#i feel like boundaries break down and i have to remind myself to be normal

[amber-angel]

Pros of hyperfixation fading: no more worries about idolizing actors because I like their character choices. No more random sad spurts because I can't interact with the interest in any meaningful way

Cons of hyperfixation fading: where seratonin :(

[afreakingdork]

Deep Dive: Rise of the TMNT Donatello's Bad Boy Persona, His Cute, But Mean Type, and Why He is None of These Things

I made this presentation to delve into my take on Rise Donnie!

It was a power point, but I'm going to break it down here. I do want to preserve the first slide though because...

Did you know Black dahlia's aren't actually black? They're very dark red and in flower language they represent dishonesty!

Apropos, let's get into it...

Donnie is a Bad Liar

We see this throughout the show

“No? No… Of course I did… n't.”

"Uh, nothing. Just having a typical normal mystic free day."

"We are just typical, normal humans who got lost in the middle of our normal, everyday human lives. Nailed it."

"Oh man. Uh. This hurts me. Uh. I'm very sad?"

He has all the characteristics of a terrible liar. He sweats, his pitch warbles, his eyes dart, ect, everything you would expect.

Sarcasm! The Perfect Cover?

When Donnie does go for the use of sarcasm, he almost always points it out.

"I feel better already," he said without a hint of sarcasm."

"Oh, sure. Let me just load my tap-into-every-security-camera-in-New-York app. I'm sorry if that sounded like sarcasm, it wasn't. I am in."

Point Out the Obvious Much

However, when he doesn't point out the sarcasm, he also can't help but make mention of the oxymoron. We see this a lot, especially in Donnie vs. Witch Town.

"Oh yes very cool says Donnie as he quietly lets something go."

"Ooh, fireworks. Science never would have thought of something it was originally inventor of."

So basically, if Donnie tries to lie; he gives himself away. If Donnie tries to fudge the truth; he's compelled to make note of it.

I bring this all up to specifically tackle this sentence:

“So unfair. Although it is a boost for my emotionally unavailable bad boy image. “Y’ello.””

Why do I do so? Let me remind you of my first slide...

But how can that be? We just established that he's a bad liar. In the 'bad boy' line, he's not falling for any of his tells. He's body language gives no indication of lying. He doesn't make any note of sarcasm. No one after this line makes a face or corrects Donnie and he doesn't point out any discrepancies.

How could this be a lie?

Because Donnie himself doesn't know it's a lie.

Let Me Take You Back

Things I Did Unironically as a Teenager

Added Japanese honorifics to the end of my friends nicknames (-san, -chan, -kun)

Had my friends help me wrap myself up in caution tape for my birthday, but told people they made me

Wore a dog collar with a dog tag that had my name in Romanji on it

Had screen names like RubyBlueSango62 and blahweeblah626

But That’s Just Personal Experience!

Things Donnie has Unironically as a Teenager

"Ah, yes, so in this case a game of bask-eh-ball."

"Prepare to eateth thy words."

"Oh, hey guys. What’s the haps? Huh? Oh, oh this? I didn’t realize I had it on. This is my sweet new purple satin jacket- Got it from being a bit of a tech wiz. Purple Dragons. Members only. No big deal. Mm-hm. Well, you better grab some toast, fellas, 'cause you are all jelly!"

“It's Bootyyyshakker9000. Capital B and three Ys in booty.”

I believe it's a universal experience for teenagers to push boundaries. For so long, most parents decide everything for you. With hormones and growth, you want to experiment, but since autonomy is new, you try to break from the mold and do it uniquely. Anything that is outside your norm, especially things that swing wildly from what you once new seems especially exciting. From embellishing speech, to wearing specific clothing items, and even your first screen name, you don't know boundaries! It may be 'cringe' in the future, but when you first do it, it seems like the coolest thing ever! It's something that wholly represents you. This online space you. This you that is ungoverned! I'm an only child so I can't imagine, but I bet you especially want to do this when you have siblings. Where the shame in that?

I mean... Kat Haynes agrees with me on this...

Low Empathy

Now to get a little more serious. Alexithymia is a term that describes those who have difficulty feeling emotions. While not always associated with autism, it is more common in individuals with it. About 1 in 5 people who have autism also have alexithymia.

As already stated, it is clear the Donnie suffers from alexithymia. Most Donatello-centric conflicts in Rise have nothing to do with Donnie being emotionless and instead often deal with him lashing out due to his confusion or insecurities. We see this a lot especially in Witch Town where he is grappling with himself the entire episode. He's insecure about how he doesn't understand mysticism and he doesn't know how to process it or his place on the team. He's not emotionless, he's insecure when he doesn't understand something.

"Yes, feelings. Hot, cold, sleepy, hungry…"

"I don't normally feel things, but that one got through!"

Emotions on his Metaphorical Sleeve

Nothing about alexithymia says that you don't feel emotions. Instead, it's characterized by not understanding them. Donnie feels his emotions big and large just like Mikey does and especially if something is important to him, you'll see those reactions dialed up to eleven.

All Talk

While many think of the classic "semi-lethal" line and the "Speak for yourself" when Mikey says they aren't savages in regard to Donnie, he's not really the bad boy he plays himself up to be. When the theatrics are set aside, most of Donnie’s snap judgements are the altruistic kind or he thoughtfully plans out ways to not only take care of his family, but actively ensure their safety (to varying degrees of success, but that's not what we're saying here):

created devices which both counteracted his brother's flaws because they were getting them hurt

Used himself as a shield for Mikey on multiple occasions 

Risks his own safety and bodily harm especially in Turtle-dega Nights: The Ballad of Rat Man and Breaking Purple

Builds Escape pods for everyone 

Enters a sensory nightmare for the sake of the world

Often asks, especially Raph, if he's okay and looks out for the oldest brother

Yet the Presentation Continues?

Why yes, because there is another line of Donnie's that I want to tackle that I believe falls exactly in line with the 'bad boy image' one...

"Oh, you’re so cute, but so mean. Why do I always go for your type?"

You know what I'm about to posit again...

Insecure

As touched on previously, Donnie is insecure. He's insecure about his emotions. He's insecure about his place on the team. He's insecure about anything he doesn't understand and his insecurities are exceedingly personal in nature because he ties them intrinsically to his personality.

"The real thing is much more personal and thoughtful, and I really hope you like it, ‘cause if you don’t I will just be crushed!"

"This’ll teach you to compliment my work and give me my first positive reinforcement from a parent aged adult, ever!"

Speaking of parent aged adults... i wonder where this could stem from...

Role Model

Who do all the turtles model themselves after, but their own father? Whether they knew it or not, Lou Jitsu was someone they all strived to be like. They commited to learning all the lines from his movies. They fought like him outside of the training course Splinter sets them on. Heck, Donnie takes his hero worship so far that his character defining brows are exactly Lou Jitsu's! Babies start learning how to establish social and emotional relationships around 18 months. We have Splinter, a despondent, but loving care giver who unfortunately did not give Donnie the validation he craved. This manifests in his insecurities where he bends over backwards to get the attention he craves. He wants to be seen, again compounded by having three rowdy mutant-powered brothers, and so he ends up tying his worth into his ability.

Now, while for a majority of the series, the turtles don't know about Splinter's past or that he dated Big Mama, but it wasn't as if Splinter hid that part of himself away so obviously. In fact, because he himself is still mourning his lost humanity, he ends up feeding his son's a hardy diet of his life's existence. The boys are secondarily raised by Lou Jitsu movies in place where Splinter is not always present. Obviously, Lou Jitsu seemingly disappears, but Splinter's feelings on the matter don't. He openly still cares about Big Mama in the present and this I don't think it's a stretch to say that he would let these feelings leak in a similar way to how he presents Lou Jitsu in the boys lives. Big Mama is a attractive, albeit manipulative woman. This is awfully close to a little line someone says, especially when we consider that he models himself after this man.

Also, if we're taking models into account. Something we know for a fact shapes teenagers. Something we know for a fact that Donnie does. Something that is equally canonized in the show, then we have to talk about.

Donnie’s True Canonical Idol

That's right. You know her. You love her. You believe that Donnie is a thigh man because of this Lass' existence. Donnie says flat out that Atomic Lass is his childhood idol. He goes to great lengths to dance with her, smashing Leo out of the way. He then even goes so far as to ask if her and Atomic Lad have split up because his intention to date her is so clear. Now she was obviously a mutant in a costume, but that didn't matter because he loves Atomic Lass that much and Atomic Lass?

She's a heroine.

Only cute and mean in the context of the episode, this is not the Lass he fell in love with. The Lass he loves is a comic book hero that travels the universe doing good.

Also....

Ron Corcillo Agrees With Me

A staff writer on Rise, I apologize I can't show the origin tweet because it was deleted, but it was a dual question that asked both about the Turtles meeting Spider-man and about Donnie's preference. Now you could say he's forgotten a line that may not be as important to him, but doesn't that in and of itself say something? It says that it could have been a one-off joke or that it wasn't something that was necessarily intrinsic to the character.

To Recap:

Donnie doesn’t always know himself

Donnie is a cringey teen

Donnie is insecure

Donnie has difficulty understanding emotions and himself

Donnie isn’t actually an 'emotionally unavailable bad boy'

Donnie doesn’t actually like the ‘mean’ type

Sources:

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles episodes:

Mystic Mayhem

Donnie's Gifts

Pizza Pit

Hot Soup: The Game

Shadow of Evil

Donnie vs. Witch Town

The Mutant Menace

Breaking Purple

Turtle-dega Nights: The Ballad of Rat Man

End Game

Repo Mantis

Mascot Melee

Donnie's Gifts

Bug Busters

War and Pizza

Goyles, Goyles, Goyles

Lair Games

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Movie

lactoseintolerentswag's post on Rise Characterizations Pt. 3!!!

skulltrot's Donnie (Rise of the TMNT) | Autism Representation in Media video

Ron Corcillo's tweet from Cartoon Brew's Feb 10, 2024 AMA

Alexithymia | Autistica

earthytzipi's post not understanding why people characterize Donnie has hiding his emotions

hyperfixatinator's post about ROTTMNT Theory: Donatello's Hidden Role

[prettyoatmeal]

pls pls pls pls pls

i need more FWB simon 😭😭

We're Just Friends (FWB!Simon x GN!Reader)

A/N: You need it anon, you got it!! I need to write more hurt/comfort because damn I loved writing this. Post anon is referring to.

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis: You and Simon have established a friends-with-benefits relationship. But the boundaries set in place keep getting overstepped. Your brain his confused, Simon's heartstrings are getting pulled back and fourth, and it isn't exactly your fault. Simon's in denial, and that barrier slowly starts to break.

Word Count: 770

Masterlist here!

***************

"You seemed awfully touchy with others tonight."

"Simon-"

"I don't like the way they were looking at you."

"Are you jealous?"

He grumbled against your skin, feeling his lips pressing small kisses along the crook of your neck through the fabric of his mask. Pushing you further into the countertop in front of you, his grip on your hips was becoming more possessive by the second.

No matter how many times you would tell him, it seemed like it didn't really matter. You two weren't a couple, you're allowed to do your own thing, even if you weren't really trying to. He had a bit of a habit of becoming too touchy or affectionate to your liking in regards to your arrangement, and now it was especially showing through after a little get-together at his flat.

"Relax, they weren't looking at me in any way. And I'm allowed to explore my options."

"I know.. jus' like you to myself sometimes. That's all."

