three children. How may I teach them to walk like men in the world when I sold my friends?”

Overall, I enjoyed both versions. Miller makes it more accessible, but I liked some of Ibsen’s wordings, and I preferred his characterization of Stockmann to Miller’s. Both are worth a read.

[pipchirisu]

I'm not sure I'll ever let go of the fear of having Yamato's gender semented as female at some point or another but I just read the 1052 raws and that was a win for trans rights wow

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

(this is a sequel to 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞, I recommend reading that first although it’s not 100% necessary... it would make this make a lot more sense though)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : it was just a matter of time before he upped the ante, all four of you knew that, but taking you all on a vacation specifically for this was a bit over-the-top.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 7.9k (hoo boy)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex + a scene that’s just zemo/reader, cockwarming, d/s dynamics, brief oral f receiving, a touch of dubcon/cnc but it’s very subtle and the reader is 100% consenting), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink (with zemo), ‘daddy’ kink (with sam), orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, creampie, praise with light degradation, possessiveness (but also sharing, lol), exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, brief anal mention, once again technically cuckolding but not in the typical sense, slight corruption kink?, too many robes, latin sokovian (or as I like to call it, serbukromanian), also assume that whenever the reader and zemo are alone they are speaking sokovian even though I write the convos in english for the sake of simplicity

thank you for being my beta @nsfwsebbie​ !!

                   When your Baron told you he wanted to take you on a vacation, you immediately assumed it would be to the mountains or some European city full of history and culture.  Instead, you were a bit surprised to hear he was interested in a beach resort, a private villa he had purchased in French Polynesia.

And then you found out he wanted to bring Sam and Bucky along too… and you were simultaneously more and less surprised.  More, because who brings tentative coworkers one barely gets along with on a romantic vacation?  Less, because of course he would do this.  Of course he had plans to dress you up in the tiniest bikinis he could find and show you off to the men who had already become pawns in his perverted game of social chess.

Not that you minded; you were the Queen of the board and it didn’t bother you if it was what the King wanted.

~

You spent the first night in the villa alone with him, which you appreciated.  It had been a while since you two had some real quality time together, and you were craving him more than ever, in every way.

After a beautiful day spent swimming in the crystal blue ocean and enjoying the sights your new temporary home had to offer, you took a shower and tried not to get too excited about how you might be spending the evening with him.  But, of course, you were only a few minutes into washing the saltwater off your body when you began to imagine his tongue on you, god that man could use his tongue to destroy you any way he wanted: with his words, with his kisses, or perhaps best of all with it tasting every inch of your cunt.  It was amazing how he could get on his knees for you and still have all the power.  He liked to make you keep eye contact with him while he did it, make you beg him to let you come, whatever it took to remind you that you were thoroughly and properly owned.

And you loved every second of it, you loved being helpless to him.  He made you feel so safe that being vulnerable with him by now felt like no risk at all.  You could remember early on when your fears and insecurities made you more hesitant to submit to him, and it was only with gentle patience that he coaxed you into it, never pressure or anger.  You weren’t a virgin when you met him but, sometimes it felt like you might as well have been since you were so inexperienced and undersexed then.  In fact, he was the first man, the first person other than yourself to make you come… and he made you come more ways than you had known possible.

Okay, so maybe the plan to not get your hopes up wasn’t going so well… you were already struggling to keep your hands from between your legs. Frankly, you would’ve already done it if you didn’t know that touching yourself was against the rules.

You’d gotten so used to taking care of yourself while he was in prison, at which point he obviously suspended that rule, and it was a hard habit to break at times.

You emerged from the bathroom in the fluffy robe you found on the door, smiling when you saw him lounging on the bed in a matching one, reading Анна Каренина (known by the West as Anna Karenina).  He looked contemplative, as always, and you always thought he looked especially sexy in his reading glasses.  You slipped into the bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as he found a position where he could read comfortably with his arm around your shoulders.

“You must’ve already read that book a thousand times, Helmut,” you sighed.

“And it gets better every time,” he mumbled back, turning the page.

You pouted slightly, nuzzling into his shoulder, and he chuckled.  “Is my little lutka in need of some attention?”

You nodded, and he kissed the top of your head softly.  

“Why don’t you keep me warm while I finish this chapter, hm?” he offered, and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together at his words.  He phrased it like a question, but it felt more like a gentle demand, and you were happy to agree either way.

“Yes, sir,” you hummed as you sat up and straddled his legs, undoing your robe and opening his to wrap your hand around his half-hard cock.

He reached his full potential with only a few slow strokes, and you found yourself absent-mindedly licking your lips as you saw the way your fingers just barely met with your thumb and imagined how your body would be pushed to its limits to take him.  Good thing you were already dripping wet even though you’d just been in the shower.

You indulged in rubbing your pussy over his shaft for a moment, enough to coat him in your wetness, before you lined up his tip to your entrance and sunk down onto him with a sigh, feeling like you could never tire of being stretched open by his thick cock.  

When your hips met his, and the tip of his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you, you had to bite your lip to suppress a whimper.  After so long apart, you were still readjusting to taking him and being on top didn’t make it much easier.

Honestly, you really weren’t trying to move; you just found your hips rocking slightly, seemingly of their own accord.  You moaned under your breath as your clit rubbed against his body, but you were pulled from your trance with a whine as he slapped your thigh.

“No moving, draga, I think I made myself clear,” he reminded you sternly.

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

You were pretty sure that at some point, you were a patient person. But you couldn’t imagine that now, not when all you could think about was how amazing it would be to just ride him right there, memories running through your mind and making your inner walls ripple unintentionally.  He either couldn’t feel it or didn’t care, stoically continuing to read even as you were struggling to stay still.

