#and then to not see him take this crucial final step to break himself free from everything that had been poisoning him?

[cafecitowriter]

all i’m saying is that we should’ve been able to actually see Nate make the decision to quit and see him do that and tell Rupert off on screen

#like that would have been so much more impactful than the news story shock discovery #we have all been angry at nate and then rooting for his redemption #him not spitting at himself in the mirror was step one #then him going home to jade instead of doing what rupert wanted on their 'boy's night' was step two #and then to not see him take this crucial final step to break himself free from everything that had been poisoning him? #and i don't just mean rupert i mean this horrible view he has of himself which fuels his cruelness through his own lack of confidence #it just felt very hand-wavy like oh look nate did the right thing but now he's sad because he doesn't know where his life is going #also there are rumours at west ham about inappropriate workplace behaviour #but nate deserved to have that quitting scene on screen #it also would have been an uno reverse from what he did to ted last season #except this time it's coming from a place of growth and understanding that he chose wrong #and it would have helped explain whatever the hell was going on with rupert this episode #ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers

[0alanasworld0]

At Ease (Hakim Ziyech x reader) *request

Request: Can you write something for ziyech about you taking care of him after a game (taking a bath together, massaging him…)

Warnings: none

He was no doubt the love of your life but my god did he confuse you at times. Being the nervous and careful person you were, the whole “high risk, high reward” concept made you itch with anxiety. It just wasn’t something you ever saw yourself living by. Hakim on the other hand, was the complete opposite in this regard. Not to say that he was reckless, he always thought through his decisions. However when it came to weighing up decisions, if the pros were big enough, he would always endure the associated risks; even if those risks were pretty big themselves. If the risks did come to fruition, he would simply tell himself that it was for the best. He wasn’t someone to question God’s plan, that was for sure.

“At least I tried.” he would tell himself.

You had to admit that while it perplexed you, you would always be in awe of him for it. The fruits of his resilience were most clearly visible on the pitch. Passes that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than Hakim yet they would always open up solid opportunities for his teammates to take shots and slip through the unsuspecting defences. Angles that seem completely nonsensical but in his eyes, that 0.000001% chance is still a chance.

Luckily today was one of those days. The minutes are ticking to a close and you worry that another disappointing result is going to be held over his head by brainless fans. That has been pretty common recently. No matter how many crucial passes he made, no matter how many times his teammates lacked the awareness to take advantage of the passes, any form of loss would be bared by him. Today those brainlets had no reason to be upset with him.

The crowd is growing uncomfortable as the extra time is being calculated. 4 minutes. Everyone is shifting in the seats with unease as play continues. The team looks exhausted, defeated and ready to go inside and call it a game. A smile makes its way onto your face when you see your love, still switched on and looking for opportunities and finally one comes. A free kick that could break through the 0-0 display and open up the scoreboard in his favour. Your heart starts to pound and you feel the tension in the stadium rise as Hakim takes a step back to assess his surroundings. You can’t see him very clearly from when you’re sitting but you have a vague idea of what’s going through his head based on the situation. “No guts, no glory.”

You hold your breath as he begins the jog before kicking the ball. You can see the approach he’s taking based on the angle and you pray that this time it’s glory. During times like this, he can’t exactly rely on his teammates for anything. Experience has drilled that into his thought process for moments like this. You worry because the opposing defence is still energetic and ready to do anything to make sure nothing comes of this opportunity. Almost the entire team is there, ready and waiting for the kick. It looks as if they’re ready for anything.

The ball flies as you would expect but as it reaches its peak, you’re certain that it will either go wide or be cleared by someone in the opposition and your heart sinks. You close your eyes since you can’t bear to see the turnout yet something compels you to open them again. They widen further in shock as you see it curl; it goes over everyone’s heads and right towards the top left corner of the goal. Your heart sinks again as you think it will just ping off the post and back into fruitless play but soars as the ball manages to bury itself in the net. 

Your ears ring with the sounds of your own screaming as well as that of the roaring crowd, you can feel and see the electricity erupt throughout the stadium as Hakim’s vision comes to reality. A goal that you couldn’t imagine anyone else even thinking to try. You’re able to release a big sigh of relief and you imagine that your husband is doing the same. You're bouncing up and down on your toes with excitement as the minutes turn into seconds with the team wasting as much time as possible. Finally, the whistle sounds as the coaching staff and team pour out onto the field and you smile as you see Hakim being thrown in the air: a very well-deserved hero’s celebration. 

The crowd is still wildly celebrating when he sprints over to the barrier, jumps over and nearly falls over while running up the stairs to you. Before you even have time to react, he practically throws himself at you, enveloping you in the tightest hug he can give. It quite literally knocks the breath out of you but you couldn’t care less, you kiss his head and return the hug. Admittedly, you’re nowhere near strong enough to deliver the same squeeze but you hope he gets the idea: you couldn’t be more proud of him.

“‘No guts, no glory’ huh?” you whisper in his ear, you can feel his smile widen against your neck. Neither of you have any awareness of the dozens of eyes focused on you or the cameras and you wouldn’t care anyway. It’s his moment and he was gonna make sure he shared as much of it as he could with you.

The car ride home was something else. Hakim had a smile permanently plastered on his face and you were both excitedly humming to the songs from your playlist. At every chance he can get, he’s giddily going over what was going through his head and how it all looked in the moment and you listen with the same enthusiasm. Not once does the energy die down and you’re both rushing to get out of the car and into the house when he pulls up.

He’s carrying you on his back, racing to the entrance. He unlocks the front door as quickly as he can, breathing out a sigh of relief when he walks through and the familiar scent of the house hits him. Once he lets you down, he can finally feel the exhaustion hit him. It was a high energy match and with the recent performance from the team, he just wasn’t used to it. The soreness in his muscles became that much more apparent. His legs and arms feel heavy and his eyes are threatening to close at any second and it’s getting harder and harder to fight the fatigue. 

You quickly go to hold him before anything can happen. You urge him to throw an arm around your shoulder as you help him up to your bedroom. He falls not-so-gracefully onto the bed, face first and you crouch down so your faces are level, holding back a laugh. He narrows his eyes at you.

“You laugh at my misery?” he huffs.

“I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing! I’m merely admiring my husband.”

He hums disapprovingly, dramatically turning away from you. All in jest of course but he’s just having so much fun!

“Hey hey no c’mon! Now, you need to get your kit off!” you say, rubbing his back.

“Oooh did that goal get you all excited?” he questions. You roll your eyes.

“You’re hardly in the state for that, my love. I was thinking of something more along the lines of a bath?”

“I suppose that would make more sense.” he hums. You laugh quietly, patting his back before going to run the bath. You bring out one of the bath bombs and throw it in the lukewarm water, taking your clothes off before putting on a bathrobe. Hakim makes it to the door, a lot steadier on his feet than before.

“Is that robe really necessary?” he teases, enjoying the way your face heats up from his gaze.

“Well, I thought I was going to have to drag you in here.” you retort, unable to meet his sparkling brown eyes.

“Oh, you without that useless piece of fabric would have been enough motivation to take me anywhere.” you roll your eyes and shake your head with a small smile on your face.

He takes his underwear off and you both get into the bath. He sighs out at the feeling of the  warm water against his body, the tension already leaving his body. He pulls you so that your back is against his chest and traces the soft lines of your body with his hands. You shiver at the contact, even with the warm water soothing your skin.

“Should I have passed to someone instead?” he asks quietly. He was strong and clear-minded for the most part regarding these matters but the doubt still swirled around in his head. You open one eye in confusion.

“Hmm?” 

“Wouldn’t it have made more sense to just pass it? I mean Mason was right there!” he elaborates. Your heart breaks a little for him. Years of being worn down by unfairly harsh critics made moments like this a little difficult to celebrate sometimes, their words ringing in his ears constantly.

“Mason had just played a full 92 minutes after coming off a month long recovery. I think you picked the safest option, Habibi.” you murmur softly, squeezing his forearm. He hums in relief, dipping his head to lay kisses that trail down from the side of your head to your shoulder as his arms tighten around your middle. The fact that you were always able to see where he was coming from or at the very least willing to understand made his heart swell with affection for you. The rest of the bath continues in a comfortable silence until the water begins to cool at which point you both get out.

He throws on a pair of underwear and some joggers before layinf on his back on the bed as he begins to check through his phone. You follow behind and lean over to tap on his shoulder.

“Roll over for me?” he narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“My love, you winced the entire walk to the bed. You need a massage.” the mischievous glint in his eyes becomes apparent again as he enthusiastically complies.

You get into position and rub your hands together to warm them up a bit before getting to work. You start at the back of his neck and move slowly down his shoulders and then his toned back, thumbs pressing into the tight muscles and working out the knots to release all of the built up tension. He hums and moans quietly in delight at the feeling of your soft hands dancing around his skin, flexing every once in a while to enjoy all the stress melting away at your comforting touch.

“Good lord, where do you even learn this? Your hands are like magic, I swear!” he asks, sighing out in bliss, ready once again to fall asleep.

“I don't know, it's just instinctive?” you say as you think, reaching his lower back. It’s particularly knotted here, much like his shoulders so you put a little more pressure to soften the muscle. You look up to make sure there aren’t any signs of discomfort but a wide smile makes its way onto your face when you realise that he’s ¾ asleep. You get off him, throwing the duvet over his relaxed frame and he breathes out with a small smile, snuggling further into them. You hop in quickly, laying on your side to face him and he throws an arm over you. He shifts a little so you can rest your head under his chin like you always do and he finally lets the tiredness take over his body, falling into a happy and peaceful slumber. You’re not too far off yourself, the warmth that radiates from his body sends you into a deep sleep not so long after him. The perfect way to celebrate and end an especially joyful day.

finallyyyyyyyyyyyy! i hope i could bring some spice back to the hashtag lmao. i'm sorry its a bit shorter than usual; I'll probably add to it at another stage but I hope u enjoy anyway, my lovelies xxxx

#footballer fic #footballer imagine #hakim ziyech #hakim ziyech imagine #hakim ziyech imagines #hakim ziyech x reader

[brainrot4dayz]

Wanderer headcanons 18+

going feral fr ; this has been in my drafts since last year lmao

notes: g/n reader (implied afab like once), babygirl might be ooc but I am delusional so idc :*

Happy birthday to our favorite wanderer ^^

minors please dni

tw: worship kink, mild voyeurism, overstimulation

call him by the name you chose for him and you will have his undivided attention

neck kisses neck kisses neck kisses neck kisses neck kisses ne-

he will generally not ask for consent conventionally, he would rather make you beg for what you want from him or seek out your approval by reading your reactions - unless discussed otherwise

if there is no consent he just backs off and resumes his previous activities, he sees no point in forcing himself on the person he loves, also, you both have all the time in the world together and he is willing to wait as much as you need

imagine squishing his thighs aaaaaaaaaaaa

loves it when you sit on his lap or vice versa, it never fails to give him butterflies - do that in public and he will seek revenge in private by having you sit on his face

it's amazing until you find yourself overstimulated to no end and he just keeps eating you out relentlessly until he's decided you begged him enough to stop

expect mild voyeurism; he can be impatient and will act out on his urges whenever he can sneak you in a secluded area, be it a sweet peck on your nose or a quickie (he is a bit of a hypocrite)

he has a worship kink and it goes both ways; absolutely loves when you worship him as your own god and he will return the favor by treating you as his own world - cherishing each end every little part of you <3

can and will tease you for hours, his second round of foreplay begins when your orgasm ends; you're never catching a break with this guy because he can't get enough of you

massive switch energy: when you think he will take charge and finally take responsibility for all the teasing, he will step back and chuckle to himself, urging you to take matters in your own hands but if you get too overzealous he may just change his mind

very vocal, won't shut up about how good you make him feel and tell you in detail all the things he is going to do to you~

has a ridiculous amount of stamina, good luck

if you managed to top him he will be like putty in your hands, feel free to overstimulate him too he loves that

aftercare is crucial to him; he is a sucker for intimacy and taking care of eachother, chances are he's still going to act witty with you as a cheap attempt to distract you on how flustered he is in your care

however, if you've managed to fuck his brains out somehow there is no way he would have a single mean bone left in that short body of his and he is yours to pamper~

i just know he purrs when he's like that aaaaaaaaaaaa

if it's the other way around, chances are you've passed out (or pretty close to), so he will be extra gentle with you hoping that you won't remember a thing

one day you give yourself away without and he keeps that in mind

since that day he will occasionally start cracking jokes just to check if you are still conscious so he knows if he can still mess with you or not

#wanderer smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader

[phdmama]

Drarry, ~780 words, G/T This was inspired by the @drarrymicrofic​ image prompt from January 31. As always, this is as micro as I get, sorry.

It’s another boring party at the Ministry and Harry cannot wait to go home. The ballroom is stuffy even with all of the doors to the outside patio thrown wide open and the planners went with the caterers who do decent desserts but terrible hors d’oeuvres. However, the wine is better than average and plentiful, Harry figures he doesn’t have to spend more than another thirty minutes making the rounds before he can escape, and it’s probably going to rain tonight. All reasons to be optimistic.

He tugs at his tie and winces when Hermione elbows him in the ribs. 

“Stop fussing,” she mutters. “You’re fine.”

“I hate ties, I hate these events, and I sort of hate you,” Harry informs her and she elbows him again.

“You do not, you big baby. Go talk to Henderson, you know he’s a pivotal vote on your equipment budget.”

Harry rolls his eyes at her as Hermione walks away and has to grin when she doesn’t even turn around to flip him off behind her back. But she is, as always, absolutely correct, and in any case, Harry is well-aware that this is as much a part of his job as the whole solving crime and tracking down dark wizards stuff. So he sucks it up, chitchats with Henderson and finally gets a break and heads for the dessert table, where he finds—

“Malfoy.”

He gets a cool nod in return and then Malfoy holds something up.

“Have you tried these? They’re pineapple. They’re good.”

“Oh,” Harry says, feeling curiously off-kilter. “Um, no. Pineapple?”

“Pineapple,” Malfoy confirms and pops the tiny tart into his mouth. 

He closes his eyes as he chews. His lashes, surprisingly dark for such a fair man, stand out in contrast to his translucent skin and Harry can’t look away from Malfoy’s throat as he swallows and then opens his eyes and gives Harry a distant smile.

“I’ll see you around, Potter,” Malfoy says and then he’s gone.

It takes Harry another twenty minutes to extricate himself from the party, and it’s only when he promises Hermione that yes, he will absolutely follow up with the three separate people she thinks are crucial on Monday that he finally feels free to go.

Harry steps out into the cool, dark night, shivering even though the damp air feels good on his overheated cheeks. The rain hasn’t started yet, but he can feel it in the air, and he walks just a bit faster down the empty street. He’s almost to the corner when a figure steps out of the shadows.

It’s Malfoy, just finishing a cigarette, which he banishes with a snap of his fingers. Harry refuses to find that hot as they eye each other and then Malfoy steps closer.

“Took you long enough,” he says, reaching out to snag Harry by a belt loop, yanking him in for a quick kiss. He tastes of smoke and spice and whiskey.

Harry kisses Malfoy back, taking his time, one hand on Malfoy’s hip, the other tangling in the hair that curls at the nape of his neck. He knows Malfoy’s been too busy with the Alexander prosecution to get a haircut. Harry pulls back and they’re both a little breathless.

“I can’t believe you safeworded out of a party,” Harry says and Malfoy flashes that quick, sharp grin that never fails to get Harry’s heart racing.

“I really, really needed to get out of there,” he says and leans in to kiss Harry again. No matter how many times they do this, every time it feels new.

“Oh yeah?” Harry says softly against Malfoy’s lips, loving the way they curve under his own. “You have somewhere more important to be?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy murmurs in response. “I do.”

The first drops of rain hit Harry’s face and he pulls back reluctantly.

“And where’s that?”

“With you,” Malfoy says simply, and then shifts, winding an arm around Harry’s waist and Harrry’s arm automatically wraps around Malfoy’s back as Malfoy starts them walking down the street to the closest Apparition point. “Let’s go.”

“My place?” Harry asks, and feels something big that he can’t quite name yet filling up his chest as Malfoy nods and tips his head onto Harry’s shoulder for just a moment. 

Harry turns his head to brush a kiss to Malfoy’s cheek, but he misjudges and instead it lands on Malfoy’s ear. Malfoy snickers at that. The rain starts to come down harder but they don’t walk any faster.

Malfoy glances over at Harry and then smiles, slow and sweet in a way that he so rarely is.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “Let’s go home.”

#my writing #drarry vignette #drarry microfic

[blue-chimera]

Breaking Dean Winchester

I've run into some who call "On the Head of a Pin" (S4:E16) "boring" — complaining that Dean seems detached throughout the torture of Alastair — or who dismiss the torture scenes as "gratuitous," a clumsy device to artificially ramp up tension with no other purpose besides distracting from an info-dump about the first seal. I believe these viewers are overlooking or misinterpreting crucial scenes, so I wanted to describe what I see happening in this episode & how it fits in Dean's larger character arc in seasons 4 & 5. [TL;DR at the end]

Start by recalling Dean's confessions in S4:E10 & E11. In E10, a distraught Dean admits that he broke under torture in Hell & started torturing other souls. Then, in E11, we get a separate scene where Dean goes a step further & confesses — with evident self-loathing — that he enjoyed it. He compares himself to the feral children living in the walls of the house in Ep 11 & says that he was worse than them, that decades of torture had warped him into something sadistic — that when he eventually picked up the knife in Hell, he liked torturing others: “All those years, all that pain… Finally getting to deal some out yourself? I didn’t care who they put in front of me.” He describes himself as torturing after that for the “sheer pleasure” of it. And it’s this that makes him feel like he’s unalterably tainted: “No matter how many people I save, I can’t change that.”

So when the angels ask him to torture Alastair, Dean's initial response is a harsh refusal: he's drawn a firm line between the things he did (and who he was) in Hell & who he is now. Nonetheless, we can intuit that he wants revenge on Alastair pretty badly — it’s not a far leap to imagine he’s spent considerable time fantasizing about it. After all, Alastair tortured him for decades, and Dean wasn’t exactly an “I don’t hold a grudge” kind of guy before that.

But Dean is stubborn, and his moral code is stronger than his desire to rip Alastair to pieces. So he says, “No.” And then he says, “No” yet again after being physically snatched from his motel & taken to Alastair. But then he lets Cas talk him into doing it anyway.

Why? Does Cas actually convince Dean that this torture is necessary? Objectively speaking, Cas doesn't make much of a case: he simply reiterates that Heaven says it's necessary & he's been told that Dean needs to be the one to do it. But Dean hasn't found "Heaven says you have to do this" to be a persuasive argument before.

Is it because it's Cas who's asking? While Dean respects Cas and is clearly developing a relationship with him, it's hard to imagine that the strength of that relationship alone would be enough to persuade him to engage in what he sees as dirty work. Cas has not yet aided Dean in circumventing prophecy (using Chuck's archangel protector to drive Lilith away from Sam's motel room), not yet tried to warn him about the angels' plans for him (only to get "dragged off to Bible camp," as Dean puts it), or not yet defied the other angels to free him from the "green room" in an attempt to avert the breaking of the last seal. Their primary bonding moment up until this point was Cas's confession in "It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester" that he had questions & doubts about his orders, that he didn't know if Dean's choice was the "right" course of action, and that (despite his lack of knowledge) his personal preference regarding the town aligned strongly with Dean's choice.