This was becoming too confusing. For yourself, and for him. You'll push him away, remind him your situation isn't longterm, that you're doing this for him and that if someone comes along then you're allowed to pull out. But you couldn't help but think that maybe there was something more that he wasn't telling you. No matter how many times he'll deny it, it was getting a little obvious.

Too obvious.

The way you unintentionally tugged on his heartstrings over and over again, the effect you had placed on him was getting too much to ignore.

Pulling the infuriating fabric of his mask down and breathing in your scent with a long sigh, it was clear he wasn't going to let you go. Not yet at least. Placing the small porcelain dishes into the sink which you had been holding, you turned the tap on to start cleaning them. May as well make yourself useful if you weren't going to move, the clean smell of his dish washing liquid filling your senses.

But as his face nuzzled further into your soft skin, he couldn't get enough of you, his hands gripping at the flesh of your hips, squeezing your waist and pulling you as flush against him as he could. He didn't like the dish washing liquid drowning you out. He was becoming needy, mumbling a few words which only become muffled against you.

But you already got the feeling you knew what he said.

"Don't-" You warned. But he didn't want to listen, cutting you off.

"Please, lovie," he lifted his face from your neck just enough so you could hear him, "please stay. Just one night, just tonight."

He sounded upset almost, his pleading voice lingering with something more than just neediness.

Normally this would've gone no where, but something was telling you to stay. And you weren't sure if it was yourself, or the forces of nature. You knew that accepting will only play with his heart further. You were cruel for promising him you'll stay. But how could you say no to him sounding so sickeningly desperate.

This was getting unhealthy.

"Fine," you answered him reluctantly, "but just this once."

You were pulled away from the sink, and in a matter of minutes, the make-out session had ensued on his bed. A bed that smelled so comfortingly of him. You expected the usual -sloppy kisses followed by your guts getting rearranged by the behemoth of a man on top of you. But that wasn't his plan.

His lips moved slowly against yours, kissing you in the dimmed lights of his bedroom as if he loved you, and left your heart and head confused.

"Need you," he whispered against your plump lips, "I need you like.. like this." laying next to you, his arms wrapped around you with his head pressing against your chest, "please."

All you did sigh and hold him close. It felt wrong. You hoped this wouldn't also become a habit, burying himself closer to your warmth.

"This wasn't part of our agreement."

Silence. His arms around you tightened.

"You're playing with my head."

Silence again.. but this time it was followed by a muffled grumble into the fabric of the Nirvana shirt he gave you for pyjamas, which was considerably oversized on you. Throughout his protests, you could make out a small whine of 'I'm sorry'.

And with a sigh, you reach over to his bedside table to turn the lamp off, cradling his head closer to you as you placed a small kiss on the top of his head.

"Goodnight, Simon. Sweet dreams."

***************

<33 happy November 21st! <3

[dangraccoon]

Jari'eyc - Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Word Count: 2214

Warnings: stress, migraine, Cid is a shitty boss, suggestive themes at the end

Mando'a Translation: uja - honey/sugar

« Previous Chapter Next Chapter »

Tech had been observing Hunter all morning. He almost seemed at war with himself- going through the motions as though it were a normal day, but every so often a burst of irritability would break through. 

“You have a migraine,” Tech noted when the others had finally cleared out of the galley. 

“Oh, do I?” Hunter snarked. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Tech scowled. “You should take something. Perhaps you should lie down as well.”

“It’s not going to work, Tech, you know that.”

“Well, I highly doubt that it would hurt. It may at least help a small amount, which would be better than-”

“I get it, Tech,” Hunter growled.

Tech watched his older brother press the heels of his palms to his eyes, feeling somewhat powerless. 

“Perhaps we should check is there is any of the mix Jaine made left-”

“No,” he barked, slamming a hand on the table and instantly wincing at the loud noise. He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

Tech didn’t reply. Hunter knew his younger brother would forgive this; Tech knew how the migraines affected him. 

“How can you just… say her name like that? How can you think of her without any-”

“It’s not without emotion,” Tech corrected. “I feel the… hole left in the fabric of our squad. I have found the adjustment rather difficult. I have noted that I- I miss her, quite… dearly.”

“Tech?”

“She was a member of this squad before she betrayed us. At the end, I found that I was quite angry with myself that I spent so long wishing her out of our lives. Now that she’s gone-”

“She’s not gone,” Echo whispered, having appeared with Crosshair at the doorway. “We’re going to get her back.”

Crosshair scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Get her back? Echo, do you have a screw loose? She doesn’t want to come back. What she wants is to see us all dead or imprisoned.”

Tech watched his twin carefully; Crosshair didn’t speak much about Jaine anymore. In fact, to Tech’s recollection, Crosshair had only referenced her once in passing when Omega had asked about some of the left over supplies in the medbay. 

“Something isn’t right, I know it,” Echo argued. “She wasn’t acting like herself.”

“Maybe that was the first time she was! Maybe, just maybe she’d been lying to us all from the beginning. She wormed her way into this squad, but she never liked us, never cared for us, never loved-” Crosshair’s voice broke and his gaze dropped to the floor. “We’re better off without her.”

They watched as Crosshair quickly left, his words weighing heavily over them. Echo sighed deeply, turning to leave the ship for a while.

The sunlight warmed his skin as he stopped to take in a deep breath. He’d been debating with himself if he should reach out to Crosshair. He’d lost a loved one once too. It wasn’t the same, and he knew that, but his heart still ached for his brother. 

And, if he were being truthful, himself. It hadn’t taken him long to realize the pull Jaine inflicted on him. Her smile, her laugh, her touch; she was magnetic and after all, he was rebuilt with metal. 

He knew very well the boundaries: you don’t touch a brother’s cyare, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have eyes. Above all else, she had been kind to him. She remembered him and his twin from years prior, she told him that she’d mourned his loss and then Fives’ as well. She was sympathetic to his story, but she didn’t pity him, she didn’t treat him like he was breakable. 

She reminds you of me, a familiar voice always whispered in his head. He tried to shake that voice, but it always came back. 

“Echo!” Omega called, just coming into view with Wrecker. 

“Hey, kid. What mischief have the two of you gotten into today?” he smirked, willing the memories back into their box. 

“Mischief? Us?” Wrecker laughed, earning a suspicious glance from Echo as he knelt to let Omega jump down from his shoulder. 

“We just went into the city and there’s a festival tonight,” she grinned. 

“Oh, really? What for?”

“I’m not actually sure, but Movri said there’s going to be music and lights and food!”

“Wait, who’s Movri?”

Omega’s eyes went wide for a very brief moment. “Movri is Wrecker’s… friend!”

Echo eyed the large man, who was quickly turning a deep red. “Wrecker’s ‘friend’?”

Wrecker laughed awkwardly, before glancing towards the Marauder. “I think Hunter’s calling me, I better go see what he wants.”

Echo chuckled as he watched Wrecker dart into the ship. “Tell me more about this ‘friend’ then,” he grinned. 

Omega smiled, leaning closer and whispering conspiratorially. “He’s so nice! He runs the Sugar Planet stand in the market. He’s really good at making Wrecker laugh and I think Wrecker really, really likes him!”

“Really?” Echo smiled, ideas for reading his brother already starting to flow through his mind. 

Omega nodded. “I think he likes him more than a friend.”

The two shared a very serious look before bursting into a fit of giggles. 

—

“You’re late,” Cid noted, placing her data pad down on the desk. “Again.”

The hooded person scoffed. “Your intel was incomplete again.”

“Did you get the data or not?”

Irritation roiled off the figure. “Yes,” she said, gruffly. “It’s encrypted.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve got a guy for that.” 

“And my cut?”

Cid glared up at her. “It’ll have to be split.”

The cloaked figure all but growled. 

“Oh, stow it. You know if you can’t finish a job alone you don’t get the full pay.”

Cid leaned forward, picking up a small comm device. “Goggles, get in here.”

Moments later, the door slid open, revealing Tech, still engaged with whatever was on his data pad. 

“You commed,” he said, not bothering to look up. 

“Blue, this is Goggles. Goggles, Blue.”

Tech finally looked up at the hooded figure, meeting her eyes. Despite the shadow her hood cast and the armored mask that covered the lower half of her face, Tech could make out some details. Dark blue skin - no, it was some kind of paint, and her eyes; one light brown, one cybernetic, both scanning Tech with a scowl. 

There was something about the man that struck a part of Raze’s memory. She was sure she didn’t know him, but there was something in the structure of his face and the way he carried himself that was eerily familiar. 

“Raze,” she grumbled through the voice modulator in her mask. 

“Tech,” he said cordially. 

“Goggles will take the data stick and decrypt it. He’ll get half your cut, too.”

Raze’s head snapped towards the trandoshan as if to protest, but Cid interrupted. 

“I can make it more,” she sneered. 

Tech heard Raze’s jaw click shut. 

“That’s what I thought. Now both of you, get out.”

As they left, Raze glanced around the room. More people had arrived, all wearing similar armor to Tech, except for a young girl, who was playing - and winning - a game of dejarek against a large man. 

“Is there a problem?” Tech asked, paused a few steps ahead, turned back to face her. 

“No,” she answered gruffly. 

Tech led them to a booth near the back of the parlor, occupied by another man in armor who bore a striking resemblance to Tech. 

“Who’s your new friend?” the other man drawled, toothpick stuck between his lips. He was watching them, his eyes scrutinizing every detail. 

“This is Raze,” Tech reported, sliding into the booth. “Another associate of Cid.”

“How nice.”

“This is Crosshair,” Tech informed her. 

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Raze answered flatly. 

Tech held out a hand. “The data stick.”

Raze reluctantly reached into a pocket on her thigh, pulling the data stick out and placing it in his hand. She crossed her arms over her chest. “How long is this going to take?”

“The encryption is not very heavy, it should only take a few moments,” Tech replied. 

Raze heard a bit of a commotion behind her. Turning, she saw that the child had won the match of dejarek, much to the dismay of her large opponent. One of the men watching laughed, the other was watching her curiously. He was paler than the others with small pieces of metal poking out of his head. That odd sense of familiarity struck her again, stronger than it had with Tech. 

They locked eyes for a moment, almost daring one another to look away. The stalemate was quickly broken when the girl ran up to him, chattering happily about something she couldn’t hear. 

“I have finished decrypting the data,” Tech informed her, holding the data stick out toward her. 

“Are you clones?” She asked bluntly before she could think better of it.

“Problem?” Crosshair scowled. 

Raze eyed him suspiciously. “Not at the moment.”

“Will you be turning in the data stick or shall I?” Tech cut into their silent glaring. 

“I’ve got it,” she huffed, snatching the data stick from him. 

She stalked across the room, catching the eyes of the other clones as she did, only losing their attention when the door to Cid’s office closed behind her. 

“Clones, Cid?”

“What about ‘em?”

“Didn’t expect you to be working with the Empire.”

Cid scoffed. “They look like they’re with the Empire to you, Blue?”

Raze eyed her, trying to get a better read on their relationship to her. “Can’t be too careful with that kind.”

“Like my safety matters to you,” Cid rolled her eyes. “Did Goggles finish with the data or are you just here to piss me off?”

Raze scowled, passing the data stick to her. 

Cid nodded, throwing a few credits towards them on the desk. 

“That’s not even a third of what you told me.”

Cid grinned sickeningly sweetly. “Maybe if you were on time and didn’t need help you would’ve gotten the full amount, but the price went down while you fucked around.”

