#and certainly none that were very long. I’ve only seen a few one shots around

[itsthedoodle]

This Love Is Alive Back From The Dead

Summary: The last time Feyre and Rhys saw each other was senior year when she abruptly decided to end things between them. Ten years later, they meet again at their high school reunion.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: none

Read on AO3 from the beginning or continue with Chapter 2

@officialfeysandweek2023

Chapter 2

One day earlier

Rhys could not believe he was doing this. When Mor told him about the high school reunion and how it was going to be a revival of their prom, he had needed about four shots before he felt ready to unpack that plan and all its implications. Prom was part of the pile of thoughts he had shoved to the very back of his mind and absolutely refused to think about. 

He had promised Mor he would go, but with each mile closer to his hometown, the stitches of an old but still aching wound had started unraveling at a fast pace. 

Rhys was mature enough to admit he was nervous. The person responsible for that nervousness was the only one he’d ever loved, and he was also mature enough to admit he still loved her. 

He knew she hadn’t dated. There had never been anyone else. So why had she ended things with him?

He stepped through the door of his unsurprisingly empty childhood home, tossing the keys on the small table next to the spiral staircase. He didn’t bother calling his father—the man either never picked up or was always busy. The two of them had what one would consider a purely professional relationship, that of a CEO and CFO, and once Rhys took over as CEO, they would stop having a relationship altogether. 

His phone pinged, the screen lighting up with a message from Mor, asking him to meet in an hour. With no one to talk to and precious free time on his hands, he showered, dressed, grabbed his watch from where he had left it on the dresser, and stopped short in front of the middle drawer, where he put everything he didn’t want to see. 

The drawer of emotional baggage, as Mor liked to call it. 

He pulled it open, grabbing the only picture frame inside and turned it around. The faces staring back at him were full of love and joy, and unsuspecting of what was going to happen in just a few weeks. 

You were unsuspecting, said a small voice. She wasn’t. 

Shaking his head, he put the frame back inside, face down, and closed the drawer. He wasn’t ready to unpack that just yet. 

Heading to their meeting place, he saw Mor, sunglasses on, soaking the sun. Sunshine was the only way he could describe her, though she become vicious to protect what was hers. 

“Hey stranger,” she said, hugging him. “Long time no see.”

He raised an eyebrow, only turning his attention away from her to order a coffee. “You saw me yesterday.”

“That is an awfully long time. How did you manage to get through the last 24 hours without me?”

“By getting many things done, since I didn’t have you to annoy me.”

“Oh, Rhysie,” she pouted at him mockingly, lowering her sunglasses to give him her best impression of a hurt puppy. “You and I both know that is not true. Anyway, there is a reason I called you here.”

Rhys had been aware of that the moment she had messaged him. “Color me surprised.”

“So, you know how the reunion will be a revival of our prom, right? And everything has to be perfect.”

Rhys nodded. “Yes, the perfect part of it is an especially fitting revival of my experience with prom night.”

Mor conveniently chose to ignore him. “Yes, anyway, we need outfits.”

“Really? We need outfits? You want me to believe you waited until the day before to choose one?”

Waving him off, Mor went on. “There’s this new atelier I’ve seen with these amazing dresses, they’re so perfect you wouldn’t believe. Come with me? Please?”

He considered it for a second. He truly had nothing else to do with his time. He was not looking forward to locking himself home, and Az and Cass weren't going to arrive for another couple of hours. He certainly didn’t miss this town enough to go for a stroll. Nodding, he finished his coffee and paid for his and Mor’s drinks, tipping the waiter generously. 

An hour later, he found himself sitting on a brown chair, in an atelier decorated in every shade of cream known to mankind, with pops of earthy tones here and there.

Mor was twirling in front of a floor to ceiling mirror, examining her red gown. “What do you think?”

He thought he could feel an approaching headache but wisely kept that to himself. “I think you look beautiful-”

He never got to finish that sentence as the front door opened, revealing a man with long red hair tied in a low ponytail and a familiar pair of russet eyes. “Rhys?”

Rhys stood, smiling slightly. “Hello Lucien.”

Rhys and Lucien had shared the same space several times over the past few years but never went beyond a casual exchange of greetings. Rhys had known Lucien almost his entire life but wasn’t sure where they stood after what happened in high school. He had the feeling Lucien felt the same way. 

Lucien greeted Mor; Rhys wasn’t sure if they had met each other in the years since. Pleasantries and small talk were exchanged, Lucien helping Mor find a gown for the reunion and Mor in turn telling Lucien how Rhys didn’t have a proper suit for it. 

A total lie, of course. He had plenty of suits. He just didn’t have one fancy enough to meet Mor’s standards. He also wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of going to the reunion but wisely kept that to himself as well. 

“Oh yes. I have just the thing for Rhys.”

He looked at them at the sound of his name. “What?”

Mor grabbed his hand, following Lucien into the private area of the atelier and dragging him behind her.

“This is where I keep my one of a kind works. Things that are single pieces, sometimes inspired by certain people, the designs of which are shredded after they’re brought to life. Consider this a peek into my midnight creations.”

Mor looked like a child on Christmas Eve. “Holy shit Lucien, this is amazing.”

Lucien smiled at that. “Thank you. These two pieces are my last creations. We finished them yesterday. This,” he said, placing his hands on the sides of a mannequin, “screams your name, Rhys.”

The tuxedo he was looking at was a black so dark it looked depthless. It was easily the most beautiful piece of clothing he had seen, and he had grown up with Mor. The lapels were ever changing, depending on the angle you looked at the suit from—from the front, a shimmery black and from the sides, a striking silver. The same detail was applied to the bottom edge of the jacket and the edges of the sleeves. The pants were the same depthless black with black satin stripes, but without the silver lining. 

Next to the suit was a nearly translucent gray sleeveless gown bedecked in crystals, giving the appearance of a turtleneck while having a very revealing backside, and a high slit on the left side. Both pieces complimented each other in a way Rhys could not explain. 

Like the dress was the stars to the tuxedo’s night.

The words were out of his mouth before he could reconsider it. “I’m getting it.”

Lucien’s smile rivaled the Cheshire Cat. “It’ll be delivered to your place later today. Are you staying at the house?”

Rhys nodded. “It’s just for a day, and the house is empty anyway. Might as well put it to good use.”

Lucien nodded, then his expression turned thoughtful. “Rhys, there’s something you should know about Feyre.”

Rhys froze at the sound of her name. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard someone say it out loud, his friends walking on eggshells around him when it came to her. “What about her?” he asked cautiously.

Lucien grimaced. “You might want to sit down for this.”

He did as was told, making himself as comfortable as he could, all things considered. Mor did not look curious at all, and he filed away that bit of information to reassess it later. 

“So back when we were in high school, you got approached by several Ivys thanks to your perfect academic record. And we were all happy for you, Feyre more than anyone. But then she broke up with you, telling you that she didn’t see a future for the two of you after high school.”

“I remember,” he said, trying not to let his annoyance show. How could he forget?

“Well here’s the thing… Feyre did see a future after high school. She had always seen it, you were the love of her life, but one day she overheard you tell Cassian and Azriel that you were going to turn down every Ivy, that you would instead stay here, and go to community college with her. She could not accept that, refused to let you sacrifice your education and future and be tied down to her. So she broke up with you.”

Rhys had stopped breathing about three sentences ago. 

When he didn’t respond, Lucien continued, “You didn’t understand where it was coming from, so you didn’t give up, and so on prom night, Feyre came without a date. She knew you’d go to her, try and patch things up. So she called in a favor with Tamlin, aware of the animosity between the two of you, of course. And when she saw you approaching her, she kissed him, giving you the impression she was leaving you for him.”

The silence in his head was deafening, and had he been standing, he was sure his knees would have given out. “What are you saying?” he half whispered, scared of saying anything more. 

Lucien looked at him sympathetically. “I’m saying it was all a ruse, Rhys. Feyre wanted you out of this town, somewhere new, where you could get a proper education, where you wouldn’t be forced to spend the rest of your days with her and not experience the world outside this town.” He gestured around. “She never stopped loving you. She still loves you. And she will never forgive me for breaking her trust but I cannot keep quiet on this anymore. It’s not fair to either of you.”

Mor hadn’t uttered a single word so far, yet when Rhys looked at her, she didn’t seem surprised.  “You knew?” he said. 

“Yes.” She sighed. “Lucien and I met a couple of months ago when I walked in here, needing a dress. We sat down for lunch, we talked about life in general, then we talked about you and Feyre, and he told me the whole thing. That’s when we planned the reunion—Lucien has been planning it with me the whole time. But Rhys,” she said, grabbing his hand, “I couldn’t tell you, that had to come from Lucien.”

Rhys nodded, more on autopilot than anything else. “So what now?”

“Now it’s up to you.” Lucien said, smiling. “I will not tell Feyre we met. As far as she knows, we haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. She’ll come to the reunion tomorrow, and you can do with the truth as you see fit. But I’m done seeing her hate herself every moment of every day.”

Rhys nodded again, the only thing he could do at the moment. He did not know what to do with himself,  his thoughts, or his feelings. He paid for the tux, thanked Lucien, and headed home in a daze.

The moment he was back in his old bedroom again, he opened the drawer and pulled the picture frame from earlier, looking at his younger self and Feyre. He had his arms wrapped around her from behind, his chin resting on her head. Feyre’s smile was contagious, her eyes bright with the kind of starlight that had made him fall in love with her in the first place. 

Years. They had lost years because she had made a decision alone for both of them, had thought she knew what it was he needed and wanted. He had only ever wanted her. He didn’t know which emotion to feel first—he was angry she had taken this from them, disappointed she had not trusted him to know what he was doing, relieved she still loved him. His beautiful, stubborn girl had put him above her own feelings and needs, wrecking not only him but also herself in the process. 

There was a new ache in his heart, born of heartbreak and something else, something he recognized as very fragile hope. She still loved him, and God knew he had never stopped loving her. But would that be enough to put the past ten years behind them and start over?

Smiling fondly at the happy teenagers they had been, he decided the frame was not going to go to the drawer of emotional baggage anymore. He found a spot on his dresser and placed the frame there, a reminder of what they could have if he survived the anxiety that had been tormenting him for the past several hours. 

He could only hope this didn’t backfire on him. 

He arrived with Mor the next day, already finding a small group of people present. Mor—and he guessed Lucien—had decided the party was going to be held at their high school’s gym, where the original prom had been. 

It was weird being back. Everything reminded him of Feyre, the places they had laughed, the ones where they had kissed a hundred times, the ones where they had fucked each other senseless, the places where they’d made so many plans for the future. He was trying to keep an open mind. Feyre would come, he would see her, approach her, gently start small talk with her, stilted as that was going to be, and then he’d tell her he knew her secret. 

He felt like he was going to be sick. 

“Relax,” Mor whispered next to him. “She’ll come, and you’ll talk, and then you’ll see where that takes you. One step at a time. I’ll approach her first and then you can gently ease your way into the conversation.”

He nodded, physically present but mentally elsewhere. 

He hadn’t told Cass and Az yet. He needed to talk to Feyre first before he told anyone else. Needed to hear her side of the story, and where her mind had been at when she stole a decision from him. 

“She’s here.”

He nodded, hearing Mor leave and resisting the urge to look in their direction, lest his feet start walking of their own accord and take him to Feyre. He counted to one hundred, then repeated the process one more time before taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and turning around. 

What he saw took his breath away, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss or kill Lucien. 

Feyre was wearing the dress from Lucien’s private collection, the one he had looked at and admired the previous day, the one next to his tuxedo. 

The stars to his night. 

He took in the expanse of her back, the back of the dress open to the base of her spine, dimples showing. He took in her arms, arms that had previously been too thin and were now toned. She wasn’t skinny and malnourished anymore. The person standing a few feet away from him was healthy, clearly worked out regularly, and had sunkissed skin. 

He cleared out his mind, repeating his personal mantra for the day. 

Be normal. Don’t freak out. It will be okay. 

He caught the end of their conversation about her dress and added “One of a kind, if Lucien is to be believed. Inspired by the very person wearing it.” 

He saw her freeze, taking small breaths she thought no one could notice. 

“Hello, Feyre darling.”

He could mentally kick himself for using his old term of endearment, knowing it probably brought back too many memories, but at the moment he also couldn’t give a fuck. 

Mor said something about him being dramatic but Rhys wasn’t listening. He could smell Feyre from the small distance between them, and the familiarity of the scent left a lump in his throat. She had always smelled of lilac. 

She turned around, her gray blue eyes meeting his, sparkling like stars, but with a faint something else that he couldn’t place, like melancholy but not quite. 

Her eyes felt like coming home. 

He catalogued every detail, every inch of her, starting from the way her hair spilled down in curls, to the red lips that made him want to kiss her, to the dress, to that damned dress, clinging to her so perfectly, like it was made for her and only her, which he supposed it was. 

Lucien, that sly fox, had known exactly what he was doing when he sold Rhys that tuxedo yesterday. 

His eyes traveled down, down to that slit, her long leg showing. He shoved down his rising lust, more than aware the chances of anything happening tonight were slim to none. 

Despite everything, looking at her now, he knew he loved her still, with the kind of madness that threatened to consume him entirely. 

He tried to make small talk, but all he could think of was the last time he had freely touched her, held her. She was nervous, he could tell. He could still read her like an open book. 

Could she hear his heart pounding, threatening to leap out of his chest, just so it could run to hers? Could she see how she still affected him, with her eyes, and the hair he longed to touch, and that stupid dress that had been brought to life just for her.

She asked him if he had come alone, and just because there was a part of him that needed to see that she still cared, he said “No.”

Her answer came simply in the form of an “Oh” so small and quiet he would have missed it had he not been attuned to her voice. Oddly happy to see her so obviously upset, he quickly put her out of her misery by telling her he came with his friends. 

Unexpectedly, she blurted “I’m sorry but why are you being so friendly to me? We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

He cocked his head to one side. So they were doing this? Alright then . He tried to come up with the most neutral answer he could think of. “We’re adults. I thought we could both put the past behind us, especially one with a plan as well thought out as yours.”

Feyre blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He smirked, and she looked like she was… relieved? Like the idea of him smirking was something she took great comfort in. “That little plan of yours back when we were eighteen. Break up with me and have me catch you kissing Tamlin.”

She paled, her face losing several shades of color, and for a moment he thought she was going to be sick. Perhaps being direct had been the wrong move.

“Rhys, I-”

“To be fair, I’m mad at you,” he said, interrupting her. “Livid doesn’t even begin to describe it. But I’m trying to think rationally here and give you the benefit of the doubt. So, Feyre. We need to talk.”

#feysandweek2023 #feysand #feyre #feyre archeron #rhysand #rhys #pro feyre #pro rhys #pro feysand #this love is alive back from the dead #feysand fanfic #feysand fic #acotar #modern au

[orcelito]

FUCK oh my god I just got an amazing idea. Fucking Galaxy Brain. Another monster fic, but probably a lot simpler to write. Since it’d be following a lot of the game’s setup and plot, there’d b a lot less uh...... effort.

Honestly maybe it’d be good to do this one first? Fantasy au is my baby, even tho I haven’t written a single word of it yet lol, so I don’t intend to abandon it. But definitely a lot of why I haven’t done anything with it yet is Bc I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking about setup and plot and characters and where everyone will be and what I want to accomplish and like So many things. It’s the game’s characters and general vibes set up in an entirely different place and time and story. Which is smth I wanna do, Bc I don’t want to just do the same story as everyone else, but a little bit to the left. I want something that’s MINE. Something that leaves an impression. Something relatively original.

But that originality takes a Lot of effort. So....... maybe I should dip my toes into this whole writing thing with something . Easier.