Their most recent interactions, however, saw Cas trying to kill Anna Milton and, later (in "Death Takes a Holiday"), impersonating Bobby over the phone, which he acknowledges that he does because his own word does not seem to hold much weight with Dean: "Whatever I ask, you seem to do the exact opposite." Dean clearly trusts & respects Castiel more than Uriel, but ultimately, there's little to suggest that Dean would (at this point in their relationship, at least, if ever) substitute Cas's judgment for his own.

So, why does Dean accept Cas's argument here? It doesn't seem far-fetched to imagine that he's deceiving himself about his own motivations — that he tells himself he's doing it for Heaven, or for Cas. Dean asks to speak to Cas alone in part because he doesn't want to show vulnerability discussing such a sensitive subject in front of Uriel. But perhaps it's also because he knows his pride won't let him capitulate in front of Uriel, and he wants to surrender to his desire for revenge. He wants the excuse to do everything he’s dreamed of to Alastair.

How else can you explain it? After all, he fought the angels a lot harder on many other occasions where they argued that it was necessary to do a bad thing so a worse thing wouldn’t happen. In "It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester," Dean was prepared to defend his perspective over the Will of Heaven to the death. He told Cas & Uriel that their choices were to do it his way or kill him, but he wasn’t going to let them destroy the town — and he was completely unmoved by Heaven's claim that the destruction was necessary to avoid the risk of Hell on Earth. Why are things different now? He didn't believe then about Samhain. Why does he believe them about Alastair? Well, for one, Dean seems a lot more world-weary now: they’re losing the fight to keep the seals from breaking, he's just buried another friend, & his relationship with Sam is horribly strained. It's possible that he's just tired of battling things out with the angels. But I suspect that the biggest difference is that, deep down, Dean is hungry to get his hands on Alastair. That’s why the famously-intractable Dean Winchester is open to persuasion here. That's why he tells Cas, “You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out.” Because he’s afraid to become the person he was in Hell, and he knows it's a real risk here, because he knows he can’t be objective doing this. He wants to torture Alastair far too badly for that.

This tracks with the next scene: Alastair guesses immediately that Dean is there to torture him and that he’s afraid of what torturing will awaken in himself, and he’s delighted to reunite Dean with the sadistic streak he discovered in Hell (and suppressed upon his return to Earth). Meanwhile, Dean is trying to convince himself that he can stay detached. Ergo, the following exchange:

Dean: Answer the question.

Alastair: Or what? You’ll work me over? But then, maybe you don’t want to. Maybe you’re a-scared to?

Dean: I’m here, aren’t I?

Alastair: Not entirely. You left part of yourself back in the Pit. Let’s see if we can get the two of you back together again, shall we?

Dean does his best to project cool detachment, telling Alastair that he’s going to be disappointed, to which Alastair replies, “You have not disappointed me so far” and then attempts to provoke him, saying that surely Dean wants revenge for “all the pokes and prods” Alastair inflicted on him in Hell. When that doesn’t seem to penetrate Dean’s composure — this is obviously an expected line of attack — Alastair follows up with, “Well, then. How about for all the things I did to your daddy?” The camera pulls focus back to where Dean raises his head, stung. Alastair has struck the first successful blow.

We cut to Sam talking to Ruby and find out that he's not afraid of Dean becoming the “torture master” he was in Hell. Instead, he simply doesn’t think Dean has the steely nerves that Sam thinks he’d need to break Alastair with traditional methods, so Sam expects he’ll need to come to the rescue with the use of his powers.

Cut to Dean: Dean’s mask is back in place. Alastair is continuing to taunt him. Dean tells Alastair, “You can’t stall forever,” but it’s clear that Dean is the one who’s stalling, arranging the various tools on his cart, taking off & folding his jacket carefully, trying to work himself up to this. Alastair sighs wistfully over the impossibility of breaking John Winchester (even after a hundred years!) and muses that, afterwards, he expected Dean to be just as difficult to break. He gets a sly smile on his face, reminiscing that, instead, “Daddy’s little girl” broke in a fraction of that time. Dean opens a bottle of whiskey and drinks straight from the bottle, clearly lost in dark memories. His head is down and he’s practically radiating shame as Alastair coos, “Just not the man your daddy wanted you to be, huh, Dean?”

Dean is good at turning shame into anger, though, and he sets the bottle back down a little harder than is necessary. His hands are moving with intention among his instruments now — no more stalling. Alastair crows, “Now… now we’re getting somewhere!” Then he scoffs at Dean for starting with holy water: “Grasshopper, you’re gonna have to get creative to impress me.”

This gets Dean’s attention. He looks straight at Alastair for the first time since we came back to this scene, his eyes alight, and says, “You know something, Alastair? I could still dream, even in Hell. And, over and over and over, you know what I dreamt?” Cut to Alastair, his face twitching in a nervous reaction. Back to Dean, who says sincerely — fervently — “I dreamt of this moment.” Cut to Alastair: The corners of his mouth are turned down; apprehension lurks in his eyes. Cut to Dean: “And believe me…” his lips curl up into a brief smile as he screws together the pieces of the syringe, voice practically dripping with a lust for cruelty, “I got a few ideas.” 

We cut between the syringe filling with holy water & Alastair’s face. His expression is fully apprehensive now. As excited as he is to lead Dean down an evil path, Alastair is not actually eager to experience his student's mastery of the art from this end. Dean flicks the syringe a couple times and tests the flow, his mouth dropping open slightly as holy water squirts from the tip. We don’t get the sense that he’s stalling now, though. Now, when he takes his time, it’s because he’s savoring the moment. He walks up to Alastair, rakes his eyes up Alastair’s body, and says – with the syringe held high and the ghost of a smile on his face – “Let’s get started.”

Cut to Cas, who looks disturbed at the sounds coming from the room. (Note: Cuts during the torture sequences allow for the passage of time. It could be minutes or hours before we cut back.) When we come back to the makeshift cell, Dean is now — for the first time — the one taunting Alastair: “Let me know if you want some more... There’s plenty left.” Alastair snarls, “Go directly to hell. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200.” Dean looks down, chuckling slightly, smiles to himself. It’s clear he’s past just doing a job that needs done and well into indulging in sadism. He's not even asking Alastair questions anymore — the only thing he's thinking about is his desire to cause Alastair pain.

Thus, we see the first 2 steps in breaking Dean Winchester achieved: 1) getting Dean to agree to begin torturing again & 2) provoking him into letting loose & indulging in the sadism of that torture, which he finds to be as bad as (or worse than) the torture itself.

TL;DR Rather than being unemotional, Dean is in fact deeply emotionally-invested in torturing the one who tortured him for decades. He wants to torture Alastair & he derives great pleasure from causing him pain. However, Dean's also deeply ashamed of that pleasure & disgusted by the sadistic streak cultivated in him in Hell. (Prior to season 4, we see him express similar disgust for sadism in others — most notably, Gordon.) This episode pits Dean's morality against his desire for revenge, with the angels tipping the scales against him & giving Dean just enough rope to hang himself with.

Part 1 of 2

#dean winchester #spn #character analysis #alastair #torture #on the head of a pin #spn meta #understanding dean winchester

[togamzee]

Being convincing was the hardest part. A part he played well, but a hard one nonetheless. 

He wasn’t particularly attracted to men, much less the security guard who’d been eyeing him too closely for too many years. 

But for the chance of escape, Wakatoshi Kaworu put his general disgust aside. He could sell this. He’d been planting the idea for weeks, using subtle suggestive looks and brushes of skin and comments towards the older man he was sure weren’t going unnoticed. And when the time finally came for Oguri’s night on solo duty, he purposefully left his door ajar after curfew, and counted the seconds until the man’s steady footsteps made their way down the corridor to his cell.

It was a really nice cell, at least. 

Kaworu listened to the silence from the bed, draping himself casually in the corner with a book in hand. Red eyes stared blankly down at the pages while he listened, and he made an active effort to keep his heart from thumping out of control. This would be Oguri’s final round, before he went outside on his thirty minute break to smoke. Afterwards, he resumed security duties from inside the office. 

Bless Hattori Sachio’s fucking heart. The academic track remained superior, as always. He wasn’t sure what would become of his friend after tonight, should his hand as an accomplice ever come to light. Sachio reassured him at the time, though–when he gave him the layout of the night guard schedules and routines, promising he was going unmonitored while doing so. That alone could have been a death sentence, but Sachio seemed confident. Rightfully so, for one reason or another, as the two had still been partnered on the following assignment. He wasn’t particularly enthused, but Sachio outlined the fact that luring the man into his room and putting him in an unguarded situation was the only probable way to escape the facility without dying. 

By God, he’d take it. The man was only steps away. 

Kaworu stopped himself from grinning when Oguri pushed himself inside the door as opposed to closing it. He let his unnaturally red eyes slowly trace up from the book and over the guard, stretching his legs out to get himself up off of his bed with a lazy stretch. He set the book aside on the nightstand, free hand running through his silken mess of white hair. 

“I thought you were scared, Oguri. I wondered if you were ever going to see me,” he purred, facing the gruff older man, who didn’t reply. Kaworu pouted, brow furrowed with a dejected dip of his head. “And so stern…”

“Bratty dog,” Oguri growled, roughly grabbing his wrist and pulling him into an equally rough kiss. He could have vomited at that, but the screaming of opportunity in his ears kept his movements smooth and easy in spite of the insult; and he pulled the man onto the bed with him without breaking his mouth away. He highly doubted Oguri would let him get on top, so he laid back and let the man crawl and clamber over him, revealing his throat at a crucial angle Kaworu had been just waiting to see. If he wanted to call him a dog, then…

He lunged up, and promptly clamped his teeth around the man’s jugular, biting down through the searing cry and thrashes until flesh tore, blood pooling and falling through the newfound gaping wound and coating him entirely. The sensation wasn’t anything new, even if he’d never used this exact methodology before. He spat the bloody chunk of neck and throat away, adrenaline soaring through his veins to remove himself from under the man's heaving body. He took a few steps back from Oguri who grasped and clawed at his neck, all while Kaworu grinned and wiped at the blood covering his face and mouth. “Dumbass,” he spat, in an attempt to remove the taste of the creep. 

He didn’t want to stick around to watch him die. Couldn’t, really, since he wasn’t sure exactly how many others near or far from here would be paying attention to the cameras at this hour. There was still the ever present possibility of remote detonation for the bomb attached to his neck at any moment; the brief amount of time before he could access Sachio’s promised workaround. Quickly, Kaworu took a step in and felt for the man’s facility clearance card in his pocket, taking that and his gun and hurriedly bolting from the room while the life left inside it died. 

Kaworu ran down the hall with his heart racing. If he had it in him to be benevolent, he’d let out the two other caged dogs in this cell block. While that could potentially keep the pair from being tasked to pursue him as soon as any one of the handlers returned in the morning…he didn’t care to let the others reap the benefits from his risk taking. 

He was leaving for himself, anyway–even if he had nowhere to run. He knew that anywhere was better than here–a feeling prompted unexpectedly, some weeks past, put in place at the sight of the ocean from the target’s seaside villa. Only then, in the 15 years since he’d been dropped off at this god forsaken prison, it dawned on him he hadn’t seen it before. There was too much he hadn’t seen. Wouldn’t see if he stayed. He wasn’t sure why the body of water made his spirit so restless, but…

He didn’t particularly care. It'd been months since his handler, Zusa Kashin, had bothered using Paramide on him, anyway. Being a good dog came with rewards, and if he didn’t have to get pricked in the neck, setting his veins ablaze, each and every time he set foot outside of the facility, well…he’d do whatever trick he’d be asked to perform with his tail wagging. Wakatoshi Kaworu was well aware of his status as the best dog; which made his grin all the wider when the elevator at the end of the hall opened for Oguri’s access card. He immediately looked up at the security camera, sticking his tongue out and flipping off the pinpoint red light with both hands. Fuck them. Let them watch the footage back and feel stupid for having a stupid horny guard on their staff, and letting him guard it alone, even just for one night. He was getting out of here.

The elevator stopped at the first floor, and per Sachio’s instructions, Kaworu immediately bolted to the right, towards the backroom with the employee lockers. Oguri wouldn’t have his personal keys on him while guarding, so his belongings should be safely stored in locker 2B–alongside a magnetic device Sachio managed somehow to plant hours prior. 

With another satisfying beep of confirmation using Oguri’s card, Kaworu could have squealed. He reached for the magnet, snickering some at the Aizawa insignia, marveling at the stolen tech. It sat perfectly atop the dead guards jacket, and he held it up near the titanium affixed to his neck. It quickly snapped into place, creating only the slightest notable ridge from the smooth, fitted, unmovable lightweight metal he’d grown entirely accustomed to. Kaworu ran his fingers over it for a few moments, and wished Sachio could hear how many times he’d fervently sang his praises in his mind. If this safeguard worked, his head wouldn’t explode when he left the building, and he wouldn’t be trackable. Still not wanting to play with time, he grabbed the keys and the man’s wallet from the locker, and headed for the main entrance doors he hadn’t seen in 15 years. 

15 years ago, Kaworu was 9. 

“Bye, baby. We’re going to miss you and think of you every day, okay?” His mom cooed. She held both sides of his face, her first son’s wide blue eyes staring cluelessly back up at her. “Because of you, we get to live. Remember that. We love you. Be well.”

He didn’t understand why he was left alone with an unfamiliar adult, ushered into a foreign building. He didn’t have time to wonder. He was promptly taken into a medical unit, drugged and affixed with a band of metal around his neck, the likes of which he’d heard of only in whispers and gossip on the estate’s grounds, often following the hushed disappearance of a child. 

He supposed it was his turn to be a rumor. 

It didn’t seem so bad, to start. Aside from the collar. The lady escorting him through the halls was kind and sweet–and she had a collar, too. At the end of the tour, he was brought into a room he’d share with another boy his age–Hattori Sachio. Kaworu recognized him from somewhere back at the estate, he thought, though neither could recall the exact circumstances as they discussed into the evening, after lights out. Kaworu wondered if that had something to do with the collars–the fact that he now couldn’t seem to bring back complete memories of his home. He had a vague idea, and much like Sachio, could recall bits…but it felt distant. Unimportant.

Soon enough, the only thing he really found important was the facilities testing, and what placement he’d receive amongst the others in their class. Whether he’d be in athletics or academics. Kaworu had a boisterous demeanor, loud and antagonizing, more suited to catching a ball than reading a book. It didn’t deter him from remaining close friends with Sachio, who tended to be his polar opposite in all regards. It came as no surprise when they turned 12, their tracks and placements solidified. Kaworu, first in athletics, Sachio, first in academics. 

The injections started shortly thereafter. A faculty member in control of some small magnetic device caused the titanium on his neck to shift, allowing an opening for the prick of a needle to tap into the dominant vein on the right side of his neck. He immediately gasped at the sensation of burning heat like he’d never felt scouring through his blood. He’d been instructed not to move, to stay put and still. The venom made it nearly impossible, yet he did. 

Kaworu’s only adverse effect to the treatments was the gradual turning and eventual replacement of the blue pigment in his eyes with a startling red. Incredibly rare, but not entirely unheard of, he was told, though he was the only one to continue living with the unnatural hue. Sachio, ever the best friend, said it made him a textbook albino. Sachio could have been meaner, if he wanted–the blond experienced some vision loss, a more common effect, one Kaworu found arguably worse. He didn’t mind his red eyes. Really, he liked them. They made him scary. It was fun to be scary on the athletic track. Especially as the years progressed, as more sparring partners surrendered to his attacks in all fronts of combat. While he was still receiving some degree of textbook education, the vast majority of his time and study was devoted to his physical abilities. The injections preceded all. No matter how many times his neck was pricked, day in and day out, the burn never subsided, never became more tolerable in the way of repeated exposure. 

He thought–surely, at graduation, they’d be free from the injections. Hopefully. Graduates had to go somewhere else, and the staff (as always) refused to answer questions about their future. All he and his peers had to go off of was that the 18 year olds disappeared. Sachio seemed convinced they’d enter a work force, as they’d been obviously prepping for it in some manner. It made sense.

For the most part, it was true. 

The academic track was cleared to leave and carry out a relatively normal existence, while remaining employed with the conglomerate. There were conditions and stipulations, of course. Sachio was by no means a free man. Still, he got to live in an apartment in the city; and be the voice in Kaworu’s ear while he, too, remained employed for the six years following their graduation from the facilities academy.

In the same way an attack dog was employed. Assignments started off small, like they did with all the other athletics, but he quickly worked his way into their extremely targeted, violent endeavors. Whether it was the Wakajima’s political or business rivals, Wakatoshi Kaworu was tasked with eliminating certain members of those parties with blatant intent to send a brutal message. He did not perform clean kills. Much like the throatless man in his prison cell, the bodies left in his wake would be torn and ripped and shredded, often by hand (with some allotted use of a knife), entrails dragged, whatever specifics Zusa Kashin ordered into his ears while Paramide rushed his system. 

As far as handlers went, Kashin was a particularly creative, demented one. He also believed in relaxing the leash after a job well done. Kaworu had always been quietly grateful the man would let him out to a bar or a club on their assignments, letting him get some vague semblance of normalcy, a taste at interacting in public. It also made him more obedient. 

So much so, a few months ago, Kashin experimented in not giving him the injection at all. When the burn didn’t come but Kashin’s orders did, Kaworu didn’t question it. If he was going to end up clawing his way around in a chest cavity regardless, he may as well do it without the burning in his veins. 

That oddly kind act on Kashin’s part may have very well led to this, though. His escape in the dead of night. If he’d been still under residual influence, who’s to say the ocean would have penetrated his mind the way it did? And while he prayed to never see Kashin’s scarred face again, he may have to thank him if he did. 

His mother had told him to be well. Kaworu was well, alright. His head didn’t explode when he burst through the facility doors. He didn’t look back while repeatedly clicking the unlock button on Oguri’s keys, tracing the sound to the man's car in the lot.Throwing himself into the black SUV, he didn’t hesitate to start the engine, quiet laughter emanating from his throat. 

I did it. 

He grinned wildly, reversing and speeding out of the lot. 

I did it. 

He did it, and he had no clue where to go. Far from here, first. He wished he could go to Sachio, but that wouldn’t be safe for either of them–and he liked to imagine that his friend would get away with helping him escape. Even if he could never know otherwise. Maybe not for some time, anyway. 

He’d head for the coast. The ocean opened his eyes, hadn’t it? So he’d go there first.

[that-yandere-life]

I think this could be an interesting request if your up for it. How would Eddie/Venom react when they find out that their s/o is a virgin and she is actually pretty much afraid of sleeping with them, mainly because of Venom? Like, they've never done it before and now their in a relationship with a dude that has a straight up symbiote that wants to join in on the deed too and the thought of sex is already a lot for her but now she's staright up freaking out. Feel free to ignore this if you want😅

[Warnings: Yandere Themes *Obviously*, SMUT with a vagina owning individual (no gender actually mentioned), first times, talks of virginity.]