Raze snatched the few credits off the desk, turning to leave, but the door wouldn’t open. 

“What do you say?” Cid prompted behind her. 

Raze huffed. “Thanks.”

As the door opened, she saw that the girl and the other clones had joined Tech and Crosshair, all squeezing into one booth to talk quietly. The kid saw her first, smiling and giving a little wave, the rest noticing and looking up to watch her. 

Raze glared at her, before walking quickly out the door. 

At the table, something like recognition thrummed in the back of Echo's brain, calling to him as his brothers talked around him. He pushed it away, a small chill traveling down his back. 

“Echo?” Wrecker prodded at his shoulder. 

Echo shook his head. “Sorry, what?”

“I just asked if you knew anything about Raze,” Hunter said, watching his brother closely. 

“No,” Echo answered, a little too quickly. “I don’t think so.” 

Hunter’s eyes narrowed, but he seemed to accept the response. He could feel the others' eyes on him, sure they accompanied variously confused expressions, so he just cleared his throat, looking down at the table. 

“As for our next order of business,” Tech interjected. “Omega mentioned that there was a festival this evening.”

Omega perked up. “Yeah, Movri told us all about it!”

“Movri?” Hunter mumbled. 

“Wrecker’s friend,” she whispered to him, a wicked grin on her face. 

“Yeah, there’s supposed to be lots of lights, and good food,” Wrecker chimed in, his face becoming hotter by the second. 

Hunter’s eyes narrowed at his brother, who was painstakingly avoiding his gaze. 

“Can we go, Hunter? Please,” Omega pleaded, pulling on his arm just a little. 

“Don’t see why not,” he shrugged. 

—

“Festival in the city tonight,” Raze’s roommate called as she entered their tiny apartment. 

“Heard about that.”

“You wanna go?” he asked, appearing around the corner from the refresher. He had a towel around his waist and he was still damp from a recent shower. “Could be fun.”

“What I want is to get out of this get up,” she groaned, rolling her eyes as she finally removed her hood and mask. 

She set the mask down on the tiny kitchen table, depositing her gloves with it. 

“I can help with that,” he smirked, sidling up behind her. 

She sighed a little as his arms wrapped around her waist, his touch sparking electricity under her skin. 

“Stars, you’re needy,” she scoffed.

“You were gone,” he mumbled into her neck. 

“It wasn’t that long.”

“Three weeks.”

She rolled her eyes again, pulling away from him. “Yeah, three weeks only using a sonic; I must be disgusting.”

“We can take a shower,” he suggested, grabbing her hips in that way that always made her head spin. 

“Didn’t you just have one?”

He shrugged, his signature crooked smirk falling into place. “I could take another.”

He dipped his head down, pressing a soft kiss against her lips. 

“Forn,” she whispered as he pulled away, her eyes still closed. 

“There’s no one else here, uja, you can use my real name.”

He pressed his lips to the space just below her ear, the one he knew would always drive her crazy. She moaned, her head falling back. “Stars, Fives.”

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Thanks for reading! - River

Jari'eyc Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form

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[glasswinggames]

How do they express their jealousy?

I'm assuming this is from the perspective of how they'd express jealousy regarding a partner/companion e.g. someone was flirting with them in front of the interests etc.

If I'm wrong I'm sorry 😅🙏

Athy - She's a little odd in that she has definitely been jealous before, but she doesn't... understand that's what it is? So she doesn't really express it? She's just kind of like, 'huh... that feels uncomfy... I should go read to distract myself until I feel normal again'. Reading is how Athy processes 99% of her emotions, the other 1% is letting off steam through fighting--

Cai - They are far too secure in themself to feel jealous, it would be super difficult to make them jealous and if you tried they'd either think it was cute, or if you went too far they'd just cut you off, because they expect a certain level of loyalty. They do like making others jealous though--

Helios - He always looks very stern and icy, but when he gets jealous, it somehow becomes even more so, as he will try to hide it, especially in public because he doesn't want to break social rules and ettiquette... but if he is pushed too far, then he will intervene and make it very clear, in no uncertain terms, to whoever is pushing their luck, that they should probably leave before he makes them leave... through the window /hj, and then he takes his partner away, ignoring the inevitable gossip that surrounds him from such a declaration.

Il - Hahaha... haha... ha... 😰 he's gonna bottle that up inside so that you can never tell anything is wrong, as he subtly and smoothly removes you from the situation/away from the person in question, until he can go off and... 'handle' the cause for his jealousy later without you ever knowing. Though, the one change you might notice is him showering you with even more love than usual, and whispers of how you're his. 😌

Jed - He is oddly possessive of those who he considers 'his', and it's been a while since he's had anyone that fit that spot in that void where his heart should be. When he gets jealous he kind of goes from 0 to 100 real quick, there's that moment when his ever present toothy smile just... drops. He handles it about as well as you'd expect a serial killing monster to handle jealousy tbh. Which is not well. At least for the person flirting with his partner that is. Once he'd handled them, full of adrenaline and bloodthirst, he'd whisk his partner away to remind them exactly who and what they are with.

Farren - Judy is gonna hit you with a frying pan-- /silly. She stews, you'd be able to tell she was annoyed, but she wouldn't verbally express it for a while, but you'd be able to tell on her face she wasn't happy. Once she has processed and felt her emotions she would sit her partner down and have a super mature conversation about boundaries and how you both can handle these situations going forward in a healthy manner.

Eos - Someone is getting punched. When I say someone it'll be the person flirting with their partner. It's almost funny because they insist they never get jealous, but they are a very emotionally reactive, and are likely to react first think after. The only situation where it might be different is if their partner was deliberately trying to make them jealous and was the one doing all the flirting, they'd still be annoyed, but they would at worst threaten the other person and make it clear that their partner is taken.

Noah - If someone was flirting with his partner and they didn't seem into it, or seemed uncomfortable, he would be right in there to help them, and with the sweetest smile he'd get the other person to leave. Kill em with kindness kind of thing. If his partner was flirting back, or the one flirting, he wouldn't do anything, he'd just bottle up his feelings and put them in the same place as his self-doubt and his feelings of guilt, and he'd brace himself for his partner to say they chose someone better than him. (He needs a hug... and probably therapy, but let's start with a hug--)

Thank you for the question! ☺️🦋

[rapturefury]

Healing trauma and more…

This is a bit more personal, but the harsh reality is, most people have some sort of trauma they carry. I myself have seen people whose problems I can’t tell, really - so I wouldn’t say that everyone is broken or badly damaged, but it’s the case very often.

I’m no psychologist or a therapist to explain trauma – the definition doesn’t matter as much as what we actually experience. We can rationalize it, but this doesn’t destroy it. In fact, for me, every time I learned something was trauma, who caused it and how, I was so disgusted and I didn’t know how to face the person who was, more often, involuntarily behind it. At that moment I would feel my brain is not functioning and is in complete shock, because I’ve been compromised in a way. And by compromised, I don’t mean to follow and believe things someone taught you are right or wrong.

Behind trauma, things are actually really dark.

I cannot share an example, because it’s triggering. And I imagine a traumatized person stumbling upon this entry – I wouldn’t risk causing more damage. I did heal a lot of trauma and according to my therapist – I’m fine, and I feel that way. My life really changed for the better, which for me is always a sign I’m moving forward.

But how do we heal trauma actually?

If it’s possible, I would always recommend professional help, because trauma is no joke. My therapist's schedule is fully packed, so most of the time I did it myself, but honestly, I was scared during those moments. Because I felt all the wrong in my head – the shock, the disgust, the complete block. I would usually not be able to even think or ask “why me” or “how could this happen”. I could only see that, most often but not only, my parents have damaged me and the consequences were still with me and I’m an adult now. I saw how much painful situations were caused by living with trauma and not knowing it. What’s worse – some of these caused more, different trauma. Since I experience complete shock when I discover something like this, I just instinctively hang on and pray – to God, to myself, to just not break down. And it’s different every time – sometimes I would cry, sometimes not. Most often I would just sit with an empty look and accept what has happened, as bad as it is. And it’s bad, because usually it’s something from our childhood - being an innocent child, and your parent – a full-grown adult who should be there to protect you, but actually did the exact opposite. It’s scary when you look at the situation through a child's innocence.

My parents always did what they believed is the best for me and to this day we still talk every day, they still support me and I care for my family. I'm not reminded of the moments of shock when I speak to them, because

I did it – I’m healed! But at what cost?

Reaching that point of being healed, with established boundaries, being myself, understanding what I want and so on, actually destroyed the connection with the old – toxic and damaging world. With that, I was left with almost nothing. The security it gave me was no longer, and I was in front of a single door to the unknown future, and it was the only option. I couldn’t not open it because life goes on, I needed to act to survive at least, let alone follow my dreams and all that. It became harder to connect with people, because we don’t have common wounds anymore. Of course I was not alone, I have my friends, and people talk to me. But I felt lonely because a long time had passed and I couldn’t experience a deeper connection with anyone. And loneliness is caused purely by the human need to be connected. It’s not something you can heal because it’s actually normal. I was connected to myself because I understood very well what was going on and gave myself the time and space to go through this. After all, there was nothing I could do, but the whole experience was also traumatizing, I felt helpless. But this time it was not my parents’ fault or anyone else’s – it was the child in me, that was forced to leave “home,” – the damaging reality it knew, along with the people it was used to.

And the dilemma was, is it better to be healed, but lonely; or not heal and stay connected.

But… actually I myself felt better and I couldn’t look back. Not that I could go back, but I didn’t want to anyway. I don’t want to be like these people I left behind, I don’t want to live as I did before. All I had was my faith in God, in life, that somewhere are people who I will connect to. At this point, I have found a connection that’s different from friendship and romance, but it’s inevitable – I changed, and so has what’s deeply fulfilling to me.

It may look obvious for me now, and perhaps from the outside, that healing pays off indeed, but it comes with so much change in mentality and emotions. And I imagine for someone who doesn’t come from trauma, recently at least, these are normal and nothing extraordinary. But for me, it’s a completely different world.

[mental-health-advice]

I recently cut off a friend (we are both close to 30) because she was draining me emotionally and refused to change her behavior when I addressed it, but now that time has passed I am still grieving this friendship and need to know if I did the right thing.

For the past 2+ years this friend has obsessively texted me from the moment they woke up until they went to sleep, almost every day. This was easily over 30 texts a day. We had been friends for a while when this started and she was going through a bad break up and trouble at our mutual workplace, so at first I thought she was just reaching out during a crisis. But it never stopped and it just became normal to me.

This person is not my closest friend by several people, but the texts became more and more emotionally intimate - just constant updates about what she was doing or feeling during the day - all of her emotional ups and downs. It didn't matter if I ignored the texts, they just kept coming to the point that while on vacation with my family they asked me to mute her because it was visibly "ruining" my time off.

I admit that I didn't realize how odd this was partly because this started during peak COVID when a lot of people, including myself, were isolated and reaching out more, and partly because it was flattering that someone seemed to care so much about my opinions and wanted to talk to me so much.

But she seemed to fixate on me more and more. She made a private twitter account and asked me to follow it - it ended up just being me following it and none of her "best" friends. She used this twitter to share even more of her emotions including intense emotional and sexual thoughts about people she wanted to date. She also began texting me pictures of journal entries and I didn't know how to respond.