Your plan was to be good for a while and then hope that you could convince him later… but you know what they say about best-laid plans, so you ended up cutting straight to the convincing pretty fast.

“Can I move yet, sir?”

“It’s hardly been a minute,” he frowned.

“Please,” you sighed, just barely moving your hips without even meaning to.

“Not yet,” he asserted, sounding a bit annoyed, but you needed this more than anything.

"Please let me move, please; I just wanna ride you so bad,” you begged.

He sighed, clearly irritated, and just when you thought you’d made a grave error, he finally put his book aside and looked up at you with a grin.  "If I had known you would be so whiny, I would have had you keep me warm with your mouth.”

You opened your mouth to respond but let out only whimpery moans when he ran his hands up your body, toying briefly with your nipples before wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you down into a rough kiss.  Moaning into it, you couldn’t hold back any longer and started to rock your body atop his, savoring that perfect drag of his length along your walls that you’d missed so much.

Before you got a chance to really set your pace, he grabbed you tight and rolled the both of you over, pinning you under his weight as he fucked you in that way that was somehow rough and slow at the same time, moving his kiss to your neck and holding you down by your wrists.

“Fuck, th-thank you, sir,” you sighed, your cheeks warming when he chuckled against your skin.

“You really are too sweet, draga,” he whispered.

Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs did the same to his hips, keeping him deep inside you while his lips and tongue teased your collarbones, his fingers interlacing with yours.

He spent the entire night somewhere between making love to you and fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come more times than you could count, only taking breaks from fucking you to eat you out like a starving man (and one time for a quick drink sometime around 3 a.m.).  It was no wonder, then, that you passed out just a few moments after he finally came inside you, sleeping soundly in his arms until well into the morning, nearly noon in fact, when the sun was streaming in through the massive window.

After a relaxed breakfast of champagne and fruit (the native pamplemousse was unlike anything you’d ever eaten before), Helmut encouraged you to shower again and meet him at the pool, which was a bit surprising since he normally liked to have you keep his come in you as long as possible.  “Our guests should be here this afternoon,” was his only explanation, and you had a few ideas about what that meant, all of which made your gut sink in an oddly pleasurable way as you were filled with anticipation.

“Wear that bathing suit I bought for you, the new one,” he added finally as he stepped out onto the back patio.

~

It might seem silly to have a pool on a property right by the beach, but on days like today, where the ocean water was just a bit too chilly, you were thankful to have the heated pool to take a dip in.  Honestly, you were a little surprised that Helmut didn’t make you swim in the ocean to see your nipples get hard through the tight black bikini, but then again, they were already getting there just from sharing a pool chair with him.

He was lying against the cushioned chair; your body sat between his spread legs as the back of your head rested on his chest.  And, this is entirely unrelated, but you really liked how he looked in the round sunglasses he had on.

You hummed contentedly as you reached up behind you to touch him, rubbing his shoulders and pecs.  You wiggled a bit, slowly, and imagined how it would feel if he got hard right against the small of your back.

"Mm, what's gotten into you, lutka?" he purred, rubbing your arms.

You rolled your eyes playfully.  "You know the effect you have on me, don't act surprised."

Just before anything exciting could happen, Sam and James entered through the fence, apparently already having changed into their swimsuits; you wished you had thought to wear sunglasses so they couldn’t catch you ogling their muscular bodies, but instead, you just tried to keep your cool as you waved hello.

“Welcome!” Helmut called out, both of you getting up to greet them properly.  “I hope your flight was alright…?”

“Yeah, it was great,” Sam nodded, “thanks.”

“You really own this whole place?” James added, glancing around.

“Yes, would you like to have a swim?  I hear it should be warm enough tomorrow for the ocean, but until then…” Helmut trailed off.

Sam went right ahead, diving in and smiling wide when he popped back up.  That man had such an infectious smile, you thought he should charge people to see it or something because you felt spoiled seeing it for free.

James jumped in behind him but seemed a little surprised when he returned to the surface to see you back in your chair with Helmut.  “Care to join us?” he asked you.

“Um, no, I already swam a bit this morning,” you remembered, suddenly shy, “I think I’ll stay by the pool a while longer.”

“Aw, I was looking forward to getting to know you better,” he pouted, and everyone else raised an eyebrow at that statement.  “Um, verbally, I mean,” he added, cheeks flushing slightly.

“What would you want to know?” you asked, sighing as you relaxed against Helmut’s chest.

“Well, what’s your story?” he shrugged, swimming up the edge of the pool to hang his arms over the edge.

“I… suppose it’s a rather short story,” you realized, “I was born in Sokovia, but my parents were immigrants.  I was a bit of an ugly duckling as a child, I think.”

“You look like quite the swan now,” James winked, and you hoped Helmut wouldn’t notice how much that affected you.  

“Oh, thank you,” you mumbled.

“Which reminds me, that’s a cute bikini you have on,” he complimented.

“Do you like it?” you hummed coyly.  “Helmut picked it out.”

“Why don’t you give them a better look, darling?” Helmut prompted, and Sam swam up to hang over the edge too as you stood up and fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms.  The Baron motioned his finger in a circle, silently instructing you to twirl so they could see the back, and you did though you felt a bit self-conscious about it.  Finally, once you were sure they’d had an eyeful, he let you sit back down in his lap.

“Cute, isn’t it?” he cooed as his fingers travelled slowly up your sides.  “It’s Chanel.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam dismissed, unlatching himself from the edge of the pool and falling into a backstroke.  “This is weird.  I just wanna swim.”

