Carol is not a man. She doesn’t use he/him pronouns. Re read your work next time. It really put me off
I'm aware she's not a man, lol. Sorry for putting you off... I had started that fic for another character and guess I didn't edit well enough. I'm in grad school full time, and I work multiple internships and jobs so. Sorry. This is also just phrased in such a rude way--writers make mistakes, and I don't always have time to meticulously comb through every single line of work. Thank you for pointing it out, but still. You could've been a bit nicer.
Behind the jokes and badassness, Captain Marvel is a fascinating character to me, because of how death follows her.
She causes an explosion. That explosion, which gives her powers and her immortality, canonically kills her. The Kree Empire resurrects her and makes her as Kree as they can. She shares Yon-Rogg's blood and his life, she's his creation, she's his victim, she's the one who causes his downfall, she's the one that destroys the system, the society, the planet that allowed her to be abused.
It's the Kree that see her as a killer and Annihilator. She's a monster of their own making, but it influences every species and planet she touches. Her victories cause death and her mistakes cause more death. Carol's triumph, the death of the Supreme Intelligence, results in the death of probably millions of Kree, and by consequence, almost causes the death of Hala's star.
"I'm only human" Carol says, before killing the Empire that is the reason that she can't ever be human again.
"We'll be back for the weapon," Ronan says, but that weapon will kill everything he stands for.
"Your life began the day it nearly ended," The Supreme Intelligence says, coldly, calculatingly. It's an AI. It doesn't have a good concept of death. It doesn't fully grasp that Carol had genuinely been killed that day, because she's still in front of it. Carol kills it.
"Death seems to follow you," Dar-Benn says, before she causes an explosion with the bangles, trying to defeat Carol. The explosion kills Dar-Benn.
Death follows Carol. Death follows Carol! Mar-Vell is dead. Maria is dead. Talos is dead. Soren is dead. Ronan is dead. Minn-Erva is dead. Korath is dead. Dar-Benn is dead. Yon-Rogg is, probably, dead. The Supreme Intelligence is dead. Natasha is dead. Tony is dead.
The only people in Carol's life who aren't dead are Kamala, Monica, Yan, Valkyrie, and Fury.
She watches helplessly as Dar-Benn almost murders Kamala after Kamala tries to save Dar-Benn's life, tries to find a way to solve the violence without death.
She watches helplessly as Monica gets torn into another reality, which for all she knows, she could die in. The tear in reality that was caused by Dar-Benn's death.
She tries to hide Yan's existence from her friends and tries to warn him and his people. The Kree soldiers aren't fighting to maim, they're fighting to kill. He escapes death by his own fighting skills and the fact that the Kree would rather focus on killing Carol than him.
Valkyrie and Carol interact once, and she only calls when she needs help after a fight, not during. Think about it. Valkyrie and the Bifrost could have helped the trio enormously. But Carol doesn't call until the fights are over. It would be very easy for a regular Asgardian warrior to die compared to superhumans.
And Fury... have you seen how often Fury comes close to dying? He's alive from skill and luck. He is lucky that he isn't dead.
Captain Marvel is so, so fascinating. Her story begins with her own death, and the more it goes on, the more death happens around her. Nobody is safe. She causes almost all of them, even the ones of her friends - not directly, but through the consequences of her actions. The consequences of her victories and mistakes. The consequences of her anger and revenge, her power and powerlessness. It is caused by both the Human and Kree sides of her, by both Carol and Vers, Captain Marvel and the Annihilator.
Carol is immortal. She can't die. And death follows her anyway.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ . ┊ You're Carol's designated note taker, and usually the one teaching her a few things. What happens when you give her the wrong set of notes?
➺ warnings: dirty talk, spanking, edging, violent use of straps, carol danvers tops (but I fully believe she's a switch now), umm... general unholiness, bratting, etc.
✧ a/n: surprise... I'm back... more content coming soon... I promise I've got a val/carol/r fic coming soon, but this popped into my head and I couldn't resist... JOCK COLLEGE CAROL, OK? JOCK RUGBY COLLEGE CAROL.