I finally realized how one sided this relationship was when she cut me off in the middle of telling a story about a work-related milestone that had just happened and was really important to me because she wanted to talk about her upcoming first date with someone she met on an app. I sat on that feeling and decided to address it with her. I told her at a private lunch that I felt we had fallen into a pattern where she relied on me for emotional support and intimacy. And that I didn't feel she always considered my emotions or what I may be going through before messaging me. I told her that I was going through a lot at the moment (abusive boss, family illnesses - all things she was aware of) and that just because I don't express it the same way that she does that doesn't mean it's not taking a toll on me. I said that I was happy that she was finding joy in dating again, but I would like a boundary where we don't talk about the ups and downs of each date. I would be happy to meet this person when she wants me to or be there for her if there is something serious to discuss, but it is a lot for me to be there for all of the emotional ups and downs of dating on top of the other things she texts me about as well as my own personal struggles unrelated to her.

At first she apologized profusely and said she was being a bad friend, which I denied because she couldn't know that something is upsetting me unless I tell her. I just asked that in the future could she please consider my feelings or what I may be going through before messaging me. She then proceeded to ignore me in person for over a week, but would still text me about herself, never asking me about myself. This made me feel used and I started to ignore her in return.

However, I felt that I had to give her time to adjust to the boundary and asked to have lunch again to check in. She said she was avoiding me because by asking her to consider her behavior in the future I reminded her of our abusive boss (who has objectively and publicly lashed out at me in ways she has not experienced). She also said that I was invalidating her dating efforts because she only wanted to talk to me about it. She said that there are things she only tells me and her journal.

I apologized, but afterwards I just felt angry. I felt it was manipulative to compare me to our mutual abuser. If she didn't mean to be manipulative, then it at least demonstrated how she can't think about my feelings because she cannot see how much our boss has abused me and how that might affect my feelings separate from her. I didn't appreciate being compared to a journal, but I realized it was an accurate comparison. I feel that she has treated me like an inanimate object who should hold her feelings but have none of my own.

She kept messaging me - again just about herself, never asking about me. I responded but didn't give it the same energy as before to distance myself. I didn't try to engage with her in person but neither did she - she never asked to have coffee or lunch like we used to. I got the feeling that she expected me to make things better, but I didn't feel the need to do that work for someone who doesn't think they should have to think about my feelings - especially after I went through the effort to be direct about what was upsetting me.

I am mourning the closeness I thought I had in this friendship and the way it made me feel like my thoughts mattered. But the more I look back, the more I realize this friendship was about me being there for her feelings with very little reciprocity. I feel guilty, but I also don't think it's fair to be assigned as someone's caregiver. I wanted a mutual friendship, not to be a mom or therapist. I was on call for her emotions - and she expected me to be - for over two years. I asked her to be more considerate about my feelings and she couldn't do it for one week. But then the guilt says, did I ruin everything?

Hey there,

After reading your Ask I do not feel as though you were in the wrong for the decision that you made to cut contact with this friend at all. It is fairly evident that you did everything that you could have to ask her to be a bit more considerate to yourself and to also try to put a few boundaries into place. This is and was a really positive step to take on your behalf as friendships should not just be one-sided which is what it sounded like your friendship with this person was. With saying this though, it is quite normal to grieve the loss of this friendship (no matter if it was toxic or not) and to question yourself on if you did the right thing or not in the actions that you took. Try to be kind to yourself though, as I know how hard it can be with a one-sided friendship and how it can play on your mind and make you feel like you were the bad person in ending the friendship when in reality you were just doing what you needed to do for you and to enable yourself to work through your own life struggles to the best of your ability without being bombarded by someone with what they were going through as well. I guess what I am trying to say is that I personally feel as though you did everything right for you and that you acted in ways that you personally needed to at the time, and there is nothing wrong with doing this at all!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren

[ina-nis]

Whenever I feel sad about being “alone” I just need to remind myself that I’m actually an awful person who hides behind (and boasts about) my treatment without any actual progress to show others.

It’s kind of funny though.

I’m used to only “attracting” “damaged” people on either ends of the spectrum (”abusers” or “victims”), and with the treatment and all the work I’ve been putting on myself and on my recovery I, somehow, decided that I’ve had enough of damaged people - it’s exhausting enough dealing with one 24/7, myself, why the fuck would I subject myself to even more???

So, then I “remove” myself from an entire group of people and, of course, that doesn’t end well because every single person in the world is damaged in some way or another!

The issue I had is thinking that, if I’m here doing all this bullshit to get better, why the fuck should I settle to be around people who will either hold me back, or keep me going in circles around the dysfunctional pattern I’ve been trying to break. That doesn’t make any sense!

The depressing part is knowing that most people are not willing to work to “get better” because coping is “good enough” for them, numbing themselves is “good enough”, doing anything to not think about or feel the pain is “good enough”... facing the pain and trying to address might feel like an impossible task so the alternative is always better.

Maybe if I had stayed “damaged” I wouldn’t be dealing with these issues at all - I’m sure I’d never find out I have AvPD, for example - maybe I could’ve found a job I could work, maybe I could’ve finally found a partner, maybe even make some local friends too.

I wouldn’t be here today. My life could’ve been different living in that hell.

I realized I deserved better and went after it...

... And that reminds me of one of those CBT things that always made me so extremely upset: about wanting more, about never settling down, and how that will only make you unhappy and unsatisfied over time. The “correct” answer is to try to thrive with whatever you have, live today and make the best out of it and, fuck me, if I fell for this mindset, I’d still be trapped in an abusive situation. This is absolute horseshit.

Maybe it is bad that I think I deserve better, maybe I’ll always try to aim higher and move goalposts and just be generally unsatisfied with life because nothing is good enough the only problem with that is that I don’t exactly have a lot of “things” to start with. Aim higher from where? Move which goalposts? I’m unsatisfied with my life because what exactly isn’t good enough?

Is it really that I’m making my life so much harder because I’m looking for The One (even though I know for a fact that doesn’t exist), when what happens in reality is that I have needs and boundaries that apparently are too out of reach for all these “mere mortals”, and in my head, all this stuff feels actually tame and very reasonable?

I remember seeing a video of a person talking about all the things they’d not accept in relationships anymore, and talking about their non-negotiable boundaries and the comments really hit home for me: a bunch of people making fun of them, saying that was all a “laundry list of demands” and that this was the reason that person was single. Excuse me but if I were to meet someone who would belittle my feelings and say some shit like that I’d never tell someone to fuck all the way off so fast.

If you don’t have standards, if you put your bar on the fucking floor and take whatever you get, that’s on you. I’m done and through with this. It took me several years to put myself together and try to undo even if a little bit all the damage that was done because I acted like this, thinking that was “normal”.

This is not normal, nor healthy.

I want to get better. I guess it would make sense to be around people who want to get better too. We’d all be on the same page and I guess it would flow much better.

I still didn’t find such people, at least no one who was available as a date, unfortunately.

And, well, that goes back to the first point I made: I’m an awful person who hides behind my treatment. It’s kind of hard to have anything else going on when said treatment is so exhausting.

But things keep going I guess.

[lifeaftertheabuse]

I saw a video today that really just hit home for me. Basically the video was talking about how we gaslight our own selves after the abusive relationship is over and this can’t be more true. I’m constantly having moments where I am telling myself maybe the abuse wasn’t that bad or maybe I was the problem.. maybe I was the crazy one .. maybe I was too sensitive and about things?? Then having to remind myself of specific scenarios that happened that weren’t normal.

Like screaming through the house at 6:30 in the morning when everyone is sleeping because I forgot to wash your work clothes for you that weekend. Imagine a 40 year old man so mad that someone didn’t wash their clothes for them? I worked all weekend.. he was home. It slipped my mind but their YOUR work clothes. And why are we yelling? That isn’t going to help right? Telling me I’m useless… I’m lazy.. I don’t do anything.. when I’m the only one who does anything.

Or when I didn’t order the pizza the way he wanted me too one day when we were out to eat. He called me fucking retarded.

A dumb stupid idiot. I heard those words come out his mouth so many times. I eventually put a boundary up. If you call me stupid again “I’m done” and shockingly he stopped, but then he just found other ways to make me feel stupid and small. His favorite line “how did you get a college degree and I’m smarter than you.” Now looking back I know that was all part of the plan. To make me feel small and stupid so I don’t leave.

But that’s not me. I have a voice. I’m not timid. I have opinions and that’s okay but not for a narcissist. They want you to fit into their perfect plan the way they want. They don’t want to hear your opinions, your emotions. They don’t care. My ex always said “I was attacking him” when I would be talking so calmly just saying what I was feeling but the reality is they can’t handle hearing what their doing wrong because then it takes away from the “perfect” persona they’ve created not just to the world but in their own sick heads. I never realized being self obsessed was a part of narcissism until I was doing my own research and it just all made sense. Always stairing at himself in the mirror.. always having to have the most expensive clothes and shoes.. always talking about other girls staring him as if he was just so handsome they couldn’t take their eyes off him.

But I just sat back and watched it all unfold. I remembered everything I could. I tracked it all in my brain. And when I knew I had to leave I formulated a plan in my brain. I gave myself months to make this happen to make sure it was what I really wanted. I stopped arguing back. I submitted to him. I took months of verbal abuse. I cried for hours. Some days things were amazing and I thought okay I do want this and then the same day he’d say something so mean and I’d have to re remind my brain what the plan was.

It wasn’t easy… walking away was one of the most difficult things I’ve done aside from leaving a physically abusive relationship 8 years ago. Isn’t is crazy that the pain im feeling from this relationships isn’t even comparable to the one I felt from that. Emotional and mental abuse really doesn’t get enough awareness of the damage it does. How it breaks us down. How we feel stuck to this person even after substantial time has past.

Going back to what I said in the beginning about gaslighting my own self in to believing the abuse didn’t happen.. it’s important to remember at least for me that it did happen. That I didn’t make those situations up. The words he spoke to me were real. The hurt I felt was real. The loneliness I felt was real and when you love someone you don’t treat them that way. One day at a time I will get through this. I will heal and I will be me again ❤️

[ghost-is-pan]

S/0-1… I loved them at their worst.

I was always there for them, regardless of what i was going through too at the time.

As soon as my mental health got to a new low, not only because of them, but of other relationships going to shit, they leave because i wasn’t enough.. for 4 long years they lied to me multiple times, cheated on me that i know of twice, & says IM the one who’s inconsistent & not loyal.

I at least told them i was going to do something before i did ANYTHING physical with him.

They made me feel like if i left, they’d relapse. the reason they even started to harm themselves was because i was taken from my home & had to leave.

during a huge portion of our 2nd to 3rd year of our relationship I had to initiate conversations, remind them of things they said..

they dissociated & was at their worst. I stayed because i knew they could be & do better.

When they did start to heal they got snippy with the fact i kept interrupting them, didn’t give them anytime to comment, that i was basically talking to myself.

I worked on it & got better within a few months, hard to break a habit you had going for over a year.

it took so long, but i thought that was normal. no one’s progress is the same right?

how come someone with the SAME fucking issues, if not arguably worse.. got better within a couple of months? if not weeks?

They are my first love, & my only for the longest time, then we both found other people to comfort us that we found another love in.

I tried to be polyamorous, i tried to have good communication with them, but EVERY time they brought up their person & i would match energy talking about mine.. THEY’D get upset with me for talking about it excitedly.