“You didn’t think this was seriously a free vacation, no strings attached, did you?” James shot back, getting up out of the pool and shaking some of the water off of himself before sitting down in the chair beside you two and letting his eyes wander over you.  “So, Chanel, huh?” he prompted, and you nodded.

“Helmut says I should only wear the nicest things,” you explained, sitting up slightly.

“Why does it matter?  You’d look beautiful in anything,” James cooed, and you felt a little dirty for how much you liked his attention.  Good thing you liked feeling dirty.

“And a rare wagyu steak would taste just as good served any way, but you wouldn’t put it on a paper plate, now would you?” Helmut countered.  “Well, maybe you would…”

James rolled his eyes but brushed off Helmut’s insult, returning his attention to you.  “I guess I’m just… hungry enough that it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

You reached up to trace your fingertip over the silver chain dangling off of his neck, biting your lip as you hooked your finger around it and pulled him closer.  “Are you hungry enough that you don’t mind that it’s another man’s meal?”

His blue eyes went wide for a moment before glancing down to your lips and back up to your unwavering gaze, your brow raised as if a challenge while his furrowed as if he were considering accepting it.

“If he’s willing to share…” James whispered back.

“Then kiss me,” you requested softly, pulling him closer by his dog tags one more time until your lips met.

The way James kissed you was… difficult to describe.  Gentle, but with this edge of intensity— like he was restraining himself, like there was so much more passion teeming beneath the surface.  You wanted to bring that out if you could; you wanted to see how far you could push him until he lost it.

As James carefully ventured his tongue into your mouth, only to pull back and nip your bottom lip with his teeth, Helmut kissed you too— on the back of your neck, that spot that always made you wet and desperate right away.  You moaned, and you couldn’t be sure exactly who it was for, but James sure decided to respond to it either way, tilting his head more to let his kiss explore you deeper.

Helmut’s teeth dug into your shoulder right as James nipped at your bottom lip like they had somehow explicitly coordinated to make you desperate; your right hand reached up to weave into James’ hair, your left squeezing Helmut’s wrist at your side.

The kiss ended just a moment too soon, and there was a delay before you blinked your eyes open to look back at James, who seemed quite proud of himself.

“Touch me,” you pleaded in a whimper.

“Where?” he asked, somewhat innocently.

“Y-you know where…” you mumbled.  

He grinned wide, all trance of innocence gone.  “I know, but I want you to say it.”

“My cunt,” you whispered, and he snarled just a bit at the word.  “Please?”

“Of course, which one do you want?” James prompted with a grin, showing you his hands as your eyes instantly gravitated to the metal one.

“I think you know which I’m going to choose,” you mumbled shyly, and he smirked as he reached forward with the vibranium arm to brush his fingertips over your stomach, moving down to the top hemline of your bikini bottom.

You just barely gasped when the metal digits swiped over your clit and began to rub gentle circles, almost too slow as if he wanted to tease you… which, of course, he did.

"Do you like the way he touches you, draga?" Helmut whispered.  His voice in your ear was like honey on your tongue, like honey everywhere.

"Yes, sir," you nodded, looking down at James' hand buried into your bikini.

"Hey, tell me you like it, too," James protested, "I'm the one doing it after all."

"I like it, James," you repeated, looking up at him.  "I… don't have a title for you.  Should I call you something when you touch me like this?"

"You can just call me Bucky from now on, okay?  I think we're well past close enough now for that."

"Okay, Bucky," you sighed, watching the way his jaw clenched when you called him by name, "please put your fingers inside me."

"Both?"

"Yes, please," you breathed.

"But my fingers are thick, they're hard metal, and you're so small and delicate…"

"I want them to stretch me out, just please—"

A loud moan of shock jumped out of your mouth when he pushed the fingers in all at once, and though it reawakened some of the soreness from when Helmut had fucked you the night before, it felt wonderful enough to make your back arch up from the strong body behind you, his erection now digging into your hip.

It was certainly loud enough to get Sam's attention, who suddenly appeared beside the chair while he towelled off his chiselled chest.

"Damn, what are y'all doing to her over here?" he wondered aloud as if he were concerned for your health.

"Just playing with Zemo's little doll," Bucky answered.  "She's really fucking tight, can barely fit two fingers."

"Wait, move over, let me see," Sam insisted, making Bucky pull his fingers out and Helmut holding you more firmly as Sam slipped his hand into your bikini as well, poking his fingers at your entrance before pushing them in.

His fingers were even thicker and longer than Bucky's, just by a slight margin yet enough to make you mewl and arch your back as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Fuck, yeah, you were right," Sam breathed, and you felt more hands running over your body but you couldn't even tell anymore whose they were; you knew one that reached to pull up your bikini top and expose your breasts was Helmut's, because only he would be so bold, but the fingers teasing your nipples, the rough palm running up your legs… they could've belonged to anyone, and that realization made your clit throb.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. I was here first," Bucky mumbled as you felt Sam's fingers slip out and the metal ones push back in— not to mention the thumb reaching up to circle your clit slowly.

He wasn't just exploring you this time; you could tell he had a mission.  The way he instantly curled into your spot, the way he moved quickly yet deliberately, all made your thighs begin to quiver.

Helmut kissed your ear, gently tilting your head to access your neck better where he began to suck hard enough to leave a mark, mumbling something in Sokovian about how good you were being for him and his guests.

You loved being good, and the praise made your hips lift a little so you could rock yourself onto Bucky's fingers; the three men chuckled proudly.

"Feels that good?" Bucky pressed, and you nodded quickly.

He fingered you even faster, harder, and you cried out.

"Ohhh fuck, Bucky!" you gasped.  "Bucky, I'm gonna come!"