Eddie won’t be the type of guy to push any sort of agenda when it comes to sex, he will totally wait until you are completely ready.

Venom on the other hand gets very needy in more ways than just for food, he wants affection of both the intimate sort and the sexual kind.

Constantly putting ideas into Eddie’s mind, creating fantasies in his dreams as he slumbers peacefully, waking up harder than a diamond.

Trying desperately to explain to Venom that they can’t act that way especially after you told them that you were a virgin so you were rightfully apprehensive about reaching that step.

Not to mention it’s not just a man you are contending with, it’s a symbiote too and you have no idea the logistics that would be needed to make that happen.

Of course you understood that you would eventually need to have a rather difficult conversation for you to engage in especially since you were going to be asking questions you didn’t know if you wanted the answer to.

All culminating one night when the two of you were making out on the couch, Eddie’s hand subconsciously sliding up your thigh, stopping when you placed a firm grasp on top of it.

Apologizing profusely for making you seemingly uncomfortable, that wasn’t his intention but he wasn’t thinking either and just going by instinct and that was wrong.

Stuttering over his words you couldn’t help but find it sweet just how concerned he was about offending you with his actions, really you just needed to get some things off your chest before proceeding.

Asking how it would work if you guys were to finally reach that step in your relationship, which deep down you truly were ready you were just scared but who wouldn’t be?

Venom was trying to break through and talk about his filthiest desires that he had been waiting to unleash but Eddie forced him to stop before he could really scare you off.

Explaining how they wouldn’t do anything that you weren’t comfortable with, knowing that it would be a gradual process until you were open to having both of them enter the mix.

While Venom would want to get involved immediately he also could tell that it was him that you were most concerned with, after all it wasn’t everyday humans encountered beings like himself.

It was nearly painful for him to admit that he would have to stay out of it until you were at a place where you believed he could join even if it made you nervous to try it.

Feeling some relief that finally his alter ego seemed to understand the gravity of the situation at hand and how serious this was to the longevity of their partnership with you.

Speaking up you asked how that made Venom feel somewhat nervously playing with your fingers eagerly awaiting his response.

Grumbling under his breath he mustered out a reassurance that he would be willing to wait and let you and Eddie take the reins, at least for your first time.

Making you feel a little better, but also kind of guilty that you wouldn’t be including a crucial part of your significant other, not wanting him to feel left out letting a grudge grow between them.

Able to see the confliction on your features Eddie gently touched your shoulder making you meet his gaze giving you a nod indicating that everything was okay, and that they were more concerned about you than their own pleasure.

Despite what Venom wants to think it holds true for him too, while he desperately wants to be with you in your most vulnerable state he doesn’t want to put you through distress for it to happen.

Taking a deep breath you steadied your nerves for a moment before swinging your leg over his straddling his lap, running your fingers through his hair as if you were testing the waters.

Never before had you been in this position and you could feel a rather impressive bulge beneath you causing you to swallow harshly at the sensation, one you had only encountered in the privacy of your own bedroom.

Grinding down on him, his hands flying to your hips mostly to ground himself as a moan passed through his lips, biting the lower one trying to maintain his little remaining composure.

Dragging your fingers up his chest placing them back in his wild tresses pressing your mouth to his, tongues dancing against the other fighting for dominance giving way to Eddie in the end.

Switching the position eventually laying you down on the couch, hovering over you as he ripped off his shirt revealing his decently toned torso, leaning you up removing your own leaving you bared to him for the first time.

Hands trailing from your face down, resting his fingertips on the top of your waistband, lifting up your hips as he attempted to drag them down, now completely nude under his watchful eye.

Deciding he didn’t get all of the fun you grab his belt undoing the buckle, rolling the zipper down painfully slow needlessly teasing him.

Finally he yanked them down, leaving him just as stark naked as you, trying to imagine him fitting inside of you wondering if it was actually possible.

Chuckling a little he kisses your cheek before grazing your inner thighs, slipping his fingers between them beginning to rub you sensually, taking his time with you.

Small centric circles at an increasing speed on your clit, causing involuntary groans to fill the air, every positive sound spurring him on before lightly slipping a finger inside of you beginning to stretch you out.

Wincing a little he watched his ministrations wanting to ensure that you would eventually feel pleasure take over instead of the pain you were experiencing at the moment.

Before adding another finger he took the initial one out placing it and the next one in his mouth lubricating them with his own saliva before returning to your sensitive core.

Continuing his actions until he felt that you were at a point where it was time to switch over, pumping his cock in his hand, asking breathlessly if you were ready for more.

Nodding towards him, he demanded that you use your words needing to hear a confirmation from your own mouth that this is what you wanted.

Replying that you were sure and that it was okay he felt a genuine smile grow on his face as he lined himself up with you, moving it up and down collecting some of your wetness on the tip.

Pushing it lightly in hearing you gasp and grip the cushion beneath you, he softly talked you through it, as he gradually put a little more inside, inch by inch until he bottomed out, not daring to move.

Once you had adjusted you tapped his arm letting him know that you wanted him to start moving, initially it felt like you were being ripped apart, tears filling your eyes until it started to have a bloom of pleasure underlying.

Kissing your tears away he picked up his pace, trying desperately to keep it together but you felt so good it was hard for him to focus, thankfully Venom’s gruff input brought him back to the task at hand.

Leaning down further matching his lips to yours yet again, all of the passion he was exuding was apparent in every movement, eventually your hips arched up meeting his thrusts causing a whole new sensation for both of you.

Hitting exactly where you needed him to, over and over again until it felt like your stomach was going to explode from the pressure, snapping like a rubber band you were thrown over the edge.

Nails digging into his forearms as you cried out, the way you squeezed around him as you came, throwing him into his own orgasm, filling you to the brim with every ounce he possibly could.

Nearly collapsing on top of you, pecking your forehead asking if you were okay, wanting to make sure that he didn’t hurt you too badly in the beginning.

Relaxing as you confirmed that you were alright, and that it actually was a good experience, shuffling so that he was laying next to you holding you tightly in his arms as he slowly pulled out of you.

Knowing full well there was about to be a mess that he would need to clean up later, but it was beyond worth it for what just happened, needing to catch his breath for a moment before going to run a bath for you to bathe your sore muscles in.

Mentioning how much he loved you, and thanking you for allowing him to be your first, promising to never mess up what the two of you share, soon to be three Venom adds in the depths of his mind.

[Part of me wanted to have Venom included but I also feel like someone wouldn't want that as part of their first time, so if you want another where Venom joins the next time let me know! I hope that you enjoy, and that it was what you were looking for! <3]

#yandere eddie brock #yandere eddie brock x reader #yandere marvel #yandere venom #yandere venom x reader

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 3.4k WARNINGS: ANGST (i think it’s just minor though), police and prosecution procedures (someone gets arrested).

a/n: disclaimer!! once again, i am in no way well-versed with investigations and trial procedures. please correct me i have made any mistakes. and!! if you noticed, i made revisions at part 7. our boo seungkwan is a prosecutor at the supreme prosecutor’s office instead of the justice department. they’re completely different agencies. anyway, this part will either make or break our couple. please send me what you think!! i hope you enjoy <3

eight: for all the wrong reasons | masterlist

Whatever you’re doing right now would probably go against Seungkwan’s superior’s orders and oath to the Supreme Prosecutor’s Office. But does he care? He doesn’t. Is he scared? He’s not. He never was, unless he’s engaging in something definitely illegal. Well, speaking about a particular case outside the circle of his office in the first place is already illegal. But you are inside and within the office already. Seungkwan will take care of the consequences later

Seungkwan is simple and quick enough to suggest meeting with you at the conference room of their building. He knows you and how much you want to know about this case. This is just a favor he’s returning because he’s grateful that the information you have about the victims made him one step closer to solving and ending this nightmare. 

The prosecutor also invited Wonwoo which could only mean that there are matters that involve the neighboring kingdom and that made you worry. It’s already shameful that this is happening within your kingdom’s territory. But to harm the people of the neighboring kingdom is a different kind of shame and disgust. Everything about this is shameful and disgusting. 

You could go straight to Their Majesties and talk about this, but the Prime Minister already released a statement earlier this morning to appease the public. After much colorful words and apologies, the Royal Family has pledged to cooperate in any investigation and invitation to the court. If you’re being honest, that’s good to hear. If you’re being a lawyer, that only means someone is guilty. 

Seungkwan is currently connecting his laptop to the projector in the background and as he’s about to finish, you can’t help but feel nervous. You were playing with your fingers when Wonwoo placed his hand on yours. He seems to have taken note of your actions whenever you feel a certain way and following that, he seems to finally know how to react to them.

It’s a relief that he’s here even though he shouldn’t have to. More than anyone else, you’re ashamed to be in front of Wonwoo. Ever since you met Jung and Sam, Wonwoo has been nothing but supportive and faithful. Although he has always been, it just got amplified this time around. You ask yourself, if you were to be with someone potentially involved in a crime syndicate, would you stay? Would you believe in them? Would you fight with them? 

You also wish you could ask Wonwoo that. But, a big part of you is afraid to know the obvious answer.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks and the squeeze he gives your hand frees your mind from the scary thoughts plaguing it.

You squeeze his hand back and nod. “Yeah. Just a little tired.”

Wonwoo doesn’t press you any further and just nudges the strands of hair that’s been tickling your eyes. 

It’s right then Seungkwan clears his throat and takes his stand at the podium. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

You sit up straight and lean your elbows on the desk, all ears for what he has to say. 

“Tomorrow, at 12:00 in the afternoon, the Supreme Prosecutor’s Office together with the Justice Department will release a joint statement regarding this case. Today, I will brief you with the findings and facts of the initial investigation because I know we are all curious,” he starts before pressing the next arrow key on his laptop. “After this meeting, however, I won’t be able to disclose to you the developments of this case anymore because a week from now, the first trial will be held.

“I have requested the presence of His Highness, Prince Wonwoo, for this is something that concerns his people,” he continues to flash the next slide, “It has been confirmed by Immigration that the prime suspects and victims are citizens of the neighboring kingdom. The prosecution has already requested to Their Majesties of the neighboring Kingdom to grant us the right to investigate and try the prime suspects within our jurisdiction before we deport them. The request was granted and the prosecution is given 94 days to do what we should and what we can.”

You turn to Wonwoo to gauge his reaction. He meets your eyes and just nods, telling the two of you that the presentation can go on. You bring your attention back to Seungkwan and he proceeds to the next slide. 

“According to the orphanage, the victims were adopted earlier this year with complete and legal documents. So we can understand that technically, they weren’t smuggled,” he explains and points at the mentioned documents flashed on the screen. “Right now, we are investigating the following departments: Trade and Industry, Immigration, and Justice. Alongside with that, we are also investigating the orphanage, the Cabinet and,” a brief pause, “the Royal Family.”

The Royal Emblem flashed on the screen and it didn't look as moral as it used to when Seungkwan ended his presentation. You have no basis to make such claims, but you can’t be blamed either. You want to cry and scream because the anger is too much to bear. But you swallow everything and remain silent. 

“We understand that Her Highness expressed her desire to represent the victims, however the court cannot allow that,” Seungkwan says regretfully before announcing, “We would like to inform you that you could be summoned one of these days,” he then turns to Wonwoo,  “Furthermore, the victims will be interviewed and we ask His Highness to let Social Services take care of them. We respect your attachment and concern for them, but it is of utmost importance that they are in our custody.”

Wonwoo complies with a nod and asks one last question, “Is it confirmed that it’s a violation of the Protection of Children against Abuse, Exploitation and Discrimination Act?” 

Seungkwan nods and sighs, dejected. “The prime suspects are making it difficult, but we’re sure that it is.”

“Don’t you have to go back to the hospital today?” You ask Wonwoo while you drape your coat on your office chair. 

“I took the day off,” he answers and makes himself comfortable on one of the couches. 

You nod and press the on button of your computer. “I’d love you to stay, but I mean it when I say that you won’t have a blast lounging here.”

Wonwoo laughs and the sound of it makes you smile. You watch him lean his head back against the soft cushion and close his eyes. You’re sure he’s thinking about it as much as you do. And it’s only making him even more tired than he already is. You breathe out a sigh and amble your way to take the space beside him. 

“Go home and sleep,” you whisper and gingerly tap his cheek. 

Wonwoo holds your wrist and nestles his face close to your palm. He opens his eyes shortly after and his gaze has got you blinking in surprise, making him grin. You give his cheek a playful pinch to which he groans against.

You only let go when he sits up straight and turns his body to you. He takes your hands and pulls you closer, your knees touching his.  “I’m actually going home, home tonight.”

You stiffen, aware of where this conversation is going. “Oh.”

“My family wants me present as they discuss this whole case,” he says while his fingers stroke the back of your hand. “It won’t be long though. Three days tops.”

You silently nod, keeping your eyes at your intertwined hands. You don’t have any recollection of talking about your engagement ring. It doesn’t have any history with Wonwoo’s ancestors of some sort. But, you know that he chose it with his father. It’s a stainless steel silver band, no diamond visible. But the words for eternity engraved on the inner portion is made of it. 

You’re suddenly afraid that the shine is already tarnished and you’d have to remove it. 

The two of you don’t need to admit and say everything out loud. But, your engagement is already tested and whatever the court rules is crucial for the survival of your relationship. You’re already uneasy because you don’t see yourself letting go of Wonwoo. You can’t let go of Wonwoo. But now he’s going home and you’re not so confident in what his parents would say. 

What if they don’t deem you fit to marry their Crowned Prince anymore?

“I have something to give you.” Wonwoo lets go of your one hand to pull out something from his pocket, making you bring your gaze back at him. He holds it in a fist and flips your other hand with your palm upwards. You were looking into his eyes when something cold met the warmth of your skin. 

It’s a necklace. 

“A promise of my return,” he says and fold your palms, your turn to hold it in a fist. “I know a lifebuoy doesn’t symbolize that, but you get my point.”

His wit relaxes the tensed atmosphere, making you giggle. “Thank you. I love it.”

Wonwoo regards you with a fond smile and slowly leans close to your face, the tip of his nose bumping against yours before finally pressing a tentative kiss on your lips. One peck, followed by a second and on the third he holds your jaw to continue. Your whole body grows hot as his kisses deepen and you kiss him back with the same fervor. It didn’t take long for him to nip and swipe his tongue at your bottom lip, a plea to allow him to kiss you further. You yield and your heart has never beat so fast. 

You clutch the necklace he gave you against his chest while your other hand smooths against his neck. Every day that you’re with Wonwoo, you wish for it to never end. Whenever he holds your hand, keeps you close by an arm around your waist and breathlessly kisses you; you want them always. You want him. You lov---

You stop yourself right there because you’re not ready to take the fall. 

At the same time, Wonwoo hesitantly pulls away from your lips but his forehead remains against yours. “Wait for me?” he whispers, lips still grazing yours. 

You seal your yes with another kiss.

Jeongyeon holds her breath as she waits for your next question. You called her to your office to have an impromptu quiz game. This is not a traditional occurrence at your law firm but you figured that it wouldn’t be a waste of time to review your paralegal as the case is still on-going and the three day leave of your fiancé ends today.

“According to the Mining Act, foreigners are allowed to invest in mining activities of the kingdom. True or false?”

“I know this!” Jeongyeon shouts and raises her hand, asking for a moment. “False?”

You grin and give her a thumbs up. “Correct!”

“Yes!” She jumps and punches her fist up in the air. 

So far, she hasn’t given a single wrong answer and that makes you proud. You watch her dance excitedly around your office when your phone suddenly vibrates inside your pocket. Letting go of your questionnaire, you take it out and the message on the screen brings a smile on your face. 

j.ww: will be back tonight. dinner?

: can’t say no to that.

Wonwoo never failed to send you text messages or give you calls the past three days he was gone. They were always brief, but enough to assure you that you’re always on his mind. It’s a little corny for your age, but you can’t deny it gave you a sense of peace and security. It made your heart flutter as well but you’ll never say it out loud. 

Finally, he’ll be back tonight. You missed him so much and him not coming back didn’t fail to cross your mind each day. You’re hoping whatever he may have discussed with his parents concluded on a positive note. 

“Your Highness?” 

When you look up, you didn’t expect a tall man, wearing an all black suit, with sunglasses covering his eyes to greet you. You stand properly and put your phone back inside your coat pocket. 

“He didn’t have an appointment,” Jeongyeon sheepishly says. “But he insisted.”

The stranger removes his shades and gives you a smile. “Good day, Your Highness. My name is Kim Mingyu and I wish to seek your legal advice.”

“So Mr. Kim, you want to start a business in our kingdom?”

Kim Mingyu is from the neighboring kingdom who’s apparently rich enough to venture to different kingdoms to expand his business and well, make himself richer. Foreigners are welcomed and allowed to establish their business here so long as they abide by the laws of the land. You have had foreign clients of that kind before, asking how to navigate around without facing legal disputes.

Some are nice and genuine, some are the opposite.

Kim Mingyu seems to be the latter.

Mingyu shakes his head as he sips at the iced water he requested. You can hear the ice cubes crushing as he chews on them and you’re regretting not declining his request for a consultation. This man exudes nothing but conceit and you honestly don’t have the time to stroke his ego. He chugs the whole glass before leaning his arms on the table. Meanwhile, you stayed composed with your back straight even though you’re starting to grow irritated at his actions. 

“No, Your Highness,” he answers. “I already have a business here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Then, what do you require my services for?”

He leans back on the chair again and crosses his arms. “I just want to improve it, but in a legal kind of way.”

“Okay,” you say under your breath, unsure if he’s bluffing you or not. “May I ask what’s your business, Mr. Kim?”

“Mining.”

A stunned silence befalls between the two of you. Is he serious?

“Mr. Kim, you have a mining business in this kingdom?” You try to clarify because maybe you heard him wrong. 

He gives you a high and mighty nod, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“Foreigners are not allowed to engage in mining activities in this kingdom, Mr. Kim,” you remind him, your tone cold.

He shrugs his shoulders and gives you a sinister smirk. “It’s not that hard when you have someone powerful allowing it.”

You are numb and in denial. 

Kim Mingyu is messing with your head, you try to make excuses to keep yourself sane as you run to the car and tell the driver to head straight to the Royal Residences. You don’t even know who that guy is. You don’t have any confirmation of his identity at all. He’s just stirring you up to get a reaction from you. You can’t be vulnerable and you’ll never be. The only way to do that is to stay rational and ask the people he mentioned yourself. 

Your phone is attached to your ear as you wait for Seungkwan to answer. He’s taking rather a while to answer than he used to but it’s okay. You just need to tell him your so-called visitor’s name earlier and maybe he can tell you something, anything, that can ease the growing fear inside your system.

“Your Highness,” he finally answers, just in time when the driver stops at the entryway of the house. You can hear someone shouting from the other line, but you ignore it.

“Seungkwan, do you perhaps know a guy named Kim MIngyu?” You ask and walk your way through the opened and unguarded doors. Odd, you thought, but you ignored it again and continued sprinting to the receiving area. “He was at my office earlier saying some crap about illegal mining, can you loo---”

Handcuffs.