The fact that multiple times i had to push myself to give them a turn after fucking so it was fair, the amount of times i didn’t want to & they got noticeably frustrated & verbally aggressive.

they mentioned that the after care that i asked for, within reason, made them uncomfortable, because of their own reasonings, because it was gross to them. they made up for it in other ways, but it took them venting that to me after a particularly rough night that made me break.

i broke down, the wording they used made it sound like i had only ever convinced, or forced them to consent, i felt like i had only ever made them uncomfortable or assaulted them.. i couldn’t stop saying i’m sorry & they got so worried.

Because i’m not the type to cry, if i do it’s quiet & my face is hidden. Never that noticeable. that was the only time i could think of that they saw in person how bad i can break..

i’ve been trying to cry more, & trying to be open with it more. But it’s hard.

at this very moment, i don’t know if we are together anymore.. they said they wanted a break & are taking one. They didn’t tell me any boundaries they have with it, or how they want me to execute it. I gave them till this Friday to tell me what they are. I’m texting them less & only responding when they text first.

I don’t know how to feel that 4 years of my life are gone, because of an obligation i made to someone who clearly didn’t feel the same way…

[moonmargaritas]

It’s in the tags but tw for self injury. I’m also going to be expressing some very not correct feelings about mental illness and neurodivergence because I’m furious right now and need to vent my frustration. Also as a reminder, if any of my followers don’t want to deal with my BPD rants, I try to tag them with #vent.

My 22yo sister who still lives at home tried to self harm last night because my parents are insisting on taking over her money so she’ll actually save instead of blowing everything on junk food and in game purchases. I know that sounds like an incredibly abusive thing to do, and normally I would vehemently oppose a measure like that. But she was supposed to move out a year ago and she’s taken zero measures over the past three years to grow up and deal with her problems (she has autism and ADHD in addition to depressive issues).

She has to be harassed to do her chores (cleaning litter boxes nightly and sweeping and mopping the kitchen once a week) and shower daily. She blows all her money on fast food despite my mom being totally willing to cook all her meals. She has medication for the depression and ADHD but has to be nagged to take it. She was in therapy but wouldn’t do any of the work her therapist gave her and completely wasted her time there. She’s entirely unwilling to implement any of the coping mechanisms I’ve suggested to her from my own experiences with ADHD and depression.

My parents have been incredibly patient and have done a really fantastic job of listening to my advice and educating themselves on neurodivergence so that they can support her and gently push her without damaging their relationship with her or traumatizing her. But she sabotages everything they try to do to help her and then cries about her problems when they sit her down for their twice yearly come to Jesus.

I have BPD and ADHD. I’m no stranger to the suffering neurodivergence can create. It feels like a brick wall between you and your goals. But she’s banging her head on that wall and then crying about how her head hurts and she isn’t getting anywhere and she’s so tired, and then she turns her nose up when I offer her a ladder to get over it or a map to get around it or a sledgehammer to help her break through it. I don’t begrudge her for not being neurotypical, but I’m so exhausted and enraged at her refusal to accept any kind of help.

And now we all have to deal with worrying she’ll hurt herself, because that’s gone from an abstract fear to a present reality. She’s decided to put that on all of us instead of growing a goddamn spine and getting her fucking shit together. (I know that’s not the “correct” or compassionate way to view self harm, but I’m venting my feelings here.) And I’m just so tired of dealing with her. I’ve drawn boundaries with her and my parents are good about respecting me when I tell them I don’t have the mental space at the moment, so I have measures in place to protect myself. But I’m close to my family and I can’t fully avoid it.

I am so beyond happy to support my loved ones when they’re having a tough time. But this tough time has lasted for three years, and I’m not gonna lie, it absolutely enrages me to see her cry about how hard her life is when I’ve been dealing with issues just as severe as hers if not worse while also pulling 70 hour weeks between working full time to support myself and going to school for these past three years. This period has been absolute hell for me, and all she’s been doing for most of it is school and a part time job while living at home with almost no necessary expenses. I know people have different capacities and I’m stronger than most, but it hurts so goddamn bad.

At the moment I’ve opted to distance myself because I don’t trust myself not to lose it on her and make things worse. I know pushing her away isn’t great, but I figure it’s better than screaming at her about being a weakling and a burden.

Anyway. Just needed to scream into the void for a bit.

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it��s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[purplelupins]

Obedience

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

FARGO set in season 3

Pairing: V.M. Varga x reader

Warning: nsfw, swearing, mentions of sexual harassment, smut, Varga is so hot but gross and if you don’t want to read about it move along.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Working for Stussy Lots LTD. was supposed to be a stepping stone for y/n in her career as a business woman. Being a receptionist with the duties of an intern, however, barely filled her desires.

Getting coffee, making copies, while also answering the phone, greeting guests and aiding Emmit Stussy and Sy Feltz in their general work while also being office eye candy was not on her job description. But in sleepy St. Cloud, Minnesota, there weren’t a lot of options for a business grad student. So y/n sucked it up, and kept her head facing forward.

“Good morning Mr. Stussy. Here is your morning coffee, and you have two messages.” Y/n sat the coffee down on Emmit Stussy’s desk and handed him the two pieces of paper.

“Thank you.” He responded absentmindedly. Emmit took a sip of the coffee and immediately spat it out, “What the hell is this? Milk? I told you yesterday that I’m taking almond milk from now on. Stella’s orders. Do I have to do it myself?” He barked at her.

Y/n lost any pleasant expression her previously had. “My apologies, sir. I’ll make you a fresh cup-“

“Don’t bother. You’ll just mess it up. Go make copies of these documents and geez the phone is ringing, aren’t you going to answer that?” Emmit was an asshole. Y/n hated him.

“Right away sir.” She gave him a tight smile and took the documents before striking back to her desk at the front and picking up the phone, “Good morning, Stussy Lots LTD. How may I help you today?”

And that was how most days went.

The low hum of the copy machine almost put y/n to sleep. She watched as one after another after another paper popped out the side. Y/n was snapped out of her daze when her hairs stood on end suddenly.

“Ah good morning y/n. Looking lovely today.”

Sy Feltz. Y/n loathed him. A pig.

“Good morning Mr. Feltz. Thank you very much sir. “ She cringed. Then she felt his hand graze her bottom and she wanted to vomit.

“How could I not say something?” He have her a smirk under his thick moustache. Normally she didn’t mind facial hair but his reminded her of how his breath stank of alcohol during holiday parties and how he would always find a way to feel her up. Between him and Emmit she had an encyclopedia of violations of company policies and marriage boundaries.

Y/n gave him an uncomfortable laugh and grabbed her files as fast as she could and walked back to Emmit’s office to drop them off. Then. Ack to her desk to manage appointments and try not to break into a sob; her education feeling beyond wasted.

She didn’t remember how many times she tried to complain, but every time Mr. Stussy backed up Feltz and he said he didn’t know what she was talking about.

Just another day.

-

“Good afternoon, Stussy Lots LTD. My name is y/n, how may I help you?” Y/n stared at her computer as she set up another appointment for Sy and their lawyer. Seemed they were meeting a lot lately. Y/n placed the phone down and when she looked back up, she almost jumped out of her skin. Staring down at her was an exceedingly tall man with an eeri smile on his face. He was gaunt and tired, his teeth were crooked and needed a good brush. But he was a new face and that was welcome.

“I apologize sir. I didn’t see you there. Good afternoon! How may I help you?” Y/n gave him a nice smile. Before he could respond, Emmit came out from his office in a rush and plastered that shit-eating smile on his face that showed too many teeth.

“That’s alright, y/n I got it!” He waved her off, “What can I do for you friend?”

“Mr. Stussy. What a day. What a day!” The man responded, y/n liked his voice. It wasn’t harsh, and his accent was pleasant, “I was hoping to show the boys the new office.” He said.

New office?

Emmit looked lost and uncomfortable all of a sudden, “The-?”

“It’s this way I believe?” The man began walking past y/n down a hall before he quickly turned back and said, “Thank you my dear. Good afternoon to you too.” And with that he went down the hall to where there were indeed empty office space.

Emmit quickly leaned over y/n’s desk and whispered, “Call Sy.”

Y/n nodded and picked up the phone. Something was happening. And y/n could tell that no matter how much he pretended, Emmit didn’t know what was happening and he had zero control.

She smirked internally as she dialled the phone number for Sy. Karma is a bitch Mr. Stussy.

She could hear him down the hall trying to talk to the tall man and his associates, but to no avail.

“Hello Mr. Feltz, Mr. Stussy has requested you come to the office immediately.” She spoke calmly.

He stuttered on the other line and hung up quickly.

Y/n no sooner placed the phone down and the elevator doors opened again. Men with dolly’s of files and boxes wheeled in past her desk. Y/n stood slowly and looked at them. She could hear Emmit down the hall.

“Stop! We have rights!” He cried.

She stifled a laugh.

“Emmit, Emmit, you’re making a scene.” The tall man said.

Well said.

The boxes kept coming, man after man.

After 15 minutes of watching them, Sy finally came though the door, looking equally confused and uncomfortable.

“Mr. Feltz, I don’t know what’s going on…there was a man-“

“Oh good! They’re here.” He said. Y/n raised an eyebrow- what was he hiding?

“Remember when I told you we’re expanding our IT department?”

“No.” She said.

“Well we are…so…” he walked away nervously.

They were up to something.

Y/n could see the tall man in Emmit’s office, leaning against the windowsill like it was his office, not Emmit’s. He turned around, speaking to the two men now in the office; y/n had been staring at him for too long and he glanced at her, catching her. He smirked.

Y/n quickly fell into her seat and was suddenly very interested in going through the emails. Mostly condolences on Irv’s passing.

The door to Emmit’s office opened and the tall man began walking to the elevator infront of y/n. A blush rose to her cheeks, trying to not look at him.

“V.M. Varga.”

Y/n looked up slowly. He stood there, towering over her desk. He held his hand out; it was large and his veins poked out gently.

Y/n took it carefully. He wrapped his fingers around her hand and shook it.

“I’m V.M. Varga. I am an associate of Mr. Stussy’s.” His voice made her hair stand on end. It wasn’t creepy per se, but it was strange. Slow and calculated.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Varga. I’m Y/n L/n, but please call me y/n.” She gave him a grin.

“Pleasure.” He dipped his head to stare at her on her level and released her hand.

“Meemo and Yuri will be here to make sure our transition is smooth, but I won’t be here for a couple days. I trust you’ll be of service to them when you can?” He asked.

Y/n nodded her head, “Of course, Mr. Varga. Whatever you need.”

Varga was surprised by her compliance.

“You have a good day, my dear.” He went to the open elevator.

Y/n gave him a bitter smile, “I’ll try sir.”

The three men disappeared behind the sliding door, Varga watched the girl behind the desk until the door was shut.

“Keep an eye on her.” He murmured to the men at his sides. They nodded.

-

A few days had passed. Y/n had learned the names of the two men who had come with Varga that first day. Meemo and Yuri.

Y/n liked them. They were intimidating but pleasant. The day after they had all come in initially, Yuri had come to y/n’s desk, leaned across and simply said “We don’t have any problems here?”

Y/n had stared up at him, “No problems here as long as you don’t make any for me.”

He gave her a slow smirk. “Yuri,” Pointing to himself, “That’s Meemo.”

Y/n had nodded, “Y/n. Pleasure.”

They came and went constantly over the coming days, always holding a briefcase. She was curious, but it was above her pay grade to ask. She didn’t care as long as they didn’t ask her to get them coffee or try to feel her up.

They were quiet, but y/n wanted to know more about that V. M. Varga. There was more to him than just an associate. She could tell.