#speculation nation #jfncnnfnf the idea is a soulmate au WHICH #is super cliche and can easily be bleh . but I’m a fuckin sucker for them. smh #I was thinking the like. thing with writing showing up on the soulmate’s skin thing #Bc that avoids the pitfalls of the trope where like. they meet and everything just slots into place Bc that’s how it’s supposed to be #it’d be based on a general compatibility. coupled with the fact that they’ve had contact for basically their entire life #except there will be DRAMA and HURT FEELINGS and all that business just by virtue of like....... ya kno....... akechi #yes it’d b akeshu what fuckin else would it be lmao #they’re essentially soulmates in canon. two sides of the same coin. complimentary personalities. #it just WORKS ok. #anyways yes it’s not the most original but tbh I haven’t seen many soulmate au fics in p5 fandom #and certainly none that were very long. I’ve only seen a few one shots around #well now I want to be the one to write the long one. while hopefully making things interesting and fun #hmmhmhm I already have in mind how I want to start it. yes. #yea I’ll probably do it within Royal canon. just cause I think I’d like to have Sumire around #man tho I’ll have to figure out what everyone else is gonna have WHICH honestly thinking about it is not a hard choice at all #call me a normie or whatever but I like the fandom favs #like mako/haru of COURSE. and Ann/shiho. and I like ryuji/yusuke. And futaba/sumire #it’d all b background so I’ll just like......... idk. sub-tag. or smth. #I hate when ppl tag ships that have barely any screen time. like damn stfu. #if ur searching for that minor pairing and everything up front is just the big popular pairing with just a tiny bit of the thing u want #it’s annoying!!! and not smth I’m dealing with rn Bc lmao akeshu is a fandom favorite. #but I don’t wanna subject others to that. I will not. u_u #maybe I should do google docs or smth so I can just write on my phone #since I haven’t rly been going on my computer that much..... makes it harder to get around to writing #aaaaaa okay I’ve got some game plans. and hopefully filling my life with writing will fill up that fanfic shaped hole in my life #when I can’t find things that satisfy my specific wishes. I will have to MAKE them.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine the Ember Island Players creating a romance between you and Zuko which hits a little too close to home

You sat beside Katara and noticed how Zuko sat on the other side of her. Aang faltered, obviously wanting to sit there and you smirked as Zuko obliviously missed Aang’s look. Zuko had been with the group a few weeks now but his social skills still weren’t very good and you found it made for some very interesting interactions. His attempt at telling jokes alone made you smile every time you saw him for a full week afterwards and you found Zuko did a lot of things that amused you but apparently not so much the others. “I was going to sit there” Aang whined and Zuko shrugged “so? Just sit next to me”. Aang pouted and you laughed to yourself “here” you said standing up “take my seat Aang” and you moved so he could sit beside Katara. Katara was oblivious and you sat on the other side of Zuko chuckling at Aang’s blush. “What was that all about?” Zuko asked and you smiled “ow nothing you just almost ruined Aang’s evening”. Zuko frowned and went to ask what you meant when the lights dimmed so you knocked his arm shaking your head “i’ll tell you later now shhh”. Zuko folded his arm huffily but stopped talking. The play was wonderfully awful. As you hadn’t joined the gang straight away you knew you had time to just enjoy the first few acts and make fun of the way they portrayed all your friends. Plus what could they do to your character? You didn’t have any old flames like Katara or Sokka and you didn’t have an emotional backstory like Zuko or Aang. So you relaxed arms spread over the back of the bench and waited for *yourself* to make an appearance.

The second your actress walked on stage you knew it wouldn’t be good. They had your character all wrong! Your actress flirted with everyone and acted like a lovesick idiot. You didn’t think it could get much worse and then your character met Zuko’s.

“I’ll save you from the pirates” Zuko’s character purred to yours and you spluttered. “That...that wasn’t even me! That was Katara!” you whispered angrily. You looked to Zuko for confirmation who nodded “yeah I didn’t say that to you...and I certainly didn’t tie you up while staring at you like that”. “And I did not flirt with you like that either”. You both glared as your characters bonded and they actually invented Zuko letting you go voluntarily. As Zuko’s character stared off into the distance and said your name you heard Sokka and Suki wheezing from laughter while you simmered with anger and embarrassment. “I didn’t do that!” Zuko cried and you saw he was blushing vividly. That made you blush too and crossed your arms tightly “they better not stick with this theme”.

Of course they did. By the time act 3 had ended you and Zuko were living a star crossed lovers lifestyle in Ba Sing Sei. They again got you mixed up with Katara and said Azula kidnapped you to lure Zuko to the Earth King’s palace. The act ended with Zuko charging in to save you, offering his own life in exchange for yours, but Azula outmanoeuvred him and arrested him too. As the lights went up for intermission you and Zuko paused before exploding.

“That never even happened!”.

“I knew he was in Ba Sing Sei but we never went on a date”.

“Yeah that was a different girl”.

“And you did not fight with Jet over me”.

“I didn’t even know you knew Jet!” Zuko agreed and you both paused for air.

The gang all looked at each other before bursting into laughter. “What is so funny?” you cried and Sokka smiled. “We all know none of that stuff happened, we were there too remember?”. “Yeah so...can’t we rant?” you asked. “Well yeah but why get so mad about it? Are you trying to convince us or yourselves that the idea the two you flirted is so impossible?”. You and Zuko exploded again at the thought and Sokka and the others burst into laughter again. “All i’m saying is this is a lot of emotion to come from nowhere” Sokka smiled “now i’m going backstage so yell at each other or something” and he disappeared with Suki. Katara and Toph left for snacks and Aang went to the toilet leaving the two of you alone. “But i mean it is ridiculous” you muttered and Zuko nodded “utterly ridiculous”. “Sure we ended up together a few times” you shrugged “but that was completely by chance, it wasn’t like you were hyper-aware of me or vice versa”. “Yeah not at all” Zuko agreed but he wasn’t looking you in the eye for some reason. You stared at him confused and noticed his neck looked slightly red as if he was blushing. “Wait did you?” you asked suddenly “notice me more?”. Zuko looked up and he was indeed blushing deeply “what I....of course not! I never...I mean I did learn your name before anyone else’s but that’s because we spent that time together when I helped the pirates kidnap you and you wouldn’t shut up the whole night”. “Then why are you blushing so much?” you asked and Zuko shrugged “I don’t know I...it’s just them insinuating I like you. I’ve had it a lot”. “You have?” you asked amazed and Zuko nodded “when my uncle heard you’d seen me in Ba Sing Sei and that we’d reached a deal not to tell on one another he had this annoying smirk like i’d done it for any other reason besides the fact it was mutually beneficial. Then when I went back home Azula made it seem like me and you had a thing and Mai got jealous and started asking about you and I had to explain all our interactions and it was very awkward...she wanted me to reassure her by putting you down and making the idea seem impossible but I must have failed because she didn’t believe me. So I guess that’s why it makes me feel weird, everyone keeps telling me I act differently with you and I suppose I do but I have no idea if that’s because everyone keeps saying it or if I always have”. You nodded your head but were unsure what to say. “Well which one do you think it is?” you asked eventually and Zuko paused “what?”. “If you had to guess, would you say you act differently around me because of what people say about us or have you just always acted that way”. Zuko thought, staring at the ground and basically anywhere but at you, “i’m not sure but I guess maybe the second? They must have got it from somewhere I suppose”. “The second?” you asked surprised and Zuko’s blush returned vividly “I’m only guessing, I honestly don’t know”. You nodded your head and went to speak when the others returned which stopped you right in your tracks.  

The second half of the play began of course with you and Zuko reuniting in the prison under Ba Sing Sei. You and Zuko did end up there together but you definitely did less staring at one another. You rolled your eyes as your characters began to passionately speak to one another stepping closer and closer. They finally reached one another and you laughed when your character began yelling at Zuko’s. “Ha maybe they got some things right!” you whispered to Zuko who nodded “you did yell at me a lot”. You smirked and went to apologise when Zuko’s character kissed yours. You and Zuko abruptly shot away from each other. “That is not even close to what happened!” you cried at the others who were all laughing. Zuko nodded “this is just slander! They didn’t even bother to try to get our characters right and anyone with half a brain would realise that!”. Someone shushed Zuko and he glared “shush yourself” he cried before storming from the room. He didn’t return for the rest of the play and honestly you thought that was probably wise. It got worse and worse. They still kept in Zuko’s betrayal of Iroh but changed it making you at the centre of Zuko’s struggle. He chose the crown and they made you react dramatically (even getting a love ballad moment). They then skipped forwards to Zuko at the palace, who got his own song when he realised he’d made the wrong choice. Your characters reunited not long after and promptly confessed their love for one another. Then you were both murdered by Ozai very much in line with the tragic forbidden lovers style.

“I mean I’m just glad she’s dead” you shrugged on your way out “anything to end that romance”. The others smirked when Aang paused “do you think Zuko went back home to the villa?” looking around for the angry fire prince. “No he knows we don’t know this place well, he’s probably just sat outside somewhere” you replied looking around but you couldn’t see him brooding anywhere either. When you walked out the front door and still didn’t spot him Aang frowned “okay everyone split up and look for him, meet back here in five minutes”.

You returned five minutes later to see Katara, Suki, Sokka and Toph all hadn’t found him either. “I wonder where he is” Katara frowned and you shrugged “he’ll be fine, that boy has nine lives”. “He didn’t in that play” Toph commented and you nodded. “True but that play was a mess and there’s one thing I still can’t get over. Zuko said his family and friends thought he liked me that’s where his side of this rumour started but in the play they acted like I encouraged him! Where on earth did they get that idea?”. The group all went quiet and you paused “what?”. “Well...I mean you kinda do encourage him” Sokka frowned and your jaw dropped “I DO NOT! When have I ever...”. “When we got kidnapped by the pirates you teased Zuko constantly and refused to be quiet until he spoke to you” Katara pointed out. “Yes but that was to annoy him not flirt with him!”. “Okay how about when June asked if you were his girlfriend and you replied he wishes instead of no?”. “I was joking” you shrugged and Toph smirked “or how about when I was sneaking out to see Zuko at the Western Air Temple and found you already on your way to see him? What were you popping in to see Zuko for huh y/n? Nice date by the campfire?”. “I was doing the same thing as you! I was going to see if he would tell the truth and given that I knew him best I thought I....”. The gang all erupted and you paused “what?”. “You know him best?” Sokka asked smirking and you nodded “that doesn’t mean anything it’s a fact”. “Ow is it?” Sokka asked and you nodded “It is! Fine if I don’t know him best what was his fake name in Ba Sing Sei?”. Everyone went quiet and you nodded “or how about how long ago he was banished from the fire nation? Better yet just tell me his parent’s names!” you cried. When nobody replied you smirked folding your arms victoriously “told you I know him best”. “Yeah you’ve definitely proved how much you know about Zuko” Suki smirked looking past you. You frowned before you heard someone behind you. You turned to see Aang had found Zuko and by the look on his face he’d heard everything. You blushed and looked down “Zuko we were...”. “Having a competition to see who knows me best?” Zuko asked mildly amused and you paused “well sort of...Sokka started it”. “No I didn’t” Sokka retorted “you declared you knew Zuko the best and when I asked if you were sure you started spouting your favourite facts about him”. “They’re not my favourite facts about him” you snapped and Sokka’s smirk just grew “whatever y/n” and he turned leading the way home. The others all followed and purposefully made it so you and Zuko were at the back. “Why were you talking about me anyway?” Zuko asked and you paused “ow nothing I was just er...trying to work out why the Ember Island Players thought I had a thing for you but the gang was not helpful”. “They couldn’t think of a reason?” Zuko asked innocently and you frowned “no they could actually think of lots of reasons, it appears similar to your family they were also under the impression I held a flame for you as it were”. “Ow really?” Zuko asked. He kept his voice flat but you could swear he was smirking slightly. “Stop enjoying this” you whined pushing him “it’s not funny, it’s embarrassing”. “Liking me is embarrassing?” Zuko asked and you paused “no I didn’t mean that, I just meant having all your friends claim you like someone when you can’t see it”. “You really can’t see where they’re coming from?” Zuko asked and you shook your head “nope not at all”. Zuko looked away and you frowned “I saw that, what did that look mean?”. “Nothing...” Zuko trailed off but you sighed grabbing him by the arm to make him look at you “I’m sick of everyone saying things about me for once just say it to my face!”. Zuko sighed “fine, I just think i’ve been honest with you but you’re not being honest with yourself”. “Not being honest?”. Zuko nodded “Yes, I admitted I could see where my family were coming from and how the rumours started but you’re acting as if they plucked them out of thin air!”. “Well maybe they did! I don’t see how any of our interactions could be interpreted as romantic”. Zuko didn’t look convinced. “You don’t think there’s some truth to what the Ember Island Players said? That maybe there is something here?” Zuko asked gesturing to the small gap between you. “No of course not! Do you?”. “No” Zuko yelled back and you nodded “fine! You are the most infuriating...” you started when Zuko grabbed you kissing you. You initially tensed at the sensation but soon melted into it. Zuko seemed to be trying to prove a point by kissing you passionately and not wanting him to win you kissed him back matching his intensity. Finally Zuko pulled away for air and stared at you “still not want to admit there’s something here?”. You stared at Zuko torn between admitting he was right and your pride. You were annoyed, frustrated, excited and exhilarated all at once. You were breathing rapidly, your cheeks bright red as were Zuko’s and neither of you made to move away. “I...” you started eventually “that was a good kiss”. Zuko nodded, his frustration melting away “it was, I enjoyed it...I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to kiss you for a while now”. “You have?” you asked and Zuko nodded “as annoying as it is to admit my family and friends were right, I like you and I have for a while”. You smiled despite yourself at how adorable Zuko looked all bashful and embarrassed. “I tried ignoring it for a while but then when I joined the group your friends all saw it straight away. Then tonight...the play was bad but I was frustrated that everyone seemed to see it apart from you the person I actually wanted to see it...you”. You looked down wondering how to reply “I’m sorry I bet that was really frustrating”. Zuko nodded “It was and I figured this was just one-sided but that...did you feel it too?”. Zuko looked so unsure and unlike himself it was endearing and gave you confidence. “Yes” you said shakily “after that kiss I can tell you it is definitely not one-sided. I like you too Zuko and probably have since the start”. “Probably?” Zuko asked and you sighed “I’m not good with my emotions, I can be oblivious to them so I can’t with certainty tell you it’s been going on as long as the play made it out to be but I know I like you. Right now in this moment...I hope that’s enough, I know it’s a shit confession and you probably wanted something more solid but I...”. Zuko began laughing and you paused “what’s so funny?”. “Something more solid? Y/n I’m on the run from the Firelord who is my father, my sister is hunting me to kill me and I could very likely be imprisoned for the rest of my life if Aang fails and that’s if i’m lucky...I’m not even sure if I have a future so trust me all I need is the present. To know in this moment right here you like me back” Zuko blushed but he stepped closer and took your hands “that’s more than enough for me”. “It is?” you asked and Zuko nodded “yes and if by some chance it becomes more long-term I’ll be very happy but for now I just want to enjoy this time with you”. You smiled and leant in to kiss Zuko again when someone coughed. “Hey what are you two doing?” Sokka called. Apparently the others had finally realised the two of you were no longer with the group and walked back to find the two of you as you currently were. Luckily it was dark so you moved away from Zuko but still held his hand. “Yeah we thought you’d gotten lost are you okay?” Katara called. Zuko sighed and you smirked at his expression. “We’re fine” you smiled “we were just talking and Zuko’s going to show me this beach he went to a lot as a kid”. Zuko’s eyes shot up to yours and he smiled. “You are?” Aang asked and Zuko nodded “yep, it’s not far from here so we won’t be long. You guys head back to the villa and we’ll meet you there” and with that Zuko tugged you away from the others. You smiled at Zuko and he smiled back at you “quick thinking, I didn’t think we’d get out of there so easily”. “You can thank me later” you replied when you heard Sokka gasp “wait are they holding hands? Y/n are you holding hands?”. “Run!” Zuko cried and you laughed but did as he said. You kept running even after Sokka’s voice trailed off and only stopped when you reached a sandy beach. You both collapsed on the ground and you turned to look at Zuko “did you know this was here or did you get lucky?”. “Totally the former” he smiled and you shook your head “you’re lucky I like you”. “I really am” Zuko agreed and he stared at your face tenderly. His fingers brushed your cheek and you smiled “what are you waiting for?”. “I have no idea” Zuko admitted and he leant in to reclaim the lost kiss from earlier. This time you weren’t interrupted.

#zuko #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender imagine #atla #atla imagine #atla zuko #prine zuko #prince zuko x reader #ember islands #fire nation #aang #sokka #katara #suki #toph #prince zuko #azula #ozai #iroh #mai #avatar zuko #avatar ember island players

[chilucult]

posting my chiluc smut here first bc I don't have an ao3 account (yet)! will post the ao3 link once I get an account and get it posted.

again, this is smut, minors begone.

also, this is my first fic ever, so feel free to roast me.

another warning, this is long (~10k words)

fic under the cut!

The Fatui Harbinger had been coming to the Angel’s Share for the past few nights. He called himself “Childe”. Diluc was not very fond of him, what with him being with the Fatui and all, but he was a paying customer, so Diluc treated him as he did every other patron. Diluc just wished this Childe guy would treat him like every other bartender.

“Can I get another shot? Pretty please, oh pretty barkeep?” Ajax batted his eyes at Diluc, noticing the man give a slight eye roll before he began to pour the Harbinger his requested shot.

Ajax had been trying to get the attention of this particular bartender for some nights now. When he had first entered the Angel’s Share tavern, his sight had tunnel-visioned on the entrancing man behind the bar with fiery red hair. Ajax knew he had to have him. The bartender, Diluc, his name tag read, was not as perceptive to Ajax’s advances as he had hoped he would be.

Diluc set down the shot he had ordered in front of him, jerking him out of his musings. “Would you like me to add this to your tab, sir?” Diluc asked him, all business. Oh, but Ajax would never tire of hearing the man’s voice, wanting to hear how it sounded when it was screaming his name.

Ajax cocked his head to the side to appreciate the view from a different angle. “Yes, please; and like I said, call me Childe.” He tried not to get discouraged when he saw Diluc scoff a bit. “Actually, you can call me anything you like,” he shot back with a wink.

Diluc only scoffed again, wiping down a glass from another customer. “I’m not going to call you by some made-up name. ‘Childe’ is ridiculous, anyway,” he explained, choosing to ignore the wink the Fatui man had sent him.

Ajax downed his shot easily, smirking slightly at Diluc’s raised eyebrow. “I told you that you could call me anything you want. Although, I certainly didn’t mind ‘sir’ either, if that’s what you’re into,” Ajax all but purred, his eyes half lidded in intent.