"Oh no, you're not," Helmut groaned, giving you a quick spank on the inner thigh as you whined and jolted.  "James, take your fingers out."

"Do I have to?"

"You do if you want a chance to fill her with more than just your fingers…"

That worked right away, Bucky pulling back as you pouted at being empty again.

“Let’s take her inside, and we can continue this there,” Helmut suggested, and Bucky lifted you up into his arms as the Baron led the group back to the master suite.

The convenient thing about bathing suits is that it takes so little time to get naked, which is why the second the patio door was shut, Bucky and Sam were stripping as their hard cocks bobbed up against their stomachs.  As if that weren’t overwhelming enough, Helmut stepped away for a moment (which left you feeling more alone than usual) just as the men began to help you strip; Sam untied the back of your bikini while Bucky knelt and pulled down the bottoms, leaving you feeling exposed as you were totally bare before them.  Bucky smiled up at you and kissed along your thighs while Sam grabbed a handful of your ass and growled a bit under his breath.

When you looked over at Helmut, you saw he had actually dressed in his robe rather than stripping, nearly making you whine with disappointment.  But you couldn’t focus on that long as hands moved all over your skin, both of them still just slightly wet from the pool, and you shivered for both of those reasons.

You gasped when Bucky suddenly licked a thick stripe right over your folds, and if it weren’t for Sam’s arms holding you up, you might not have been able to stay standing.

Looking down at where Bucky was devouring you, he looked back up at you with a lot less dominating intensity in his eyes than you were used to seeing.  Not that you minded; after all, no one could do what Helmut did as well as he could, but maybe Bucky could do something different, and it would be just as enjoyable.  His tongue lapping at your clit was certainly wonderful so far.

Sam guided one of your hands back behind you to stroke his cock, your mouth falling slack, which he took advantage of by turning your face and capturing you in an open-mouthed kiss.  You heard your moans stifle against his tongue, felt his cock flex a bit as you smeared the precum you found at his tip.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Helmut interrupted, and everyone turned to look at him.  “Darling, come here,” he instructed with a curled finger that pointed to the bed, “hands and knees.”

You nodded and pushed the other men away, taking your place on the bed and looking up at him as he held your jaw gently.

"How long has it been since you had another man inside you, lutka?" he asked lowly.

"I can't even remember,” you admitted, “it's been so long…"

“Are you willing to try it?” he asked gently, no hint of domination or pressure in his tone, and you found yourself searching his eyes for the right answer.

“What do you want?” you asked him instead of answering.

“Draga, I’m asking what you want,” he reminded you, but you were afraid he would be hurt if you showed interest in the other men.  Sure, previous evidence indicated that wasn’t an issue for him, but your gut instinct was to deny your attraction.  So, you compromised. 

“All I want is you,” you answered first, “but…”

“But?”

“But is it awful if… if I want them to fuck me, too?”

He smiled, kissing your forehead.  “No, I don’t think so.  Only as awful as it is that I want to watch them fuck you.”

You looked up at him and smiled back, brimming with gratitude that he was so gentle with you.  It was fascinating how he wielded complete control over you and yet never used it against you.

“I have one rule, draga,” he added firmly, “you cannot come for them.  You only come for me.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And stay on your hands and knees, so I can always get a good look at you, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He kissed you one more time before pulling away and sitting back in the chair in the corner with his ankle over his knee, looking at Sam and Bucky expectantly.  Every chair he sat in seemed to look like a throne as soon as he was in it.

“Well, get on with it, then,” he instructed, motioning to you.  The men looked at you and looked at each other before some kind of silent agreement took place and Bucky stepped up first.  Sam sat down to watch you as you felt Bucky stand near the bed behind you, flesh and metal fingers running over your back until you shivered.

Then he pressed his cock against you, coating himself in your wetness, and that made you shiver, too.

You braced yourself as he lined himself up, whimpering slightly as he pushed his cock into you as well as hearing him moan lowly.  The hand at your waist tightened as he hissed in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck," he breathed, holding you still so he could fill you completely.  “S’tight…” he slurred.

“How does it feel for you?” Helmut asked you, raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, your mouth fallen slack, yet your brow furrowed.

“It feels… different,” you stammered your answer.  You gasped loudly as Bucky started to move, and yes, this was very different.  His cock was curved differently and though it didn’t exactly reach any new parts of you (you were sure Helmut had already touched every part of you physically accessible), it did stroke them in new ways.  

He gained speed rather quickly, clearly too on edge himself to stay patient, and you didn’t blame him although it sent you moving faster toward the edge than you would’ve liked.  At first you wondered if it would even be a challenge to keep from coming like Helmut had demanded… you chided yourself internally for ever being so hubristic.

His legs pushed yours apart, spreading them wider, and he began to really fuck you in earnest, fast and needy and each slam of his hips against your ass harder than ever.  “O-oh fuck,” you choked, forcing your eyes shut and scrunching up your nose for a second when he slammed the tip of his cock right into the deepest spots inside you.  This position left you with nowhere to go, put your whole body on display for him along with giving you no escape from his onslaught of pleasure.  Worst of all was that you were pretty sure he wasn’t even trying that hard to make you feel good, and yet feeling used like that only turned you on more.

"Bucky, please, slow down," you whimpered.

"Absolutely do not do that," Helmut interjected sternly.  "Don't let her tell you what to do."

And, possibly just to spite you, he actually fucked you faster.  You sobbed and bit down on your lip, fighting everything building up inside you.

“You’d better not come,” Helmut warned through his teeth, “you’d better not fucking come.  You know how bad it would be for you if you came for another man.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you nodded.