It was a few days later, and both Emmit and Sy were constantly on edge. They snapped at her even more, once even tugging her out of their office by force- she had a bruise for days. Emmit all but humiliated her over nothing in front of the entire office when she told him he should consider a different plot of land to purchase when going over some files; he only stopped when Yuri and Meemo all but interrogated him.

Y/n was grateful. Yuri had said that he was disrupting their work and making the office uncomfortable.

But what she didn’t know was that they informed a certain Englishman. And he was revolted. This was his office now, and he would not have misdemeanours happen under his rule.

Another day passed. Y/n sighed out of boredom. Stussy had been a mess- evidently his wife of 25 years when she found a sex tape of him. Nasty.

Y/n cringed as now he would be on the search for some pity harassment. Around midday, y/n settled into the break room, searching for a nice cup of tea. She searched every shelf, and it wasn’t until after a moment that she saw the box on the top shelf. A good foot away from her hand. She signed.

Y/n was just about to give up when she felt a chest pressed against her back, she jumped.

Stussy.

He was impossibly close and his face was desperately needy. Y/n’s heart thudded, not knowing if he would do something worse.

“Hey y/n. You’re sure lookin! Nice. New skirt? Sure shows off those legs-“

“Emmit?”

Y/n snapped her head to the door of the secluded room. Varga. Standing tall as if Stussy was trespassing.

He was.

“Emmit do you mind backing away from the poor girl.” He walked into the room and Emmit suddenly became all twitchy and started stuttering, “I-she-she, well, you see- I”

“Oh do save it.”Varga shook his head, “Now then, were you needing something up there, y/n?” He turned his direction to the girl who had stopped breathing. She stared up at him wide eyed, but thankful.

Emmit stormed out, embarrassed.

“Yes sir. I was trying to get the tea from the top there, see? I’m afraid it’s just a bit out of my reach…” she said quietly. Varga gave her a smile and nodded, coming next to her. Y/n didn’t move, letting him stand in her space. She almost gasped when he stood next to her and reached up with ease.

“There you are, my dear,” He placed the box in her hands gently and closed the cupboard, “Would it be dreadful if I asked you to make an extra cup?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

Y/n gave him a smile, “You don’t have to ask sir. I was going to anyway.”

That small smile stretched out across his face. Y/n half wondered if he would bite her.

“Thank you.” With that he turned and went back to his office, leaving y/n alone to think.

What just happened?

Her mind ticked.

She barely registered that she boiled the kettle and made the tea. It wasn’t until she was walking to the once-empty wing of the office to deliver the tea that she snapped back to her body.

Tick.

Y/n tapped her knuckles on the closed door, not wanting to disturb them. Who knows what they were doing. After a moment, the door swung open- it was Meemo.

“It’s alright Meemo, it’s for me I believe.” The man stood aside to let Varga come to the door.

It was a wonder he didn’t hit his head on the frame.

“Here you are sir. Wasn’t sure if you took anything in it.” She handed it over nervously. She didn’t like how he made her so calm when everyone was so on edge around him. It was odd. He was odd.

Tick.

Y/n sat at her desk. Another few days went by and she was barely paying attention.

What she did know was that she was never bothered by anyone anymore. She could sit peacefully at her desk and she knew why.

Tick.

Varga would walk through the front of the office almost every day, being greeted with the same beautiful eyes and smile each time.

He craved that voice of hers saying “Good morning Mr. Varga!”

He relished in the blush that would form on her face when he would stop and say “Good morning y/n.”

She truly was wasted there. That had to change.

It was around 7:30 on Wednesday night. Y/n waited for the last few employees to go home before locking up. It was ridiculous how long they made her wait some nights. She rested her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes.

The ‘ding’ from the elevator made her look up, two of the last employees were leaving. Finally. Y/n stood and brushed her skirt. She never wore anything amazing. Just simple things that didn’t cost too much. No one noticed anyways.

She made her way down the isles of offices and cubicles, turning off all the lights, until she got to the once-empty wing. The light was on under the door.

Strange. She could have sworn they left.

Y/n knocked, “Mr. Varga? I’m just closing up for the night. Do you need any-“

The door opened, the man in question stood where her knuckles had just been.

“Evening, my dear. I do apologize. Had some loose ends to tie up I’m afraid.” He mused, walking back into his office to grab his coat and briefcase. Yuri was behind him.

“Yuri wait for me downstairs. Won’t be a moment.” Varga instructed the man. He nodded and walked past y/n. She heard the elevator door ding open and shut. Suddenly very aware of how alone they were. Varga shut and locked the door and y/n began walking back to her desk to grab her things.

Tick.

She decided to cross a line she had drawn for herself.

“Mr. Varga?” She asked slowly.

“Hmm?” He hummed, standing by her desk.

“You…” she took a deep breath, “You don’t work for anyone, do you? There is no Narwal.” Y/n didn’t know why, but she had to say something. She had seen the files and read the data. And V.M. Varga was no employee. He watched her.

“You’re behind everything.” She whispered.

That loan. She had a bad feeling about it when Emmit had said they didn’t ask for anything in return or as collateral. That wasn’t a loan. That was an investment. A virus.

Silence surrounded them. Varga stood there, thinking.

“Very good.” He said finally.

Y/n let out a breath.

“How long have you known?” Varga stood up straight as y/n shrugged on her coat and draped her purse across her shoulder.

“I knew something was wrong with that loan since I heard about it. No collateral? Come on. A moron could see that there would be something sinister behind it.” She smiled.

A laugh came from him, it was dry and tired, “You give them too much credit, my dear.”

Y/n nodded. She knew she did- she had to; they employed her. Varga stared at her for a few moments, thinking. Weighing his options.

“You’re wasted here.” He said. Startling her, “You have a business degree, yes?”

She nodded.

“And you’re being treated like a dog’s breakfast here.” He added, disgust in his face.

“Well I don’t have a lot of options here in St. Cloud…can’t afford to move so I’m stuck for now.” She nodded, hanging her head slightly.

“You ever consider working for someone else?” He pressed.

Tick.

Y/n could see he was going somewhere, “Of course. It’s not like I enjoy being felt up by unhappily married men. I’ve got a pretty face and that’s where most people stop. I’ve got more brains than this whole office put together I swear.” She ran her hand through her hair, the added, “Not including your wing of the office, sir.”

“I assumed.”

“I also have enough dirt of the both of them, Emmit and Sy, to put them into very uncomfortable situations.” She added.

He liked that.

There was a question hanging between them. Finally after what seemed to be hours, he asked.

“I could use someone like you on my side. Ever consider?” He slipped his hand into his pocket.

Y/n smiled up at him, “The side of the devil himself?”

“I suppose.”

“What’s in it for me?” She asked, curious.

“How does a $50 000 signing bonus and a hefty salary sound?” He said seriously- all jokes aside.

The air left y/n’s lungs.

Her mouth hung open.

“You’re joking.” She managed after a moment.

“Do I look like I’m joking my dear?” He wasn’t.

“No.” She whispered.

“So? I haven’t got all night.” He pressed the elevator call button.

Y/n stood there.

What about her work there?

Her references?

Her time and energy?

Her connections?

“If you have any doubts I’m sure we will be able to reach some sort of consensus.” Varga leaned against the wall, waiting.

Tick.

Y/n walked around the desk slowly and up to Varga. She held her hand out, which he took and shook.

“Welcome, Miss l/n.” He smirked and led her into the now open elevator.

“I look forward to working with you, sir.” She said, suddenly realizing that she invited the devil inside. More than she knew.

“Oh! Take this. Go buy yourself something nice. Can’t have you put to waste in such drab clothes.” He handed her a credit card. She wondered what the limit was on it.

She laughed. “I tried to dress as unappealing so they’d leave me alone.”

The elevator doors opened and Varga gestured for her to step out first. The lobby of the building was dead quiet. Y/n could see Yuri outside with a car.

Varga turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch, she actually welcomed it.

“They ever touch you, you come to me. They ever breathe too close, you…?” He waited.

“I come to you sir.” She finished.

“Good girl.” He squeezed her arm, “Come to my office tomorrow morning. Don’t go to that old desk, it’s not yours anymore.”

Y/n nodded, butterflies in her stomach.

Tick.

-

It felt strange taking the elevator knowing that she wouldn’t have to sit infront of it ever again. Y/n had indeed bought herself a few nice things. The had also taken time to do her hair- slicking it back into a tight bun. That first morning, y/n made sure to be a little late. Just so Stussy and Feltz would be there to know that she no longer worked for them.

She had bought herself a pair of high, black trousers that fit her perfectly and cinched in her waist, a soft v-neck blouse that showed off her neck and sternum as she stood tall in her heels- the heel high enough that she could effectively stab someone. To top it off she wore a beautiful trench coat akin to Varga’s, though much newer.

The sound of her heels clicked in her ears as she exited the elevator. Front desk empty. She shrugged off her coat and placed it over one arm before making her way past the Stussy and Feltz offices.

Stussy came first. He look a few moments to register who she was, then coming out the door, “ y/n! Where the heck are you going? You and k are going to have a talk later about your lateness today.” He followed after her, y/n paid him no mind.

Fetlz was second and last. He saw Emmit, then y/n and his mouth hung open. Was it Christmas? He too popped out of his office. Both men followed her like puppies. Pathetic.

“Say y/n are we getting raises or something today? Seems like our lucky day! You look great!” Sy caught up her and grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop “I’m talking to y-“

Before the words even left his mouth his own hand was snatched off of y/n’s harshly.

“No you’re not. Not anymore.” Varga materialized out of nowhere and tossed Sy’s hand away in disgust. “You will never speak to miss l/n ever again unless spoken to first. And you will never touch her. Is that clear?”

He circled y/n, placing a protective arm around her. The men nodded slowly, looking terrified.

“We was just- y-you know. No hard feelings and all that? We never meant any-“ Emmit stuttered.

Y/n turned around and Varga followed suit. He strode next to her and leaned over to say, “Welcome to the truth, my dear.”

Y/n shivered.

What have I gotten into?

-

“Was it truly that easy?” Y/n stared out of the office window that was once Sy Feltz’s. She was in disbelief how easily manipulated Emmit was.

“If you know the pressure points of a human mind, anything is possible, my dear. For Emmit Stussy, however, I didn’t need to know anything profound…crumbled like a house of cards.” A dry laugh came from him. Y/n turned and stared at Varga sat with his feet up on the desk leaning back. He was watching her.

“Wish I could have been there.” Y/n walked to the front of the desk and stood tall. He had been right to recruit her.

“Shall I go back to typing up my blackmail diaries, sir?” That was what they called them. They were documents upon documents of misconduct in the office towards herself and what she had witnessed from others.

“Off your go then. Oh! Could you fill this cup with water please my dear?” He held out Sy’s old cup that his poor wife had given him. If only she knew.

“Not a problem, sir.” She smiled and took the cup. He stared and watched her.

He was up to something.

When y/n returned with the cup full, Meemo, Yuri and Sy all stood in the office. She tapped the glass and Varga waved her in. Sy almost jumped away from her, likely due to countless threats from Varga. Y/n smirked and handed the cup into the waiting hands of Varga.

“Thank you, y/n. I’ll find you later.” He gave her a crooked smile.

Y/n shivered. Not out of disgust, more out of anticipation.

“Yes sir.” And with that she exited the office and went to their private wing to continue her documentation.

-

The files were finished.

Y/n stood in the large office, leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed. It was very early on December 19th, snow fell outside, and there was a quiet hum in the office as not one else was there.