Diluc chuckled a bit sarcastically at that. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he shot back, only resorting to responding in such a manner because the Harbinger was pushing his buttons.

Ajax leaned forward on the bar, getting closer to the man of his desires. “Oh I would absolutely love to know just exactly what you’re into,” he whispered darkly, knowing that Diluc could still hear his every word. Ajax mentally pumped his fist when he saw Diluc inhale sharply at that.

Diluc narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. “Are you... flirting with me?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

Ajax’s eyes widened at the question before he sat back on his barstool with a laugh. “‘Am I flirting with you?’! Um, yeah, actually, have been for the past few days,” he laughs again, thinking it absurd that it took Diluc this long to figure out. “But thanks for noticing, I guess.” He still shook his head to himself, wondering if he had lost his flirting skills or if Diluc was just particularly dense.

Diluc felt his cheeks start to heat up, and quickly turned his back to the Harbinger. The Harbinger that was flirting with him. Diluc couldn’t understand why. The man was clearly out of Diluc’s league, surely he hadn’t missed all the other patrons in the tavern staring at him, had he? So, as he fiddled with empty glasses, wiping them down just to have something to occupy his hands with, he softly asked, “Why?”

Ajax tore his eyes from where he was blatantly staring at Diluc’s ass to meet the man’s hesitant eyes looking over his shoulder. “Why? Are you kidding me? You’re kidding right?” Diluc broke their eye contact, shyly looking down at the floor, which was not what Ajax wanted. “I don’t think we have time to cover my entire list of reasons, Red.” Diluc looked back at him questioningly, both at the nickname and the statement.

“You just look so... breathtaking.” Diluc turned back around to face Ajax, but couldn’t meet his eyes just yet. “Since I first saw you a few nights ago, I knew I just had to have you. I wanna know how beautiful you look when you let your hair down, what kinds of noises you’ll make when I pull on it. Wanna know how you sound after I’ve broken you, how you’ll look after I’ve made a mess of you,” Ajax murmured, slowly standing from his stool and crowding into Diluc as much as he could with the bar between them. He smirked victoriously when he saw Diluc breathing a bit heavier, his cheeks flushed a bright pink.

A loud clang from somewhere in the tavern jolted them apart, someone probably having knocked over their drink. Diluc’s eyes darted about the place, hoping no one had seen them just now. “Oh my- gods, you can’t say stuff like that here, I’m working,” he seethed, attempting to convey his annoyance, but knowing the Harbinger could probably see right through him.

“Not here?” Ajax repeated, a feral grin beginning to grow on his face. “So I could do it, say, in your bedroom?” He asked suggestively.

Diluc couldn’t deny his attraction to the Fatui man. He was hot, what could Diluc say? He had just never thought the man would be interested in him, but he had clearly been wrong. Plus, the things that he had been talking about did sound rather enticing...

He lowered his voice, praying to the gods that none of the other patrons in the tavern could hear what he was saying. “If I say yes, will you quit... teasing me for the rest of my shift?”

Ajax pulled away a bit, suddenly serious. “Hey now, don’t make it sound like I’m forcing you. If you really want me to cut it out and leave, just say the word and I’ll be gone.” He couldn’t stop the small smirk from gracing his lips as he said his next words. “But something tells me that you really don’t want me to stop.”

Diluc flushed, averting his eyes once again. “Do you think I would even consider going home with you if I didn’t want it?” He whispered, embarrassed to have to admit his desires, but also wanting to make his intentions clear.

Ajax grinned wickedly. “Perfect,” he purred. “So when do you get off work, Red?”

Diluc pouted slightly at the nickname before he glanced at the clock on the wall. “In... a little less than an hour. Think you can be patient for that long?”

“If I get to take you home? I’d wait forever,” Ajax grinned easily. He could see Diluc’s cheeks redden, but could also see the weak glare the man sent his way. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to work in peace.”

For the next hour, Diluc tried to carry on with his work normally, he really tried. Yet, he found it impossible to ignore the stirring of emotions in his gut. He was excited for the night ahead, yes, but there was also nervousness and anxiety eating away at him. He knew he wasn’t the most... experienced person out there. He had only ever slept with one girl years ago, finding it not to his liking. He had never even been with a man (unless you count that one guy he made out with a few years back). He hoped his inexperience wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for the man.

He also found it hard to ignore the presence of the Harbinger. He had kept his word, not making any more moves at Diluc, but Diluc couldn’t shake the feeling of the other man’s eyes tracking his every movement. Every so often when Diluc would sneak a peek at him, he would find the Harbinger shamelessly staring at him, eyes roaming over his body slowly, hungrily. He couldn’t help the flush in his cheeks, nor the way he fidgeted self-consciously with his apron.

When Charles came to finally relieve Diluc of his bartending duties, he could see the clear excitement in the Harbinger’s eyes. Diluc took off his apron, leaning in close to the man to whisper, “Meet me out back.” He almost laughed at the way the man bolted from his seat.

Ajax was waiting patiently behind the tavern for only a few minutes before the fiery redhead made his appearance. “So, where to, Red?” His lips twitched into a small smile as they began walking, noticing that Diluc was just slightly shorter than him.

Diluc grumbled to himself, “Since you’ve been coming to the tavern for days, I would’ve hoped you’d bother to read my name tag once.” He continued when the man beside him chuckled, nodding his head in the direction of the city gates. “The manor is a bit outside the city, hope you don’t mind a bit of a walk.”

Ajax cut himself off from the smooth retort of I’d walk to the ends of the earth to get you into bed with me to look at Diluc inquisitively. “Wait... manor?”

Diluc went on to explain that he owned the winery in Mondstadt, as well as the large manor house that was on the property. He also mentioned that he owned the tavern they were just at, internally preening at the impressed look on the Harbinger’s face.

After that, a silence fell between the two as they walked. Diluc didn’t seem to be one to make small talk much, and Ajax was perfectly fine just taking in the scenery, not feeling the need to run his mouth for once. It was comfortable.

Diluc was infinitely glad that he dismissed his house staff early each night, comforted by the fact that there would be no interruptions. As soon as he walked through the front door, his back was being shoved against the hard wood, the gasp he let out being swallowed by the incessant lips capturing his own. His eyes fell closed as he was kissed breathless against the door, a gloved hand gripping his hip and pinning him in place. Diluc slowly raised a hand to rest on the man’s shoulder as his mouth was invaded by the other’s tongue.

Diluc ripped his head back once the Harbinger gave him room to breathe. “H-hold on,” he panted, tilting his head slightly as the man hummed against the skin of his jaw in response. “I have... two things. F-first,” he stuttered out as the skin beneath his jaw was nipped lightly. “You need to tell me your name. I- I’m not calling you Childe.” His eyebrows furrowed in distaste at the name, even while his eyes slipped shut once again from the soft kisses being left on his neck.

Ajax chuckled against the skin of Diluc’s neck. He peppered light kisses across the skin of his jaw, making his way to the other’s ear, where he whispered, “It’s Ajax. Please do remember it, I want to hear you screaming it for me tonight.” He nipped at the skin just below Diluc’s ear, smirking at the way the man shivered slightly.

Diluc nodded absently, mouthing the name Ajax to see how it felt on his lips. He let his head fall back against the door as the man- Ajax- continued a trail down his throat. He hummed in content as his lips were captured in a searing kiss once again, only to have the noise turn into a weak whine as Ajax pulled away much sooner than Diluc would have liked.

“Didn’t you have another thing to say, baby?” Ajax questioned, reveling in the hitch in Diluc’s breath at the use of the pet name. Once his words registered with Diluc, he could notice the other man’s demeanor change, suddenly shy. His cheeks were flushed more in embarrassment than arousal, and his hand was nervously fidgeting with the clothes on Ajax’s shoulder. Ajax pulled himself back a bit, trying to give Diluc more room to get out whatever it was that he wanted to say.

“I- I’ve never... I mean, with a, uh, guy, at least... I’ve never, um... done... this,” he stammered out weakly, his words trailing off at the end. Diluc couldn’t bring himself to meet Ajax’s eyes, but he doubted he would’ve been able to read any expression on his face.

There was a moment's pause before Diluc heard Ajax ask, “Do you want to stop?” If there was any judgement in his voice, Diluc certainly couldn’t find it.

If Diluc thought he couldn’t get any more embarrassed than he already was, he was wrong. He internally cringed at how quick he was to respond. “No. No. I want... this. I just... thought you should, uh, know,” he finished weakly. He was emboldened, encouraged to continue by the soft smile on Ajax’s face. “Besides... you still need to follow through with your words,” he taunted, choosing to ignore the flush on his cheeks at the reminder of Ajax’s filthy promises.

The soft grin of Ajax’s face turned sharp as he crowded Diluc against the door once again. He buried his face into the side of the man’s neck, leaving a bite there before whispering against the skin, “Oh, baby. I’m gonna make it so good for you.” He reached down the grab Diluc’s thigh, using the grip he had on his hip with his other hand to lift the redhead, properly pinning him against the door. He smirked at the gasp Diluc let out, the way his legs scrambled to wrap around his waist.

Diluc was thriving. His head was tilted back against the door, his eyes slipped shut in pleasure. Diluc knew he was a large man, his muscles built well and even a bit bulky in some areas. So the way in which Ajax easily lifted him off the ground and was still supporting his weight against the door, was a bit shocking to Diluc. And, apparently, quite the turn on, if the rapid hardening in his pants was anything to go by. Diluc was glad that his long coat was still on, covering what had to be an obvious tent in his pants. He was embarrassed to be so turned on by just a little making out, but perhaps it was just the effect that Ajax had on him.

Ajax continued leaving a trail of bite marks down Diluc’s throat, encouraged by the way Diluc would tilt his head to the side, offering Ajax a larger expanse of skin to mark. “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he muttered into Diluc’s skin darkly. He bit down at a spot at the base of Diluc’s throat rasher harshly, leaving his lips on the skin to suck on the mark, ensuring it would leave a nice bruise. He glanced up at the sound of a muffled whimper to see Diluc biting his bottom lip, no doubt in an attempt to keep his noises at bay.

Ajax let go of his hip, bringing his hand up to thumb at Diluc’s lower lip, urging him to release it from between his teeth. Diluc complied easily, his eyes slipping open when Ajax tutted at him. “Nuh uh, let me hear you, baby. I wanna hear all the beautiful noises you can make,” he smirked slightly at the small whimper that escaped from Diluc’s lips. “Let me hear how good I make you feel,” he finished with a whisper.

Diluc’s hands flew to the back of Ajax’s head, gripping his hair and bringing him down for a sloppy kiss. Ajax groaned into Diluc’s mouth, his tongue slipping between the other’s lips easily. With his free hand, Ajax attempted to push the heavy coat off of Diluc’s shoulders, but with his back pinned against the door, it was futile. He groaned into Diluc’s mouth again, this time in annoyance, before he ripped himself away from the mouth that was quickly becoming addicting.

Diluc could see that Ajax was about to say something, but cut him off. “Bedroom,” he panted out, knowing Ajax was thinking the same thing. Ajax let him down and nodded at him, and that was all Diluc needed. He grabbed the man’s hand, almost running through the manor to get to the stairs, zipping through the halls to get to his bedroom. He led Ajax into the room, seeing Ajax kick the door closed behind him, before he was promptly thrown onto his own bed.

Diluc gasped as he bounced back on the bed, his length twitching in his pants. He quickly kicked off his socks and shoes as he saw Ajax doing the same, before Ajax pounced on him. His mouth was everywhere, leaving kisses and bites so quickly that Diluc couldn’t even process it before he would move on to a new spot. His hands moved in a frenzy as well, hastily reaching for Diluc’s hands to strip him of his gloves.

Ajax pulled at the collar of Diluc’s coat, wanting the material off hours ago. The coat was still proving difficult, as he had to get Diluc to work his arms out of it, and Ajax declared the coat his new nemesis. He slowed his mouth leaving marks all along Diluc’s neck, carefully getting Diluc to help him pull his arms out of the offending jacket. He pulled back a bit to let Diluc sit up so he could throw the coat to the ground, Ajax delighted to finally be rid of it.

As happy as he was to be rid of Diluc’s coat, Ajax groaned in annoyance at the sight of more layers of clothing hiding the bare skin he so desperately wanted to see. He did take a moment to appreciate Diluc in his bartending uniform, the black dress shirt and white vest making him look oh so cute when paired with his flushed face and heaving chest. Ajax dived in again, mouthing at Diluc’s neck. “So. Many. Fucking. Layers,” he huffed out into Diluc’s skin, impatiently undoing the buttons of his vest.

Diluc let out a breathless laugh, his breathing still heavy from all the attention Ajax was giving his neck. “I don’t see you- ah. I don’t see you taking anything off,” he panted out, thinking it was a bit unfair that he was the only one being undressed. He let one of his hands move to Ajax’s hip, sliding up to feel the small stretch of skin that was exposed by the cut of his shirt. He let his hand wander further up beneath Ajax’s shirt, sucking in a breath at the feeling of abs and corded muscle.

Ajax hummed against the skin of Diluc’s neck at the feeling of his hand against his own bare skin. “All in good time, baby,” he chuckled, pulling away as he had finally gotten the vest unbuttoned. “For now, I want to see how beautiful you are under all these clothes,” he murmured as rid Diluc of the vest.

Diluc squirmed against the bed as Ajax slowly undid the buttons of his dress shirt, not used to being stared at so intensely. Ajax’s eyes were glued to where his hands were meticulously undoing each button, hungrily eating up every inch of newly revealed skin. Once he undid the last button, he unceremoniously pushed it to Diluc’s sides, putting his entire bare torso on display.

Ajax could do nothing but stare. The man laid out before him was breathtaking, and he wasn’t even fully undressed yet. Ajax wasn’t sure if he would make it through this night alive. But oh it would be such a glorious death. He was so caught up in letting his eyes wander about the wide expanse of skin that he didn’t notice Diluc wriggling his arms out of the sleeves. He only noticed when Diluc sat up a bit to toss the shirt to the floor, his abs clenching deliciously.

Diluc continued to squirm against the sheets, hating that Ajax was staring at him silently for so long. He didn’t find Diluc unattractive, did he? Diluc knew that much of his muscle mass was pretty well hidden beneath his clothes, but without them, there was no hiding it. He prayed to the gods that Ajax didn’t mind his extra bulk. “Ajax,” he whined softly, a small pout to his lips.

Diluc whining his name finally snapped Ajax out of his reverie. “Gods,” he whispered, letting his gloved hands slide up Diluc’s chest, coming to cup the pectoral muscles. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispered again, still entranced by the way the flush on Diluc’s cheeks continued down his neck and to his check, covering the pale skin in bright red splotches. His eyes flicked up to Diluc’s face. “Oh, one more thing.” He reached behind Diluc’s head to undo the ponytail that was holding his hair back. After running his fingers through the locks, he leaned back to admire the view.

And what a view he was. Diluc’s face flushed a bright pink, red splotches of blush littering his beautiful pale skin, his chest rising with each breath he took. All of this, framed by a halo of fiery red hair, the curls spilling out and spreading across the sheets.

Ajax’s patience snapped. He dove down to leave a harsh bite at the meat of Diluc’s pectoral muscle, his hands feverishly wanting to map out every dip and curve.

Diluc let out a small “ah-“ at the harsh bite. A high-pitched keening noise ripped from his throat as Ajax laves his tongue over a nipple.

Ajax chuckled through his nose. “Do you like that? Does it feel good?” he murmured into the skin. Diluc let out a whine in response, which simply wouldn’t do, in Ajax’s opinion. “Diluc baby,” he began, pressing a chaste kiss to the man’s lips. “I want you to answer me when I ask you something, okay? I need to make sure you’re still comfortable and enjoying this. Need to know what makes you feel good. Think you can do that for me?” He grinned as Diluc nodded his head. “Good boy,” he whispered, planting another soft kiss to Diluc’s lips before making his way down his chest again.

Ajax blew on one of Diluc’s nipples softly, enjoying the way Diluc shivered in response. He took the bud lightly between his teeth before closing his lips around it. Diluc let out a soft moan at the feeling of Ajax’s tongue, his hand flying up to rest on the Harbinger’s shoulder. Ajax pulled back enough to purr, “Now let me ask you again. Does that feel good? Do you like getting your nipples played with?”

Ajax smirked to himself when Diluc nodded his head again, before whimpering out an answer. “Y-yeah... yes, it- fuck- it feels good.” Ajax switched his attention to the man’s other nipple, almost getting thrown off his body from how hard his chest was heaving.

Diluc let out another curse. Ajax pulled his mouth back to watch his hands move across the pale skin. His hands came to rest, cupping under the pectoral muscles and pushing them up and together. “Gods, I fucking love your chest,” Ajax breathed to himself; he knew Diluc could hear him from the way his breath hitched in his throat. “Just like a pair of tits,” he mused, squishing the muscles together. He smirked at the way Diluc’s breath was punched from his gut. “So fucking hot...”

Ajax looked up to see that Diluc’s mouth was opening and closing, as if he was trying to say something. “Yes, baby?” he asked, his hands stilling. “Did you want something?”

Diluc nodded, tugging slightly at the material of Ajax’s shirt. “O-off. Please... a-at least the gloves, fuck, please.”