And dozens of men in uniform surrounding your father, The King, made you stop on your tracks. 

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me.” 

But you can’t because this one man with a piece of paper held by one of his hands is talking to your father.

“His Majesty, King XXX, you are under arrest for aiding and allowing the presence and access of foreign nationals and businesses to the mineral resources of this Kingdom, a violation of the Mining Act of 19xx. You have the right to an attorney and in the event that you don’t, the Kingdom will provide you one. You have the right to remain silent and if you waive your right, anything you say can be used for or against you in court.”

 “Y/N?”

You heard what the Royal Police said, loud and clear. You also saw how your father stood up and comply, surrendering his hands to the man holding the handcuffs. When he finally raises his head and meets your eyes, your arm weakens making you drop your phone. Your father shows you a tight smile and quick nod, a false promise that everything will be okay.

You watch, frozen, as they take your father away and all you can hear is the sobs of your mother who couldn’t do anything to save her husband.

The very moment the press took hold of your father’s quiet arrest, it became a mess outside of the residences. News reporters from various broadcasting stations have positioned themselves in front of the camera, making use of your home as their background as they tell the whole nation about the downfall of The King. 

Seungkwan’s words were frantic but painfully true. He has informed you that the prime suspects have dropped the names of every public figure involved in their crime and yes, that includes your father. They were able to present strong evidence in a short period of time, turning the tables and causing chaos at the prosecution. 

Seungkwan told you to stay put and let the Prime Minister do his job. But he wasn’t able to tell you that everything is under control and that your father may just be falsely accused. 

Because he’s not. 

You can see from the window that civilians have joined the crowd and they are livid. You haven’t said a word, you haven’t sat down, you haven’t done anything since you arrived. Your mother is inconsolable and all of the crying has exhausted her, making her faint. If it’s a mess outside what more inside this house with nothing but an eerie silence that’s crumbling you down. 

Eventually, your family will have to face the people you swore to serve with nothing but honesty. When that time comes, will you even have a face to show? Will you have the strength to see their disappointment and distrust? 

What about Wonwoo? What would he think of your father whom he respected? What about his parents who regarded your family with high praises? You tightly gripped on the necklace Wonwoo gave you as you imagined the endless scenarios that could likely end everything. You tightly gripped onto the lifebuoy pendant, holding onto what is left if there’s still at all.

“Your Highness, Prince Wonwoo has arrived.”

Wonwoo looked like he was dragging his whole body from how tired he has been over the past three days. But his pace quickened when he finally saw you. He drops his bag and coat with a resounding thud on the floor and races to meet you halfway and take you in his arms.

His firm embrace swept you off your feet and the only thing that’s helping him to breathe your scent is your arms locked around his neck. 

“What did Seungkwan say? I only heard about it on my way here.” Wonwoo removed his arms from your waist and opted to rub your arms who grew limp by your sides. 

“He couldn’t disclose the full details,” you answer and your head hangs low in humiliation. “My father will be dethroned and worse, imprisoned.”

Wonwoo couldn’t say anything to comfort or correct you and it’s okay. He wants to but you tell him through your eyes that he doesn’t have to. You have thought about it already. You have accepted your father’s fate and most importantly, the fate of your marriage. Wonwoo and his family doesn’t deserve to be entangled with your family’s disgraceful incompetence and lies. 

Maybe you and Wonwoo were betrothed for all the wrong reasons.

So with hot tears streaming down your face and heartbreak tearing you apart, you ask him again. 

“Do you really want to marry me Wonwoo?”

#seventeen #wonwoo #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen imagines #wonwoo imagines #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #fic: ifliys

[thekingslover]

Jetski For Sale (Lokius fic)

He stops riding the jetski.

He keeps it on the small trailer at the end of his driveway beside his modest split-level home and covers it with a blue tarp.

Every morning, in his brown button-up pajamas and a bathrobe, he walks to the end of the driveway and collects the morning paper. He’s careful to hold his coffee mug steady as he leans down, but he always manages to spill a drop or two. His slippers are covered in tiny coffee spots.

He tucks the newspaper under his arm and turns back toward his house. He left the television on; through the window, the screen flashes with the bright white letters, Breaking News! Two houses down, his neighbor is already out mowing the lawn. Further away, a dog barks.

Though he lives alone, it’s a perfect life. Everything’s simple. His mortgage is affordable. His brown sedan is paid off. And the jetski...

He doesn’t remember buying it. He always wanted one, dreamed of it. He had a savings set aside for someday. Yet... his savings is still there, and he still has this jetski.

He looks at it now, at the way it bulges under the tarp. A shame to leave it like that. He should take it out again. But the last time he did that...

Shaking his head, he walks back to the house. He drinks his coffee and reads his newspaper. He goes to work, comes home, goes to sleep, and does it all again the next day.

“Something’s different about you,” his sister says on the phone, their weekly call. “You sound different.”

“Same old me.” He’s good at keeping back his feelings and pushing forward the cheer.

She knows, though. Older sisters always seem to. “Are you sure you haven’t been seeing anyone lately?”

This sends him laughing. “A secret boyfriend? Come on, you have quite an imagination on you.”

“Laugh all you want,” she says, stern. She’s not backing down, though her voice does soften as she adds, “It’s only that you... Well, you sound... heartbroken.”

“That’s...” He should deny it. He hasn’t dated anyone in a good long while, but, well, now that she mentions it... He’s had his heart broken before, long ago, and it felt a little something like this. Like something crucial is suddenly missing. Like you spent so much time learning someone and adapting to them, shaping whole parts of your life around them, and then they are just... gone.

There’s a person-sized hole in his life now, but he can’t quite remember their shape.

No, that can’t be.

“That’s crazy,” he says, thinking, maybe I’m crazy.

“Why don’t you come visit us for a while?” she says. “The kids would love to see you.”

“Yeah,” he says, shaky. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea. Tell them I love them. Love you too.” Then he hangs up.

*

That night, he lays on his back in bed and stares at the ceiling, afraid to look to his right. He used to sleep sprawled across the entire width of the bed, a true bachelor enjoying his bachelorhood. When did he start picking one side?

He turns over, facing away from the barren expanse of the rest of the mattress, but the bookshelf offers little comfort. Most of his books are about history, biographies on interesting characters from the past. There’s a couple of jetski magazines wedged in, too. But what catches his eye... He remembers buying it, knows he did, the morning after watching a documentary on the perception of time and space. The documentarian had written a book. The Mobius Strip.

Frowning, he doesn’t find any sleep that night, no matter how many long minutes he closes his eyes, or how many sheep he tries to count in his head.

Mobius.

It’s a mathematical theory. Not a name. But it wedges between his ribs and stays buried behind them.

He’s not even a maths guy! But he can’t shake it. It feels heavy, too important.

He tosses and turns. He reaches out to the other side of the bed, realizes its empty, and snaps upright, dread overtaking him for one sharp moment before he remembers that its supposed to be empty.

This is normal. This is his perfect little life.

He flops back into bed and runs a hand down his face. Maybe he should go visit his sister, before he fully loses his mind.

*

His hands shake the next morning when he walks out to get the newspaper at the end of the driveway. Half his coffee spills when he leans to pick it up, but its fine. Maybe he should give up coffee entirely. Maybe too much caffeine is his problem.

He doesn���t know what’s wrong with him.

Turning towards the house, he spots the jetski, there under the blue tarp. The mysterious jetski that he doesn’t remember buying. The one, when he’s out on it, he sits too far forward, like he’s making space for someone behind him. But there’s no one there. There’s never anyone there.

The jetski, he decides, was the start of his problems. Maybe if he... If he...

Storming back into the house, he leaves what’s left of his coffee in the sink and the newspaper forgotten on the counter, and hurries into the office. He rips off a long sheet of dot matrix printer paper. Biting off the cap of his pen, he scribbles on it in large block letters, all caps, FOR SALE.

Back in the driveway, he removes the chocks from behind the wheels of the trailer, and flips off the tarp. He wheels the trailer and the jetski to the end of the driveway, right up against the road.

He must look like a mad man, out there in his brown button-up pajamas and coffee-stained slippers. The neighbor’s mowing the lawn. The dog’s barking further away. Everything’s perfect in this perfect little neighborhood, this perfect little life. But he feels like he is going insane.

He slaps the for sale sign on the front of the jetski, and starts back for the house. The sooner that thing is out of his life... Maybe... Maybe things would go back to normal.

His heart pangs in a way he doesn’t understand. Heartache. So much heartache. Why?

Does he even want normal?

But if not that, then what? What is he missing?

He’s at his front door, hand on the doorknob, when someone politely coughs behind him. He pauses a moment, there’s no way someone is there... But when he glances over his shoulder - yeah. Someone’s behind him, only a few feet away.

Not just someone. The most gorgeous person he has ever seen, wearing a sleek black suit and a pair of sunglasses. Long dark hair is slicked back and pushed behind their ears.

He should probably feel self-conscious, standing there in his brown pajamas in front of this god of a person - probably a model - but he doesn’t. Strangely, he feels more at ease now than he has in weeks. His whole body relaxes like he finally exhaled a held breath.

But that doesn’t make sense. They’ve never met. He would remember.

He would never forget a face like that.

“Hello,” the person says, and the word tremors slightly.

“Hello.” It tremors when he says it too.

There’s no car on the road. No bicycle on the sidewalk. However this person got here, it’s like they dropped down from the sky.

The person clears their throat. “You’re selling the jetski?”

“You...” He blinks. He knew jetskis were popular - hell, they are the best - but he hadn’t expected an offer before he even got his pants on. “Yeah. You interested?”

“Yes, I...” They drop their head a moment, taking their time to think. When they lift their head again, their shoulders lift too, like they are preparing for a battle.

He supposes negotiations can be seen as a battle, but he can’t bring himself to match the person’s pose. He’s ready to give up the jetski for free at this point. Whatever gets it gone.

The person asks, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it. It runs like a dream.”

“Then why get rid of it?”

His heart hurts, so he laughs through the pain. It’s silly, but he can’t help feel his sister was right. This person wouldn’t know either way, so he finds himself telling them, “I’m heartbroken.”

The person goes very still. Their mouth opens and they take in a shaky, noisy breath. When they say, “What?” the word is bone dry and crumbling.

“It’s something we did together... I think.” He’s making it up, but it feels right. So he keeps talking. “And now. Well. It kinda reminds me of... I’m pretty sure I forgot a lot of things, but I can’t forget that. There’s supposed to be someone else. And I can’t... I can’t...”

He’s not making any sense, but the person is hanging on every single word.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’ll let it go cheap. Too many memories... or... I don’t know, feelings?” He sighs. “Just make me an offer, okay? I have to get ready for work.”

He wants nothing more than to keep this beautiful person on his doorstep, but... well, life isn’t always about getting what you want. This person wants a jetski, he has one. A transaction will occur, and this person will move forward like he never existed.

He’ll be left behind again.

Again?

Now, he’s the one to stand a little straighter. “Do you ever get deja vu?”

“Deja vu?”

“You know, where you feel like you’ve lived an exact moment already, once before. I’ve been reading this book about mobius strips and...” There’s that pang again, in his chest. A subtle ache that is swelling. He wants to ignore it, like he always has, but he’s finding he can’t really anymore. “Don’t you think that’d be a cool name? Mobius. Mobius M. Mobius.” He laughs, and it hurts. It hurts.

The person doesn’t laugh. Instead, they take a small step back. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

His laughter dies quickly. It wasn’t real anyway. “You don’t want the jetski?”

“I do,” the person says with naked longing. “More than anything.”

“Then its yours.” He shrugs. “You know, it kinda feels like it was already yours? Like, maybe its just been waiting around for you to show up and claim it.”

The person shakes their head. “It’s better off without me. It finally has a chance to... to... live the way you - it deserves...”

“I mean, that’s a nice thought. But in practice... wouldn’t it be better for jetskis to decide for themselves the kind of lives they want? Whose to say that their life before was all that great? Because let me tell you, this perfect little normal life I’m living? Kinda sucks.” He doesn’t really understand what he’s saying, but the words still fall out of him, like ripping a scab off an old wound and all the blood starts running again.

The person takes another step back, but this time, he follows, taking a step forward. Somehow, it feels crucial that he not let this person leave him behind again.

There, another again. What is he not remembering?

“There’s something terribly wrong with all this,” he says. “I’m forgetting something important, but whatever it is - whoever - I don’t think I can be happy without them. Not really. Not in any way that matters.”

“Mobius...” the person says, soft, under their breath. Stronger, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

And the dam breaks.

“I know exactly what I’m saying, Loki.” The name, that name. How could he forget that name?

The person - Loki - exhales again, watery this time.

“Maybe if we never met, this would be enough. Maybe it was once. But not anymore. Never again. Not since you. And not even your little mind hocus pocus could change that.”

Mobius takes another step forward. This time, Loki does not move back. They stay just as they are and let Mobius close the distance. Mobius lifts his hands to Loki’s face and slowly removes those sunglasses. Loki’s eyes have always been the most expressive - the easiest to read. No wonder they would try to hide them. Because now they shine with sorrow and regret and... love. So much love.

And that, Mobius knows, is exactly what he’s been looking for when he reaches out to the empty space beside him on the bed. When he sits in his kitchen and stares at the pulled-out chair across the table. When he rides his jetski and turns, ready to laugh with the missing person behind him.

“I’m not angry,” Mobius says, tossing the sunglasses aside. He takes one of Loki’s hands in his. Loki grips hard onto his fingers. “I understand why you did it. It’s kind of flattering really, to know you’d give up your own happiness to try to give me mine. But there was a very big problem with this latest Loki scheme.”

“What’s that?” Loki asks in a whisper.

Mobius gives them a smile. The first real one since they parted. “You’re unforgettable.”

Loki laughs once, a burst, like they’ve been holding something in and now its escaping. The hard lines of their face smooth out. And they look less like a frightened, broken shadow and more like themselves, god of mischief, with a small but growing smirk. “Of course. I suppose I should have considered that.”

“Big flaw. Ruined the whole thing, to be honest.”

Loki leans closer. “I hate to admit to fault, but I fear there was a second issue that I had not considered.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Your absolute stubbornness.”

“Stubborn? Me? You should look in the mirror, pal.”

Loki closes their eyes a moment. Mobius studies the planes of their perfect face, and wonders how, in all the infinite timelines, he ever forgot it. 

“Loki,” Mobius says. “Do me a favor, though, huh? Don’t do this again. I... uh, well. It wasn’t the most fun for me.”

“Me, either.” Loki presses their forehead to Mobius’s. “I regretted every moment, but I... The TVA stole you from your life. I wanted to -”

“I know, I get it. I’m not mad. But communication is key to a relationship, yeah? So maybe next time you want to do a grand gesture of love for me, we should talk about it first?”

Loki leans back. They blink. But it’s not the love that trips them up, it’s, “Relationship?”

Mobius runs his hands along Loki’s arms, up to the shoulders and back down to the elbows. “Yeah. I mean, we’re partners, right?”

“Partners.” Loki doesn’t say the word with disgust, more... intrigue.

“Boyfriends?” Mobius tries.

“Boyfriends.” Loki frowns at that one.

“Lovers?”

Loki’s eyes are bright and full of wonder. How they could look at Mobius, someone so normal, like that... well. Loki makes Mobius feel like a god himself, no wonder he couldn’t go back to his old life.

“Lovers,” Loki says and kisses Mobius. Mobius smiles against their lips. Lovers, it is, then.

Kiss turns to kisses, and they linger. It’s right, so right that it further amplifies how wrong everything else was before. Mobius belongs here. Right here. With Loki. Forever, if possible.

When they break, they both laugh, and it’s light and true this time, for both of them.

“Hey, Loki,” Mobius says. “Want to buy a jetski?”

Loki pulls an annoyed face, but its all an act - Mobius sees right through it, and Loki’s not trying that hard to hide it. “I believe I’m the one who acquired that jetski for you. You have no right to sell it.”

“It was a gift,” Mobius says.

“It remains a gift. One I insist you keep.”

“Alright, alright,” Mobius laughs and Loki kisses him at the corner of his smile. “But only if you promise to keep me.”

“Oh, dear Mobius.” Loki brings their mouth to Mobius’s ear. “I hope you appreciated this display of selflessness, because I will not be repeating it.”

“Good.”

“I am a selfish god.”

“Uh, huh.”

Loki’s arms grip tightly around Mobius’s waist. “And from here to eternity, I will be keeping what’s mine.”

The last remaining knots in Mobius’s chest untangle. “And the jetski.”

“And the jetski,” Loki says and kisses him again.

#lokius #loki x mobius #post-canon #established relationship........ >.> #mobius pov //// #hey its another one of those loki enchants mobius to forget him and sends him back to his old life fics #angst with a happy ending #mcu ts /////////// #i wrote something else

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

December 7 2020.

note: hah ya thought I wouldn't write a birthday fic for this man guess again! I have been brainstorming for ideas and I hope it came out well. Once again happy birthday to the man we all love and simp for 💙

warning: slight manga spoilers just a little

p.s: he's born in 1989 so he's actually 31 this year but shhh let's not talk about that

official art from Mappa studios 🙂

December 7 2020 22:34

That's the date displayed on his phone as he checks the current time. "Oh, it's my birthday today" he recalls, it's been years since he stopped caring. To him, today was just like any other day- no different. He had more missions than he usually did, if that was any different and the fact that he's riding a taxi home instead of Ijichi who usually drives him home. The man said he had important matters to tend to and Gojou just wanted to go home already. Feeling the exhaustion in every part of his body. Behind his blind fold he watches the scenery passes by as the lights of Tokyo illuminate the city. When did his birthday become just like any other day?

February 25 1997

"Satoru sama!"

A seven year old Gojou Satoru turns his head towards the direction of the voice. A young girl waves her arms wildly, mentioning the boy to come towards her. Gojou simply stares at her, choosing to ignore her- as he walks through his family's garden. He chose to ignore the girl as he was told not to directly interact with any of the servants of the estate. The girl was the daughter of one of the servants of the Gojou estate.

The girl frowns as she stares at his disappearing figure but still did not to give up. She was going to get his attention of way or another. Whenever Gojou was on break from studying or from training, the servant girl would always come to bother him. She talked an awful a lot while Satoru remains silent ignoring her. No matter how many times she was ignored she would still go to him adamant on getting his attention.

Until one day Satoru, had enough of her persistence. "What do you want?" He spoke coldly to her as he stopped in his steps, the girl behind him stopped in surprise too at his sudden voice. Not thinking she would ever get his attention, she struggles to answer. " I-I umm.." the girl stammers looking down towards the ground of the garden. "I want to be friends with you!" She shouts before covering her mouth with her hand afraid that someone else might have heard her. Satoru stares at the girl dumbfounded by her words. "Friends" was something he never had having forbidden to go to public schools instead to home study. His life was mostly indoors within the Gojou estate. He remains silent contemplating his response but before he could answer, an older servant appears. " There you are! You know you're not supposed to bother Satoru sama. Please forgive me my lord." As the older servant pulls the younger girl by the arm going towards the other direction. "Bye Satoru!" She laughs and waves towards him. Gojou feels a slight smile "what a dumb girl."