Y/n had just informed Varga of her finished work. He was pleased. The documents would come into play very soon.

It was been almost strange working for someone who didn’t corner her every 5 minutes for a feel-up or abuse her mentally and physically. It was especially odd as V.M. Varga was not a kind man. He was a business man in the billionaire business. No time for niceties. But he was pleasant to her. Very pleasant.

Y/n had squeezed her eyes shut as he left a room more than once to rid her brain of the terrible thoughts she had of him. He wasn’t a terribly handsome man. He was almost scary from his massive height to his unkept hair to his unkept teeth. But something about him make y/n ache.

He was a fairly open book. Not ashamed of anything. Y/n decided on that early morning that she would ask him why he never tried to touch her; convinced she was destined to be felt up her whole life.

“Mr. Varga, sir?” She asked.

“Yes?” He said.

“Why is it that you have never tried to touch or harass me? I’m not trying to say that it should be in your nature or anything…I’ve just gotten so used to it that I notice it greatly that I’m no longer uncomfortable.” She wrung her hands, trying to not insult him.

Varga observed her for a moment. He stood slowly and placed his hands in his pockets.

“As a business man, I believe it is most important to establish a working relationship between oneself and their…partners. Knowing the line and not crossing it I suppose. I may not be a man of many values but I do know when to behave. Mostly.” He laughed.

Y/n nodded, half understanding him.

“So you don’t find me attractive?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Did I say that?” He slowly stalked towards her. Taking in every move she made. He was a predator, there was no doubt of it.

Y/n began to blush and looked away from him. “N-No, sir, but-“

“You’re wondering what I think of you?” He slowly cocked his head to the side. His tall frame towering over her. He still wasn’t touching her, but y/n was dizzy on his proximity. It was demanding and intimidating and y/n couldn’t get enough.

She stood her ground, the windowsill digging into her thighs. “I am.” She looked back up at him.

“What would you like to hear, my dear.” He whispered, just a foot away now.

With every passing second her mind went fuzzier and fuzzier. She didn’t know what to say. When she had initially asked the question she didn’t think he would say much. Maybe laugh it off or tell her about a Russian saying. Not this though.

The air disappeared from her lungs.

“I-“

“Cat got your tongue?” He leaned down a couple inches, close to her ear. The hairs on her neck stood up and goosebumps spread across her arms and legs. She didn’t know what to say. She was dizzy, not able to look away. His breath fanned across her cheek.

“Perhaps I ought to show you, since words are alluding us tonight?” His breath tickled her neck. Y/n nodded obediently. Varga smiled and placed a kiss just under her ear.

Y/n gasped.

The kisss instantly sent shocks down to between her thighs. Varga seemed to enjoy the sound as he slipped his hand into the hair at the back of her head and pulled. She moaned in surprise.

“Are you quite sure my dear?” He murmured against her skin, licking her ear.

“Yes…” she whispered with baited breath.

Please please please please!

“Yes…?” He pulled again. She winced.

“Yes sir.” She corrected.

“That’s a good girl.”

Y/n grasped his tie and pulled, and Varga took the invitation. His lips descended on hers before she could register; they were dry and he tasted of mint, but y/n was drunk on it. She could feel his tongue lick her bottom lip. Y/n welcomed him inside, gasping as he smoothed his tongue across her’s. A low moan came from her throat, he liked that. Varga moved his hands to her thighs and pulled her up onto the ledge of the window; she wrapped her legs around his hips and gasped again when she felt his arousal hot and pressed against her.

Without even realizing, her hips began rubbing against him, desperate for friction.

She pulled away to look up at him, he smirked and showed those crooked teeth of his. He saw how blown her pupils were. She was so desperate for his touch. He reviled in it.

“Looking for something?” He teased.

“P-please. Sir. Please-“ she stuttered.

He stared at her like a wolf would it’s prey.

“Something like…” he growled. Varga slid a hand up her soft thigh, under her skirt, swiping one of his long fingers across her soaked panties. He touched her too gently, then pulled her hair again; almost saying that he can stop playing nicely at any moment.

She hadn’t dreamed in a million years that V.M. Varga would be trancing his thumb across the most sensitive part of her body and making her beg for more.

Y/n nodded her head vigorously at his question. He smirked and brought his lips down to hers again, tugged her panties aside and slipped two long fingers inside her; she moaned loudly. He pulled back to speak against her lips, his tongue flicking out against hers, “Good girl. Look at me. There it is.” She stared up into his eyes, mouth open in ecstasy. He was slowly pumping in and out of her, hooking his fingers in just the right way.

How the hell did he know…?

“Now tell me. Is there anyone else who touches you like this?” He whispered in her ear, that English accent was heavier now. It made y/n’s inner walls clench around his fingers, he noted.

“N-no sir.” She managed before another moan came from her throat.

“And will there ever be anyone else to touch you like this?” He was torturing her. And she couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck- no, no sir!” She gasped, her pussy was getting beyond sensitive, she knew she was close, he did too.

“How can I be so sure?” His voice lowered even more.

“B-be-because -ah! I-I only w-want you. Sir. Fuck! Please!” Tears pooled in her eyes.

“Please?” He asked innocently.

“Please! I need to- I’m going to- Ah!”

“Going to?” He stopped moving. She wined. He decided he liked that sound too. She was so dumb for him.

“I’m going to cum sir! Please!” She gripped his shoulders, pleading for him to help her finish.

“Ahh is that what you want?” He resumed his speed, feeling her grow tighter with every stroke of his fingers. He decided she would hear his voice as she came, “Listen to my voice. You’re going to cum on my fingers because you’re my obedient girl. Then once you’ve finished, I’m going to shove my cock inside you and fuck you until you can’t remember your name. Do you hear me?” And that was all it took.

“Y-yes! Ah!” She squeezed her eyes shut and she felt his devour her mouth as she came hard around his deft fingers. A rush of cum dripped out of her onto his hand. She slowly released her vice-like grip on his suit. When she opened her eyes, she saw him smirking wolfishly down at her. He wished he had a camera to take a photo of her like that. Lips swollen and eyes heavy, cheeks flushed. Panting.

For him.

Varga slipped his fingers from her and held them up to his mouth, licking them once, then turning them to her, “Open.” He commanded.

She obliged, and he stuck his fingers inside her mouth for her to taste herself. He watched her lick them clean.

“So obedient.” He murmured.

Y/n felt her heart beating in her ears, she needed more. He knew it.

Varga reached down and unbuckled his belt, opening his pants and tugging his boxers down to his knees. Y/n barely had time to register how large he was before he was rubbing the head of his cock against her. She closed her eyes again, but he pulled her hair again and said, “Eyes open.”

Y/n fluttered them open and stared up at him. As soon as she looked at him, he smiled that crooked smile and pushed his cock inside her. Her brows pitched up and her mouth opened in a gasp. He was longer than she had thought, and he stretched her so deliciously she almost came again right there.

Once all the way in, Varga began to pull out again in a painfully slow pace. Y/n regained that tight grip on his arms, needing something to hold onto.

He was surprisingly strong, his grip on her never failing. She wondered what else he was capable of. Y/n let out a cry when he quickly snapped his hips and pushed back inside her.

“Now then, I’m going to ask you one. More. time.” He growled out, thrusting inside her with each word, “Who do you answer to?”

“Y-you, Mr. Varga.” Y/n moaned.

“And who do you belong to?” He was close, as was she; her walls squeezed him tightly.

“Y-YOU! V.M. VARGA, SIR! I’M YOURS!”She screamed, her pussy clenched once again as she came. He growled and dipped his head to her neck, biting her and sucking at the skin, marking his territory.

“Mine.” With that, he came inside her, back going ridged. He groaned and hunched over her. Y/n wrapped her legs tightly around him.

After a moment, he straightened up and removed himself from her. Y/n went to hop down but before she could, Varga handed her a handkerchief; she took it slowly, watching him. He went to step away, but she gripped his tie and brought him back down for one more dizzying kiss. As she pulled away, she nipped at his lip. He smirked.

Y/n hopped down from the window ledge; her legs were weak and she stumbled into his arms. Varga pulled her up and inspected his work on her neck.

“Don’t try to cover that.” He gestured to the dark mark.

She nodded silently and smiled, “Now why would I hide your work, sir?” She called as she walked out of the office. His eyes followed her as she left.

He was right to hire her.

Such an obedient girl.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@funandfancyfree

[stormblessed95]

Hi,Storm! Sorry to bother, but I really have something that’s been on my mind about jikook for some time. You know, I’be been an army for more then two years, and a jikooker as well. I’m not an adult( almost 15) but I like to think of myself as someone who has an open mind. Now, since I know Jikook for a long time, I have come across multiple people, videos, opinions, proof or not etc.etc. The thing is, sometimes I get in kind of head space we’re I’m thinking “And if they are not real? Then what?” (Please don’t misinterpret this. I don’t stan BTS because of Jikook or will stop doing so if they are a real couple.) And the thing is, when I think about this, and maybe this will sound selfish, I get sad... i don’t know why, but they became such a normal, day to day, ‘real’ thing to me, that imagining them not being together somehow breaks my heart. And then I think, “Stop being so selfish, it’s not that deep” and I constantly scold myself for felling sad. The thing that I actually wanted to ask you is, when you see certain moments(like when they were younger, in an interview, they were asked who would they introduce their little sister if they had one too, and jungkook said jimin, cause he think he will act good with his girlfriend) that maybe make you question their ‘reality’, or if you actually have certain moments that make you feel that way. Also, I will like your thoughts on how do you cope with the thought that they might not be true.. I’m sorry if I sound delulu or mean..but I really feel sad when I think about them not being together, and then I feel bad because of that feeling. Again, I would never become a hater just because my ship doesn’t come out real, but I want to know your opinion! Hope you see this and thank you!😊

Hello! I've been seeing you pop up in my notifications all the time working your way through my masterlist. So glad to see you in my inbox now 💜

1. You don't sound delulu or mean. You sound sincere in your worries and your question. Thank you for that 😊

2. No, I haven't really had any moments that made me go "this definitely makes me think they aren't a couple." For your example, JK for one, doesn't actually have a sister. Lol but regardless, they were asked a very heteronormitive question in a very conservative country. Was he supposed to say "not Jimin because he is gay," because I don't think that would have gone over well. Lol and he was basically just saying that Jimin would be a really good boyfriend, would treat his future girl (or partner) right and be good to them. And not to mention, JK himself was a minor during that time period and I don't think they were anything more than friends at that time either anyway.

3. It's fair to be sad if it turns out they are not a couple. Your feelings are your own and are valid. What it comes down to is WHY you feel the way that you do. Something to consider. Perhaps we are too invested and need to take some steps back? Perhaps we need to just remind ourselves of boundaries needed as a fan, that we aren't their friends. That we only see such a small part of their lives. It's important to remember that we love them for who they are, and if they are happy, no matter who it's with, that's all that should really matter. Also if they aren't boyfriends, I won't lie, I would be.... very confused. Lol but not my life, not my business is what it basically comes down to. And if they are just friends, well that wouldn't change how much I love them as people and how much I love their bond together. It wouldn't make their moments fake or no longer valid and there. Their friendship and the love they clearly have for each other would still be something to be admired and enjoyed. 🥰

4. *hides at the reminder of minors on my blog* I promise I keep it in mind but it's always a shock when one of you reminds me of it 😅 thank you for being here and for your question! I wish I could do or say more to help, but hopefully this answered you at least a little bit! Hope you have a wonderful day! 💜

[magickastiel]

day one of @tootiredmotel's 500 follower celebration!