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“Can any of you attempt to discern meaning from this week’s assigned reading? Why might I have selected this particular work for you all?” asks Professor Valkyrie, starting class for the day. Your hand immediately raises, and she nods in your direction.
“Well, was not Beckett’s entire point to find meaning in the absence of conventional meaning?”
Professor Valkyrie, nods.
‘Interesting thought,” she says. “Care to elaborate?”
“Well,” you begin. “Beckett created a landscape for us that is so alien and foreign, and unlike what we know. The play does not include any symbolic elements, and it does not really go anywhere. You might try to make meaning out of the carrot that Didi and Gogo share, or the leaves appearing on the tree, but they literally mean nothing. At the end of the play--we, as well as Vladimir and Estragon, are all still waiting for Godot. So, in a sense, there is no meaning, but perhaps there is meaning in the fact that there is no intended meaning.”
“Good,” replies Professor Valkyrie. “As always, a carefully articulated and thoroughly crafted response. Excellent work as usual.”
You smile politely, and fall back into your seat as Professor Valkyrie continues to lecture about Samuel Beckett and the wonderful nature and reality of Waiting for Godot.
Meanwhile, you’ve jotted at the top of your notes, in big bold letters ‘I hate this play!’
After all, the ability to just to understand and converse about a work of literature does not mean that one has to enjoy it.
After class, you’re stopped, as usual, by the one and only Carol Danvers. Resident jock, captain of the division one team, aspiring pilot, rumored sex god extrodinare, Carol Danvers. She’s quite the legend around campus, but not exactly for her work ethic as it pertains to academic pursuits, which are... lacking, to put it politely.
“Do you have my notes for me,” she asks, holding her hand out. “I need to at least act like I’m going to study tonight, right?”
You roll your eyes. “Carol, why do you ask for my notes if you never use them? You do realize that mere possession of the notes will not translate into you understanding the material, yes? You have to actually read them in order for the information to enter your head.”
Your reply is snarky, short and snappy, but you’re fed up with Carol at this point. She asks you for notes in all the classes you share together (which, granted, is not many,) but never seems to read them or take any of her classes very seriously. Carol narrows her eyes at the response.
“I’ll just sleep on them? Os--”
You cut her off, finishing her sentence.
“--mosis does not apply, Carol. You know that. You cannot absorb the material through the pores of your skin. Read the notes, and actually try for once, or stop bothering me. I could be taking notes for myself, rather than focusing on summarizing all of the lectures so that you can stuff them into your bag, never to see the light of day again. Don’t ask me for notes again unless you’re ready to be serious.”
With that, you hastily pull out a few papers from your bag, not bothering to double check if they were the correct ones or not. You shove the papers into Carol’s and turn away sharply, not bothering to look back. Granted, you were headed in the completely wrong direction, but you weren’t about to give Carol the satisfaction of seeing your face again.
Of course, Carol knows that you hardly need notes for your own purposes. Summarizing the lectures for her provides you with the information you need to keep your own mind sharp, with years of literary study and reading filling in the blanks to broader context for you. But still, you love to hassle her. Carol does feel guilty occasionally, knowing how much work you put into the notes you take for her. They’re always organized, and you write important little tidbits down in the margins. She always glances at them, but can never bring herself to actually study the notes.
Tonight is different. Carol is inspired, reenergized by your scathing talk. She sits down at her desk, and finally pulls out the notes you gave her. She reads the first line, and laughs to herself.
These definitely weren’t the notes she meant to give me, she thinks to herself.
You’re startled out of your evening study session by a loud ding from your phone. Normally, you wouldn’t check your phone in the middle of studying, but you’re intrigued.
Your jaw drops slightly when you notice that the text is from Carol.
8:57 hey. I’ve got a question about the notes
You’re shocked. Carol actually... read the notes?
9:00 Shoot for it. How can I help?
9:01 Well. The notes weren’t really on Waiting for Godot
9:04 Oh. Did I give you a repeat copy of last weeks’?