But Bucky was slamming right into your spot, and he knew it, too. He knew how desperate you were becoming, and apparently, he didn’t mind at all that you’d be punished for it.  He leaned down to growl against your ear, “I know how close you are.  Don’t you think it’d feel so good to just let go and come on my cock?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as the force it took to hold back your orgasm became painful.  “No, it would only feel good to come for Helmut…”

“C’mon baby, just stop fighting it and come for me,” Bucky taunted, “squeeze me tight with that sweet little pussy; I know you need to so bad.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you blinked with teary eyes up at Helmut and wanted nothing more than to please him and make him proud of you.  “Please, m-make him stop,” you begged, “I won’t be able to hold back anymore…”

“He’s not going to stop until he comes, lutka, and you need to stay strong,” he explained, his voice soothing you slightly.  “You need to be my good girl.  Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

Bucky held your hips tight as he pulled your body back onto his cock, and you forced your eyes shut to try to focus on not coming.  No other man had made you come in your life but Helmut, and you had no intentions of breaking that streak.

“Think you can make me come before I make you come?” Bucky challenged.

“I have to,” you answered breathlessly.  “And I want you to come… I wanna make you come so bad, Bucky, please…”

“Mhmm?” he encouraged.

“Please, I want it, please come for me,” you whimpered.

“Fuck, I will,” he promised darkly, fucking you even harder.

Helmut interjected a brief instruction: “Pull out.” 

Bucky nodded a little, breathing heavily as you felt his cock throb slightly, especially at the base where each movement stretched you out even more.  It was so beautifully erotic and you were tensing every muscle inside you to try not to come, which helped speed him up quite a bit since you were gripping him so tight.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, “fuck!” 

He pulled out and instantly painted your back with a roar, sliding his cock over your ass as he pumped stream after stream of come onto you.  You sighed happily, satisfied that you had managed to stave off orgasm with perhaps only a few seconds to spare— you’d never been so happy to make someone come before because this time it brought relief that you had done well for your Baron.

Then again, you always felt that way when you made the man himself come, but this was different because you had been moments away from failing him.

Speaking of the Baron, he stared down at you proudly the whole time, kneeling down slightly to swipe his finger through the cooling spend on your back and bring it to your open lips.  “Mm, you really are my perfect little girl,” he mumbled as you sucked his finger diligently.  But he turned his attention away from you to call out across the room, “Sam!  It’s your turn.”

Your eyes went wide.  “W-wait, Helmut, I’ll come!”

“No, you won’t,” he hissed, eyes darkening again, “because I told you not to.”

And Sam was already behind you, taking Bucky’s place who had already cleaned himself up a bit and returned to his seat, letting the Baron pour him a drink which he gulped down in one go.

When Sam pushed into the end of you, your natural instinct was to arch your back up to try to keep him from going too deep, but he growled and pushed your back down again with a strong hand that made you feel so small for a moment.  “No, baby, no running away… you’re gonna take it all.”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathed, yelping a little when he roughly shoved in that last inch.

From then on, he went much harder on you than Bucky had, spanking you and gripping your ass while he fucked you, and the most embarrassing part was how much harder it made it to keep from coming.  It was clear that he realized making you come would give him power over everyone else in the room for different reasons, and he was determined to gain that power.

“Does he fuck you this good, huh?” he groaned.  

“He fucks me better,” you shot back right away, making Helmut chuckle slightly.

“If your plan is to make her switch allegiances, you’ll have to do better than that,” Helmut taunted, and Sam doubled his efforts as one hand pinched your clit and the other groped your breast.  You almost lost it right there but managed to pull yourself together, your whole body shaking with the effort to keep the pleasure at bay.

“Well, if he can fuck you better then why doesn’t he?” Sam continued his leading questions, even though you could barely keep up a conversation at this point.  “Why does he keep pimping you out to us if he’s fucking you right all on his own?”

“Don’t you understand?” you breathed, your head falling down onto the bed as you were almost able to look back enough to see his face.  “This is my punishment.  He knows I don’t want anyone else; that’s why you’re here.”

Sam smiled, perhaps in pity, and yet you honestly had to close your eyes because his smile was so lovely that it could’ve brought an end to your restraint.  “Poor thing, he’s really got you whipped.  I… still can’t believe I’m doing this, but you feel too good to stop now.”

He yanked your head back by your hair for emphasis, making you yelp as he fucked you brutally.  Your toes curled and your fingers dug into the sheets, and you had to close your eyes because the way Helmut was staring at you made this all much too difficult.  Maybe it was just that he didn’t seem jealous at all, or angry; but he didn’t seem like he was getting any excess pleasure out of this, either.  It was… almost neutral, but something burned behind his eyes brighter than maybe you’d ever seen it, his legs crossed and his fingers interlaced as he waited for you to either hold or break.

With the top half of your body fallen limply onto the bed, you reached out above your head and felt Helmut’s hand grab yours, squeezing slightly, and it helped keep you grounded as you held his fingers.

“Oh fuck, ‘m gonna come,” Sam groaned out his warning, “gonna cover this pretty ass in my come, you want that?”

“Yes, please,” you shuddered. 

“Keep begging for it,” he demanded, rushing his words as you felt his cock start to throb against your walls with his impending orgasm.  

“Please come, please come, please come on me, Sam, please,” you chanted, over and over, struggling not to come and hoping that if you could speed him up, then you could make it.

He grunted through his teeth as hot ropes of seed covered your ass; though your body was left wanting, dangling on the edge so close to your release, your mind was satisfied that you had managed to follow your Baron’s rules.

Sam stepped back to admire his work, finding another spare robe to cover himself with as he rejoined the other men across the room.