Ajax was now positive he would not survive the night.He couldn’t believe this was Diluc’s first time, not with the way he begged so pretty. He didn’t even need to tell the other to say please. Perhaps he was a natural-born pleaser, Ajax thought to himself.

He snapped his attention back to Diluc when the other tugged at his clothes once more. “Oh, such a good boy, telling me what you want. So polite, too,” he cooed at Diluc. He hummed in consideration for a moment before an idea came to him. He regretfully removed one of his hands from Diluc’s chest, bringing it up to Diluc’s face, the fingertips of his gloves a hairbreadth away from Diluc’s shiny lips. “Would you be so kind as to help me with the gloves, hm?”

Ajax watched in twisted delight as Diluc slowly took the fabric of the middle finger of his glove between his teeth. He pulled his hand back a bit, happy to see Diluc rear his head back, the glove sliding off Ajax’s hand with ease. “Good,” he whispered to himself, taking the glove from Diluc’s mouth. He brought his other hand up, and Diluc helped him out of that glove as well.

Ajax tossed his gloves to the side carelessly, too excited to finally feel Diluc’s skin with his bare hands. He trailed his hands slowly from Diluc’s jaw down his neck, heat pooling in him as Diluc tilted his head further back to allow him more room. He trailed his hands down the other’s chest, feeling his pounding heartbeat, then further down, watching his abs twitch at the featherlight touches.

His hands ended up cupped around Diluc’s pecs once again. His hands massaged the muscle there as he mouthed at the skin. When he heard Diluc let out a pleased sigh, he bit down, gnawing at the muscle between his teeth. The sudden bite caused Diluc to gasp sharply, his eyes flying open to see Ajax’s mouth on his chest. Ajax released the muscle, giving the aggravated area a few licks and kisses to soothe the sting before he smirked up at Diluc. “Do you like me marking up your gorgeous tits? They’re gonna bruise so pretty...” he trailed off, moving to leave a similar bite mark on the other side of Diluc’s chest, a punched out “fuck-“ leaving Diluc’s lips at the sting.

Ajax was mouthing at the newest bite mark when he raised a questioning eyebrow at Diluc. Diluc gulped. “Yes...” he breathed out softly, hoping Ajax could hear him. “Hurts but... f-feels good. P-please don’t st-stop,” he whimpered, moving his free hand to Ajax’s hair in an attempt to keep him in place.

Ajax groaned into the skin of Diluc’s chest, “Gods, you’re such a good boy for me.” He made note of how Diluc’s hips bucked up at that, and filed the thought away for later.

Ajax spent the next few minutes leaving harsh bites all over Diluc’s chest, soothing the mark with kisses each time. Diluc felt as if he was on cloud nine, the deep sting from the initial bite sending electricity up his spine, only for heat to curl in his gut at the kisses left there afterwards. However, he was getting a bit impatient. His dick was rock hard in his pants, and he could feel a wet patch beginning to grow in his boxers. Diluc wanted to get his pants off. Actually, Diluc revised his own thoughts, he wanted to get Ajax out of his clothes even more, the Fatui man not even having shed his shirt yet.

Diluc tightened his hold in Ajax’s hair just slightly, tugging on his shirt with his other hand. “Off... plea- hng- please. W-wanna... wanna see- oh fuck- you too,” Diluc panted out, pleased that he could even get out coherent words at that point.

Ajax would never get tired of hearing Diluc beg. He breathed out a shaky, “Fuck... okay,” before he pulled back enough to tear his shirt off, throwing it who knows where. He could see Diluc eyeing him appreciatively, but didn’t give him much time to enjoy the view before he was kissing the other man senseless.

Diluc groaned into Ajax’s mouth, his hands sliding down the man’s back, finally attaining the skin-on-skin contact he didn’t know he craved. He let his hands wander and feel to make up for what his eyes weren’t able to see. From his exploration, he could tell that the other was covered in scars, both old and new, as well as the fact that he was much stronger than he appeared, corded muscles tense beneath his skin.

Diluc was slightly amused by the fact that Ajax’s hands returned to his chest almost immediately. It made Diluc feel... almost confident, the fact that Ajax seemed to like it so much. So, he arched his back, pushing his chest further into those incessant hands.

“Fuck,” Ajax breathed harshly into Diluc’s mouth. His hands squeezed around the muscles. “So fucking hot,” he panted out, moving to mouth at the other’s jaw. “Bet if I squeezed ‘em together, I could get my dick in between and fuck your tits,” he rambled, words spilling from his mouth before he could really even think about it.

Diluc absolutely keened at that, his head thrown back as a high whine escaped his throat. His reaction only spurred Ajax on. “Yeah? Would you like that baby? Want me to fuck your tits?” he mumbled into Diluc’s skin, the idea almost sending him into a frenzy. Diluc was faring no better. His eyes were pinched shut, pushing his chest out even further, a constant stream of “yes, yes, yes” falling from his lips.

It was only when Diluc desperately ground his hips up into Ajax’s that the Harbinger remembered his main goal for the night. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Maybe later, baby,” he said, chuckling at the small pout Diluc gave him in response. “Definitely later,” he revised, happy to see Diluc perk up at that too. “For now, though,” he trailed his hands down Diluc’s chest, over his abs, and toying with the waistband of his pants. “Let's get you out of these, shall we?”

Diluc was all too eager to lift his hips to help Ajax undress him, any shyness at being bared being overshadowed by his desire. Ajax tossed his pants to the side, eyeing the large bulge in his boxers with a hungry gaze. Diluc let out a breathy whine as Ajax palmed him, finally giving his cock attention. He cursed when Ajax lowered his head to mouth at him through the fabric, hot breath and saliva dampening the material even further. Ajax hummed against his length, breathing out, “Gods, how are you even real?” as his hands slid up Diluc’s thighs.

Diluc cried out as Ajax dug his fingers into the meat of Diluc’s thighs, causing the Harbinger to groan. “Fuck, baby, your thighs,” he whispered reverently against Diluc’s length, feeling it twitch beneath the fabric. He trailed his mouth down to suck a mark into the flesh of the redhead’s inner thigh. “Can I mark ‘em up? Bruise ‘em all nice and pretty to match your tits? Mark ‘em as mine?” Ajax purred.

Diluc sucked in a wet, heaving breath. “Yes, please- oh fuck,” he panted out. He let one of his hands trail to his own chest, pressing his finger into one of the dark red marks that will surely bruise later. “Can you... can you- ah! B-bite? Fuck, please?” Diluc begged, craving the sting of Ajax’s teeth again.

Ajax groaned, reaching a hand down to adjust himself in his pants. “‘Course, baby,” he whispered. He returned his hand, using it to pull Diluc’s boxers off. Diluc squirmed at being fully bare, but Ajax just pressed a sweet kiss to his shaft, his hand wrapped around the base. He let himself begin to ramble as he slowly stroked Diluc’s cock. “Gonna mark up these perfect thighs. Gods, you’re gonna be so bruised tomorrow, you’ll look so gorgeous. Gonna mark you up so everyone knows you’re mine.”

Diluc couldn’t stop the near constant stream of moans and whimpers from leaving his lips. The feeling of Ajax’s hand finally on his dick is heavenly, and the man’s whispered words only add fuel to the fire in his gut. He lets out a sharp cry as Ajax’s teeth sink into the meat of his inner thigh, the noise turning into a low groan as Ajax soothes the sting with his tongue.

Ajax only removed his head from between Diluc’s thighs once he was satisfied that the redhead was as marked up as possible. He really hoped Diluc wouldn’t kick him out once they were done, he wanted to see how well all his marks turned into bruises for himself in the morning. He pulled his mouth away from Diluc’s thighs, stroking a finger over the bite-mark covered skin reverently. “These are gonna look so good, baby,” he murmured. “Can’t wait to see you covered in my bruises.”

Diluc whined, his hips jumping as the pace of Ajax’s hand on his cock had slowed significantly. Ajax must have noticed, because he was soon licking small stripes up the entire length. Small cries and high pitched whimpers were ripped from Diluc’s throat. He turned his head to the side, knowing that the sight of Ajax between his thighs with his mouth on his cock could probably make him cum.

Ajax trailed his lips up the shaft, planting a sloppy kiss right at the tip. “Love this fucking cock,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. He grinned at the moan Diluc let out. “Want me to suck it? Bet you taste so good,” he rambled, eyes eager to see Diluc’s reaction. “I can usually swallow everything, but you’re so big I might just choke on it.” He delighted in the hitch in Diluc’s breath, the way his hips jumped. “I’d love it though, choking on it. I’d let you gag me with it, ‘til I can’t breathe.”

He grinned evilly as Diluc let out a loud whine. “But maybe later.” With that, he sat up completely, leaving only his hand wrapped loosely around the base of Diluc’s length. He chuckled as Diluc balked at him, having had all the pleasurable sensations ripped away. “Sorry baby, but I gotta ask: do you want to top or bottom?” Ajax desperately wanted to fuck the other man, but since it was his first time, he figured he would let the redhead make the decision.

Diluc flushed, averting his eyes. “Oh, I, um, uh... w-want you to... to, um, f-fuck me,” he stammered out before blearing his throat. “Please.”

Ajax wanted so badly to hop on board with that and absolutely destroy the other man, but he felt it was only fair to give him a warning. “Are you sure, baby? It might hurt a bit,” he said cautiously.

Diluc took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Yes, I’m sure. And I- I... I trust you,” he finished quietly.

Ajax smiled, swooping down to press a soft kiss to Diluc’s forehead. “Alright. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.” He planted a final kiss on the tip of Diluc’s nose, watching it scrunch up adorably. He patted the man lightly on the hip. “Turn over onto your stomach for me, baby. Also, lube?”

Diluc’s eyes widened a bit, heat rising to his cheeks before he complied, nodding his head toward the nightstand. As he was turning, he heard Ajax rummaging around through the drawer before closing it and tossing the bottle onto the bed next to him. Ajax grabbed a pillow from the headboard and placed it under his hips, making him flush further at the thought of his ass being put on display. Once he was settled, he grabbed a pillow to hug to his chest, giving himself something to keep his hand occupied with. He heard Ajax chuckle behind him, turning his head to look at the man questioningly, only to hear, “Of course you have a perfect ass as well,” spilling from the Harbinger’s lips.

Diluc jumped slightly when Ajax grabbed his ass without ceremony, a handful of cheek in each. He relaxed once again when Ajax began massaging his ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. He let out a soft hum, content. He didn’t even notice that Ajax had pulled his cheeks apart until he felt a thumb softly run over his hole. He jolted in surprise, making Ajax pull away, a worried look in his eyes. Diluc turned his head to the side, but wouldn’t make eye contact. “Sorry, sorry” he breathed out. “Just... surprised me. Keep going. Please,” he finished weakly.

Ajax wasn’t entirely convinced. “You sure?” he asked, not wanting to cause Diluc any discomfort. Diluc nodded his head eagerly where it lay on the pillow, and Ajax let out a bated breath. He put his hands back on Diluc’s ass, comforted by the way Diluc seemed to immediately relax into the touch. “Have you ever had anything in you before?” he asked quietly.

Diluc turned to hide more of his face into his pillow. “Mmfnhfnggrz” was the muffled response. Ajax could guess as to what was said, but he really wanted to hear Diluc say it himself. He continued to massage Diluc’s asscheeks, thumbs occasionally brushing the skin closer to his crack, but never getting any closer to his hole. “Hm, what was that baby? I couldn’t understand you.”

Ajax grinned as Diluc turned his head to face him more, his face almost as red as his hair, his eyes looking anywhere but at the Harbinger. “I- I’ve used, um... my- my fingers before,” he whispered.

Ajax’s grin morphed into a soft smile, encouraging Diluc to continue. “Mhmm. And how did it feel baby?” He tutted when Diluc buried his head in his pillow again, groaning in shame. “Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. I’m just trying to get more familiar with what your comfort level is. Like I said, I’m gonna make this good for you,” he explained, leaving a trail of soft kisses up Diluc’s spine.

Diluc turned his head to the side once again, his eyes pinching shut. “It felt...” he began, trailing off as he thought about the answer. “Fine,” he answered decisively. “Felt... felt full, it- it was good,” he sighed, the memory of his own fingers inside him fresh in his mind. “But it, uh, w-wasn’t enough to...” he trailed off, hoping Ajax would understand what he meant.

Ajax’s mind was reeling, head filled with thoughts and visions of Diluc desperately trying to fuck himself on his fingers, only to cry out in frustration when he can’t hit that perfect spot inside him. If he could ever get Diluc into bed with him again, he would need to make the redhead ringer himself open for him; Ajax was sure it would be an excellent show.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Diluc’s hips twitched a bit, pushing his ass back into Ajax’s hands. He planted one final kiss to Diluc’s shoulder before sitting up once again. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll see stars,” he chuckled breathlessly, watching as Diluc minutely thrusted into the pillow beneath his hips.

Diluc startled at the snap of the lube cap opening, relaxing again as Ajax pressed a comforting kiss on one of his cheeks. He inhaled sharply as Ajax’s thumbs spread his cheeks apart once more. “Gods, I’d love to eat you out one day,” he heard the Harbinger mumble into his skin, his hips thrusting against the pillow weakly at the thought. Ajax must’ve noticed, for he continued, “Would you like that, baby? Would you let me eat your ass?” As he said it, one of his hands disappeared, only to return moments later, spreading warmed lube across Diluc’s entrance with a thumb.

Diluc’s breath caught in his throat at the familiar feeling of the substance. What wasn’t familiar, however, was the feeling of someone’s else’s hands doing the work. They had barely even started, but Diluc already decided that he liked this much better than doing it himself.

The redhead’s breath escaped him in a shaky exhale as Ajax pushed just the tip of his thumb in, the rim fluttering around the intrusion. Ajax was keeping a keen eye out for any signs of discomfort from Diluc; when he found none, he slowly edged his thumb further in, up to the first knuckle. Diluc let out a quiet moan, his hips pushing back when Ajax stilled. Encouraged, Ajax continued.

He twisted his thumb around a bit, feelings Diluc’s walls stretch around him. He pulled his thumb this way and that, stretching the rim a bit further. Diluc was humming softly, quiet moans falling from his lips every so often. Ajax removed his thumb, smiling at the whine that escaped Diluc’s throat from the loss. He shushed the redhead quietly, leaving soft kisses along his thighs.

Ajax slid his index finger into Diluc, meeting little resistance. He reveled in the moan the man let loose, his volume having increased ever so slightly. He slid his finger in to the base, Diluc’s shoulders tensing a bit. “Doing okay?” Ajax asked softly, stilling his hand.

“Yeah,” Diluc gasped out. “Keep going.”

Ajax nodded softly, despite the fact that Diluc couldn’t actually see him. He slowly pulled his finger out until only the tip remained inside, and was just as slow in pushing it back in. Ajax was doing his best to go slow, despite his desire to just ram into the man below him, but the groan Diluc let out and the way his hips pushed back into his finger were really testing his restraint.

“So fucking good,” Ajax mumbled. He curled his finger a bit inside Diluc, the man letting out a whine. He removed his finger, two returning to Diluc’s hole before the redhead could even protest the loss. He slid his fingers in slowly, two being more of a stretch, pleased when Diluc only pushed his hips back further. “Take my fingers so well,” he murmured reverently. He paused as his fingers met some resistance around his knuckles, pulling them back only to push back in, loosening Diluc’s rim more.

Ajax slowly fucked his two fingers in and out of Diluc’s hole, the redhead letting out wet, panting breaths into the pillow he had clutched to his chest. After a short bit of time doing this, Ajax was able to slide both fingers in entirely, letting out a shaky breath at the delicious groan Diluc let out. He stilled, mesmerized by the sight and feeling of Diluc’s rim clenching around the base of his fingers.

Diluc felt his hips twitch involuntarily in impatience. He turned his head to look at the man behind him, his face partially obscured by his own fiery red curls. “M-move... pl- please, more,” he whimpered out, desperate for the feel of Ajax’s fingers stretching him open.

Ajax let out a low groan as he retracted his fingers slowly. He pushed them back in quickly, grinning at the way Diluc’s breath was punched from his gut. He repeated the action, Diluc letting out a low moan this time. He continued this, withdrawing slowly, only to push back in quickly- quickly, but not very rough. At some point, Ajax realized he couldn’t hear Diluc’s noises as well, looking up to find the man biting at his pillow.

Ajax tsked, using his free hand to grab some of Diluc’s hair and pull. A split second after he did it, he thought that he really should’ve been gentler, but the high, unabashed keen that was ripped from Diluc’s throat quelled his worries. He brought his lips down to Diluc’s ear, using the grip in his hair to get Diluc to arch his back just ever so slightly. “Nuh uh, baby. You gotta let me hear those beautiful noises, remember? You need to let me know how good I’m making you feel, hm?” he whispered, grinning dearly when Diluc took in a gulping gasp of air, his head nodding as much as it could with the grip Ajax still had on his hair. “Good boy.” He planted a kiss in Diluc’s hair, rewarding the man by twisting the fingers he still had inside him.