9:05 Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that they’re standard academic notes
You roll your eyes at her comment, typing out a harsh response before deleting it and sending a far more cordial reply.
9:06 Oh?
9:07 Well, for starters, I don’t think that Waiting for Godot has anything to do with sex.
Attached to her text is a picture of your recent exploration of the things that turned you on, or as you aptly named it “An empirical study of the things that make me wet.”
You’d never meant for anyone to see it, ever. It was purely a list of the things that you desperately wanted to try, things you enjoyed watching and reading, various things that interested you.
You’d written the list mostly as a joke, as a way to get the ideas out of your head. You wondered how it even found your way into your backpack, and you’re ready to curl up into a ball and cry when Carol texts you again.
9:13 I could help you, you know
9:14 I have a few things that I could teach you
9:15 What do you say we make a deal?
You swallow thickly, intrigued.
9:17 What sort of deal?
9:19 You teach me literature.
9:21 I’ll fulfill your deepest fantasies. (And take you out on a date ;) )
You blink slowly, unable to process the words appearing on your screen. A date? Lessons in sex? It all seems to be far too much to handle, and you’re not sure if Carol is serious. The prospect is alluring, however, and you can’t help but admit that you’ve had the tiniest (largest) of crushes on Carol ever since you saw her in that signature leather jacket of hers, kicking her legs up against the desk in front of her, even if your feelings were against your better judgment. You knew she was aware of this fact, and the way you were always angry around him for some odd reason.
9:24 If this is a joke, it isn’t funny, Carol.
9:30 I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow. Be ready. We’re getting pasta.
“So. You want to be a pilot, but now you’re here playing rugby and studying literature?”
Carol shrugs.
“My best friend Maria and I were supposed to enlist together, but some shit happened and he needed me to stick around. I’ve always been good at rugby even though my dad hated that I played sports, and so I stuck around here. Got a full scholarship for rugby, and put the dream of flying aside. The academy will always be there. It’s not what I wanted, but it’s what Maria needed. I couldn’t just leave her when she needed me most.”
You smile softly at Carol, shocked by her sudden display of emotion. She’s clearly conflicted, and her eyes drift up to the sky, staring wistfully at the dimming horizon.
“I think that’s very brave of you, Carol. You’re a really good friend,” you say, reaching out to place a hand atop hers in a sudden burst of confidence. The evening had been oddly pleasant, and conversation flowed between the two of you. Granted, Carol was still somewhat of an egotistical jerk, but she was obviously emotionally conflicted, and she had sacrificed her biggest dream to help her closest friend when she needed it most.
Carol looks down at your hand, tensing up for a second before flipping her palm to meet yours and giving your hand a quick squeeze.
“I’m alright, ok? I don’t want you worrying about me.”
You nod. Carol smiles, and moves to stand up.
“What do you say we get out of here, and head back to my place? Maybe watch a movie?”
You smile, nodding at Carol. “I’d like that a lot,” you whisper. “I’d like that.”
Carol holds her hand out to you, helping you up out of your chair. You move to pull your hand out of hers, assuming she meant to just assist you up, but she holds on firmly as the two of you walk back to her vintage red Mustang.
The drive back to her apartment is filled with throwbacks from the 90s, widows open and hair wild. You’re both singing the words of the songs obnoxiously, relishing in the sweet freedom of the open night.
When you finally reach her apartment, your eyes are bright and your hair is messy. You look over at Carol, messy hair strewn about. You begin to laugh uncontrollably, with Carol joining shortly after upon seeing your own windblown look.
When the laughter finally succeeds, you look over at Carol to find her gazing at you intently. You laugh apprehensively, but Carol’s gaze does not falter.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful,” she asks.
You nod your head slowly. “Not really, no.”
“But you had a boyfriend?”
You nod. “It wasn’t really the best of situations. I’ve since come to many realizations about myself since then.”
Carol smiles. “Well, then I guess I’ll just have to tell you as many times as I possibly can to make up for the lack of times you’ve been told that.”