In the following months, the young servant girl appears before Satoru whenever he was free. The girl would talk for countless hours while Satoru silently listened to her before leaving when Satoru had to go back to his training.

December 7 1997

Today was the day of Satoru's birth. His family and the elders of the Gojou clan would gather to celebrate his birthday but each year it was always the same. He recieved ravish gifts he did not care for and was praised for his ability. It felt like they were celebrating the birth of a user of the Limited Cursed Technique and the beholder of the Six Eyes but not Satoru himself. He felt empty inside while his family rejoiced. He pulled away from the festivities and went towards the garden, silently hoping to meet a certain servant girl. As if she had heard his thoughts she comes running towards his direction. "Satoru, Satoru!" Panting as she reaches him holding something in her hand. "Happy birthday Satoru!" She shoves a beautiful red rose into his hands. He remained stunned but felt the warmth from her genuine words, he smiled towards her "thank you.."

"How dare you servant girl!" As an older lady of the Gojou clan emerges interrupting their moment. The older lady calls for the other servants to take the girl away, the yound girl shouts "Happy birthday!" while being pulled away. Satoru could only gaze at her holding his present while she disappears. He realized he never actually knew her name.

That was the last time he ever saw that girl.

December 7 2005

"Happy birthday Satoru." Geto says to him with a smile while Shoko stands behind him repeating the exact same words "Happy birthday." Gojou looks at them bewildered, "how did you know it was my birthday?" "Well that's a secret" Geto replies as he shares a knowing smile with Shoko. "What tell me!" Gojou pouts begging his friend where he found about such crucial information about him.

"Anyways, let's go eat! Oh and Satoru you're paying."

"It's my birthday why do I have to pay?!" He exclaims as he trails behind a smiling Geto and a giggling Shoko. He felt the warmth, he never thought he'd never feel again until that too came to an end.

"Sir, you've arrived at your destination."

Gojou snaps out of his trance as he realizes the taxi has stopped in front of his apartment. He quickly pays the taxi driver, thanking him before getting off. He rides the elevator in silence as he reaches the door to his home. He grasps the handle and opens the door.

"Surprise!"

As party poppers and streamers go off as he opens his front door. There you were holding a giant cake with candles while the first years surround him. Standing behind you, was the second years, Shoko, Ijichi, Principal Yaga and even Nanami all crowed in his living room.

"Happy birthday Gojou sensei!" Itadori shouts almost tackling his teacher. He could hear a chorus of "happy birthdays" from all around the room. Gojou stands in shock at the sight he's seeing before Nobara practically shoves a bouquet of flowers into his hands. "These are for you!"

"Hurry up and blow the candles sensei, oh and make a wish too!" Itadori exclaims, breaking him from his daze-unable to comprehend the sight before him.

"Happy birthday Satoru" You smile at him while holding a cake out to him. Oh, he feels the warmth he thought he had lost forever. Seeing the people surrounding him. His body feels warm and complete, as a wide smile graces his face. Maybe this time?

"Thank you.."

He lowers his head and takes a moment before blowing away the flames in a single huff. He hears cheers from the students, while the adults stand around him with varying expressions.

"Finally, let's eat!" Panda exclaims while everyone gathers into the living room. The coffee table and dining table filled with an abundance of various food. Gojou hears chatter and laughter all around him.

"Hey sensei, what did you wish for?"

"That's a secret, Yuji kun!"

He wished for this warmth to never disappear.

Bonus

"You know, you guys technically broke into my home."

"It was (L/N) sensei's idea!"

"Hey!"

#jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jjk imagines #skipps writes #happy birthday gojo satoru 2020

[taliaquinn]

Hamilton AU Part 2

lthI’m really glad to see that you guys loved the Hamilton AU. I really enjoyed seeing all the comments. Sorry for the inactivity I was super busy with getting readjusted and getting the proper amount of sleep. I hope I tagged Everyone if I didn't please feel free to comment here or direct message me. Here is the part two with a bigger presence of the Batfam. :)

“ItwasanecessarysacrificeitwasnecessaryItwasneededtosavemyreputationitwas-” repeating that mantra, Adrien slowly lifted his head from his hands to look over the newspapers, splattered all around his desk. All the headlines glaring at him in bold black print.

SHOCKING: Details Of Adrien Agreste’s Affair Revealed

FASHION INDUSTRY IN CHAOS FOLLOWING ADRIEN AGRESTE ADMITTING AN AFFAIR WITH BRULER INDUSTRIES SECRETARY LILA ROSSI 

‘OH YES HE WOULD STAY WHENEVER HE COULD ESCAPE HIS WIFE” ALLEGED MISTRESS LILA ROSSI STATES

MARINETTE AGRESTE IN TATTERS FOLLOWING BOMBSHELL AFFAIR ALLEGATIONS

Adrien couldn’t help but flinch at that specific headline. 

Marinette would forgive him. She was head-over-heels in love with him plus she had to forgive him for the sake of Emma, Louis, and Hugo.

 He quickly turned and focused on the only headline that mattered.

ADRIEN AGRESTE CLEARED OF ANY FINANCIAL WRONGDOING BY FRENCH INVESTIGATORS

Oh god, he couldn't believe he had let it get that far. He should’ve released the video much��earlier before any charges were made public.

How dare they try to frame him. Everyone knew he always did everything in his life perfectly, efficiently, and legally. 

That lowly Bruler Board Member trying to extort him of all people. Then have the nerve to accuse him of embezzlement just so they could avoid jail time.

 Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the big framed picture of his and Marinette's wedding. Marinette beaming with joy, her arm wrapped around Adrien's. 

She looked beautiful that day. No matter what, seeing that picture of her in her wedding dress always managed to take his breath away.

She’ll forgive him. Especially once she knows why Adrien had to take extreme measures. 

He threw most of the Newspapers away keeping only that one that cleared him on any legal wrongdoing. 

He sat down actively trying to ignore the pings from his cellphone. Before finally reaching over and shutting it off. 

He leaned back and thought back to that fateful day that changed everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adrien was just walking out of a meeting with the CEO of Bruler Industries when he felt hands wrap around his arm. He shifted to politely ask them to let him go before he was staring at familiar green eyes.

”Oh!?” Adrien is that you?” Lila squealed. Grasping his arm even tighter.

“Lila? It's been so long since I last saw you” he exclaimed awkwardly trying to get his arm released from the Italian grip.

“Far too Long” Lila cried wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He quickly returned the hug. finally breaking it off, after an oddly long time, before walking towards the elevator together

” What are you doing here? Are you working on a Charity collaboration with Bruler Industries?” He asked, he couldn't help but notice Lilas employee id.

“Huh- OH UHM no actually I work here now” She let out quickly taking off her ID and stashing it into her pocket “I got offered a job here once they saw the way I ran one of my charities, They practically begged me to come work for them as a secretary and help them with Organizing” 

“Wow, that's amazing” He breathed out stepping onto the elevator with her following closely behind “What a coincidence that we managed to run into each other”

“Sure is” Ha. As if.

Lila had been seeing the Articles written about the “power couple”. Adrien and Marinette. She seethed with jealousy every time an article would appear, praising her work, her charity, and her kindness. 

That should’ve been Lila, she should've been the other half of the power couple. She should’ve been the “beloved beautiful Mrs.Agreste.”

This is why she was ecstatic and thrilled when she saw Adrien scheduled for a Meeting with Bruler Industries CEO on the schedule that Assistant Secretaries received each day.  She could barely manage to qualify for her job as an assistant secretary to a lower executive, she could only dream of being the CEO’s secretary.

Reading articles and watching videos  Lila realized that she wasn’t the only one Jealous of Marinette. Adrien was too. Through the quick glances thrown in his wife's direction or the flickers of annoyance on his face every time Marinette's fans approached her on the streets, who would practically ignore Adrien. 

Lila knew it was jealousy. She after all felt it too.

The baker girl surpassed Lila. That enraged her to no end. She was determined to change all of that.

This is why she had to sneak her way onto the top floor barely in time so she could  “run” into Adrien. Which was successful.

Shaking back to reality Lila couldn't help but give a quick glance at Adrien next to her in the Elevator, she realized that she had stumbled upon a crucial piece of knowledge that would give her everything she wanted.

 There was no way she could let Adrien leave….at least without her.

Lila practically dragged Adrien towards a “close” cafe that just so happened to have an intimate theme. Lila ordered coffee for them both and quickly delved into all her “adventures” she “had” since leaving lycee. Totally false but attention-grabbing as apparent by Adrien's intense concentration on Lila and her adventures. 

Lila knew that she didn’t have to worry about Marinette interrupting their little meet-up. She was away. Lila knew this. She saw the news report about Marinette and Her kids landing in Gotham in a private jet. 

Adrien was obviously unhappy at the fact that his family was in the States without him for all of the summer. They had to stay in the States for all of the summer because of Marinette. She was a Wayne so she was required to go to the annual Wayne Gala.

 Meanwhile, he stayed behind to take care of the Agreste company, fighting to make it even greater, Maintain the image of perfection. He even had the hope that someday it would be able to join Wayne corporations. Until then the Agreste Mansión was empty. 

For now.   

Lila wasn’t blind she could see the jealousy written on Adrien's face when the topic shifted to his wife. Marinette Wayne-Agreste. beautiful, talented, intelligent, business owner and mother of three. 

Plus her parents were Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Corporations, along with Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain who were world-renowned bakers.

 Marinette was the envy of all, including her husband. 

She reached out and took Adrien's hands into her own. “Oh Adrien just know that you are sooo kind,” putting on a mask of fake worry she continued “I could only wonder how much you worry about her cheating on you, I mean Marinette does go on abroad trips on a daily basis and men practically trip over themselves to talk to her, who knows what goes on when you're not around” 

She felt Adrien's hands tighten their grip around her. Lila flashed a triumphant smile before quickly placing a mask of concern over it. If everything went on according to plan soon she might find herself as the new Mrs.Agreste. Soon they both stood up and Adrien offered to walk her home and pay. “ Adrien you are too kind” Lila giggled out. 

Oh, Adrien was feeling pleased with being the center of attention, and Lila didn’t even have to milk it that much. After all, He offered to walk her home she didn't even need to ask.

“Oh Adrien it was so much fun talking and chatting again” Lila cooed, batting her eyelashes at him while clutching at his arm. Very reminiscent of their highschool days. Far too soon for Lilas liking they arrived at her hotel.

“Well I should head back home,” He said sheepishly standing inside the hotel lobby.

 Lila knew she had one shot. Quickly she flung at Adrien and clasped her hands around her upper arm. “Stay” She pleaded “We haven’t talked in so long, it's too soon for you to go”. 

Adrien let out a sigh and saw the hopeful and pleading look in her eyes. Marinette's smiling face flashed in front of him for a sec. But he quickly brushed it aside. Talking to Lila had been such an eye-opening, refreshing experience. Marinette's face flashed once again before Adrien angrily pushed away from the image.

 Like Lila said, who knew what Marinette was up to on her trips abroad in Gotham? She probably stayed in her friend's hotel room all the time to talk. Plus He was weak and tired from the long weekend; it surely wouldn’t hurt to stay and chat for a few hours with Lila. 

Making up his mind He allowed himself to be led up the hotel stairs. 

Lila Quickly led him to her hotel room and opened the door. Adrien without batting an eyelash stepped inside. The door shutting behind him

Unbeknownst to a happy Marinette in Gotham surrounded by her brothers, sister, father, and children the perfect storm has just been created and its name was Lila Rossi

Anyways that's a wrap. I used the tax Evasion accusation since thats similar to what Alexander Hamilton was accused of. Wonder what's coming next >:)

Don't forget to like, reblog and comment, I really look forward to reading your comments since they bring me so much joy. Also if I missed tagging you please just comment again. Apologies :)

Stay Safe and Healthy 

S/o to @mikantsume for noticing the Custody thing. Hope this answers your question.

Don’t forget to Like, Reblog and Comment <3

Taglist:

@purplesundaze @silvergold-swirl @k-poplunardreams @pepelachanel @laurcad123 @maribat-is-lifeblood @kass-is-weird @another-fan-of-anotherplan @damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @thezestywalru @dreamykitty25 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochinek0 @shamefullove @mochegato @souleateralicestein @thestressmademedoit @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @aestheticnpoetic @flufflepuffle296@mysupporthyperfixations @itsmeevie01 @jeminiikrystal @iglowinggemma28 @whydoexamsexist @kuroko26 @animalgirl05 @susiej1118 @damianthebratboy @ccwkm6967 @valyui901601  @wannajointhecrabcult @thornalchemist23 @tazanna-blythe @rebecarojas07 @moonlightstar64 @chylou34 @thecrazyfantrolls @iamablinkmarvelarmy  @boldlydecadentkitty @thornalchemist23 @tazanna-blythe @blackmagicforever @blueboobutterfly @sharingiscaringapparently @starlightshield @mikantsume 

#miraculous ladybug #hamilton #hamiltonau #BatFam #damian wayne #Jason Todd #dick grayson #Tim Drake #adrien salt #adrien agreste #lila salt

[coffeeandritalin]

Thoughts on The Song of Achilles

I just read The Song of Achilles, and while I have book club tomorrow to gush over this book, I think the level of deep I'm digging to will probably be too much for my club-mates. So I've decided to use Tumblr to offload instead.

This is the first book I actively annotated in since... probably high school (aka, it's been more than a hot second). This was probably the best and worst book to use to start annotations again. Best because it is so beautifully written. Worst because, of course, I no longer have a heart as it has been hollowed out to relieve me of the intense pain I suffered after reading it.

In the final chapter, Patroclus calls Thetis out, "You said that Chiron ruined him. You are a goddess, and cold, and know nothing. You are the one who ruined him." I definitely agree with Patroclus here. However, in today's TED talk, I will rant about how Patroclus' is also responsible for Achilles' ruin.

To start, I have to praise Miller for how masterfully she molds each character. In just four chapters, we have a complex understanding of who Patroclus is as a person and why he ticks the way he ticks. Patroclus' defining characteristic, confidence (or lack thereof), is first hinted at on the first page, "Quickly, I became a disappointment." This is the core trait Miller starts out with to flesh out the character. The low opinion Patroclus has of himself, heavily shaped by his father, becomes the source and shaper of all his other traits.

Patroclus' low self-opinion is his greatest gift and flaw. His entire life, he has been told he is worth nothing. He is emotionally abused, depressed, and hurting. Tragically, out of this comes his humility and humbleness. In a world that is hard and cruel, Patroclus chose to be soft and kind - the key to what makes the people around him love him so deeply. There is a whole separate soap box waiting to be stepped on for this topic alone. Today, we are focusing on how Patroclus' lack of confidence becomes his fatal flaw. Just as his gentleness is borne from his low confidence, so too is his self-contempt, and this is his ultimate undoing.

From the very first moment he lays eyes on him, Patroclus has always seen himself as second to Achilles. It originates from a place of envy but eventually comes from a place of love and admiration. Patroclus, believing himself only worthy of disdain, allows this to define him. Rather, he uses it to define himself - what value could he possibly have without Achilles at his side?

It is not just Thetis' misguided, motherly love and prideful scorn for mortals that fills Achilles' mind with the whispers of gods instead of the cries of his peers. It is not just the adulation of the masses and the glorification of war that lures Achilles into hubris and a madness that even Patroclus falls prey to. It is also Patroclus' self-contempt and core belief that he has no value beyond Achilles that fuels and enables Achilles' arrogance.

There was only one person Achilles was ever willing to put on a pedestal above himself. He believes Patroclus is worth extending the Trojan War and keeping thousands of families apart for ten years (a separate discourse on this). He holds Patroclus in the absolute highest regard. On multiple occasions, although Patroclus only consciously acknowledges two, Achilles defers to what Patroclus' wants. Despite his godliness, which he is fully aware of, Achilles is willing to submit himself to Patroclus.

Patroclus is always in awe of Achilles and in disbelief that he managed to land such a hot piece of a**. Through the first two thirds of the book, Achilles also repeatedly mentions how equally in awe he is of Patroclus and repeatedly tries to get Patroclus to stand by his side as an equal. However, Patroclus' self-contempt will not allow him to see himself as Achilles' equal. Achilles makes many attempts to put Patroclus' needs first, but Patroclus consistently rebuffs these efforts and insists his needs be second to Achilles'. Over time, Patroclus trains Achilles to see his (Achilles') needs above his own (Patroclus'). Due to a highly privileged upbringing, Achilles knows no better than to gradually accept this as fact and ends up taking it for granted.

The only person who could have taught Achilles to know better and to understand reason is Patroclus himself (and probably Chiron, but Chiron isn't the one who is constantly and seductively whispering in Achilles' ears for 20 odd years). Patroclus was everything that tethered Achilles to his gentleness and humanity. However, Patroclus dotes on and spoils Achilles far too much. He makes himself, and is grateful to be, the rug that Achilles wipes his shoes on (despite Achilles equal insistence to clean off Patroclus' shoes).

With all this pre-established cognitive wiring, can we blame Achilles for being the densest of all walnuts when it comes to Patroclus' feelings and needs? (The answer is yes, and I place equal blame on Achilles as I do Patroclus for all of this.) Until the last third of the book, Patroclus is the only person who could possibly force their will on Achilles. He loved and respected both his parents, but he was defiant even against them. Of course, Patroclus has neither parent's pride and does not ever seek to force his will on Achilles or anyone else (something which he is definitely loved for). He loves Achilles and genuinely wants everything that would make Achilles happy.

Most crucial to this whole rant thought, Patroclus also refuses to acknowledge (read: zero self-confidence) that he has the power to stay Achilles' hand. Patroclus forgets he has a voice. He forgets his opinions and feelings are worth of acknowledgement. He forgets to be selfish and fight for what he wants (outside of Achilles' survival).

In true Patroclus fashion (forever putting others before himself), he finally stands up against Achilles for Briseis' sake. Although he has secured Briseis' temporary safety, he is far too late and Achilles has already been swimming in the deep end for a good thirty minutes. Achilles is entrenched in the belief that he and Patroclus are of the same mind, that his wants must also be Patroclus' wants. While he is wounded by the betrayal, Achilles cannot and does not stay mad at Patroclus because he knows his immortal glory is also what Patroclus is trying to build and preserve.

This is as deep as Achilles' understanding goes though. Achilles' belief system has been shaped too perfectly. His cause is Patroclus' cause, any ancillary motivation is but an afterthought. The blinders are up and Achilles only has eyes for his immortal glory. He is blind to how much pain was necessary to provoke Patroclus into mutiny against him. He is unaware of the searing grief it caused Patroclus (in contrast, Briseis immediately understands how severely this betrayal affects Patroclus). Worse, Achilles is completely ignorant of Patroclus' true reasoning and displays blatant lack of concern to Patroclus' emotional wellbeing by immediately launching into how he and Thetis have concocted a plan to let thousands of more Greeks suffer for the sake of his honor. Patroclus is fighting (albeit too late) to bring Achilles back to his humanity and spare innocent people from needless brutality. He has literally and physically spilt blood to right the wrongs he finally opened his eyes to, and Achilles undoes it all in one, idle stroke.