Diluc gasped at the feeling of the fingers inside him twisting, only for them to begin spreading apart, scissoring him open. This was always his favorite part of fingering himself, the feeling of his rim loosening, stretching further. He could never reach very far inside himself, but he did enjoy the feeling of being full. He enjoyed Ajax’s fingers much more than his own, as they were able to fill him as he desired, but they could also reach deep, hitting spots inside Diluc that had never been touched before.

“Feel good?” Ajax asked, snapping Diluc’s attention back to reality. Diluc heard a constant stream of soft whines and deep groans, embarrassed to find that he was the one making those noises. “Love the way you sound,” Ajax murmured, causing Diluc to flush, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as Ajax’s fingers curled inside him. “Yeah, just like that. Gods, so fucking hot.” Ajax slowed his fingers. “Tell me how it feels, baby,” the Harbinger ordered.

“Feels... oh fuck, good, feels so good,” Diluc blurted out, his pride nowhere to be found. “P-please, want- want... ah- want m-more,” he whimpered. “F-feel... mmmn- full, f-fuck. N-need... full, ple- hnngg- please?” Diluc really hoped that Ajax knew what he was begging for, because he sure didn’t know himself. “W-want- FUCK!” He cried out as Ajax curled his fingers just so, pressing against a spot inside him that made him dizzy with pleasure. He almost jackknifed off the bed, but Ajax’s free hand was quick to clamp down on his hip, keeping him firmly in place.

Ajax grinned sharply when he found the redhead’s prostate, his grin only growing at Diluc’s reaction, despite having to hold the man down. He stilled his fingers for a moment, knowing Diluc would need some time to collect himself. “Wh-... what was that?” Diluc asked hoarsely.

Ajax laughed. “That’s your prostate, baby. Really sensitive,” he explained, soothing his thumb over Diluc’s hip as the man was still taking shaky breaths. His grin turned wicked. “I told you I would make you see stars, didn’t I?” He fucked his fingers into Diluc’s hole again at the same angle, basking in the sharp cry that was ripped from Diluc’s throat. “Tell me how good it feels,” he whispered, his fingers continuing their motion.

Diluc had never felt such intense pleasure in his entire life. He felt as if Ajax’s two fingers had fucked the sanity out of him. “So- fuck- so good... yes, fuck, oh gods... m-more, pl- ah- please,” he begged, words spilling from his lips before he could even process what it was that he was even saying. A filthy noise was ripped from Diluc’s throat when Ajax added a third finger, still hitting the same spot inside him. Ajax had been thorough enough that the additional finger didn’t cause any pain, but Diluc reveled in the extra feeling of fullness.

When Ajax switched to keeping his fingers stuffed inside Diluc, fingertips massaging and rubbing circles into that sensitive spot inside him, Diluc’s hips began thrusting. He wasn’t quite sure if he was thrusting back into Ajax’s hands, or forward, rutting his dick into the pillow beneath his hips. All he knew was that he wanted more. As Ajax continued his ministrations with his fingers, Diluc could feel heat pooling in his gut. “Fuck, fuck, gods yes... so- hnngg- so full,” he panted out. “P-please, I’m- ah!- close, fuck, please.”

Ajax’s eyes lit up, hungrily watching Diluc rut between the pillow and his hand. “Yeah? You gonna cum on my fingers? Just from being stuffed full?” he teased sadistically, harshly thrusting his fingers in further for emphasis. He grinned manically, his dick positively leaking in his pants, at the noise Diluc let loose, almost sounding like a sob. Gods, he would love to fuck the redhead to the point of tears. He ground his fingers into Diluc’s prostate insistently. “Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum on my fingers, baby,” he murmured reverently.

Ajax was in awe. There was simply no other word for it. He watched as Diluc rutted into the pillow beneath him, suddenly freezing at his words, body tensed, as he let out a garbled whine high in his throat. The redhead was positively shaking through his orgasm, tremors running through his entire body as Ajax’s fingers worked him through his high. He retracted his fingers carefully once Diluc’s shoulders had finally relaxed again, his body still shaking.

The Harbinger gently coaxed Diluc to roll over onto his back, tossing the soiled pillow off the bed in the process. Ajax fell over top of him, leaving gentle kisses along the skin of his neck. “So wonderful, did so good for me,” he whispered the soothing words. “Perfect, just perfect.”

Diluc worked to open his eyes a fraction from where they were pinched shut, his body still wracked with tremors. “A-aren’t you g-gonna... f-fuck me? Y-you still ha- haven’t...” he trailed off, attempting to weakly gesture toward the rather obvious tent in Ajax’s pants with a shaky hand.

Ajax cooed at him. How sweet of him, he thought to himself. “Oh baby, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Diluc frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “B-but... w-want you t-to fuck me? P-please?”

Ajax groaned at that. “Baby... you’re still going to be so sensitive,” he explained, trailing his fingers down to Diluc’s hips. The way Diluc’s hips twitched even at the light touch proving his point. “Are you sure?”

Diluc nodded his head eagerly. “Y-yes, please. W-want it. Wanna f-feel, feel you.” He could already feel his dick begin to twitch in interest again, and knew that it certainly wouldn’t take very long for him to get hard again.

Ajax sucked in a breath at that. “Gods, you’re incredible,” he whispered softly before continuing, his voice raised so that Diluc could hear. “Alright, baby, I’ll fuck you. You just have to let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?” When Diluc nodded, Ajax all but ripped his own pants off, eager to finally give his dick some attention.

Diluc was trying to angle his head to get a look at what Ajax had been hiding in his pants the whole night, curiosity taking over him, but the sound of the lube cap snapping open once more jolted him. Ajax hung his head over Diluc’s chest, letting out a soft hiss at his dick finally getting some contact. Diluc felt a sticky hand lightly pat the outside of his thigh. “Can you spread your legs for me, baby?” Ajax asked. Diluc complied, spreading his thighs apart, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as he slipped his eyes closed.

Ajax positioned his hands, one on Diluc’s hip, and the other grabbing the back of his thigh, pushing his knee towards his chest. He internally appreciated the flexibility of the man. He positioned the tip of his cock just outside Diluc’s hole, feeling the rim flutter at the contact. “I’ll go slow, okay?” He whispered into Diluc’s neck.

Diluc nodded, not trusting his voice enough to respond. He gasped sharply as the pressure against his rim increased, letting out a breathy cry as he felt the tip of Ajax’s length breach the ring of muscle. Diluc’s hands flew to Ajax’s shoulders once the Harbinger had gotten the head of his cock inside, nails digging into the flesh there. He could barely hear the deep groan that was ripped from Ajax’s throat over his own pounding heartbeat and gasping breaths.

Ajax had to still once he had gotten the head of his dick inside Diluc, worried he might cum if he pressed any further. Diluc was just so tight, wrapped deliciously around him. After taking a moment to collect himself, Ajax pressed further. It was overwhelming. All the punched out little “ah, ah, ah”s Diluc was letting out, the feeling of nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, the heat wrapped around his length, everything was flooding his senses.

He was about three-quarters of the way in when he was finally met with some resistance, Diluc tensing beneath him. Ajax peppered his face with kisses, stroking soothing thumbs over the skin of his hips and thighs. “Shhh, you’re doing so good, baby, so good,” he whispered. “You’re almost there, Diluc, only a little bit left. Don’t you want to take me? Don’t you want to be a good boy and take all of me?” He began slowly moving his length in and out of Diluc, never pushing any deeper.

Diluc sucked in a heaving breath, his chest trembling slightly. “Y-yeah,” he whispered, face positively burning. “K-keep going. Please.” Diluc let out a whimper when Ajax continued to press forward slowly, the stretch slightly uncomfortable, but eventually turning into a twisted form of pleasure that he couldn’t exactly describe.

Ajax’s head fell to Diluc’s shoulder with a moan when he finally bottomed out, drowning out the small whine from Diluc. “Good job, baby,” he panted out. “That’s everything. Can you feel me stretching you out? Tell me how good it feels,” he asked Diluc, needing to take another moment to compose himself before he came immediately.

“I- It’s a lot,” he rasped out. “S-so big, fuck. F-feel so... mmmn- so full.” He wriggled his hips back, wanting to feel more of the length inside him. He stilled once he felt the grip of Ajax’s hands tighten, the one on his thigh digging into a mark the Harbinger had left there. “Y-you can move,” he whispered, giving Ajax permission to do as he pleased.

Ajax groaned as he moved to mouth at the marks on Diluc’s chest, pleased to see that Diluc’s cock was hard once again. He pulled his hips back at a snail’s pace, until only the tip was left inside. He felt Diluc’s hole clench around him. “Baby, I am not gonna last very long,” he laughed out weakly. With that, he slid back in just as slowly, listening to the symphony of Diluc’s whimpers and whines.

After a few thrusts at such a sluggish pace, Diluc began to squirm. “F-faster... pl- ah- please,” he whispered.

Ajax’s patience was stretched thin. He was going so slow, making sure not to hurt Diluc, when all he wanted to do was ram the man into the mattress. He picked up his pace at Diluc’s plea, still going slower than he would like, but it still felt incredible. He swooped to capture Diluc’s lips in a kiss, swallowing all the gasps, grunts, whines, and moans the man let out at the increase in pace.

Eventually, Ajax’s pace had gradually increased to the point where he could hear his hips slapping against Diluc’s own. He tore himself away from the redhead’s mouth, moving to sit up on his knees in between Diluc’s spread legs, taking in the sight before him.

Diluc looked... wrecked. His chest was flushed a deep red, covered in bite marks, and positively heaving with every breath he took. His thighs, also covered in Ajax’s marks, were quivering in the Harbinger’s hold. And his face- wait, Ajax thought to himself.

His expression was obscured, an arm thrown over his face to cover it. Ajax halted his thrusts, keeping himself buried to the hilt. He ground his hips into Diluc’s slowly, taking in Diluc’s low groan. He let go of the man’s thigh, reaching up to grab Diluc’s wrist, pinning it to the bed above his head. “Let me see you, baby,” he cooed. “Wanna see your pretty little faces.” He let out a deep hum, feeling Diluc clench around him. “Gods, love seeing how wrecked you look. All from my cock.”

Diluc whined high in his throat, partially embarrassed at having Ajax see him in such a debauched state. But if he was being honest, he was feeling so good that he began to forget why he even cared. He nodded absently at what Ajax had said, then suddenly threw his head back as the Harbinger resumed his thrusts.

Ajax sped his hips up, pounding into Diluc now. He moved his hand from Diluc’s hip to wrap around the man’s cock, keeping his other hand where it was pinning Diluc’s arm above his head. Diluc cried out at the contact, his head thrashing about. Ajax angled his hips, aiming to hit that spot inside Diluc that made him see stars. He knew he had hit his target once Diluc let out a sob.

Ajax sped up the hand on the redhead’s cock, feral grin growing as he saw a tear spill from where Diluc’s eyes were pinched shut. “F-fuck, yes. I- I’m cl- mmmn- close. ‘M g-gonna cum, fuck.” Diluc’s cries rang through Ajax’s head as he panted harshly.

“Fuck, so tight. Look at you, crying on my cock,” his thrusts became sporadic as he saw more tears sliding down Diluc’s cheeks. “Open your eyes, baby. Want you to look at me when you cum, make sure you know I’m the one making you feel this good.” He groaned low in his throat when Diluc complied, ruby red eyes opening and locking onto his, hazy and fogged over with pleasure. Ajax watched in awe as more tears spilled over, bottom eyelashes wet and clumped together.

Diluc’s hips bucked into Ajax’s hand, the coil of heat in his gut about to snap. “Fuck,” he whimpered weakly. A sob was ripped from him as he shot his release over Ajax’s hand and across his own stomach, some even reaching his chest. He continued to sob, more tears leaking from his eyes as Ajax continued to stroke him through his high, his cock never stopping it’s thrusting into Diluc’s ass. He thought he could hear Ajax let out something that sounded like a curse, but couldn’t decipher what language it was in.

Ajax continued pounding into Diluc and stroking his dick until the man began to wince and whimper, body wracked in tremors once more. He let go of the man’s cock, spent length flopping into the mess on his stomach. He tore himself from Diluc’s hole; if he hadn’t been about two seconds away from cumming, he would’ve felt bad at the sharp wince he saw from Diluc. However, as it was, his only concern was getting himself off. He crawled his way up Diluc’s body in his knees until he was straddling the man’s ribs. His hand (partially covered in Diluc’s release, Ajax noticed belatedly) flew to his own dick as he began stroking himself desperately.

A filthy groan was ripped from his throat. His hand was flying in his cock, Diluc’s cum making the slide wet and slick. He pitched forward, breath knocked out of him as he saw Diluc’s eyes squint open blearily. His eyes darted to where he was stroking himself, only to notice that beneath his dick (which was an angry red) was Diluc’s chest, marked up with forming bruises and bite marks, a few streaks of pearly white completing the masterpiece.

“Can I- ah- cum on your chest, baby? Get it all messy? All over those pretty marks?” he panted, hoping Diluc would give him permission because he was going to cum within the next ten seconds. He gasped sharply as Diluc nodded, dazed. “Fuck,” he bit out aggressively. “Gonna cum on your pretty tits, baby.” With that, he came, shooting ropes of cum over Diluc’s chest exactly as promised. He took wheezing, gasping breaths of air in as he continued to stroke himself, riding out his high.

Diluc let his eyes slip shut, letting out a content hum as his chest was covered. Ajax hunched over him, dropping his head so that their foreheads were touching. “You did... so good, baby,” Ajax panted out, Diluc preening at the words. Once Ajax released Diluc’s hand that he had pinned to the mattress, Diluc slowly moved it to Ajax’s hair, bringing the man down for a kiss.

It was a rather pathetic kiss, more just panting into each other’s mouths. But it felt oh so intimate, just holding each other close after they both reached their highs, hands softly caressing any skin they could reach.

Ajax fluttered around Diluc’s face, leaving kisses on his skin and whispering praises between each brush of lips. “Such a good boy.” A kiss to Diluc’s temple. “So wonderful.” A kiss to his cheek. “Just beautiful.” A kiss to his forehead. “So perfect for me.” A kiss to his lips.

Ajax took a deep breath, resolving himself to finally sitting up and pulling away from Diluc. He clambered off of the man, eyes darting around the room in hopes to find his (or Diluc’s, honestly) boxers somewhere on the floor. Once he spotted them, he rolled off the bed and snatched them up. As he was pulling them up his legs, he noticed Diluc watching him with a small frown, eyes questioning.

“W- ... what are you doing?” he asked softly, his voice weak. Ajax delighted in hearing how hoarse his voice sounded, the way the words came out slightly raspy.

He finished pulling his boxers on, turning to Diluc with a soft smile. “Gotta get us cleaned up, baby. Bathroom is this way?” he asked, pointing to a door which he assumed led to the bathroom. At Diluc’s small nod, he went in. He couldn’t take in how impressive the bathroom was or how organized Diluc kept his things, too focused on trying to find a washcloth or a towel. After digging through some drawers, he finally found some washcloths. He used one to quickly clean himself up. Grabbing another one, he ran the cloth under warm water, soaking the fabric and wringing it out to make it damp, but not dripping.

He returned to the bedroom, washcloth in hand, to find Diluc slightly more alert, but still pretty out of it. He crawled onto the bed next to Diluc, slowly wiping up the mess on his stomach. As Ajax moved the cloth up to clean his chest, Diluc’s head fell to rest on his shoulder. He planted a kiss to the crown of Diluc’s head once he deemed the man clean. “Do you want some fresh clothes to put on, baby?” he asked in a whisper, not wanting to shock Diluc out of his relaxed state.

Diluc hummed in agreement. “Boxers... Top drawer,” he muttered softly, nodding his head towards a dresser by his closet. He felt immediately cold as soon as Ajax left his side again. He shivered slightly, watching the man rummage through the drawer he pointed out, coming back with a new pair of simple black boxers. Diluc felt his cheeks heat up as Ajax dressed him, pressing kisses to the skin of his legs as he dragged the fabric up.

Diluc sighed in content, happy to have Ajax next to him again. They stayed like that for a while, Diluc’s head resting on Ajax’s chest. Ajax was drawing small patterns into his biceps from where the Harbinger had his arms wrapped around him. They stayed like that until Diluc began to get drowsy, his breaths evening out and his eyes slipping shut. He was sleepy enough that he almost didn’t notice as Ajax slowly removed himself from beneath him, only noticing once he was completely off the bed. His eyes blinked open blearily, seeing Ajax tiptoe around his room in search of his clothes.

“Where are you going?” he asked sleepily, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Ajax froze, the sound of Diluc’s voice startling him. He turned to the man. “I, uh, gotta grab my clothes. I, um, I figured you’d want me to leave, but I can’t exactly go without-“ he cut himself off as Diluc shook his head, then uttered the one word he had been hoping to hear all night.

“Stay.”

#genshin #genshin imapct #childe #diluc #tartaglia #diluc ragnvindr #genshin childe #genshin diluc #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #childe smut #diluc smut #tartaglia smut #childe x diluc #diluc x childe #chiluc #chiluc smut

[delimeful]

(don’t) take this the wrong way (7) (END)

final chapter of dtttww :) i had a lot of fun with this verse so i may take requests set in it in the future, and this might receive some more copy editing later, but for now this is the epilogue!

warnings: mild injury, mild hypnosis, for once no miscommunication :)

-

[Several months later…]

Sunlight trickled down through the water in wavy bands, illuminating the shallows and growing fainter and fainter as the distance from the surface increased.