“Carol, I don’t even know how to respond to that,” you sputter out.
“So don’t.”
Carol leans in over the middle of the car, hesitantly pressing her lips against yours in a tender kiss. You’re surprised at first, but you lean into the kiss, melting against her mouth. Your hands tangle in her already messy hair, and you smile against her lips. The kiss intensifies as your hands begin to roam down Carol’s back, fingers itching to explore. She pulls her hands off of you, smiling softly.
“Let’s head inside, Princess. We can have a lot more fun in my bedroom than we ever will out here.”
You nod your head, eagerly anticipating the next steps.
When you reach her apartment, he leads you past the kitchen, flipping on various light switches as she heads through the living room, finally reaching her bedroom. It’s surprisingly neat, with framed photos of her and a woman that you guessed was her friend Maria. There’s a small pin shaped like a sort of star resting atop her desk, with a framed photo of an adorable orange kitten. Her bed is neatly made, and the room is incredibly put together.
“You like it, huh?”
You jump, startled by Carol’s voice.
“Yeah. Um, it’s very nice,” you reply. “Super neat.”
Carol laughs.
“Yeah, for all my disorganization at school, I do like to keep my apartment pretty tidy.”
Carol walks over to her desk and picks up your list.
“I think this belongs to you, my darling. We don’t have to do anything with it, or even speak of it again should you so wish that to be the case.”
You bite your lip, considering your options.
“Were you really serious, Carol?”
Your heart is beating fast, and your palms are beginning to grow clammy.
She laughs.
“Of course I was serious, Princess. Why would I offer if I wasn’t?”
You look down, mumbling your answer out.
“I didn’t really think someone like you would ever be interested in someone like me, honestly.”
Carol laughs, walking over to you. She gently tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes.
“Hey. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, and you drive me up a wall when you’re yelling at me to fucking finally read your notes, as you so kindly put it in your own words. Of course I would be interested in a girl like you. You’re incredible.”
She kisses you softly, slipping hers hands underneath your sweater. Breaking away for a second, she whispers to stop her if anything is too much. Green for go, she says. Red for stop.
Her hands roam up your body, making their way up to your neck. She gently squeezes at the column of your throat, whispering in your ear.
“I noticed you had this on your list, Princess. I did read your notes this time, and I did study up. I know all the things that could make you tick. And yet, I still want to hear you tell me what you want. You want me to choke you? Squeeze your throat till you’re begging me to stop?”
“Yes, please,” you moan out.
“Then use your words, Princess. Mmm... and what else should we do today? What other things from your little list do you want to try? I know you don’t want to start off simple... You even said so yourself. Tell me with your words, Princess. Tell me what you want.”
You gasp, head tipping back as Carol’s hands resume their exploration of your body.
“Cat got your tongue, Princess? Normally you’re so vocal during class... Why change now?”
You moan again, unable to speak properly as Carol’s fingers find your nipples, gently pinching. He pinches harder when you are unable to answer her question.
Moving hers hand to cup your jaw, he harshly tilts your face to look at him.
“Answer me, Princess. I’m growing impatient and I don’t have all day. Normally you’re so quick to answer. What a shame.”
“Put me in my place, please,” you gasp out, voice breaking. “I want you to edge me and spank me and punish me and tell me what a naughty little girl I’ve been, touching myself to the thought of you. I want to eat you out while I’m forced to touch myself, unable to cum without your permission. I want you to choke me as you pound me into the mattress with your cock, reminding me of my place. I want to be your good little girl, moaning only your name as you show me who I belong to.”
Carol smirks.
“I’ll be honest—I always knew you had a thing for me. You weren’t exactly discreet. The secret is, I had a thing for you too. I wasn’t expecting you to write about me in your notes, though. And I definitely wasn’t expecting you to write something like that ever. Our little teacher’s pet, our good little girl, the smartest girl in class—and such filthy thoughts! Didn’t take me long to figure out who the mysterious blonde figure was. You wrote some pretty explicit stuff in there, Princess. You’re such a filthy little whore... So many dirty thoughts! Imagine if those notes had fallen into the wrong hands...”