Patroclus was the only person who could keep Achilles grounded, but his infinite love only made him wish to see Achilles fly free. Patroclus was the only person who could scold Achilles into seeing the wrong in his actions and beliefs, but his dotage stayed his tongue and he instead chose to maintain Achilles naivete. Patroclus was the only person who could raise Achilles to his best self and also utterly break him, but his self-contempt did not allow him to acknowledge that he had the power, and thus responsibility, to guide Achilles. Patroclus failed to take meaningful action earlier because he had little faith that his actions and words would matter (despite Achilles, Briseis, and Chiron repeatedly trying to convince him otherwise). He eventually builds up the confidence to believe he is at least worthy of dying for someone he loves, thus cursing grief upon those who love him.

#tsoa #tsoa spoilers #the song of achilles #in this essay i will #welcome to my ted talk

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Imagine being the reincarnation of Dracula's long lost love: part 10

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Dracula helped you out of the coffin and held you close in his arms, not wanting to ever let you go again.

"Vlad, I was so scared." You told him, pressing your face into his chest.

"Me too." He said, stroking your hair. So he was right after all. You were Maria. You had finally come back to him at last.

You still felt weak and held on to Dracula for support. Not only did you feel weak, but you felt... different. You didn't know what it was, but it was like all your senses were maxed out. It was so overwhelming. There was also this new scent that you discovered. It smelled delicious, but what was it? You wondered looking around trying to find the source.

"What did you mean that you remember everything?" Van Helsing asked, concerned for you.

You faced him, realizing just where that smell was coming from. Your eyes shined bright red, an intense hunger in them...hunger for blood. Normally you would have been repelled by such a thing, but right now you needed it more than ever. Van Helsing watched you nervously as you inched toward him.

"Y/N?" He said nervously backing away, but you did not answer. All you could think about was his blood, the taste of it on your lips. Dracula noticing your odd behavior, grabbed you by your shoulders and held you back. Why? He did not know. He had wanted to kill Van Helsing himself earlier. Perhaps he was trying to prevent you from doing something you would regret.

You squirmed, trying to wriggle free, but Dracula held you firmly in place. "Let me go!" You hissed at him, revealing for the first time your fresh new set of fangs. Van Helsing stared at you wide eyed. What had he done? You were no longer the sweet, brave, and kind Y/N, you were now a monster. He should never have let Dracula turn you. But then you would be dead...looking at you now, maybe it would have been better that way. He just lost it in a moment of grief.

"Calm down, darling." Dracula spoke in a soft voice, trying to soothe you. "You will feed soon, I promise."

Van Helsing glanced up at him. "What do you mean?" 

"She is in a very crucial time right now. She needs to feed." Dracula urgently explained to him.

"So what will you do, go kill another innocent person?" He asked, raising his voice.

"We have no choice."

Van Helsing sighed. "Then she can have some of mine."

"That is not necessary, Doctor Van Helsing." He refused.

"Yes it is. I won't have you or her killing anyone else. I'll run into town and get my supplies. I'll be back soon." He said, buttoning up his coat, turning to leave.

"Henry, take the coach if it's still there and take him home." Dracula ordered. Henry nodded and promptly followed Van Helsing out.

A few minutes later the tapping of horseshoes against the ground could be heard as they disappeared into the night leaving you and Dracula alone. You closed your eyes and let out a long sigh, then looked up at him.

"Is that what it's like for you all the time?" You asked, now realizing how difficult life was for him. How tempting it was to feed on human blood. Even now with no mortals around, you desired it. Dracula simply nodded. "It's horrible...I can't believe I wanted to...to..." You winced at the thought of hurting, maybe even killing Lawrence. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and held you close.

"Come, let's wait for them upstairs." Dracula said, guiding you from the dungeons and up the stairs. When you reached the entry hall your mouth fell open in shock. This was the first time you had seen the castle in ruins. You felt a very intense anger. How dare the townspeople do this to your home, to Dracula's home!

"What do we do Vlad?" You ask, looking around. He squeezed your shoulder and replied, "We'll find some place else. Anywhere is home as long as I have you."

As you waited for Van Helsing to return, your mind wandered. You thought about how strange fate was. In your previous life you were married to Dracula and Van Helsing was his power hungry step-brother who killed you. In this life you were Van Helsing's friend who ultimately reunited you with your lover.

"What's wrong?" Dracula asked, noticing how quiet you had become.

"I was just thinking. What happened after...after I died all those years ago?" You asked. Dracula knew this question was inevitable now.

"Well, Van Helsing fled and joined the Turks. Soon after, we went to war and I was killed during one of the battles. As I lay there dying from my wounds, the devil appeared to me. I sold my soul and in return I would have my revenge on the Van Helsings." He told you.

"That's when you became one of the living dead?" You asked. He nodded. "But Lawrence doesn't know about any of that. He told me he wanted to get rid of you because he thought you were a threat to humanity."

"He's right. I am." He admitted. "I didn't care how many lives I took. How much blood I spilled. None of them mattered as long as I didn't have you. I was just as ruthless in life as I am in death."

"And now?"

He paused for a moment, thinking. "I don't know..."

Suddenly, from out of the wreckage you heard some rustling followed by a series of painful moans. Dracula pushed you behind him ready to attack whatever it was. From beneath the debris, a man crawled out. He was covered in dirt and blood, the smell instantly flooded your nostrils. "H-help me..." The man pleaded as he slowly pulled himself across the floor. Dracula looked over at you and saw the hunger return in your eyes and how you licked your lips, desperate for just a little taste. He didn't want to admit how turned on he was by this. He smiled and stepped aside, letting you pass. He wasn't about to let you miss out on your first meal.

Your eyes were fixed on the man before you, like a predator staring down it's prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

"I'll help you." You lied, your voice sounding menacing.

"Oh, thank you I-" He peered up at you and saw what you had become and let out a blood curdling scream. "Nonnnoo! Please!" He cried, cowering away, but you didn't hear him. You were focused on one thing. You grabbed him by his collar and lifted him off the ground making him eye-level with you. You hesitated for a moment. You knew you shouldnt. That this was bad, but he did try to kill you and your love after all. He deserved it. Your mouth was practically watering as the sound of his pulse pounded against your eardrums. Dracula stood behind you and whispered in your ear, "Do it." Before the man could utter another plea for mercy, you sunk your fangs deep into his neck. His blood dripped down your lips and chin as you sucked every last drop from his body. Dracula wanted you now more than ever. You moaned and threw your head back enjoying the taste of blood as it ran down your throat. Once you were finished, you tossed the corpse back into the rubble he crawled out of.

"How do you feel now?" Dracula asked, eyeing you lustfully. You grinned at him. "Much better, darling." You answered in a husky voice, running your finger under his chin. Unable to resist you a moment longer, he twirled you around and pressed you flush against him. Leaning down he licked some of the blood from your lips, then he roughly pressed his mouth on yours. He could still taste the blood as he slipped his tongue inside. It drove him mad. You couldn't help but let out a moan when he suddenly nipped your bottom lip as he pulled away. You both stared longingly into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity.

You went to kiss him again, but were interupted when Henry and Van Helsing returned.

"Y/N! What have you done?!" He exclaimed noticing the fresh blood around your lips, running towards you. He looked down at the man's lifeless body, a horrified expression on his face. "You killed him..."

"What of it?" Dracula sneered.

"Don't you understand? She killed an innocent man!" He yelled.

"He wasn't so innocent when he tried to kill us." You quickly pointed out.

"Y/N, why? I thought you were better than this." 

"I guess I'm not who you thought I was." You said coldly. Van Helsing felt his heart break again at how much you changed. He wanted to take you far away from here, far away from Dracula. To try to find a way to get his Y/N back. He'd rather you be dead than live out eternity like this...Van Helsing sighed. He had no other choice. He had to kill you and Dracula before it was too late.

"I guess not." He agreed. "There's nothing more I can do if this is the life you've chosen. I'm leaving for London tomorrow." Dracula eyed him suspiciously. Was he really willing to just leave you alone? To just ignore the fact that you might kill again. Did he really care for you that much?

"Will I ever see you again?" You asked, still wishing to remain friends. Even though his ancestor had murdered you in your past life you didn't hold it against Lawrence. He was different.

"No, I don't think so." He replied, looking away.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said sadly, but you understood.

"I am as well." Van Helsing said. You pulled away from Dracula and went over to your friend, pulling him into a hug. Why did you have to do that? He thought. It only made things more difficult for him. He knew the real you was still in there somewhere, but the vampire took her place leaving a shell of what you once were. You placed a quick peck on his cheek and backed away.

"Goodbye, Y/N." He said, knowing that this was the last time he was going to see you alive, knowing that when the sun came up it was up to him to end your damned existence. He turned and left without another word.

Dracula felt your distress and wrapped you in his arms in a comforting embrace. It was getting close to dawn now. He needed to find you a coffin before daylight broke. So, after he knew you were alright he left with Henry to the local cemetery to find you a coffin.

You wandered the castle ruins thinking about Lawrence. He had been your only friend in the world till now. No one else had stopped to give you a second thought, but he did. He was there for you when no one else was. At one point before you came to Transylvania, you thought you loved him, but he was too involved in his work. His work was his ultimate passion, and you knew you couldn't compete, so you never did. You sometimes wondered what it would be like if you had chosen a life with Van Helsing. Would you be a silly little domestic couple with a house and kids? It was an amusing thought, but neither of you were the type.

Finally, Dracula and Henry returned a little while later carrying a coffin. It wasnt anything fancy, but it would do. Perhaps later, you could get a better one. Sunlight started peeking in through the windows as they hurriedly carried it into the dungeons, placing your coffin beside Dracula's.

"Too bad they don't make couple's coffins." You joked.

"Maybe we could have one made." He teased, kissing your neck where he had bitten you, making you shudder. "I love you." You said softly running your fingers through his hair.

"I love you too." It was so pleasant to hear him utter those words. You wanted to hear him say it again and again.

"Sleep well, darling." You said with a yawn, as you lay down suddenly feeling tired. You took one last look at him before shutting the lid. This wasn't an ideal lifestyle, but you loved him and that's all that mattered.

The sun rose into the sky and the birds began to sing their morning song. It would have been a beautiful day if it not had been for the task that Van Helsing had set out to do. He crept back inside the castle, bag in hand, being careful not wanting to draw attention to himself. He stood in the doorway to the dungeons, contemplating his next move. His chest was heavy as the thought about driving a stake into your heart. But he had to do it. He slowly opened the door and walked inside, and down the flight of stairs to the room where Dracula's coffin had been earlier. Now he noticed, that there were two coffins lying side by side, one belonging to you.

He reached inside his bag and pulled out a hammer and a couple of stakes. Van Helsing strode over to your coffin and pulled open the lid. Inside, you lay looking peaceful and content, a small smile on your face. If only it didn't have to be this way...

He pressed the stake between your breasts and raised the hammer high into the air, ready to strike. But he couldn't. The longer he stared down into your beautiful face, the harder it became to do it. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he didn't look at you...But he just couldnt. Why was this so difficult?

Suddenly, a voice shouted out behind him startling him. "Hey! What are you doing?!" Henry shouted, running at him, tackling him to the ground.

"Stop!" Lawrence yelled, shoving Henry off of him. Not listening, Henry raised his fist and slammed it into the side of Van Helsing's face, quickly tearing the stake and hammer out of his grasp.

He shook his head, feeling dazed for a moment.

"How could you do that?! I thought you wanted her alive?!" Henry asked throwing away his weapons across the room.

"I did, but after seeing what she has become I couldnt let her live like that...but I can't do it. I can't release her from this curse....It's all my fault." Van Helsing sobbed, his head throbbing. This is why he never let anyone get close to him in the first place. He had only himself to blame for this. There had to be another way and he was going to find it by any means necessary.

#not my best work #pretty satisfied with it tho #i think this might have more parts than i planned #hope you guys like it! #dracula x reader #van helsing x reader #hammer dracula #x reader #reader inserts #christopher lee

[ckneal]

A story occurred to me awhile ago, while listening to the song "According to You" by Orianthi. I don't think I'll ever write it, because I currently have nine other story ideas that I enjoy a lot more, but it keeps persistently coming back, drawing out new details. About a post-canon world, in which Adam keeps breaking out of the human section of Heaven to try and save Michael, only no one will tell Adam where Michael is, or what happened after the rapture. During one attempt, Adam somehow makes his way to Hell, thinking his holier-than-thou brothers might have shoved Michael back into the cage. 

Naturally, he finds the cage empty. As Adam's standing there, trying to think of what to do next--who knows how long he has before Sam and Dean figure out where he is this time--he's picked up by a band of demons who take him to see Rowena. 

At first, Adam's intimidated by the idea of a private audience with the queen of Hell, but then it comes out that she's a friend of his brothers'. Because of course she is. Because EVERYONE who has any scrap of power anymore seems to be in with his brothers. 

He stands there, half listening while Rowena starts to give her own rendition of a speech he's already heard several times from Sam and Dean--covering the bases of why are you out here, it's dangerous for a stray human to be wandering around out here, you're lucky we found you--as if Adam were a child, and not easily a dozen times older than them and then some. However, much like Crowley before her, Rowena has become a very busy woman, especially with--as implied in season 15--large factions of the demon population unhappy with the way that she's decided to run Hell. Rowena doesn't have the same finesse that Sam and Dean do when talking about Michael, and unknowingly reveals a crucial piece of information that TFW had been careful to avoid outright stating: that Michael is dead. Adam's lucky that Rowena doesn't happen to be looking at him when she says it. Instead, she's looking at some scroll that a minor demon brought to her, and right afterward Rowena announces that she needs to step away for a minute. She leaves Adam alone in her private foyer, promising to be right back. 

And while she's gone, Adam walks right out into the hallway and down a corridor. He's still reeling from the revelation, but already gears are starting to turn. He's looking for a library of some kind--knowing already that he'll never be able to find anything useful in any book available to humans in Heaven. 

And while Adam's wandering the palace, he comes upon a dungeon--sort of. It was clearly meant to look inconspicuous. Adam thought it was just another room, and he had been opening every door. Inside, he unknowingly finds AU Michael.

AU Michael is chained up like Gabriel in season 13, grace depleted to nearly nothing, because Rowena has been syphoning it to boost her own powers and secure her place on the throne of Hell. But she hasn't been as brutal with AU Michael as Asmodeus was with Gabriel however, and AU Michael is still coherent enough to talk. And to notice that, just like Gadreel had left traces of his grace in Sam's soul after possessing him in season 9, Adam's soul is glowing with traces of the OG Michael's. 

Adam and AU Michal go back and forth for a bit, AU Michael trying to lure Adam closer, thinking that if he can drain the grace from Adam's soul, he could restore himself enough to break the chains and escape. Before coming within grabbing distance though, Adam finally links him to the memories that Casriel pushed into the original Michael's head--and thus Adam's--in 15x08. Gears start turning, because Adam knows that that other Michael died. If it's possible to bring this Michael back though, it should also be possible to bring the original back as well. 

When Adam's demeanor suddenly changes, AU Michael shifts tactics, demanding to know who Adam is and what the queen of Hell's offering him to get him to work with her. Because to him, the most likely conclusion is that Rowena must have injected Adam with AU Michael's own grace as part of some ploy.

"You know that you can't trust her? I've been inside her head, the people she's loyal to are a very exclusive few, and I guarantee you are not one of them."

Uncomfortable, Adam leaves. 

As he's making his way back down the corridor however, he happens to overhear Sam and Dean talking with Rowena, who had gotten in touch to let them know about Adam's presence. Sam and Dean are exasperated. They're worried that Adam is going to get himself hurt on one of these outings, or worse. Rowena tells them that they should be worried, the grace in Adam's soul can be used in some very powerful magic. He's lucky that one of the rebel factions of Hell didn't find him first. Dean asks if Rowena can extract it, and she points out that Michael and Adam were joined for a very long time, it's probably worked its way very deep into the fabric of his soul. Removing it all at once could be very dangerous. Then Rowena suggests that an easier solution might be to erase Adam's memories. She assures Sam and Dean that she could wipe the slate clean right back to his first death, and the silence that follows lasts way too long for Adam's comfort. 

Turning, Adam runs straight down the way he came, back to the other Michael's chamber, demanding, "How do you bring angels back to life?"

AU Michael looks surprised, but he doesn't flinch. "First you need to wake them in the Empty."

"Where's that?"

"Nowhere that a human can reach alone."

"Try me."

"Free me, and I'll help you."

Adam hesitates. 

"Come on, kid. I'm your only friend down here and you know it."

Adam's not convinced, but he thinks he hears footsteps down the hall, and gives into the rush of "fuck it," walking forward and offering AU Michael his hand. The two of them smash their ways out of the palace with the sheer force of AU Michael's wings.

What follows is a story of these two breaking into the Empty, AU Michael finding out who Adam is and the nature of his relationship with the OG, and wondering what his other self could have ever seen in this mouthy little human--then shifts to wondering what Adam, who'd walk to the end of existence and tell the Entity there to go fuck itself all for the chance of finding him again could have seen in a version of him. 

Meanwhile, Michael and Castiel are having their own bonding experience in the super mega awful section of the Empty--where Cas still is, because I'm ignoring huge sections of 15x20, but that's a whole different song. 

#midam #au michael #my thoughts

[slasherbastard]

“When they died, I feel as if I died with them.” with og micheal :D

Warnings: just angsty Word count: 1213 Notes: I know these prompts are getting shorter and shorter rip, also there’s one more left before they’re closed!

Michael sat alone in the living room in the dark, he’d been like that for the past few hours as soon as he came home from his killing spree, not even bothering to get out of his dirty coveralls or clean himself up. The light from the sun slowly rising outside and the sound of the birds cawing like roosters didn’t bother him but it did give him something to think about other than those images of you burnt into his mind eating him alive. It was an accident, it wasn’t his fault that you were ill, it wasn’t his fault that the doctors gave up so soon, it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t afford the medicine or the surgery that could’ve saved your life, it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t there for your last breathing moments. Michael sighed and took his mask off and chucked it to the side of him, that side of the couch that was no longer dented because nobody had touched that side of the couch for the past - how long has it been again? - days, maybe weeks.

Michael got up and began walking into the kitchen when he heard a noise behind him.

“Michael?” He quickly turned around with his knife raised only to see nothing. He took a few quick glances around before turning back and opening the fridge and pulling out a can of coca cola then walking back into the living room and turning the tv on to the news channel to see that his work from just a few hours ago was already being reported. He cracked open the can and took a long sip from it.

“Michael?” Michael jumped up from the couch, choking on his drink and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process. He set the can down and grabbed his knife and began stalking through the house, trying to find whoever was calling out to him. He swore he circled the house 50 times before slamming his knife down into the coffee table and falling back onto the couch.

“- This is the most violent spree Mr. Myers has committed, it is also the anniversary of Y/N Y/L/N’s untimely death. Tomorrow there will a-” He nearly broke the remote trying to turn the tv off. He threw the remote down and downed a long sip of coca cola and threw the almost empty can at the wall, surprisingly not leaving a mark.