Virgil didn’t spend much time in the shallows, too wary of being without escape, being made vulnerable to human vessels or poachers. Despite his dark and gloomy aesthetic, he couldn’t go too far into the depths either, simply because his fragile fish bones weren't built for it. His eyes weren’t built for it either, and down there where anything could be lurking, he would need more than speed to avoid danger.

So, on an average, sunny day like this, he could be found miles offshore, in waters that were easily too deep for unsuited humans to reach, but still well-illuminated by the light above.

There were a few old wrecks scattered about the ocean floor here, and though they’d probably been stripped by a pod in the past, he figured he’d go through them and check for anything that was left behind. Things that weren’t useful to a pod could certainly be things that were useful to him, after all.

He’d been poking through the undercarriage of one of the larger ships for an hour or two, relaxed as he ever got. He could take his time. The only creatures around to judge him were the shoals of fish and layers of barnacles built up amidst the metal, wood, and rust.

Actually… Virgil paused in his inspection of an old cutlery set to glance around.

What had happened to the fish?

Through a hole in the ship’s hull, he watched as a broad shadow passed over the ground and ships alike, large enough to belong to a whale.

There hadn’t been a single shred of whalesong above.

Virgil edged further back from the hole, eyeing the outside warily as the shadow receded, leaving behind only wavering sunlight on sand as though it had never been there at all.

There was nothing here that was worth sticking around.

He carefully made his way back to one of the other exits, in the opposite direction of where he’d seen the shadow head, the strokes of his fin cutting through the water with barely a whisper. The porthole was easily wide enough for him, and the ocean stretched out blue and vast before him, a promise of safety if he just moved fast enough.

A moment’s pause, to make sure he didn’t hear or see anything out of place, and then he was out, flitting from rock outcropping to bone reef and scanning the seas above. Not for the first time, he wished his scales were a little less distinctive in the day.

Behind him, an ominous creak.

He froze, and watched with mounting apprehension as a shadow spilled over him, looming closer and darker than before. The silhouette of an arm stretched out, heading towards him…

“Virgil, you must help,” a huge voice pleaded, “I’ve been had.”

He twisted around just in time to see a huge arm flop down onto the floor next to him, kicking up a cloud of sand and panicked burrower fish in the process.

It was wrapped in heavy wire netting from fingertips to forearm, and behind it, a giant mer was pouting at him with the best seal pup eyes he could manage, which, considering who his best friend was, were fairly potent.

Roman was huge, and he was a shark, with teeth and claws designed to shred and tear, and hands that could enclose him entirely-- but his elbows were braced against the ground with delicate balance so he wouldn’t crush anything, and he’d never grabbed for Virgil past that first disastrous encounter, and even now, his brow was furrowing with worry.

“Pufferfish status?” he asked, voice lowered from the dramatic plea of before.

Virgil’s mouth pulled up at the corners without his permission.

Roman was huge, yes, but he was also theatrical and eager and witty, full of sharp return quips for every barb Virgil had to offer.

He could hurt him, but he wouldn’t. Virgil believed that much.

“Prickly for a second, but I’m smooth now,” he answered, shrugging away the last of the tension. “Try not to sneak up on me without a warning click?”

“You have my word,” Roman replied, and if someone had told him months ago that he’d dare to ask anything of a giant mer, he’d have laughed in their faces. Now, Virgil knew that just like all the other requests, Roman would do his best to heed it.

“But really, my fingers are starting to feel numb. Help?” he entreated with a tilt of his head, shifting his net-wrapped hand a little closer.

Virgil rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t go away, though it tilted more towards amused now. He darted forward, twisting in a spiral around Roman’s hand to try and see the extent of the damage.

“How’d you even manage this? At least I had the excuse of being caught up in a storm,” he snarked, picking at a loose section with his claws. Roman’s fingers twitched a little, and he shot him an apologetic glance.

“I was… perhaps… trying to get a glimpse of those sailors that Logan mentioned patrolled the coast?” Roman offered, more than a little sheepish.

Virgil’s gaze turned sharp in a heartbeat. “Did they spot you?”

Logan had warned both Patton and Roman several times that not many humans would take as kindly to their long-term existence near human settlements as Logan himself had.

“No!” Roman assured, “I was very stealthy, truly, I was just… so focused on being stealthy that I missed the other vessel and the nets it had dragging along behind it. It could have happened to anyone!”

“I seriously doubt that,” Virgil replied dryly. He’d snapped a few of the looser wires with his teeth, but already his jaw was beginning to ache with the strain. “Well, you get to explain this to Specs, ‘cause we’re going to need his expertise in detangling for this one.”

Roman groaned in answer, dropping his head to plonk against the ground.

---

Logan carefully set one foot in front of the other, all of his focus on the thin strip of rock below him.

If he switched his gaze to even a few inches to either side, he’d be faced with the sight of a vertigo-inducing drop to the waves below, one that would have all but the most experienced tightrope walkers dizzy with panic.

His gaze didn’t move, though, unerringly focused on the ground beneath him, and on his own body. There was no need to look at anything but the ledge, a soft presence confirmed in the back of his mind, because he wasn’t going to fall.

Another part of him was skeptical, seeing as he wasn’t known for a lack of clumsiness by most. There was just so much to get distracted by, and it was so easy to look away and miss a curb or accidentally trip over his own feet--

But not now. Now, he was focused on just this one task, a gentle voice dragging his attention back whenever it began to stray. He was hyper aware of where each of his limbs were and where he needed to put them to continue forward, step by careful step.

Only a little farther…

“Logan!”

The harsh call snapped him right out of the trance, and he was abruptly made very aware of both the distance he could fall and the effects that sudden instinctual terror had on his sense of balance.

“Newton’s fucking Cradle,” he swore, and then wobbled again, precariously close to falling over.

There was the sound of water crashing against rock, and in the next moment, two giant hands had curled up on either side of him like the shells of an oyster. They provided him some much needed stability to lean his weight against, and he struggled to steady his breathing as relief swept through him.

“It’s okay, Virgil, I won’t let him fall! No cliffs, ands, or buts about it,” Patton’s voice was muffled, but not enough to miss the pun.

Logan sighed loudly, but he also shifted to let his full weight rest against the curl of Patton’s left palm, tapping twice to let him know it was alright for him to move.

His stomach still swooped slightly as Patton slowly shifted his hands away from the thin rock ledge, but there were some things that one had to adapt to when living with two very affectionate, grabby sea giants, and being toted around was one of those things.

Before long, he was level with the flattest segment of rock that made up their meeting place, which could be called an island if one was feeling gracious, but was really more of a collection of rocky spires and bridges that stuck out of the ocean.

Logan was barely able to sit up before Virgil pulled himself up at the edge of Patton’s palm, expression thunderous but his hands gentle as he carefully checked him over for scrapes or injuries.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled, a phrase that he used much more frequently around Logan for some reason. Logan had already been reassured that it was an exaggeration and Virgil had no heart problems he knew of, so instead of worrying, he bore his friend’s fussing with good grace. “Did we or did we not agree that you need a spotter if you want to play around with bullshit sirensong magic?”

The mer paused. “No offense, Pat.”

“None taken!” Patton replied from where he had sunk further into the water to put himself closer to eye-level.

“I figured you would be along shortly,” Logan defended, and then perked up at the reminder of his most recent experiment. “Besides, one of the things tested in this trial was if the siren song could overshadow significant fear or even terror, and I wouldn’t have been nearly as afraid if you’d been there with me.”

“Aw,” Roman cooed, curling his tail up and leaning against one of the larger rock outcroppings, his posture slightly off.

Virgil dragged a hand over his face with a sigh, and then flapped a ‘go on’ gesture at Logan, distracting him. “So, what’d you figure out this time?”

Logan needed no further encouragement.

“Even the lightest application of a siren’s song can overwhelm other emotions,” he started, recalling the utter honed focus he had experienced. “While in the past I’ve felt distant or removed from my body while under its effects, this time I had Patton focus on requesting a very specific task, and due to the intense concentration it took, I was very present in the moment while fulfilling that task.”

“You didn’t snap out of it until I called for you,” Virgil interjected, more curious than wary. “Was it harder than normal to use the grounding tactics?”

One of the first things Logan had investigated was what it took for him to resist and even break free from Patton’s song, a task that Virgil had demanded in order to let him run any experiments with the siren’s magic. Back then, Virgil hadn’t expected Patton to agree, and he’d outright sulked for weeks to cover up the nerves he felt whenever the siren thralled Logan.

“It was,” Logan said, his excitement growing as he considered the new information. “Without significant outside stimulus, all of my attention was focused on the task, and so I couldn’t pull away mentally to do my normal grounding techniques!”

“I’ve never heard someone so excited about being hypnotized better,” Roman commented wryly.

“He should get a hypnoprize,” Patton added, and Virgil grinned, because he was a traitor who enabled Patton’s wordplay habits.

“Is there an award for smart people doing dumb things?” Virgil mused teasingly. “Logan could be voted ‘most likely to throw himself into danger in the pursuit of knowledge.’”

“That’s why he has us, Finding Emo,” Roman countered, gesturing extravagantly with one hand. “We would never abandon him to the cruel clutches of his own nerdiness.”

Logan couldn’t help but feel a thrill of pride at the casual way that Virgil ducked beneath one of Roman’s sweeping gestures, no trace of the blatant fear or suspicion that had been present as recently as a month ago.

They’d really come a long way from the misunderstandings of that first encounter, all of them.

A glint of light at the edge of the shark mer’s submerged forearm caught Logan’s eye, and he frowned. “Roman, what’s happened to your arm?”

Roman’s prideful grin dropped into sheepishness immediately. “Well, about that…”

“Princey here was abandoned to the cruel clutches of his own reckless dumbassery,” Virgil informed him, ignoring Roman’s trill of offense to drift back and shove at the hand in question until Roman finally lifted it, displaying the impressive collection of netting that he’d managed to get tangled in.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Patton clucked sympathetically, and Roman soaked in the attention like a very dramatic sponge. Virgil rolled his eyes even as he sawed at a few of the looser wires, and Logan sighed in fond exasperation as he reached for his pocket knife.

Perhaps some things would never change.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #mermaid au #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #dtttww #dont take this the wrong way #my writing #writing #mermaid #giant mermaid

[phoenixyfriend]

#9 “Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.” with Obi-Wan & Jango & Satine? (... or Obi-Wan/Jango/Satine, I'm not picky)

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Oh, I'm going to make this deeply stupid and AU because I got struck by a plot bunny and I'm taking it out on a prompt.

Satine hates the man named Jango Fett.

They've met before, once or twice. He'd known her father, before the latter's assassination. She'd met Jango when she was a child, before he'd lost his people at Galidraan, before she'd lost her sister to a terrorist group and her father to a blaster shot. She'd thought him gruff but kind, at the time, and very sad.

Now, she just wants him to trip on a pipe and brain himself on one of the many rusted, broken beams around them. She won't strangle him herself, won't turn her back on her oaths and commit violence, but she's not too proud to hope for an accident.

"Pick up the pace, princess."

"I am a Duchess," she snaps, lifting her skirts to step delicately over something that might have been machinery at one point.

The only light they have is from his helmet, and the only reason she hasn't fallen from the fabric catching on some matter or other is that he has a sense for when she gets caught.

He'd suggested that she pull the skirts up to gird her loins, and then found that the numerous layers made it impossible. He'd offered to cut the skirt down to something more manageable, without depriving her of the coverage she still needed in the cold of these darks, dank ruins. He'd then found that the vibroblade did nothing against the skirts.

(She was a pacifist, not stupid. Of course her clothing was reinforced.)

"I don't care," he says back through grit teeth. She's not sure why he hasn't just left her for dead, but she's not going to complain. Much. "Just move."

They've been making their way through the ruins for hours. They still don't know how they got here. They have no way to find out.

They just head up, and hope it gets them somewhere.

(Signs litter the walls, all in a script unfamiliar to them. Archaic, or simply foreign, they don't know.)

"Wait."

She freezes.

Fett moves behind her, light shifting with the noise of his beskar, and then he says, "I'm going to turn out the light for a second. Give us a minute to adjust to the dark after I do. I think I saw something glowing, but I can't tell with the flash on."

She nods, sure that he can see it, and they are engulfed in the dark again.

It's not for long, because the glow that Fett described is real. Faint, far off down the hallway and a pale blue that winks in and out in multiple spots at once, but there.

"We'll need the light to make it there without you getting rust sickness," Fett mutters. He flicks the headlight back on. "Might get some kinda hint out of it, whatever it is."

"You'd risk it?"

"Don't have any other choice," Fett tells her. "Move out, Princess."

----

They reach the blue glow, entering a large, cavernous atrium, just as dark as the rest of the ruins so far, but much less cramped than the previous hallways.

It is mostly floating motes of something, and the something in question makes Satine's skin crawl. She has no idea what it is. She doesn't think Fett does either, but he's a little busy trying to get a scan of the room around them. Satine can just barely see the floor from the blue light, and she steps closer carefully. Part of her screams about deep sea fish and wild space ancients, creatures that use light to hunt, but they've had nothing else yet. No hints.

This place feels ancient. Perhaps the spirits that linger are even older.

"Kryze!"

"I'm fine," she calls back, deliberately refusing to understand the man's worry. She just... reaches out.

And one of the blue lights comes to her.

Fett swears and comes closer, but Satine pulls her hands to her chest, cradling the little light to herself. It's larger than she'd expected, perhaps the size of a Chandrila plum. It's warm, too.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Fett snaps.

"It's friendly," she says. "I think."

"You think," Fett hisses, the noise crackling through the vocoder. He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Listen--"

The lights coalesce. They are, for the moment, blinding, and Satine flinches away.

Fett has a blaster out before Satine can even open her eyes again. She knows the noise better than she'd like. She can identify which blaster it is by the click of the safety alone.

Any Mandalorian her age can.

"Oh dear," an unfamiliar voice says. "I'm afraid that--well, yes, Mando, hello there. I'm afraid that the blaster won't do much to me. I'm already long dead, you understand."

When Satine manages to blink the spots out of her vision, it's to see a glowing, slightly blue-tinged human figure in clothing that is distinctly Jedi, if very... very outdated.

The man--she thinks it's a man, beards usually indicate such--smiles and waves at her. "I apologize for the light show. It's been quite some time since I've had reason to take a solid form."

"I can imagine," Satine says, her voice weak even to her own ears. The man isn't much older than her, or at least wasn't when he... died? Or perhaps he was elderly when he died, and just rolled his age back as this spirit for some reason.

He smiles kindly, and then looks past her shoulder to Fett. He rolls his eyes, and smirks, and says, "Su cuy'gar, Mand'alor."

"I am not Mand'alor," Fett growls out. "I don't hold that title anymore."

"You do in spirit," the figure claims. "None other can say the same, not yet."

Before Fett can argue further, the man smiles pleasantly, and says, "I don't suppose you could remove yourselves from my shrine? Just a few steps back, thank you."

Satine looks down. She notices the raised platform and carved sigils and the stone column she hadn't seen in the earlier darkness, and flushes. She steps back and down, and Fett does the same.

"Now," the figure says. "As I was saying--"

"What are you?" Fett demands. "Ghost of a Jedi?"

"Something like that," the figure allows. "I was not just a Jedi, but... yes, I'm something you could call a ghost. I'd prefer simply a spirit."

"Like the ka'ra," Satine mutters, and grunts in disagreement.

"Those, Duchess, are only Mandalorians."

"Then I suppose it is fitting that I am both," the spirit says, and his form shifts.

Armor. It does not cover all of him--his pelvis and head are distinctly bare--but the shapes are distinctly Mandalorian. The colors aren't quite exact, with the blue glow he carries about him, but she's fairly certain she's seeing blue, green, and black. Reliability, duty, and justice.

Fitting, for a Jedi. The symbol for the Order is on his pauldron, even, and the hilt of his saber hangs easy at his side.

The gasp that comes through Fett's vocoder is harsh. She can't imagine he likes this.

"You--" he cuts himself off, takes a breath audible even past the helmet, and tries again. "There is no way you are Tarre Vizsla."

"No, I'm afraid not."

"So you must be Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The man smiles and tucks his hands into his sleeves, the swinging of the fabric allowing them the glimpse of vambraces beneath. He ducks his head in a shallow nod. "I am indeed."

Satine feels how empty of blood her own face is. She can't imagine Fett is doing much better.

"This is the Kar'ta-yaim be talyc rang," Fett mutters, horrified in a way that Satine feels her own self echoing. "You..."

"Well, we certainly never called it that," Kenobi says, head tilting faintly. "But I imagine that after the siege... Yes, Temple of Bloodied Ash would certainly reflect our final days."

It was one of the few stories that didn't pit Jedi and Mandalorians against each other, in the histories.

It had been the first attempt to coexist, the warriors of the saber and the warriors of iron. None managed to wed the two philosophies the way Kenobi had, but that hadn't mattered. They'd lived together, in peace. The reports had been clear enough, that there hadn't been weapons storage. There hadn't even been real defensive measures, barring the force fields. The Jedi had refused to let war reach this building, even whilst the Sith still raged across the galaxy. The other temples could handle the atrocities afar. The children, the elderly, the infirm, they were all to find a home here. The only weaponry were the sabers and whatever metals the Mando'ade carried in their armor.