“Would you like a drink as well?” Helmut offered to Sam, unfortunately letting go of your hand in the process.  Sam was still catching his breath, running his hands over his short hair as if he was processing everything.

“No, but are those cigars up for grabs?” Sam replied, pointing to the ornate box propped open, and Helmut nodded.

“Of course; what’s mine is yours,” he answered, presenting the box and lighter to him.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Sam added flatly, the three of them all looking at where you were sitting, covered in come and waiting patiently for your next command.

Just as you feared they’d all have their cigars and whiskey and ignore you completely, your Baron knelt down to look at you face-to-face, smiling proudly.

“You did so good for me, darling,” he cooed, and your insides clenched as if you could come just from hearing that.  “You don't think I'm horribly cruel, do you?"

"No, sir," you smiled weakly.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised with a kiss to the tip of your nose as he stepped away to the master bathroom.  

You glanced at the other men— Bucky with his crystal glass of whiskey, Sam puffing at the cigar stoically— and wondered what, if anything, you could possibly say.

“So, how’s your weekend been so far?” Sam asked you plainly, breaking the silence.

“It’s only Friday night,” you realized, sighing as you tried not to imagine how much debauchery the Baron had in store for you.  Right now you were so exhausted that it sounded like too much work; and you were so desperate only for Helmut that the idea of anybody else being involved intimidated you.

Helmut returned quickly with a washcloth, sitting beside you on the bed and placing it gently on your back.

“As pretty as you look covered in come, I’d rather not make too much of a mess,” Helmut explained as he wiped you down with the damp cloth, your skin tingling and your body crying out for more of his touch.

“Will you fuck me, sir?” you mumbled, somewhere between an honest question and a desperate plea.

“Yes, I will,” he answered, making you hum happily, “and I’m finally going to let you come.”

You bit down on your lip, trying not to moan just from hearing that.

“But I’m not going to let you stop.”

The lump in your throat was impossible to swallow, but you tried anyway as he tossed the rag away and circled the bed, standing behind where you were laying limply.  He grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down to where he needed you, covering your body with his as he kissed the back of your neck slowly.

“I bet you’ll come the moment I’m inside you, draga,” he whispered.  You nodded in agreement, gasping a bit as you felt his cock teasing your swollen, sore pussy.  Just the tip bumping into your clit was enough to make you think you could come right there, you’d been on the edge so long.

But then he pushed into you in one stroke, not rough yet enough to reignite the soreness of being filled by two men already, and your walls started to pulse around him.  A million words swirled in your mind, words about how perfect he felt and how you’d missed him so much and how no one could fuck you like he could, but none of them made it to your mouth where you could only moan loudly.

He wrapped his arms around you, he kissed everywhere he could reach, and waves of pleasure washed over you until tears filled your eyes.  You lost count immediately, coming on his cock over and over as you became a limp, whimpering mess right away.

“You two really did miss out,” Helmut taunted the other men between his own moans, “it feels so fucking amazing to be inside her when she comes.  She gets tighter every time… blyat, so tight I can hardly control myself.”

It was already hot to hear him speak to you like that in these moments, but for him to speak to someone else, to keep you from forgetting that you weren’t alone and that these men had just fucked you and were watching you come right now?  You hadn’t even imagined before what that would be like.

“Please, please, sir, please,” you chanted, your voice breaking until you could barely whisper.

“What is it that you want, lutka?  Do you even know what you’re begging for anymore?”

“I want whatever you want, sir, please,” you cried.  He reached around your body to rub your throbbing clit, and you all but screamed.

“I know you do, beautiful, I know,” he breathed, kissing your back and shoulder tenderly to calm you.  “I love you so much, draga, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I love you too, Helmut,” you whispered, “more than anything.  I love being yours.”

“Aw,” you heard Bucky briefly sigh.

“Dude, shut up,” Sam corrected him harshly.

“It’s sweet!” Bucky defended.

“It’s weird; this is all so weird,” Sam frowned.

“You didn’t seem to mind before…” Bucky trailed off.

Two of Helmut’s fingers swiped over your open lips and you immediately sucked them into your mouth with a satisfied hum, the taste of his skin always comforting you.  When he rolled you onto your side, it was so much easier for him to touch you wherever he wanted and it only did more to keep you overwhelmed with pleasure until you worried you couldn’t take much more.  But you kept sucking his fingers, tears still falling which he occasionally kissed away, until he took his hand away to wrap around your neck instead.  You nodded a little to let him know it was okay to choke you, and your loud moans fell to sudden silence when he tightened his grip.  

It made your eyes roll back, it made your walls flutter and your toes start to go numb, it made you wonder if you were going to pass out whether or not he let you breathe again because your body was already ready to give in.

You sucked in a gasp when he let go, sobbing his name as a particularly deep thrust knocked you right into your peak again.  He kept one hand on your neck as the other reached between your legs to play with your abused pussy as he fucked it harder than ever.

“I can’t come anymore,” you assured, shaking your head and trying to push his hand away from your sore clit.  “I— I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, draga, I know you can. Just relax and let me keep making you feel good,” he instructed, somehow both gentle and demanding all at once.

“I… I can’t…” you breathed, nearly incomprehensible between thick sobs, but you were already coming again in spite of your words, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body from the inside out.  He choked you out into silence again, praising you all the way through it.

“There you go, shh, it’s all right,” he soothed, “you’re so beautiful, darling, so good for me, just keep going…”

You reached back to lace your fingers into his hair and tug, which did nothing to deter him from kissing your neck just beneath where his thumb gripped it, same as your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist didn’t stop him from quickly rubbing your clit.

Breath filled your lungs when he let go, and you were so desperate for relief that you felt like you weren’t even in control of your words anymore.