Michael was in so much pain. He he wasn't able to visit you when the two of you were dating at first. Of course he did break into your home and stand outside your window during the late hours of the night when he was truly alive, he wondered how many victims he could've killed in the time he spent watching you - he couldn't help it, you truly did something to him. He couldn't visit you in the hospital because the doctors and nurses made their rounds on time and someone was also in your room, visiting during the day was a bold and risky move for him even if he didn't wear the mask which was crucial since any doctor would be able to recognise the face of the infamous Michael Myers, the monster, the shape, the freak. He couldn't even visit your grave because there was no grave, your parents wanted your body cremated. He had no photos of you because you hated taking them especially when your condition was worsening. He didn't think to see you that one day, he couldn't see you but he wanted to. He swore he wanted to see you but he couldn't.

Was it really my fault?

There was no escape from you, there really wasn't. Everywhere he went he saw your face or heard your voice and every little thing reminded you of him. He tried to ignore your voice but it only got louder, you'd scream and he'd think he'd some done something wrong. He felt so fucking guilty about not being there for you and not helping you, he wished you two could've lived almost mundane lives. Meet your parents over dinner, have your father tell Michael that if he ever broke your heart then he'd die, start a family in this house and die together - all while Michael continued his nightly sprees at least.

"Michael? Please-" He wanted to scream but he couldn't find the words so instead he turned and stared at you, you looked as young and as healthy as ever. "It wasn't your fault. I'm the one who died, right?" Your laugh. You laughed but the house still felt dull, Michael thought he was going to fall apart just by seeing you. He opened his mouth to try and say something but he just couldn't. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his vocal chords, the way you'd taught him, starting with hums before trying to speak full one syllable words, but he couldn't. Michael opened his eyes only to see you were no longer with him.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room, he felt like he was going crazy. He was missing a part of himself and that part was you.

Michael walked up the stairs and began walking down the hall to the bedroom you two shared, tally marks littered the walls where family photos usually hung up and those tally marks followed Michael into that bedroom. He searched the walls and tried to find that final little group of scratch marks and he did, right above the bed. He brought out his knife and drew the line between those four lines to tie them up. It has been 730 days since you passed. Michael admired the marks, they were bound to take over and fill his whole house soon, he took a step out the bedroom and walked down the rest of the hall with his fingers gently pressed to the wall running over those lines. Michael found himself in sister Judith's old bedroom. It was clean as ever except for the light layer dust that was piling up.

He stepped inside for the first time in years - he didn't even let you inside this room - and walked over to one of the clean walls, a single framed photo hanging by a nail. He whacked it off the wall and let the glass shatter, Michael ran his free hand over the area of the wall and without hesitation began carving into it. He gritted his teeth as your voice returned, he could feel your hands on him and your scent filled the room. You screamed and begged trying to reassure him that it was never his fault. Michael wished things could've gone differently but he feels like a completely different person. Why didn't he show up? He had the chance but didn't and why was that? How could he be so stupid? Maybe if you came back you'd be able to understand how he felt.

Michael let out a grunt and the knife fell to the floor. Looking up at the words carved into the wall, he didn't know whether to smile or cry.

WHEN THEY DIED, I FEEL AS IF I DIED WITH THEM

#halloween #michael myers #og michael myers #angst #slasher #writing #horror

[vinylhazza]

A Lesson Learned (E.D) Part 1.

Summary: Ethan’s job as a teacher is to give his students the best education that he can. But when Y/n, a student that has caught his eye a time or two, catches him by surprise in his classroom during lunch, he’s unable to hold back the fire that was sure to break free at some point. 

Word Count: 8.1k

Warning: Rough sex between student and teacher. You're welcome. 

Ethan wasn't stupid. He knew that the girls in his class snickered and swooned over him from the minute they walk through that classroom door, to the very moment they left. That’s why he had a set of rules. They were simple, but very clear and strongly advised. 1. No consults or help during lunch 2. No help after school, under any circumstances. It was just too risky. It wasn't that he was worried he would slip up, it was just that the girls in his class were very bold with their advancements towards him and he was concerned it would get too out of hand if he allowed them to come in whenever they wanted for “help.” Because help was never really help with them. However; he did give the students an option to come in during a free period, where teachers flittered through the halls and his door was always open. He has yet to see any of the girls take him up on that offer, except maybe one of two that don’t really need the help. 

He had three classes, Seniors, Juniors, and Freshmen. All Composition and Reading. They were all pretty much the same, just a slight curriculum change to make it harder for each grade as he saw fit. The girls in his Senior class were the worst with their flirtatious behavior, so bad sometimes that he’s had to call them out or send them to the principals office - feigning that he’s concerned they won't be able to focus enough in his class because of their small crush. It was a serious problem - some even slipped him their number when handing in their papers or passing notes on purpose during class because they knew he would take them away if they were caught. He’s never used them of course, simply throws them in the trash with a shake of his head. He wasn't meaning to be cocky about it, it just made him a bit nervous and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, some girls still hadn't gotten the memo. 

But he was still surprised when he heard the light tapping on the closed door, small shadows of feet appearing against the tiled floor just outside. He understood that it was nearing the end of the semester and the students might be panicking a bit too hard over their studies, he’s been there a time or two during high school and college. But his rules were set in place for a reason. He figured it was better to make the rule for everyone rather than show “favorites”. He knew some of the students would probably love the extra study time, but he just couldn't take the chance. The lunch rule wasn't even his decision quite frankly, it was also a school rule that you must reside in either the lunch room, football field, or atrium during lunch hours - no sneaking off on your own agenda without a valid reason. Coming to his classroom wasn't really a valid reason. Yes, some students slipped past the radar, but it wasn't often. Girls were sneaky, and being one of the only males in an all girls school, he started to learn their little tricks. 

He sat still behind his desk, eyes glued to the stand still shadow behind the aquatex glass window of the door. A frown stretched across his face as he wondered who it could be, the place was normally deserted and quiet during lunch break - a good 45-60 minutes of absolute silence. Depended on the day.  He wondered briefly who it was and what they wanted. Even though the knock was quiet, it nearly scared him - that’s how unusual sound was at this time of day. He was sure he could blast his music as loud as he could and no one would be able to hear. He didn’t of course, it would disrupt his concentration. 

It bothered Ethan sometimes that he had such a close eye on him at all times. Just because he was young, with a tall, sturdy frame, thick hair, strong jawline, plump pink lips, and a naturally prominent bulge that he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. There were always eyes watching his every move. No, he wasn't the type to flaunt his sex appeal. He didn't like that he was watched like a hawk because he was “hot”. He knew he was watched, knew the women lusted after him, but he kept himself in check. He also knew he was attractive, confident, and had a charm that could sway any girl to be on their knees within seconds. He’d used it quite a few times in college. But as far as he was concerned, he was at the school to teach Composition and Reading - not to stare at girls in their tiny skirts or at their shirts that they refused to button the way they should. He wasn't here for that, plus half of the girls were underage anyway. That and it was just simply wrong. Strictly against the rules. 

And it wasn't just the students that would throw themselves at him - but the female staff as well. That made the eyes on him even heavier, as if someone higher up was just waiting for him to slip up, take the bait and get himself into a mess he’s sure he’d never get out of. Because of the close watch on him, he would try and escape from the prying eyes of his co-workers during his lunch break just to sit by himself and get much needed work done that he might not have time for at home or during the day. He liked that this was his alone time without anyone bothering his concentration. He actually thought it was one of the crucial parts of his school day. 

He got enough sex to satisfy his needs elsewhere anyhow, not much, but enough. It slowed down after he had a small fling with a female teacher when he first arrived at the school - but it ended as quickly as it started. He fucked her twice and then she turned obsessive and he had to end it in the kindest way he could. He didn't have the energy for the “coworker against coworker” fiasco that would surely start if the word got out that he rejected her after they’d had sex. It would sound dishonorable to everyone that didn't understand the situation. But other than that, it was women he took interest in that were friends of friends, even some women he’s hooked up with before. It wasn't like when he was in college - he was kind of a sex crazy beast in his younger years. That hasn't changed, he just didn't have as much opportunity. Though since he wasn't really meeting anyone at school, he wasn't making it a point to go and find a random female to fuck. Just wasn't his forte. But he liked to believe he got enough. Enough to keep him from going insane. 

He sighed softly, not all that happy about being interrupted, but not wanting to ignore whoever it was and be rude. He set his blue inked pen down, stopped the soft music playing from his phone, and pushed the hair back on his head neatly. He noticed that on many occasions it gets quite frazzled from him tugging on it when he was bored or frustrated. He wondered for a moment if it was just another teacher wanting to come and sit with him for some company, but that didn't sound appealing for him if he’s honest. He wanted to be alone and most of the teachers knew that. He cleared his throat, just to assure the person who was waiting that he was inside, before he finally spoke out calmly, but with enough volume that whoever it was could hear him, “Come in.” 

The door opened slowly, slowly enough that he just knew it wasn't a teacher. Teachers opened the door with purpose, not a hint of shyness in sight. Students were always the ones that opened the door like it weighed 100 pounds. That thought in mind, he wasn't really surprised that he was right. But he was surprised to see the familiar face of one of his best students. He recognized her beautiful face immediately as she appeared slowly from behind the door. Blushing cheeks and all. 

She stood almost nervous with her snug white blouse and grey plaid skirt. A dull outfit for such a bright girl. But it wasn't her fault she had to wear a uniform. He knew what the girls had to wear and he knew she was a little older than the rest of the girls in her class. She was in his Senior class he remembered. She was ravishing. Utterly fucking gorgeous and he couldn't deny it. Ethan tried his hardest not to look down her body. But he found himself holding back more than he thought was normal. She was normally very shy, sat in the back, had her head low during class, fiddled with her pen a lot. She had cute quirks that he caught onto early in the year. She was always the first to hand in her paper, and it was always excellent, had neat handwriting and wonderful thoughts - but she refused to participate in class discussions. He never thought anything of her silence, so he thought it was strange that she would come to his class unannounced and during a time she wasn't allowed. He knew she knew the rules that had been set in place for all four years and even before that. 

She took a step inside the room, hands toying with the white bottom button of her blouse. A small smile rushed to her face at the sight of his eyes lingering on her patiently. 

“Can I help you?” He ushered her forward, earning him a small nod and the view of her turning around the shut the door softly behind her. He took note that she twisted the lock quickly, secretively. His eyes flickered with confusion at her actions, but he shook his head to rid the look before she turned back around and took a step closer to him with a nervous huff from her rosy lips. If he looked closer, he might see her visibly shaking. 

“You know I don’t usually offer help during lunch,” he explained, knowing she knew, but making it clear that she was breaking the rules. He felt bad for a moment that he sounded so harsh and cold. He was unsure why she was even here, she was the top of her class - she’d always had a steady A in the class - and every other class he’s sure. Surely she didn't really need the help. 

“I know Mr. Dolan I’m sorry, I just need a little bit of help,” she finally spoke, doe eyes blinking a few times at him, showing off her long lashes. He saw that her pupils were dilated but chose to ignore it. He didn't want to make any assumptions that weren't true. 

“You can come back 5th hour if you’d like, I don't really have the time during lunch...Y/n right?” He pondered, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest while he stared her down. God she was beautiful. 

“Uh yeah.” A sweet smile makes it’s way to her face, along with a pinky blush. She rocks back and forth on her heels, a nervous habit he’s noticed a few times this year.  She doesn't ask many questions, but when she does she always falls into that habit. She just never knew what to do with herself when it came to him. 

“Well, Y/n just come back in a few hours with any questions you have and we can go from there, sound good?” The way she’s making his heart race is making him sweat, his hand coming up to loosen the tie from around his neck. He felt like he might choke if she kept batting her eyelashes at him like that. 

“You don’t even have a second to listen?” she simpered, dipping her head to the side and giving him her best puppy dog eyes. There was a glimmer in her eyes he hadn't ever seen before, it had him clearing his throat once more. He really wanted to cut her some slack, just feeling the nerves radiating off of her was making him nervous now. The way she’d said it made it seem like she came to talk to him about a personal problem, and that alone had him tensing up from his neck to his shoulders. He’s not really all that good with personal problems, hell he’s not even good with his own. Plus if this is true, he doesn't know why in the hell she would go to him and not any of the many female teachers in the building who were far more equipped to help. 

“I really don't mean to be bothering you, I can see your really busy. I’m just kind of nervous about my grades and with finals coming up I’m getting in my head about all of the work...” she carries on, resulting to chewing on her bottom lip to ease the nerves coursing through her. 

“There’s really nothing to worry about, Y/n. You’ve always excelled in this class and I’m sure the final won’t be any different. I can assure you that you’ll find it easy. I can give you extra study material if you’d like, just to freshen up.” He really was trying to pacify her, not knowing exactly what to say to someone that was so nervous about a class that was clearly so easy for them. Not only that but she kept chewing on her fucking lip and it was driving him mad. She wouldn't even meet his eyes, seemingly making it worse for him. 

“Honestly...that’s not really my problem,” she admitted with a sigh while she stepped the tiniest bit closer, noticing his eyes flicker down to where her silky smooth thighs rubbed together while she walked, “I kind of need some personal advice, sir. It’ll only take a second.”

The look she was giving him from under her long lashes was void of any of the shyness he’d seen moments before, no. This time he could see something devious and lustful pooling in her dilated pupils. She watched him closely as a look of confusion took over his handsome features once again. He chose to ignore the fact that she was now standing directly in front of his desk, keeping his eyes trained solely on her face and nowhere else. 

“I think a female teacher would be better fit to counsel you with a personal problem, miss Y/l/n. I’m afraid I wouldn't be too much help,” he smiled softly at her, eyes full of sympathy. So handsome. “But I do advise you to get back to lunch before an administrator finds you in here. I don’t think they’d be too happy about seeing a student roaming the halls when it’s such a nice day outside.” 

“Sir, I don't think you understand,” she rushes, “I really need your help. I came to you for a reason.” 

He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips quickly, but he noticed nonetheless. He notices a lot of the things she does. 

“Is it serious? If it’s serious you should see the principal. But you really should get back to lunch, Y/n,” he urges on before she has a chance to answer, “You may come back 5th hour if you’d like. I’ll have more time to talk. But it’s best if you get back to your friends.” He’s nervous about how close her body is, breath turning shallow from the sweet smell of her perfume. 

Her brows dip down as she huffs, frustrated that he’s not catching onto her obvious flirting - and if he is, that he’s not giving her anything to work with. Ethan sits upright just as she rounds his desk, the toe of her shoe pressing against the wheel to roll the chair back further. He stays still, staring up at her looming frame over him, too shocked to do anything else. If he was expecting anything from her, it definitely wasn't that. He feels the soft tips of her hair rubbing against his cheekbone just as she swings her leg over his exposed lap, fitting to him snug. She’s straddling him, clothed core pressed right up against his bulge. Her skirt was bunched up over her thighs, smooth skin exposed for him to touch if he wished. 

“You see the thing is...none of the female teachers have what I want...what I need,” she whispers, staring into his hazel eyes that gawk at her twirling his tie between her fingers. Her tone is suggestive, seductive, everything it shouldn't be towards her teacher. 

“Miss Y/l/n, this is extremely inappropriate,” he grunts, wanting to push her off of his lap in shock, but instead raising his hands so he’s not touching her at all. If someone tries to come in he doesn't want them to see his hands even near her body that fits with his so...perfectly. No he needs to focus. 

“I’m just really stressed and anxious sir,” she whispers again, running her hands down his front and noticing how firm he was beneath the material of his dress shirt. She sighs as her pussy clenches at the thought of what resides beneath, “I haven't had sex in months which is far too long. I just need to be fucked right.” 

“Y/n get off. This is against the rules and you shouldn't be here,” he spoke sternly, as much as he could through his voice shaking. He expected her to look hurt, maybe even offended at him rejecting her in such an embarrassing way, but he only saw a smirk. 

“Mr. Dolan I need a man,” she hummed, “a man that will fuck me nice and hard. I need you Mr. Dolan. I need you to fuck me.” She popped her lip out into a pout, still running her hands up and down his chest until she hooked her arms around his neck and leaned in close to his lips. If he just leaned forward a bit they would be kissing. 

He really didn't expect for this normally quiet and shy girl on top of him to be so bold. He had never seen her like this and never thought in a million years these words would be tumbling from her mouth. He gasps quickly when she reaches down to tug at his belt buckle, staring down with a hungry look on her face, eye fucking him. 

This had never happened before and he wasn't really sure what to do. Normally the advances from the girls were subtle and harmless, but this was...this was dangerous in many ways. To say his morals were floating around in his head in a jumbled mess because he can feel the heat from her pussy against his dick is an understatement. He wanted it but he didn't want to want it. He grabbed onto her wrist in an attempt to stop her, watching her pout return to her face at the fact that he tried to stop her. 

“I’m well aware of your intentions Y/n. But this is wrong. I will not have sex with a student. No if, ands, or buts. Now leave and I promise we won’t ever have to talk about it again. I won’t tell anyone about this.” He meant it too. He didn't want a single person knowing that his student was sitting pretty on his lap in her...sexy uniform that wouldn't be sexy on anyone else but her if he’s being honest, “But I want you to get off my lap right now.” 

She sat for a moment, just staring at him to gauge his reaction before she slowly let go of his belt, looking as if she’d admitted defeat. “Okay...I’m sorry I broke the rules, sir.” But just as it had before, that same sensual grin came onto her face, sending a nice thumping from his heart through his chest once again as she said, “I’m so sorry that I've been a bad girl.” 

She slid her hips forward and back again repeatedly, not stopping even when his breathing stopped short and she felt his heart beating rapidly beneath her fingertips. She grabbed into the collar of his shirt, using it for something to hold onto as she rolled her hips into his, making it unbearable for him to stay in line. He watched in awe while she untucked her shirt from the waistband of her skirt, pulling it out and slowly undoing the buttons, one by one until she revealed the soft pink of her bra and the curves of her hips. She was breathtaking and he couldn't deny that if he wanted to. She pushed her core harder against his slacks, loving the pressure it put against her clit. His eyes traveled down the expanse of her body to where their hips met, feeling like he might pass out if she doesn't stop now. 

If he’s honest, he’s wanted this for quite some time. She’s just...something else. He’s caught himself staring at her longer than he should in lectures and she doesn't know it but he can see right up her skirt when she sits at her desk, his eyes drifting down far too often from his own desk. But he would never imagine himself acting on anything. The consequences that would follow if anyone ever caught him kissing her like he desired to, were scary to say the least. But he wanted to so bad. That thought had him gulping while he looked at her all spread out on his lap and grinding herself against him. Her head was resting against her shoulder, a blissed out look on her face while she rolled over his clothed dick, the skin of her thighs causing a rubbing sound that he didn't mind much. 

He was suddenly happy for a split second that she locked the door, even though he knew someone would be able to see the shadow through the glass window if they looked hard enough. He also know that the administrators and janitors had a key to his door and would surely use it if they had any indication something insubordinate was going on inside. It had him all jittery the think that someone could catch them even if he hasn't touched her...yet. He hated the fact that he was tempted, he was so tempted to fuck her senseless that it almost killed him to not have his hands dipping into her sides and roll her harder against him. 