Just a place of peace, a home to research, to children, to hospitals, all slaughtered to the last man, and set ablaze after. Nobody had ever tried such an attempt at peace between Mandalore and Jedi since. The location has been lost for longer than anyone remembers, but...

"Why are we here?" Satine asks.

"I wonder," Kenobi says, seeming far too pleased for the revelations of the last minute. He strokes at his beard, and then turns and sweeps an arm across the air. As he does, a whirring noise surrounds them, stuttered and heavy, but growing in power. Bit by bit, the sections of the wall that he'd gestured at begin to glow.

There are lights set into the wall like circuitry, warm and bright. The generators, which much be centuries old, at the least, continue to run.

"They draw energy from the river in the mountain," Kenobi says, before either of them thinks to ask. "Come along, my dears."

Satine hesitates. So does Fett.

Kenobi turns, presumably noting that their footsteps aren't following him. He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Satine can't remember how old he supposedly was, at his death. His eyes are much older, but...

"I assure you, it's perfectly safe," he tells them. "The building won't hurt you."

"The building?" Fett asks, sounding perhaps a little more dubious than the situation warranted. They were already talking to a figure of legend.

"Yes, the building," Kenobi repeats, indulgent in a way that Satine would have found irritating if aimed at her, but rather approved of like this. "The walls are already straightening out, I feel. And the droids are going to be clearing out the debris soon enough. The rust will be a little difficult to manage, of course, but..."

"What do you mean the walls are going to straighten out?" Satine asks. "And how... this place has been dead for centuries, hasn't it? How did you wake it?"

"Duchess Kryze, I didn't wake the Temple," Kenobi tells her. She doesn't know how he got her name. "You did."

She doesn't know what to say in response. She stays quiet, and waits for him to elaborate.

"Is it because she woke you up?" Fett asks, clearly unwilling to play a waiting game. "You're a... guardian? The keyholder to the power?"

"Mand'alor," Kenobi says, with a smile playing on his lips behind the carefully-groomed beard, "I am the Temple."

What.

He smiles and starts walking backwards, gliding in a way that makes it clear he doesn't need to step, really, because his feet don't stay planted where he puts them. They have to follow, now, or risk losing him. "My consciousness, my very self, is woven into every bit of this building. I have no flesh, not anymore, but while my sense of self stays coherent in the Force... the Temple is my body."

"How?" Satine demands, hurrying to keep up. She tries to ignore the way the flagstones shift and settle ahead of her, still and level by the time she steps forward. She tries to ignore the grinding of metal, as it's pulled into the walls like it's soup instead of stone. She tries to ignore the creaking of the foundation about them, and stays focused on the pleasant smile of one of the only two Mandalorian Jedi in history that maintained the balance.

"Do your history books carry the name of my apprentice?" Kenobi asks.

"Skywalker," Fett says immediately. "And... Tano, I think, before she changed it. She escaped, didn't she?"

"Yes, she was away at the time," Kenobi says, voice distant for but a moment. Somewhere far off among the tunnels, there is a mighty crash. "I'd fought until I couldn't any more. My armor, what I had of it, protected me from the flames. I'd worn a helmet during the siege, and it filtered the smoke, even as I lay dying from other wounds... between that and the Force, I lasted long enough that Anakin found me. The others had all died of smoke inhalation, if they hadn't succumbed to their injuries or the flames themselves by that point."

"The fire didn't reach you?" Fett questions.

"Mm, no, the alcove I was in was all stone, and there wasn't anything flammable enough nearby to reach," Kenobi says, sounding distant again. "In any case, Anakin found me. He was... distraught. Desperate. Not entirely sane, I think, but with what he walked into, I can't find it in myself to fault him."

"Master Kenobi," Satine finds herself saying. "What did he do?"

Kenobi's smile is sad. She'd call it resigned, really. He's lived--sort of--with this situation for centuries now. It makes sense. "He took my mind, my soul in the Force, and 'saved' it in a way that would leave me tied to the world past my death. It was ingenious, but... I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I don't think Anakin realized what he was doing until long after he'd already succeeded at the impossible."

"He cursed you," Fett declares.

Kenobi shrugs. "I think he expected the temple to be cleaned and re-inhabited again soon enough. It wasn't, as you can see. The generators have been gathering power for centuries, but the fire destroyed most of them, and we didn't have anything in reserve with how much we poured into the shields during the battle. I couldn't fix the ruins, and with the horrors that had occurred, nobody was coming back. Anakin said he would, he promised, but... he disappeared. He visited, and he spoke with me, but a few years in he was simply... lost. I had a connection to his ship's signal, and it winked out in the blink of an eye, and never came back."

Oh. Terrifying.

"For all that I am the Temple, now, there are still secrets here that I don't yet understand," Kenobi tells them. "Your arrival, for one thing. The sediment carried up the mountain has slowly buried the temple over the centuries. There isn't a way in, save for two tunnels leading to the river, both of which I know are untouched."

"We just woke up here," Satine admits.

"Yes," Kenobi says. "You did. And part of me knows why."

"...part?" Fett asks.

It's a fair question to ask of a man who happens to have a brain that is also an entire building, somehow.

"Areas are cut off from my awareness," Kenobi admits freely. "Cave-ins and the like, mostly. There are one or two that I think I cut deliberately, due to what lay within."

Also terrifying, thank you.

"But I do believe I know what happened," he says, with that same damnably soft smile. "You two are the leaders of your people, yes? Tradition on one side, and peace on the other."

Satine shares a glance with Fett, and then turns to Kenobi and nods.

"Then I do believe it's simply the right time," he tells them. "You'll need to work together."

"I don't think so," Satine immediately denies.

"The Force works in mysterious ways," Kenobi tells her. "And if it brought you here--and you couldn't have arrived otherwise, I promise you that--then it was for a reason. Two leaders, the same people, with ideologies that I do believe are possible to bring together into, if not mixing, then at least coexistence."

"Impossible," Fett says. "The New Mandalorians are cowards, Kenobi. To share a culture with them--"

"Is as unlikely as Jedi and the old Mandalorians?" Kenobi asks, smiling so very politely that Satine wonders at how they aren't frozen stiff at the sight of it.

The sigil of the Order gleams mockingly from his pauldron.

Kenobi huffs out a breath, just a shadow of a laugh the slightest duck of his head, and then he turns and waves open a door.

Beyond him, sitting clean and pretty and entirely free of dust on its ancient stand, rests the Darksaber.

Satine stares.

She's sure Fett does, too.

"That can't be real," she says, her mouth moving before she can control it. "The Darksaber is lost, but it's popped up in history too recently to have been here since the fires."

"I saw it in Tor Vizsla's hands less than a years ago," Fett confirms. The vocoder cuts emotion from his voice, but not enough. "This place has been locked tight for centuries. The saber can't be here."

"The same could be said of the two of you," Kenobi points out.

It's true.

Satine steps forward, when it becomes clear that Fett won't. She picks up the weapon, holds it like the antique it is, square and unwieldy, but so very, very old that she cannot deny its importance. Weapon or not, it is her people's history.

She lights it.

The blade burns black.

"Turn it off," Fett rasps, and she does.

Satine looks back at him, and then to Kenobi. She turns fully, and steps forward, and holds it out to Fett.

He looks at her, uncomprehending.

"If you'd like to check for yourself," she says, and her voice is too quiet, but she can't help it. Something is happening, something heavy and broken, and she can't ignore the pressure of the future in this moment.

Fett takes the saber. He looks at it in his hands, and she thinks he is shaking.

"Your people need you, Mand'alor," Kenobi says, and there is no room for question. "They also need the Duchess."

"Why you?" Fett asks, voice strained and shattered in a way Satine can't even begin to pick apart.

"It was either me or Tarre, really," Kenobi says, with an idle shrug unfitting of the situation. "And I'm a little more... accessible, shall we say, to those who aren't sensitive to the Force."

Kenobi steps forward and rests an immaterial hand on Fett's shoulder.

"I already failed my people once," Fett says, barely audible.

"And now you shall save them," Kenobi says. His voice is firm. It is as if there is no question, to him, about whether or not Fett will succeed. "You won't be alone, either."

Satine shifts her weight, refusing to meet Kenobi's eyes. Her hands fist in her dress, and her mind races.

"What do you need of me?" Fett manages.

"...Mand'alor?"

"What do you need of me, Master Kenobi?"

Satine looks up.

Fett... Fett removes his helmet, and looks at Kenobi with an expression that is more desperation than deference.

"To cooperate with those who would follow a different creed," Kenobi says, so low it's practically a murmur. His hand, still intangible, reaches out to cup Fett's jaw. Fett leans into it. "To protect those who cannot do so for themselves. Our people are warriors, Mand'alor, but to refuse violence for violence's sake, after the wars that have killed our home and rendered it little more than glass, that is its own bravery."

"Master--"

"Listen to me," Kenobi says, and Fett falls silent. "You will need to protect them. The Duchess may have the funds and the support to bring forth education, agriculture, childcare, and so on, but there are many who would take advantage of that peace. She provides the home for tradespeople, but you are the shield that keeps them safe."

It could be a balance, Satine tries to tell herself. Maybe.

Kenobi seems so certain of it, and Satine may hate violence, but she is far from unaware of the pirates and warlords that nip at their borders.

"The foundlings need homes," Kenobi continues. "The stories need to be told. The culture is fading, Mand'alor. Bring it back."

His eyes flick to Satine, and she looks away.

(Her pressure was only ever on violence. Her advisors had pressed at the erasure of the rest, but if it meant children grew up without the worry of their parents dying in pointless battle, then wasn't it worth bending?)

(Couldn't she look the other way as they tightened restrictions on even symbolic vambraces, if it meant few too-small bodies in the streets?)

(Her planet was a wasteland. What did culture mean in the face of so many dead?)

(She knows Fett doesn't see it that way, but she is the only governing New Mandalorian with any blood on their hands. She knows the weight of violence, of lives taken by her actions.)

(She knows it, and she rejects it knowingly.)

Fett breathes harshly, and Satine closes her eyes.

"I agree to try," she says. "If we can get out of these ruins and back to our people... I will try. I cannot speak for my people on this, but to instate the old Mandalorians as a planetary guard... it may be doable."

"Little steps, my dear," Kenobi says. He looks down at Fett, who's... not well, it seems. "The Mand'alor needs some help, I think. I'm no trained mind healer, but I imagine I can help. More than most, maybe. There are few who know what it is to be a sole survivor."

He smirks, just a little, at the joke that he is not, in fact, a man who survived.

It's not very funny.

"I'll stay," Fett says. "I'll... I'll learn. Master Kenobi, you... Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me."

"As a student?" Kenobi asks, catching on to just the same thing as Satine has. "Not in the Force, surely, but... you truly wish to stay?"

"There are none left alive that I would trust to show me the way," Fett says. Beseeching, he reaches for Kenobi, and his hands pass through. There's a pain in him that Satine can't quite comprehend, and Fett falls to his knees. "Please."

"You need only ask," Kenobi says. "The Duchess will look after our people until the King takes his throne, and then you will rule together."

They'll have to, Satine tells herself, and steps forward. She puts a hand on Fett's shoulder, and pulls him to his feet.

"Where do we begin?" she asks.

#satine kryze #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #ghosts #massacre mention #is this vaguely inspired by GLaDOS and Castle Heterodyne? ...yes #but less murdery overall #star wars #the clone wars #Phoenix Answers Memes #supernatural au #kinda #one shot #death mention #child death mention #horror au #also kinda

[jeontaeil-archived]

After Hours

Pairing: CEO!Yeonjun x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut; Fem Receiving, Blowjob, Face Fucking, Choking, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex

Words: 2.19k+

Warnings: 18+ content

⋆ 8 o’clock. The time when all your colleagues bid each other farewell and expectantly head home for the weekend while you and Yeonjun lock the doors of his office to have some fun of your own⋆

It was a Friday. The last working day before the weekend began. Everyone’s eyes impatiently darted between their work and the clock. It was only a matter of seconds before it would be time to go home. 

You too were anxious for the day to come to an end. The past few days had been incredibly demanding. Hours and hours of meetings along with late night business calls. Not to mention the fact that you were running on a cumulated 11 hours of sleep. Any more work and you were certain your brain would turn to mush. 

Soon enough, but no doubt what had felt like ages of waiting, the clock struck 8. Everyone was up and out of their chairs within the blink of an eye, more than eager to return to the comfort of their homes after a deadeningly tiring week.

Grabbing your coat and bag you waited for everyone to enter the elevator, before walking in the opposite direction, round the corner, up the stairs and straight towards your boss’ office. Before you entered, you looked around to make sure no one had seen you. 

Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open, revealing none other than your boss, Mr. Choi Yeonjun.

He wore a proud smirk, eyes raking over your figure authoritatively. He glanced at his watch and finally met your gaze. “You’re late. I thought I would’ve had to come down there to get you myself. You know how much I hate waiting," he spoke distastefully. You weren’t one to be fooled by his tone. It was common knowledge that if he wasn’t talking business, he was just being sarcastic. Still, it was in your best interest to play along. You knew how much he hated people who acted out of place. 

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Yeonjun smirked, stepping aside to make way for you. “You may enter. But please be reminded that I won’t be so lenient next time.”

Once you were past the threshold of his door, he slammed it shut and pushed you against it, that same cunning smirk glued on his lips as he caged you between the door and his body. “I’m being serious,” he said, voice dangerously low. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to get you in here. Feels like an eternity.” He delicately traced the outline of your face, intently watching the way you impulsively leaned into his touch.

“Tell me, are you as eager to see me?”

Dropping your bag and coat on the floor, you nodded, eyes following his own. 

Yeonjun carefully let out a deep breath. He dragged his finger along your jaw and down your neck. You felt him gently caress your nape, skin warm against your own. He raised his head as he slowly wrapped his fingers around your throat. “Use your words darling.”

Lips pursed, you swallowed nervously. An impulsive reaction to the way he held you. “I am, sir.” 

You felt small underneath his strong stare. He was so intimidating. Even though you knew he wasn’t going to hurt you, there was no way you were going to defy him. He was the one in charge and you would never challenge that. 

Satisfied with your answer, he gently squeezed your throat and soon let go. 

“I know you’d never lie to me. Still, I want to be certain. May I check to see if you’re being truthful?”

You didn’t know what he was playing at but you nodded nonetheless. “Yes sir. You may.” 

Yeonjun smiled, glad that you’d given him the greenlight. His fingers raked up your thigh, pushing your skirt up along the way. He ran his hand over the inside of your thigh, sending a burst of warmth through your body. You felt like shutting your thighs together, but you knew better than to do so. His fingers ghosted over your panties, material undoubtedly soaked from all the time you’d spent anticipating this very moment. He could feel your wetness. He could sense your desire for him and his touch. But before he rewarded you for your candor, he wanted to see just how much you’d been aching for him. It was essential for him to assess how much you deserved to be pleased. 

He pushed his hand into your panties, dipping his finger between your folds. He raised a brow as your arousal coated his finger, delighted with what he felt. 

“It must’ve been hell. Sitting behind that computer for so long while thinking about all the things you want me to do to you. Isn’t that right?”

There was no error in his judgement, and he was very much aware of that. You had spent quite a few days waiting for this moment and you were mighty pleased that it was finally here. 

Yeonjun removed his hand from your pantied and brought his glistening finger to your lips. “Open up, y/n. You’re in for a lot tonight.” He pushed his finger into your mouth, making sure you’d cleaned your arousal off of it before pulling it back out. He leaned closer to you, lips ghosting over your own as his fingers slowly unbuttoned your blouse. 

You wanted to kiss him so bad even though you knew you couldn’t. You needed to be patient in order to get what you wanted. He pulled your blouse off your shoulders and undid your bra with a quick snap of his fingers. As soon as your breasts were free his hands were on them. He pinched your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you suck in a sharp breath. You rubbed your thighs together, dreading how slow he was taking things. Yeonjun chuckled darkly when he noticed this. “Do you need me to hurry up? Don’t worry, baby, I was just about to get to that.” He unzipped your skirt and pulled it down along with your panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him. 

He kneeled before you, staring into your eyes as his mouth closed in on your pussy. A loud moan left your mouth almost immediately. Yeonjun hummed, sending a wave of intense vibrations through your core. “Keep your eyes on me," he instructed, returning to your heat. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Of course he would make it difficult for you. You fought to keep your eyes from rolling back. The pleasure was too strong for you to resist. Furrowing your brows, you urged yourself to hold his stare. You could clearly see how much he was enjoying your struggle. 

His tongue ran between your folds and circled your clit. You swore if he kept it up you were going to cum any moment now. He had a tight grip on your hips, keeping them in place. His chin was already wet with your juices. Your lids started getting heavy as you felt a knot begin to form in your stomach. It was becoming harder and harder for you to focus on Yeonjun.  “Ahh fuck, I’m gonna cum, sir.” You were practically screaming at this point. Yeonjun speedened the pace of his tongue. He was eating you out as if he’d been starved for days. With one final suck to your clit, you felt your orgasm hit. Wetness gushed down your walls and onto Yeonjun’s face. He groaned in satisfaction, shutting his eyes and greedily licking up all of your arousal. A string of curses left your mouth as he lapped up all your juices. All this waiting had definitely been worth it.