✨ prompt one: blue | tattoo | "I can't believe you" ✨

_

Dean can’t stop looking at it.

Even as Castiel Novak talks in a dry, amused tone about the time Sam broke the printer and got in an argument with everyone in IT Support. Even as Sam retaliates by regaling them with the story of Castiel rudely spitting out black pudding entirely on reflex when breakfasting with British clients. Even as Bobby pours them all drinks and settles them in the living room.

Castiel Novak has a tattoo.

It’s not an earth-shattering revelation by any means, but every time Dean tries to focus on something else, his eyes are drawn back to Novak’s ankle. He’s wearing loafers with no socks on (usually douchey, Dean thinks, but he pulls it off annoyingly well) so he’s got a good view.

It’s a sprig of lavender, elegantly designed with flowing lines and just a hint of colour.

It’s a nice, pleasing design to look at.

But Dean’s damaged mind is wailing a warning alarm that shakes his eardrums. It’s too soft, too feminine, too...obvious.

Castiel Novak is gay.

Sam knows that, Bobby knows that. Dean definitely knows that.

So, a small tattoo of a flower really isn’t breaking any boundaries here.

Dean shakes himself and drags himself back to the conversation. He even manages to laugh along while Bobby tells them about his and Rufus’ latest escapade and chips in a comment or two. Castiel seems to relax into the couch and shifts, crossing one leg over the other. Dean doesn’t look.

He’s doing fine until Sam speaks. Because of course he does.

“Dude, didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

“Oh.” Castiel looks down at his ankle like he’s never seen it before. “Yes. It’s...lavender.” He laughs and sets both feet back on the floor. “Obviously.”

Sam keeps talking because apparently Dean’s didn’t raise him to mind his own business. “Did you get it because it’s a queer symbol?”

Dean chokes on his whiskey and his throat burns almost as hot as his face. “I-is it?!”

“It is actually.” Those blue eyes focus on him for the second time since he came through the door and he feels pinned in the chair. “You...didn’t know that?”

“No! Why would I know that?” Dean answers far too quickly.

There’s a pause. Bobby drinks from his own glass a little too loudly. Sam’s eyes dart between them with far too many questions on the tip of his tongue.

Dean’s face burns hotter than his throat. “So, that’s why you got lavender then? ‘Cuz it’s gay?”

Sam huffs. Bobby sighs.

Castiel Novak just looks amused again. It’s an irritatingly good look on him.

“No, that was just a perfect coincidence.”

He takes another sip of his whiskey before delivering the killer blow.

“I chose lavender because the first boy I ever kissed once gave me a bunch of wild lavender.” He smiles and Dean feels like someone paused his lungs. “It didn’t work out, of course – just a fling. But it was a very life affirming time. I wanted something to remind me of that whenever I felt like it wasn’t worth fighting to be myself.”

“Huh, cool.” Sam says and Bobby shrugs like it’s incredibly normal to have a gay guy sat on his couch in a thousand dollar suit with a girly tattoo on his ankle.

Sam drains his glass, stretches and stands. “I think we better head off. Gotta look over the papers before the meeting in the morning.”

“Yes, of course.” Castiel finishes his whiskey and sets the glass carefully on the table.

“You sure you won’t stay here?” Bobby asks Sam but is still polite enough to glance at Castiel to make him feel included. “Wouldn’t be any trouble to make the space - ”

“Nah, it’s ok.” Sam claps him on the shoulder. “The firm booked us two suites for as long as we need.”

“And my family are notoriously difficult to get money out of, so we should make the most of it.” Castiel smiles and shakes Bobby’s hand. “Thank you for your hospitality. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a better chilli.”

Bobby puffs up with pride. “Anytime. So long as you’re doing good by Sam, you’re alright with me. And good to meet an old friend of Dean’s.”

“Yes.” He turns and Dean’s engulfed in blue again. “It’s good to see you again, Dean. Perhaps we’ll be seeing a bit more of each other while I’m here.”

It’s a perfectly innocent thing to say. No one bats an eyelid at it. Dean sweats under his flannel.

He reaches out to shake Castiel’s hand and is taken back fifteen years.

He remembers the sharp chill in the dusk air, he remembers the annoying pimple on his chin, he remembers his hand quivering around slender green stems. He remembers the heady scent in the air as he passed a bunch of wild lavender to a blushing seventeen year old Castiel Novak.

“Y-yeah.” Words stick in his throat, like they always do. “Yeah, maybe.”

____________________________________________________________

all of these are from the same story but hopefully they make sense alone too 💖

read the other parts: one | two | three |

[violetnotez]

Hiiiiiii! Can I have a request where Midoriya’s s/o makes a promise to him that they will protect them with their life?

“God, this part always made me so upset,”

you snuggled closer into his shoulder, grip tightening on his sleeve as you watched the woman on screen let go of her lover to the ocean, the melancholy music playing like the main theme like a funeral progression as the camera captured the beart wrenching moment.

Midoriya chuckled, looking down at your pouted face as you watched the scene of Titanic unfold, your expression obviously unhappy with the events taking place in the story.

“And why’s that?” He asked, almost sheepishly, timid voice ringing out with curiosity as he smoothed the hair away from your face with his scarred palm.

He felt you take a deeper breath, your chest deeply pressed into his for a second or two. “I could never do that,” you stated, your voice muffled from being curled into his tshirt, “just leave somebody I love like that to die. It’s kinda messed up when you think about it.”

“Well, she didn’t really have much choice, the door only couil fit one person-“

You shuffled on top of him, propping your head up with a playful huff. “It could have totally fit him on too!”

Midoriya chuckled, finding it kind of funny how adamant you were about this fictional scenario. Apart of him agreed with you, that the protagonist maybe could have tried a little harder to save her lover....but apart of him felt sympathy for her.

Many times he’s been in near death experiences, the sole task of saving people in need left on his shoulders. He couldn’t count how many times he stayed up at night, rethinking his approach to those situations in order to do better the next time around, beating himself up when situations ended up worse than he thought.

He knew what it felt like to be those situations, where the line between life and death was only but a single fragile thread, one wrong move snapping the boundary Indeifnitley, and not knowing what the right move was until moments after when everything was said and done.

Did this character regret her decision? Did she wish she saved her lover, not listening to him and joining him in death as well?

Midoriya shook his head of the morbid thoughts, coming back to reality when he heard a man yelling from the TV.

Izuku looked back down at you, grabbing your hand instinctively, finding a certain solace with touching you, grounding himself back into reality.

Midoriya was prone to going on tangents internally, his mind an Icarus of itself. He would fly through his thoughts, each other more detailed than the last, until it ran him into a barrier like the sun, suffocating his sanity.

But with you, you were his saving grace....an angel to gently pull him back to Earth, unknowingly keeping him from being engulfed by his own self.

His thumb squeezed yours gently, smiling as the familiarity of your face made him feel at ease in the present. The man on the screen was still yelling, presumably looking for any survivors as your brows knitted in sadness, hands pressed deeper into Midorya’ chest.

“What would you have done?” He suddenly asked, his thumb grazing the skin of your outer hand.

“Like-if it was you and me?”

He felt you tilt your head, gaining a peck to see his facial reaction. Izuku gulped, feeling a familiar heat raise to his cheeks knowing you were curious by his question-did you find it wierd he was asking such a sad question? Was it a bit morbid for a home date to ask? You had been together for a while...was it okay to ask that?

You felt your voice call out his name, the sound sweet and dreamlike against his ear as he awoke yet again from his internal tangent, shaking himself from the thoughts.

He sent you an apologetic grin, green eyes wide and cheeks glowing a dusty pink.

“I-I guess you could say that,” he said sheepishly, hoping the question didn’t bother you too much with its dark undertone.

He felt you hum against him, your smaller chest sending a vibration down his spine as you thought about his question.

“Well...” you sighed, your eyes shifting upward to look at him “I would obviously try to make you go on with me.”

“And what if it didn’t fit us both?”

I’d make it fit us both,” you said triumphantly, shuffling to prop yourself up in your palms, showcasing a proud grin.

Izuku chuckled at your antics, scarred digits moving to your hips, encasing you on his lap. It was so comfortable like this, so domestic...you really were like a dream, so stubborn yet so sweet in all the right ways.

Deku bite his bottom lip, emerald eyes looking down.

“And what if that didn’t work?”

You tilted your head, leaning down slightly to look at Izuku’s expression. Your grin was on your face, that pride still plastered on your expression.

“I’d force you on it.”

You said it so effortlessly, as if it was so normal and nonchalant. But to Izuku, this was major-you practically said you would-well, die for him-how could you be that.....devoted?

It wasn’t as if Izuku wouldn’t do the same-hell, he’d willingly give his life over yours if it came to it, no question about it...but hearing it from you-well it worried him as well as filled him with a strange sort of gratefulness.

“Force me?” He stuttered out, eyes wide with confusion. “But I-I wouldn’t, I couldn’t let you do that-“

“Cmon ‘Zuku, lets be real here-“ you pursed your lips, your expression more serious than before. “you’re a pro hero. Your life is way more valuable than me.”

“T-that’s not true, all life is valuable, especially yours! I couldnt live with myself if you-“

“You lived without me once-you could live without me again.”

Izuku sucked in a harsh breath, his chest brushing against your yours for a split second. He didn’t expect that from you...such a blatant lack of your own concern for your life. How could you be so willing to lay everything down for him? Of course, you were only saying this, and actions speak louder than words as they say...but the way you were looking at him confirmed what you were saying. Your eyes were knitted, irises dark and full of harsh honesty. It terrfied him, filled him with a pool of icy worry in his stomach.

“I couldn’t.”

He breathed out, digits squeezing your skin, almost as if to confirm you were still there with him, heart beginning to beat like a steady drum in his chest.

“Izuku, your life, no matter how you look at it, is much more valuable.”

You explained, your lips curving into a sweet smile. “You save lives, and you’re pretty damn good at it-Id protect you with my life, because you’d help way more people than I could ever in one life time.”

“T-that’s....no, I-“

You laughed at his obvious flustered look, loving how adorable he was with his cheeks like red licorice, freckles dusted like specks of choclate, sweet and enticing to devour.

You pressed a chaste kiss on his heated cheek, nose grazing his skin, warmth radiating off of him. You giggled at how much he reacted to that one small gesture, his nose taking in a sharp inhale of breath and muscles of his legs tightening under you.

“Just be grateful I wouldn’t toss you into the ocean.” You said mischievously, eyes creased with amusement.

“T-thanks....I guess...”

You smiled, feeling guilty as well as proud that you had the power to turn such a strong person’s mind into much with just a few actions. You decided to give the poor guy a break, finding your spot against his chest yet again. You snuggled back into him, relishing in the smell of his shirt that was so familiar at this point.

“Ya know...I-I...I really-love you,” you heard Izuku stutter out the words, voice so timid it made your heart tug with adoration, “and Id do the same for you. In a heart beat.”

In A heart beat.

It echoed in your head like a mantra, that honey sweet word circulating your body, warming up every corner of your insides.

You yawned quietly, the feeling so refreshing and calming as you snuggled deeper into him, relaxing your body as your lids fluttered down.

“In a heart beat...” you repeated back, feeling as if the simple phrase was perfect to say, the sensation of Izuku’s strong heart beat a reminder of that promise.