His cheeks were heating up fast by the quiet moan that emits from her lips, soft and angelic. He knows that if he lets it slide they will only get louder and he doesn't want a single soul to hear. He knows that the building is deserted, but just the thought of someone hearing her sounds is terrifying and sends a panic through him, causing a hand to fly up and cover her mouth, the other to wrap around her throat lightly. It was the first time he’s touched her and he felt like his hands were on fire just by touching her skin. He was going to hell. 

She stared at him over his hands, breathing out through her nose and waiting for him to explain why he’d shushed her so frantically. He looks mad. And he is. He’s fucking pissed off that he wants her so bad and that he’s so hard beneath her he’s worried he’s leaking precum. He’s mad that she’s put him in a position that has his brain so out of order that he can't think of anything else but ramming his dick into her against his desk. He’s mad that he’s never wanted to fuck someone so bad in his life and he’s mad that she has to be his student. He’s mad because he wants her, and not just right now, but always and it’s driving him crazy. 

“Don’t you realize what will happen if I fuck you, Y/n? Do you fucking know?” He seethed, a hand reaching to grip at her ass deliciously, leaving a smack against the flesh and feeling it jiggle in his hands. She jumps away from his hand against her mouth from the contact, surprised that he made such a risky move when he’s been frozen like a statue the whole time. 

“You’ll cum...I’ll cum...we’ll have mind blowing sex,” she answers calmly, so sure it makes him more mad because he’s certain she’s right. 

“Wrong. I’ll get fired. I will be out on my ass before I can even blink,” he snapped, “I will lose everything. We will both be in a fuck ton of trouble, including you...then you’ll really be stressed won’t you kitten?” he hums, a smirk plastered onto his face as he leans in to ghost his lips over her own, testing the line before stepping over it. She’s pouting agains, wanting him to kiss her and show her what he’s really thinking because this denial is bullshit and she can tell he wants it. She can tell from his hard-on that’s pressing against her right now. 

She nods, not wanting him to deny her but still understanding why he’s so scared to want it. But Ethan takes her by surprise when he places both hands under her ass and lifts her up like a feather. She clutches his biceps tightly from his sudden movements, clinging onto him just until he sets her on the edge of his desk. He had one hand buried in her hair, making a fist and pulling. 

“So I’m gonna need you to keep that pretty mouth closed okay?” he growled, sinister glare set straight into her eyes. He was serious. No games here. He was holding back a smile at the giggle she let out next, overjoyed when he spread her legs wider. She’s keeping herself up on her elbows, grinning up at his handsome face, tempted to pull him down by his tie for a kiss. But he still hasn't gotten an answer. 

He grips her chin angrily, making sure she’s looking right into his hazel eyes, “Am I understood?” So stern. She knew that he was trying to assert himself, make sure she knew he was in the position of power. But he had nothing to worry about when it came to her, that’s all she wants right now. To have him take control and use her in the best way. 

“Yeah, daddy,” she simpered once again, a tiny pout on her face. He could feel the blood rushing to his cock in an instant. He’s never been called that before but something about the way she said it had him addicted already, “I promise I’ll keep you a secret, I promise I won’t tell,” she carried on, dragging a finger across his sharp jawline, leaning up just enough to leave a peck against the skin of his neck. When she leaned back, she was biting her bottom lip again. 

He couldn't think about how wrong this was. He couldn't think about the fact that he was possibly taking advantage of her when he was adult and was the one responsible for saying no. So instead of thinking he pulled her to the edge of the desk, tugging harshly on her plaid skirt. She sat in her matching baby pink panties, so delicate for such a dirty girl. He took the time to dip his hand down, cupping her heat and rubbing slowly, torturing her like she’d tortured him for so long. He only toyed with her for a moment longer before ripping her bra off, panties off as well, he groaned from deep in his chest as the sight of her dripping core. 

He wanted to take it slow, feel every curve of her body, every inch of her skin - but considering his compromising position he needed to make it fast. He couldn't waste time. He needed to fuck her hard and fast like she wanted and get it out of his system because it’s eating him alive. He didn't have the time to caress her and kiss her tenderly. He just couldn't take the time right now. The thought of someone coming to knock on the door while he had her splayed out wide and wet on his desk was something that chilled him to the bone. 

He paused for just a second so that the rapid thoughts in his head could quiet down and let him focus: What if she’s underage? What if someone comes? This is so wrong. You’re gonna get fired. But how could he ever say no?

Instead of getting lost in his thoughts and overthinking the entire situation, he chose not to think at all - let his instincts take in. He quickly grasped the cold metal of his belt buckle, peeling it from his belt loops on his slacks and pushing them all the way down his legs and to the side. He watched her gazing at him dreamily, so focused on his large hands pulling his massive length out for her to see, sitting so deliciously in his palm. She licked her lips when she noticed the tip was the same reddish pink as his freshly kissed lips. He tossed his underwear into the pile of clothes on the floor beside the desk, forgotten. He leaned over her, taking another second to land his lips on hers once again, tasting her chapstick and feeling his heart warm at the way she leans back up when he tries to pull away, sighing into his mouth. 

When he breaks free he’s grabbing at himself to rub the head of his cock up and down her wet opening. Ethan teased her slowly, tapping at her clit just to hear her gasp and jump beneath his touch. She clenches with a wince when he tries to push in slowly, never has she been with anyone this big and she hope he understood from the whimper that slipped out. He gave her a soft smile, rubbing his hand over her soft thigh in understanding, making sure that when he tries again he takes his time. 

He has to stop halfway, throwing his head back from the way she grips him so tight, overwhelmed. Y/n grips his arms, bracing herself for him to sink all the way inside of her. He captures her lips with his own as he rammed his cock into her time and time again, relishing in the warm tight wetness of her pussy that he’s not stopped thinking about since she unknowingly opened her legs from beneath her desk months ago and he caught sight of heaven on earth. His hips met hers with a harsh smack, loud enough to be heard from outside the door, but a delicious sound to his ears anyway. Ethan was over the moon, buried deep into the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, who happened to be none other than his student. He breathed hard when his gaze went from her bright eyes down to her chest that rose and fell rapidly, down to where he disappeared inside of her heat. 

Y/n couldn't hardly breathe just looking at his body so firm above her, tie swinging with every thrust of his hips, buttons undone at the top of his shirt. She was tempted to shut her eyes simply from the pleasure and euphoria that took over her every nerve, but refrained when she saw the blissed out look on his face she’d only ever seen in her dreams. 

She had envisioned this exact moment so many times within her daydreams, scribbling mindlessly while she watched him talk about nonsense in front of the class, scanning her eyes over his front the best that she could when he wasn't looking. It was maddening to want his cock so bad. She’d dreamt about being fucked against this very desk. She’d woken up in a sweaty gasping frenzy from the vivid image of what she is seeing right now. But this time it was real and she was being fucked on his desk. The grunts and groans emitting from his mouth weren't a figment of her imagination any longer. He was ramming into her shaking body so hard that the pens near her head were knocked to the floor with a clatter, binders falling, papers flicking off the wood and to the ground silently. But he paid no attention to the racket, only her loud breathing and gushing sounds coming from where he did his best to ruin her. 

A spark of anger arose from deep within his chest when he looks up to find her grinning at him, a gloating sneaky little glare that reads “you love this and you know it.” It made him angry because she did this, she walked in here everyday in her short she knew was too short, she came and sought him out, made him weak, made him want her. With an angry “fuck” Ethan’s wrapping one hand around her throat - not too tight, but tight enough to make a point and grumbling low, “You knew what you were doing didn't you?” 

She grabs at his wrist, hand fumbling with his fingers for a second, just feeling at them lightly with a smile, nodding her head and batting her eyelashes. She could feel her thighs shaking and tightening around his waist, her heels pushing into his thighs to push him into her harder. 

“Such a fucking slut...is this what you wanted?” he continues to growl from within his throat, hard staring her with dark, lust-filled eyes. 

“Y-yes,” she gasped, a strangled sound coming from her throat from the pressure of his hand around her airway, “fuck me harder daddy please. Love it so much.” 

Ethan had become hot and sweaty quickly, a patch forming on the front of his shirt from where he’d soaked through, enough to have him yanking at his tie and hastily removing it from around his neck. He suddenly felt very large in a shirt that normally fits so well, but then again he was never pushing against the buttons and railing a beautiful girl into his desk, so that might be a factor to think about. 

“Fuckin’ hot in here,” he grumbled to himself as he unbuttoned his blazer all the way down, feeling the cool air touch his chest for the first time and sighing at how good it felt. He still hasn't stilled his hips, his rhythm even and steady. It impressed her that he had a will to keep going to matter what and she just knew that even if someone did knock on that door - he wouldn't stop. He would finish what he started. But looking at his bare torso that showed under the unbuttoned shirt still had her breathless and swooning. She hadn't expected him to take his clothes off, too worried about how fast he needed to be for obvious reasons. But she wasn't complaining by any means. 

The slither of tan skin that she could see had her whimpering and throwing her head back on the desk, nails reaching beneath the flailing fabric to rake her nails down the smooth surface - over every bump and ridge. She forced herself to open her eyes and appreciate the way his abs flexed with every thrust into her, the way his eyebrows were drawn down in concentration, the way he bit at his bottom lip and watched her closely. She hardly expected him to grip at the back of her neck to pull her up just enough to bury his face in the skin of her neck - kissing fiercely. His teeth dug in in the most delicious way, sucking on the sore spots and admiring the dark purple that was left behind from his assault. They would be nearly impossible to cover, and that made him proud. With a grin he gripped her hips tight, ramming himself into her harder still, chuckling at the bright red of her skin from his hips pounding into her own. If she wanted rough, rough was what she was going to get. 

“Yessss daddy right there right there right there-” she screeched so loud he was sure the entire city would be able to hear. But he didn't have the heart to stop her. He craved to hear that desperate howl, frantic and scared he was going to stop hitting that sweet spot that drove her to madness. Well, he wouldn't dream of it. 

“You like that spot kitten? Hm? Right here?” he mocked, pushing a hand down on her tummy and driving into her deep, stilling before pulling out all the way, and slamming right back in. 

She whimpered pathetically, throwing her head back and trying to crawl away from how deep he was. She’s sure that if she didn't want to look tough, she would be crying right now. But she just wanted to be good for him.

When he offered two fingers for her to suck on, she greedily opened her mouth, tongue out, flicking around the digits while they settled against the flesh. Her eyes trained on his own menacing hazel ones while she sucked, letting him gag her if he pleased, adoring the way she felt so full in not one but two places. The tears brimmed in her eyes while he pushed his fingers to the back of her throat, fucking her mouth with his hand and loving the gagging sound she gave him. 

“God look at you taking me so well...sucking daddy’s fingers like the good girl you are...so pretty,” he whispered, almost to himself with how low the volume of his voice was. But she heard, and it still made her feel good. The ball inside of her started to grow bigger the more he pushed into her, the harder he pounding, the more he gagged her, the more he praised and degraded her all at once. It was all too much and if he kept going she would have no choice but to let the fire consume her. 

She bucked her hip up, taking notice of the sound of crumpling paper underneath her and giggling when she remembered it was probably papers he was grading from before. If only they knew. If only they could see the way their teacher fucked her raw and wild on his desk, fingers dipping into her skin, groaning low and dark into her ear, smashing his lips against hers like he really meant it. Did he really mean it? If only they could know that the crumple of the papers he was going to hand back would be from their sexual escapade happening right now. It all made her head spin in the best way. 

Her screaming only rose in volume, his eyes widening and a hand rising to cover her opened mouth. He gave her a brilliant smile, but a warning still lingered in his eyes that looked down on her. “Shhh baby,” he shushed her, feeling her giggle behind his hand, her eyes shining at him innocently. But he knew so much different. He pulled his hand away only to lift her from the desk once more, shuffling her weight up his body, loving the way she fit him so perfectly. He held her in his arms, her own circling around his neck and kissing at his cheekbones lovingly. 

Ethan was still buried to the hilt, so deep in her pussy, so warm. He took her ass into his hands and bounced her up and down on his muscular body, smacking her body down onto his own and sucking at her nipples while she moaned repeatedly above him. 

Y/n hooks her ankles behind his waist, bucking her hips against his because she just couldn't get enough. He was addicting. She adored the way he gazed at her, sucked at her tits, treated her pussy like gold, kissed her like there was this passion he’s waited to set free for so long, adored the way he did a complete 180 from a professional that was scared to let loose, to a fuck machine that broke her apart with his dick. She moaned hungrily while she looked down at him suckling on her left breast, her bud rolling against his skilled tongue. She wondered for a moment what it would feel like on her pussy, wondered if it’s everything she imagined it would be. She had no doubts she was right. 

“How do I feel baby? Is daddy doing a good job?” he growls, looking for the reassurance he honestly didn't need. He knew he was doing amazing by the shaking in her thighs in his hands. But he still wanted to hear her filthy little mouth say it. 

“So good daddy, doing so good,” she emphasized every word, whimpering and moaning and gasping like a complete mess that she is. She would be okay if she finished like this, with him holding her like she doesn't weigh a pound, ramming her down onto his cock hard and fast and unbelievably easy. And she nearly complains when he starts to back up and tumble into the desk chair. It rolls slightly under the pairs weight. 

He wraps her lips within a tender kiss once again, breaking free with a sharp intake. “Ride me kitten,” he grunted, continuing to kneed the flesh of her ass in his hands. He doesn't know why he’s doing it, but he knows he likes doing it. And he knows she likes him doing it by the content smile stretched across her face. 

She nodded at his demand, situating herself against his lap to find leverage before she started to bounce with purpose. 

She continued to sink down, wiggling her hips just to tease him when she felt the small tickle of the tuft of hair near his belly button. She was clenching, grinding, genuinely throwing it back on him in a way he’s never seen before, and he doesn't think after this he’ll be able to keep himself in check. 

She moaned in his ear just by the feeling of his large hands caressing up her back and down to her ass to leave a harsh slap, surely leaving a lovely red splotch behind. He found the strength to raise his head from her tits, tightening his grip on her ass and moaning softly at how good she felt, “Such a good girl for me. Ride my fuckin dick, yeah that’s it. Make me cum, baby. Be good and make daddy proud of you. Make me cum.” 

Ethan could feel his orgasm coming in strong, racing through him fast. He sat back in the chair, closing his eyes and really feeling all of her walls contract around his shaft and hug him so tight. He breathed out hard through his nose, trying to decide whether he would have the strength to hold it if he opened his eyes again. 

Y/n grinned at his struggle, bouncing faster and faster, moaning louder and longer. His jaw clenched with every swear word that tumbled from her rosy lips, reminding her of just how handsome he was. When she let go around him, her juices spraying out against the tan skin of his thighs, he thought he might lose it at the sight. She was writhing and dragging her nails down his arms, scratching at his skin. 

“Fuuuckkkkk oh my fucking God that’s so...oh my fucking God right there,” she screeching louder than ever before, shocked that she hasn't felt him release into her yet. 

The heat that had just erupted inside of her was unlike anything she’d felt before. Certainly one of the hardest if not the best orgasms she’s ever had.  He gave her a cocky grin when he smacked his hand down onto her ass one final time before lifting her away. He couldn't risk cumming in her and her not be on birth control considering he hadn't used a condom for obvious reasons.

 “Get on your knees,” he ordered her hotly, voice low and stern. She dropped to the ground with wobbly knees and a racing heart, her pussy clenching around nothing in particular now that she was empty. She still felt herself dripping in arousal against the floor beneath her, knowing she will most likely have to go home and change after this and feign illness. The soreness in her limbs already tells her walking won’t be the best option for the rest of the day.

 She took him gently into her hand, wrapping her plump lips around his swollen head to suckle and kiss it gently. She wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to look at her with pleading eyes and a panic in him that she won’t let him cum. When she removes her lips, she receives that very same look, begging without actually saying a word. So licks up the underside of him, a slow, hot stroke of her tongue. Messy and filled with saliva. He watched her carefully, resting a hand within her hair as she enveloped him in her wet mouth. He thought he might pass out when she pushed him all the way inside her mouth, deepthroating him with tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She took it like she was forced, even though he had simply rested his head back and let her work at him. It was all too much. She started to pump what she didn't have in her mouth, feeling him twitch against her tongue and buck his hips up randomly, gagging her. 

“Y/n I’m gonna-” he’s cut short with a long breath from his nose, clenching his jaw tight while he finished down her throat in long hot spurts. She was clenching her eyes shut and taking it like the good girl she was, swallowing every drop he gave her. It surprised her that it was sweeter than she thought, all thoughts of the liquid being bitter now gone. He continued to groan above her, sensitive and wincing from her hand that kept pumping him. She knew he was completely finished, she removed him from her mouth with a pop and an angelic smile, kissing his tip one last time. 

He was frozen in his chair, frozen and shocked and fucked out and scared. Scared because he’s never cum that hard in his life ever. Shocked because he didn't want her to go. Frozen because she was rising her feet already, giggling while she gathered her clothing from the ground and got dressed in quick motions. He couldn't even find it in himself to move from how hard he’d just orgasmed. 

He watched her calmly, arms dangling over the arms of the chair, limp and lifeless, dick laying against his belly. He smiled softly when she leaned down to leave a breathless kiss on his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw while she held his face gently. “Thank you daddy,” she whispered, kissing his jaw just one more time before she leaned back to send him a wink, “I promise I won’t tell.” 

Ethan sat still while she pulled her panties up her legs, then her skirt, before buttoning her blouse and tucking it in to try and look the same as she did when she walked through the door. His head spun at the swivel of her hips as she tugged up the skirt, knowing if he had more time he’d fuck her again. She grabbed her bag from the floor, swung it over her shoulder and looked back at him with a grin, raising her hand to wave at him just as she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, leaving him alone. The door closed with a click, normally it was quiet, but now that the moans and slapping of skin were absent, it sounded deafening. 

He looked across his destroyed desk, papers strewn every which direction, pens on the floor, papers wet from her juices, seeing it in a totally new light than he had moments before. He scooped the pens from the ground, then the runaway papers, then his clothing that he had ripped from his body in a moment of weakness. That’s what it was right? A moment of absolute weakness that can never ever happen again. 

It was just a moment that will be erased in history, never spoken about. He tried cleaning his desk up as neatly as possible, trying not to worry about the fact that he was naked, that is, until the bell rang and panic set in. 

He fucked a student. He actually fucked her. He didn't just have sex with her but he fucked her. He’s naked right now, in his classroom, cleaning up the desk that he fucked her on. He’s going to have to teach after this. He’s going to have to care about teaching her classmates after this. He’s going to have to think of her pussy now when he jerks off. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she just rode him in his chair like a dirty little slut. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she’d called him daddy. He’s going to have to forget that he wants to do it again.

 “Fuck.” 

tags: @dolandolll​ @stayalivw​ 

#ethan dolan #Ethan and Grayson #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins #dolan twins smut #youtube #youtubers #smut #fanfic #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fanfiction #dolan twins fanfic #ALL!e #ALL!ethan #e!concepts #ethan!concepts #blurbs #ethan blurb #grayson blurb