"Please come inside me," you begged mindlessly, "please, I need you so bad, please…"

“Is that what you need?” he groaned.  “You need to be full of my seed?”

“Yes, please, want it deep in me— fuck, Helmut, please!”

He growled and bit your ear lightly, mumbling his promise to fill you up in Sokovian— sometimes you thought he spoke Sokovian when he was about to come because he was so distracted that he forgot English, but you didn’t think that at the moment because you were currently too cockdrunk to think about anything.

His low moan echoed right through your body as you felt his cock flex and throb with each pump of come, just as deep as you’d wanted, and you sighed happily at the familiar feeling, finally relaxing into the mattress.

But perhaps you relaxed a little too soon because he made you come one more time after he’d filled you, whispering something about he wanted to use your pussy to milk every drop from his cock, but after that finally he pulled out, and you collapsed face-down onto the bed, ready to pass out even though the sun was only just beginning to set and you’d slept until noon earlier.

“Well, I think we sufficiently knocked her out,” Sam chuckled.

“‘We’?” Helmut repeated, sounding a bit offended yet bemused as he redressed.

“Okay fine, you did most of the heavy lifting, but only cause you wouldn’t let her come for us,” Sam relented with a frown.

“I swear, I was this close to getting her to break,” Bucky interjected, sighing before taking another slow sip of his (third) drink.

“Yeah, what would’ve happened if one of us made her come, anyway?” Sam wondered aloud.  “She seemed pretty worried about whatever punishment you had in store for her.”

“Nothing too terrible,” Helmut shrugged, “I just would’ve fucked her in the ass.”

Bucky choked on his whiskey as Sam tried and failed to suppress a smirk.

“She lets you do that?!” Bucky blurted out between fits of coughing.

“She lets me do whatever I want,” Helmut replied, “I’m surprised that hasn’t become abundantly clear to you by now.”

“I guess we’re still adjusting to it, that’s all,” Sam explained.  “I don’t know about you,” he looked at Bucky, “but this is new for me.”

“I was born in 1917; everything is new for me,” Bucky frowned.

“Well, this is new for us too,” Helmut assured, “especially her, she was so inexperienced when she met me…”

He paused for a moment to reminisce before glancing at you lying prone on the bed and looked totally fucked-out.

“But look at her now!” he finished.  “She takes it all in stride.”

“Yeah, she’s a trooper alright,” Sam agreed.  “Be careful with her, Zemo, ‘cause I think if you hurt her too bad, Bucky here is gonna be waiting in the wings to steal her.”

“I— what?!” Bucky snorted defensively.

“Don’t think we can’t see you giving her googly eyes, not that I blame you or anything… getting deepthroated for the first time will definitely make you catch feelings,” Sam smirked before taking a puff of the cigar again.

“It’s not like that, I’m just… listen, I guess I’m just a bit more conventional than you perverts,” he frowned.  “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, I just can’t imagine having a girl like that all to myself and letting anybody else lay a finger on her.”

“Not everyone is as insecure as you, James,” Helmut shrugged.  “Women can’t be stolen.  They can only go where they want to.  And she wants to be with me.”

He turned back to ask you if you agreed, but you were already fast asleep.  Smiling slightly, he grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and unfolded it to drape over you; you instinctively cuddled up under it without waking up, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Goodnight, draga,” he whispered with a kiss to your forehead.  “Rest well, you’ll need it for the morning.”

[a-libra-writes]

How the Peaky Blinders React To You Being a Jazz Singer

In This Preference, You’ll Be Singing To: Tommy Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, Ada Shelby, Polly Grey, Michael Grey, Esme Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Lizzie Stark, Isaiah Jesus, Luca Changretta, Aberama Gold

THOMAS SHELBY

True to his reputation, he’d be interested in you right away, and that would inevitably grow to infatuation. Tommy would come to see you towards the end of your shift, when most of the customers are passed out and you’re sweetly crooning in a room of smoke and spilled drinks. He’s ready to drive you home, ignoring any questions about why he’s awake in the wee hours of the morning. Don’t be surprised if your club is suddenly bought by the Shelby company, especially if your boss wasn't treating you well. Tommy claims it was just a good business decision, since you’re popular and the club is close to their territory, but you know him well by this point. You’ll be well protected by guards and he often visits during your rehearsals, always looking tired and a bit lonely. Tommy's clearly relaxed by your singing, though maybe encouraging his advances isn't for the best.

ARTHUR SHELBY

No surprise, he takes a liking to you right away when you’re hired at his club. When you’re performing, he gets distracted, especially when you’re croning a love song in the wee hours to a bunch of drunk, passed-out patrons. In the corner of your eye, you’d notice Arthur looking at you like you’re hanging the moon. He’d die if you smiled at him during that. He’s incredibly protective of any weirdos trying to catcall you or grab you while you’re singing; he’ll grab them by the collar and throw them to the street or just bash their faces outright. The thing is, Arthur quickly learns your everyday personality is much different than your stage persona … and it makes him nervous to talk to you when you’re not working. You being so close and personal, not distant from the stage, makes him far more bashful.

JOHN SHELBY

The club you ended up at was always a favorite of his, and it was made even better by your singing. Eventually he stopped bringing his rowdy men around because their hollering and whistling began to piss him off - though he laughed his ass off when you threw a drink at one and continued your song. When it’s much later in the evening he’ll visit, since it brings John some peace, especially after a hard night of following Tommy’s orders. He’s too embarrassed to approach you at first, though it’d be easier if you worked for a Shelby club. He’d have an excuse to talk to you, for one. His crush would be painfully obvious, though he’s far more comfortable when he meets you outside the club. Conversation and jokes come more naturally.