Carol’s hands dip to the edge of your sweater, swiftly pulling it off of your body. She cocks an eyebrow at you upon seeing the lacy navy blue bodysuit underneath that you’d specifically selected for tonight.
“Did you wear this just for me?”
You nod.
“Good girl. I like the way you think. Now, take off those pants for me. While you’re at it, get rid of that lacey little thing. It’s pretty, but you’re prettier.”
You obey her quickly, shedding every stitch of clothing from your body. You’re trembling with excitement and anticipation, and you’re nervous as Carol’s eyes rake up and down your body.
“Stunning,” she says, never taking her eyes off of your body. “You’re absolutely perfect. I can’t wait to teach you how to be a good little slut for me... you’re such a good learner. Wonder if that translates in the bedroom?”
You groan, rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you shut up and find out already?”
Carol laughs condescendingly.
“You sure you want to mouth off like that, Princess?”
You nod. “You seem to be all talk right now, and no action.”
Carol growls. “We can change that. I don’t tolerate brats around here. Brats get punished. If you’re a good girl, you get rewarded. Which is it going to be tonight, Princess. I need an answer.”
You roll your eyes without even thinking. “Just fuck me already, Carol.”
Carol tangles her hand in your hair, pulling your head back. “I told you that brats get punished. It looks like you've selected the brat role tonight. Get on your fucking hands and knees. I’m not going to ask you a second time.”
You quickly obey, scrambling onto your hands and knees. You wiggle your ass slightly, but Carol firmly holds it in place.
“Stop. Now, since this is your first time, I’m going to take it easy on you. We are only going to do ten, but mark my words, if you pull this sort of bratting on me again, I can and will increase that number. Now, I want you to count.”
The first strike comes faster than you were expecting, but it does not hurt as much as you thought it would.
“One,” you gasp out.
Carol strikes again, harder this time.
“Two,” you gasp out again.
He continues, hitting a bit harder each time, and your ass is red by the finish.
“Good girl,” she whispers in the shell of your ear. “You took your first punishment so well for me—it is almost like you were made to do this...”
She ghosts her fingers lightly over your neck, drifting down to your collarbone before moving her hands to gently massage the soft tissue of your breasts.
With a gentle slap to your aching ass, she gives you a new set of instructions.
“Now. For our next lesson, you’re going to suck me off. The better you do, the less edges I’ll give you tonight. I hope you’ve been studying, Princess. Either that, or you just better wish that this comes naturally for you.”
Carol swiftly pulls her pants and boxers down and throws her shirt to the side, revealing her toned abs and muscled back. You can see her muscles ripple as she stretches her arms above her head to take her shirt off. Your jaw goes slightly slack at the sight of her perfect nude figure.
“Close your mouth, Princess. You’ll catch flies.”
You blush. “Sorry, Carol. You’re just so beautiful.”
Carol winks. “I can tell, Princess. Your eyes haven’t left my torso.”
You giggle, but quickly stop when Carol moves directly in front of you.
“Test time, Princess. Hope you’ve studied. But, if you haven’t, I’ll allow for retakes. Think of this one as a pretext, if you will. How much do I need to teach you when it comes to this particular subject?”
You moan at her words, mouth salivating. You’re desperate to touch her, to run your tongue over her strap. Carol leans down to press a quick kiss upon your lips, immediately guiding your face to her strap after. You’re unsure of what to do at first, the feeling foreign upon your tongue. Eventually, you begin to find your rhythm, head bobbing as you introduce a hand to match your rhythm. You continue your tiny kitten licks, timing them with the thrust of your fingers. Carol is silent for the most part, but every so often she breaks her stoic silence with a loud moan or gasp when you hit a particularly sensitive spot against her body. You grind against the pillow that Carol has placed between your legs, annoyed with the lack of friction you got, but thankful to have anything at all. Your tongue continues its way along Carol’s strap, body quivering with pleasure.
It isn’t long before she’s moaning continuously.
After all, you have always been a very quick learner.
Carol pulls away, and you whimper at the loss of contact. She messily kisses you, groaning at the taste of herself on your tongue.
“For your first time, that was surprisingly good.”
You beam in satisfaction.
“However, I’m still going to edge you at least five times.”
You whimper.
“But Carol—“
“No buts, pretty girl. It’s for your own pleasure, alright? It’s good to practice delayed gratification. Now, get over there on the back of the bed for me. Spread those legs as wide as you can. I want that dripping cunt of yours on display.”
You move off of your pillow, following her instructions. Carol walks over to you, hovering over you on the bed as she cages your body with her arms.
“I want to hear every moan you make,” she growls. “Don’t hold back on me, Princess.”
You nod.
“Yes, Carol.”
Carol smiles and strokes a single finger through your dripping folds. You shudder. The feeling of her soft fingertips against your throbbing core is heavenly, and you’re unable to hide from the breathless moan that escapes your mouth.
Carol continues to slide her fingers through the folds of your cunt, relishing in the puffy texture as she explores. Her fingers trace small circles here and there, dipping into your soaking hole when she feels like doing so, pinching your clit, edging you into oblivion.
You ask her to cum numerous times, but she always pulls away. Finally, she pulls away for the last time.
“You can cum this time, Princess. But I want to cum on my cock for me like a good little slut, alright? I want you to scream my name for me. Let the whole world know you’re mine now.”
You nod, moaning at her filthy words. She carefully lines up with you and thrusts in quickly, giving you a chance to adjust to the size and foreign feeling of the cock inside of you.
When you nod at her, she begins to thrust her hips at an ungodly pace, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. She moves one hand to your clit, rubbing tight little circles over the throbbing organ, and her other hand moves to your throat, lightly pressing down. She’s pushing you into the mattress, firmly grinning the column of your neck as her hips thrust faster and faster.
“You like it when I choke you? When your brain starts to go a little bit foggy and you can’t tell if it’s from the sex or lack of air? You like it when I tell you what a good little slut you are, taking my cock like such a good little Princess, showing how well you learn and how well you take instruction?”
“Yes,” you manage to gasp out in between moans. “Please, fuck me harder.”
Although it seemed humanly impossible, Carol managed to fuck you harder. The relentless snap of her hips grew faster, thrusts hitting further and further inside of you each time. The hand rubbing your clit runs faster, harder, and just before you’re about to rip over the edge, Carol whispers in your ear.
“Cum for me, Princess. Cum like the good little girl you are.”
You scream out in ecstasy as you tip over the edge, collapsing against the mattress. Carol pulls out, falling into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you as she presses kisses to your neck and collarbone, drifting up to your forehead.
“You did so well, Princess. You’re such a good learner. Looks like you’re just as good in here as you are in a classroom.”
You smile.
“I try my best. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do.”
Carol smiles.
“A good attitude to have. Now, let’s go get you cleaned up.”
A few snacks, some water, and one blissful shower later, you’re dressed in Carol’s old sweatpants and sweatshirt as you climb into bed beside him. She’d invited you to stay the night, and you hadn’t been able to resist. Carol flips the lights off, pressing a delicate, featherlight kiss to your forehead.
As you lay in bed however, you remember an important fact.
“I still have to teach you all of literature,” you mumble.
Carol laughs softly.
“And I have many things to teach you still, darling. But for now, sleep.”
You smile, closing your eyes as you feel Carol’s grip on you grow stronger.
Frodo’s a nepo baby when you think about it but like for sucky things. That’s your uncle’s evil ring? That’s your uncle’s wizard that took you on an adventure? That’s your uncle’s feud with a homicidal gremlin man that’s after your uncle’s ring? Great
Shin Hati from Ahsoka ✰ inspired by these iconic lesbian posts (x x x) ✰ reminder that T*RFs can fuck off, if you reblog/like this you love trans & nb women ❤️