ADA SHELBY

You two met by chance outside of work, and tonight she was finally coming to see you sing. That's when her little attraction turned into a full-blown crush. While Ada isn't big into jazz clubs, she's into you, so she'll visit several nights a week. Once you both are close, she insists you stop by her place after work, when the sun is just coming up. She gets up to let you in and brews you some hot tea to soothe your throat before you both fall asleep in bed. When you finally agreed to work at a Shelby club, Ada wanted it extra protected. She's ready to raise hell with her brothers if they think about starting something stupid at the club you work at.

POLLY GRAY

While Polly enjoys visiting the club you perform at, she warns you about the job in general. There are plenty of entitled men that could harass you, not to mention all the idiot drunks and brawls. Before long, you’ll be employed at a Shelby club to get some “proper” protection… though Polly will still ask you to carry a knife or a gun. Her protectiveness aside, she likes to tease about what you're wearing for the night, especially if you've a habit of getting ready at her place. When you're performing she likes to give you winks and knowing looks in the hopes you'll get flustered. If she’s had several drinks, she’ll whistle.

MICHAEL GRAY

He’s not the type who likes to be smitten with people right away, so he’ll swing between trying to impress you and trying to distance and be aloof. Michael finds your performances relaxing, even if the other club guests ruin it with their noise and loud drinking. Because he wants to avoid that crowd, he shows up early during rehearsals or very late in the evening, when you’re about to quit for the night. Even before you both are an item, Michael is protective and might hire an extra bodyguard for you. He waves off your concern by insisting all Shelby club employees are kept this safe (they aren’t, and he gets jealous of the guard anyway). Michael’s feelings are so obvious to you, but he’s too proud to admit it, even when he’s driving you home and buying you flowers and leaving nice gifts in your dressing room.

ESME

She doesn’t understand why you put up with that noisy, smokey club, with all those men that stare and try to make a move the second you step off stage. She prefers when you both sing together, outside in the sunshine or under the stars. When you come home after a long night of singing, she wakes up early and gets you in a nice bath or snuggled in bed. She’ll keep the house dark through the day so you can sleep. Esme understands you need to sing to eat, but you shouldn’t work your pretty voice until it’s hoarse!

ALFIE SOLOMONS

He doesn’t visit these kinds of jazz clubs that often; it’s not Alfie’s scene, but he closed a deal in one of them. You were singing that night, and it was the only pleasant part of the evening. So he sent flowers. The next time you received flowers, it was because his men and Sabini's tore up half the club in a brawl. The third time he figured he should deliver them personally, and that's when he walked you home, too. Afterward you suddenly had a job offer in Alfie's part of town, and sometimes you'd spot him while you rehearsed. Alfie only flirts and chats when you approach him first. He doesn't want you to feel indebted or intimidated, especially since your singing really does relax him.

LIZZIE STARK

As much as Lizize loves to hear you sing, she worries about the weird men you might encounter in the club. She urges you to carry a weapon when you’re going home, or she just walks you home herself. She enjoys helping you with make-up and dressing before a show, it feels sweet and personal, and keeps her mind off any unpleasant men that might bother you in a few hours. It’s not just that they annoy her and make her worry for your safety; she gets pangs of antsy jealousy when they’re all staring and drooling after you. She’d never tell you that, though. When you come home in the wee hours of the morning, Lizzie wakes up just to give you a hug and an exhausted good morning before falling back asleep.

ISAIAH JESUS

Isaiah stumbled into the club you sing at by accident, and he wouldn’t call it love at first sight… But he does swing by nearly every other night to watch you perform. You’d start to recognize his grin and starry eyes, and even during slow nights, Isaiah would be there. He’s had some trouble with your boss because he’s quick to cause trouble with the drunks that try to harass you, but eventually you two got to talking. Isaiah was the one to talk you into joining a Shelby club because it’s safer and you’d be paid better… and he’d get to see you more. He’s pretty embarrassed by his friends teasing about his crush, but he’s undoubtedly smitten by you.

LUCA CHANGRETTA

He was a huge flirt from the start. You didn’t even work at one of his clubs, he was invited there as an exclusive guest by some New York politician, but his attention was taken right away. After a second visit, he sends a fancy bouquet. After the fifth, it’s a gold bracelet with some diamonds. Luca likes the ego boost of you looking his way and recognizing him in the crowd, and eventually he’d invite you to work for one of his clubs - especially once the one you’re at gets involved in a gang brawl. Word spreads quick that anyone making a ruckus while you sing is getting thrown out… and any idiot that tries to approach you after the show is getting a hand or nose broken. He will melt if you sing in Italian or Spanish.

ABERAMA GOLD

He’s not a regular visitor to these fancy, noisy clubs, but Aberama will make an exception for you. He loves your voice, though he much prefers hearing you hum to yourself as you get ready for the evening’s set. It’s probably for the best he doesn’t watch you sing too much, because the moment a drunk catcalls you or tries to get on the stage, he’s got them in a chokehold and politely suggesting they leave. But no matter what, if Aberama isn’t working, he walks or drives you home, no matter the hour you’re finished with work. If you work at a Shelby club and there’s some drunk or brawl that causes you trouble, he’ll absolutely give Tommy grief about it.

[captains-simp]

Carol Danvers ~ Infuriating

Carol Danvers X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 8,016

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

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God you definetly did.

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

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

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

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

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

"They almost did anyway."

"Almost."

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

Once a vigilante always a vigilante.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Carol!" You protested in disbelief and annoyance.

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

"Like hell I will." You groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No." You lied shakily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who are you begging to make you cum?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why should I let you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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