Yeonjun pulled away from your core and stood up, wiping his chin with a grin. “Such a pretty face but such a filthy mouth," he muttered, almost growling at your flushed expression. Heaving, you gasped as he pushed you down on your knees. He quickly undid his buckle and freed his cock from its restraints. 

You’d seen Yeonjun’s manhood many times before. But its sheer size never failed to make your mouth go dry. His tip glistened with precum, a clear indication of how much he’d been holding himself back. He pumped his cock impatiently and pressed his tip to your lips. “I don’t think I need to tell you what to do. Open up. I’m not done with you yet.” He shoved his cock into your mouth, groaning as you ran your tongue over his length. He was certainly a mouthful. You could barely fit all of him in your mouth. Yeonjun knew this but he didn’t care. If you were going to take his cock then you’d have to take all of it. 

He then pulled out entirely, spat on his palm, and slicked his cock up before pushing it back into your mouth. He also grabbed your head and pulled it further over his length. “Fuck you look so hot with my cock stuffed in your mouth.” He grunted, bucking his hips into your mouth. The sudden action made you gag. Yeonjun groaned as your throat convulsed around his tip. “If you want me to fuck you then you’ve gotta take me properly. Don’t act like you’re doing this for the first time," he reminded, continuing to ram his hips into your face. Your jaw went slack with how forceful he was being. Yeonjun was always rough, but for some reason you could never get used to it. He literally used you like a cum doll, not that you minded or anything. 

Tears welled in your eyes as he ruthlessly fucked your mouth. He was chasing his high. With the pace he’d set you were sure he wasn’t too far from it. Before you knew it his cock twitched in your mouth and soon enough, hot ropes of his cum shot down your throat. Yeonjun’s hips stilled as he emptied his seed into you. He finally pulled out of you and brought you to your feet again. 

A bit of his cum had dribbled onto your chin, which he pushed back into your mouth. “Make sure you swallow it all babe. Don’t let a single drop go to waste.”

You did as he said, shuddering at the salty taste. He brought you over to his desk, bending you over the edge. He leaned down to your ear, eagerly rubbing your ass. “I hope you can still go for another round. I’m still not done with you darling.” He rubbed his tip against your folds. You were surprised by how quickly he’d hardened up again. It seemed you weren’t the only one who’d been counting down the days till this night. “Are you ready?” he asked, tip pushing into your walls. “Yes, sir," you answered, looking behind your back. You gasped as he entered you, giving your walls a delicious stretch. “So tight for me," he said, fingers digging into the skin of your ass. Once he’d bottomed out and given you enough time to adjust, he began hammering his hips into you. Thank god it was just the two of you. The sounds of skin slapping against each other and your loud moans filled the room. “Holy shit, sir, you fuck me so well.”

Yeonjun snickered at your words and pulled your back up to his chest, wrapping his hand around your neck. He choked you, effectively muffling your moans. “I know I do. Don’t you just love it when I make you cry with my cock?” His thrusts were nice and strong, indeed making you cry out in absolute pleasure. This was extremely worth it. You’d never felt as good as you felt right now. Yeonjun could say the same for himself. He loved the way your walls wrapped around his length, so warm and tight. Your desperate moans were practically music to his ears. He could hear you screaming for hours, especially if it was because of his cock. 

It didn’t take long for you to feel your second orgasm build up. The faster he fucked you, the quicker he pushed you to your high. Yeonjun felt your walls clench around his cock. “You aren’t cumming yet," he grunted, never stilling his pace. You groaned and willed yourself to go on a bit longer. “Just a little longer. I know you can wait a bit.”

You weren’t too sure about that. He was racing to reach his own orgasm. His efforts were making it far too difficult for you to do as he’d instructed. “I can’t hold it in any longer, sir. I’m going to cum.” 

Just as your orgasm hit, Yeonjun pulled you back onto his cock, groaning loudly. He’d caught up with you successfully. He slowly pushed his hips into you, helping you ride out your high as well as his own. Your heart hammered in your chest as you came down from your climax. It was perfect.

Yeonjun pulled out of you and went to retrieve your clothes for you. “I hope you enjoyed yourself," he said as you dressed yourselves. “I did sir. I always do," you shared with a shy smile. It was always a bit awkward between you both once your rendezvous had ended. 

“Good. I’ll see you next week then?”

“As always sir.”

#yeonjun smut #txt smut #kpop smut #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #hoehousenet

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

curtain call, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You know that TikTok trend where girls would drop their towels in front of their gamer boyfriends? As expected, Min Yoongi didn’t until he was informed by his six troublemaking friends. In this case, his girlfriend was the pro streamer and he was the guy in the towel... so what’s the result?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; sexually explicit thoughts; smut (fem reader, handjob, cowgirl); very fluffy; non-idol!AU - established relationship, music producer!Yoongi x LoL streamer!reader

-

“Hahaha, oh my god, chat, did you see that? He bounced so many times from the CC, he literally went sky, holy shit!”

Min Yoongi opened the front door of his apartment to the jovial, laughing voice of his girlfriend. He shut the door, smiling to himself. Her streaming room was in the extra bedroom. The door was open, and he could see the bright RGB lights of her computer tower reflecting off the walls. He took off his black coat, placing it on the hanger in the hall closet.

“Stop cursing because it’s not ladylike?” He heard her scoff. “No, fuck you.”

Yoongi smirked. That’s my girl.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket, scrolling through social media. His friends always told him to reply to their posts, but Yoongi was a lurker. The only reason he even had any social media was because his friends set it up for him. He literally only followed six people – his six friends. Everyone else he just stalked from memory, even his own girlfriend. Mostly because he didn’t want random people following him for no reason, because they most certainly would with how popular she was.

When she had asked him what he thought of her full-time video game streaming, Yoongi told her to go for it. She had been obsessed with League of Legends for over nine years, even before she met him. At their first date, she first question was if he knew what League of Legends was.

“Uh… I got to Gold in season 2?”

Later, she told him his answer had seriously tilted her and she even considered not going on a second date.

“But you did. Because of this face.”

She had laughed and nodded.

She had been playing solo queue for a long time. When she finally started streaming her games, her channel grew slowly. She would immediately start playing after she got home from work. Hours and hours, growing a fanbase. Yoongi later learned she was startlingly good – “I was Master for a long time, got Grandmaster this season” – and when she asked him if she could quit her job, he pointed to her bank statements.

“Do you even need to ask? You might make more than me at one point and I’m Big Hit’s top music producer.”

And she did end up making more than him, at least some months, because the team that picked her up as a content creator this year was none other than T1, the most beloved (and hated) organization in Korea. Had she ever met Faker? No, but it was cool to say she was under the same umbrella as him.

Yoongi rounded the corner, knocking his knuckles on the doorframe.

“Hey.”

-

You looked up from your game, grinning. Twitch chat had just said some dumb shit, but your eyes were on Min Yoongi now. The love of your life, standing in the doorframe, looking amused at your antics and dressed sharply in a white dress shirt and black slacks with a matching black tie. Very different to your black T1 hoodie and sweats.

“Whoa, fancy, fancy,” you teased, eyes going back to the game. You pushed back one of your headset’s earcups to hear him better. You clicked rapidly, autoattacking the towers swiftly. You were about to win after a hectic Baron fight. “Why are you dressed like that, Yoongi?”

Your chat was exploding with cat emojis. They had only seen Yoongi a few times and someone had compared him to a cat once. It stuck and now every time Yoongi spoke, your chat was spammed with cats. You even had a custom white cat emote made with Yoongi’s signature black hair.

Yoongi appeared next to you on the cam, only his slacks and bottom of his shirt visible next to you. He patted your head.

“Meeting today,” he said simply in his lovely deep voice. The chat was exploding due to Yoongi’s appearance. Everyone was thirsty for him. You couldn’t blame them. You too. “Looks like T1 Curtain Call is kicking ass.”

You fired the last shot at the Nexus, earning fifty gold. Was it necessary since that was the end of the game? Absolutely not, but it gave you bragging rights. You sat back, smirking. You were in your promos to Challenger, the highest rank in the ladder. It would be really exciting if you could make it to Challenger this season.

You turned to Yoongi as you honored your support Nami. “Chat wants you to say hi.”

Yoongi stuck his large hand out in front of the camera and waved it once. “Hey everyone.”

You chuckled as Yoongi retreated his hand. You clicked on the stats for the chat to read before reentering the lobby. T1 Curtain Call. That was your in-game name, or IGN. It was named after your favorite champion, Jhin, the Virtuoso, mercenary gunman with a sniper ultimate and an obsession with the number four. Your IGN was Jhin’s ultimate ability name. You were an attack-damage carry main, also known as ADC.

You felt Yoongi ruffle your hair, messing it up under your headset.

“Going to take a shower before making dinner. Bye, chat.”

Yoongi stuck his hand in the screen again, right in front of your face.

You leaned forward to read the chat as you queued up. It was going to be a long queue, so you answered questions in the meantime.

“Ask Yoongi to play with you?” You chuckled. “Trust me guys, I’ve tried, even if it was just normals. He’s confused as shit.”

-

Yoongi worked the shampoo in his hair, feeling the hot water hit his back. Before getting into the shower, Yoongi had gotten multiple texts from the group chat. Normally he would ignore them, because he always ignored the group chat. This time, however, he saw his girlfriend’s name pop up in the texts, along with his name with multiple exclamation points. He frowned at it, opening the chat. He did not like his friends typing her name heedlessly.

It was some dumb TikTok trend.

“Hyung, you gotta do this to noona,” Jeon Jungkook had typed with multiple ‘kekekeke’ behind it. The youngest was an idiot for even suggesting this.

“Please do it,” Kim Taehyung typed with multiple laughing emojis.

“I want to know her reaction,” Park Jimin typed with a bunch of winking faces.

“The fuck is this?” Kim Seokjin had typed. “Oh my god, you have to do it, Yoongi.”

“But don’t film it,” Kim Namjoon warned. “Don’t want to make her look bad or anything.”

Jung Hoseok had just typed multiple laughing symbols. Yoongi could hear him laughing through the phone even if he wasn’t here.

It was a stupid trend where girls wrapped themselves in towels after a shower and then dropped said towels in front of their gamer boyfriends while they were playing, with varying reactions. Yoongi had sighed, putting his phone down. He shouldn’t have clicked on the chat. Those guys were loons. Besides, his role was reversed in his situation. A guy’s flaccid dick was a thousand times less interesting than his girlfriend’s perky tits and round ass. And her squeezable thighs. And her glistening pussy.

Yoongi rinsed his hair off, muttering to himself.

Why would he even consider distracting her like that anyway? He rubbed soap on his arms and legs. She took her games seriously and Yoongi wanted her to win them. It would just be dumb to be the reason that she dies in game. It was her job, after all. It was true they had less sex, but that was also partially his fault. He had been working on an album and it ran long hours. He had to finish before the deadline after all. Yes, sometimes Yoongi woke up late at night with a massive hard-on and her warm body next to him, only in her underwear. Sometimes he took her hand and wrapped it around him, considering on waking her up to do it.

But her peaceful, sleepy face was too cute to wake up, so he never did.

Yoongi puffed his cheeks as he rinsed off, thinning his mouth and eyes into lines. They used to mess around, right here in the shower, where he would jerk off on her face and chest, just to watch it drip down her body. He could see her pretty face in his mind, cum sprayed across her cheeks and chin, mischievous smile on her lips. They had different schedules now, so she always showered before her stream, while he was at work.

Yoongi clicked his tongue and turned the water off, body still hot. He grabbed the white towel from the rack and dried his hair, making it stick up in every direction. He rubbed himself down, wicking the water away. It made him remember how her hair used to stick to her body after their shared showers and how he would lift it away to play with her nipples.

He huffed, seeing his phone on the bathroom sink. His friends needed help. How could they even suggest such nonsen–

Yoongi tried to wrap his towel around his waist. He could feel a draft. He looked down, raising his eyebrows.

His dick was pitching a music-festival, VIP-member-only sized tent.

Well.

He pursed his lips. He shouldn’t be that surprised. He had literally been thinking about his girlfriend’s naked body the entire time. His eyes glanced to his phone once again before he opened the bathroom door. He heard her sigh loudly.

“Noooo, that’s the third dodge! Am I ever going to play a game, chat?” she whined.

Yoongi padded out into the hallway. Technically he was already halfway there. Might as well. Was this the stupidest shit he was ever going to do? Maybe. But she wasn’t going to expect it, that’s for sure. The thought made Yoongi smirk.

“When is Jungkook going to duo with me again? I don’t know guys; he said he has finals soon so he has to focus on school.” He heard her click her tongue. “Get him on cam again? Oh, I see, that’s what you all wanted... At least let him get through university.”

Yoongi stopped at the doorframe. Her hands were on her chin and she was sighing, looking depressed at her long queue time.

“Ah, so unlucky. It must be everyone’s dinnertime.”

He called her name in the same tone he usually used.

Her head lifted and her eyes floated in his direction.

Yoongi dropped the towel.

In less than a second, her eyes grew three sizes, jaw dropping. His wet hair stuck to his forehead, shading his eyes a bit. He cocked an eyebrow, slow smirk on his lips.

“Anything you want for dinner?”

-

What.

The.

FUCK?

You heard your queue pop, but you were frozen in place, gawking open-mouthed at your boyfriend standing in the doorframe of your streaming room, butt-ass naked, cock hard as a rock, towel on the ground. Did he just..? What the…? This was Min Yoongi. Your mild-mannered, somewhat-lazy, preferred-to-be-asleep boyfriend. Not suddenly-trying-to-send-you-to-horny-jail-in-front-of-three-thousand viewers boyfriend! You blinked at him, stuttering.

“Y-Yoongi…?”

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. Your voice was a little too breathless, a little too shocked. And slightly too needy for Twitch chat. Your face was heating up fast. You whipped your head back to the screen, realizing you missed the queue. At this point, you didn’t give a single shit.

“You know what, guys,” you said shakily, laughing awkwardly. “I better help Yoongi with dinner and be a good girlfriend.” You rose, feeling the wetness between your legs. “See you tomorrow!”

And you immediately turned off the stream, fuck, you turned off your whole damn computer, mashing the power button, and throwing one of your spare hoodies over the webcam. You exploded from your T1 gaming chair, literally shooting it back three feet into the League plushes behind you, ripping your headset off, tossing it onto the keyboard. Yoongi looked surprised, as if he expected you to be demurer about it.

Yeah, that’s not kind of woman you were.

“Min Yoon-gi,” you hissed, stressing every syllable of his name. “How the fuck do you think you can just show up naked and not expect me to want to immediately fuck you?”

Yoongi chuckled. “I wanted to see your reaction.”

You narrowed your eyes, pressing him against the door with your body. “You don’t watch TikTok. Who put you up to this? Jimin? Taehyung? Jungkook?”

His voice was low and husky. “You know the mankae line are trouble.”

Your hand snaked up into his damp hair and you pulled him down for a sensual kiss. His soft, pink lips parted and you nipped at his lower lip, grinding deliciously into his hard cock. Your sweatpants and underwear were in the way, but you moaned into his mouth, tongue grazing against his lips.

Mentally, you thanked the three mankaes for giving Yoongi this wonderful idea.

He breathed against your lips, smirking.

“How many pieces of clothing are you wearing?” he purred.

You grinned into his kiss, tongue between your teeth. “Four.”

“On brand for you.”

And then you two stumbled into the hallway, Yoongi’s hands on the hem of your hoodie, pushing it up as you kissed him over and over, whispering his name, telling him how handsome he was, how perfectly sexy he was with his wet hair and soft skin. His lips curved upwards under yours, basking in your compliments, drinking them up.

“Count for me,” he drawled, pulling the black T1 hoodie up.

You slipped out of it, sliding down, hands splaying over Yoongi’s chest.

“One.”

He tossed it aside as your hand wrapped around his cock. A sharp gasp left his lips feeling you stroke him slowly, your hand snaking around his neck and bringing his face close to yours, lips on lips. His hands curled around your waist, moving up, grasping the hook-and-eye of your black bra. All the while slowly making your way to the bedroom, nipping at his lips, sucking on his tongue.

Yoongi pinched, releasing your bra. You released his cock, letting it slide off your shoulders.

“Two,” you moaned, feeling his hands on your breasts, rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

“Hah, your body is so fucking hot,” Yoongi murmured. “Missed fucking you.”

You snickered, licking his lips. “Why don’t you actually try to wake me up for once instead of using my hand to jack yourself off at two in the morning?”

His dark brown eyes went wide, shock creeping into his voice. “W-what? How did you…?”

You pushed him through the doorframe of the bedroom. “You think I don’t notice your dick in my hands?” You reached down now, gripping it again, sighing softly at his hardness. “I’m a light sleeper.”

He sputtered at you, fingers curling under the waistband of your sweatpants. “No, you’re not.”

You grinned. “Yeah, you’re right, but this your cock we’re talking about, and I love your cock, Yoongi, fuck,” you continued, pumping him slowly as you felt his length twitch in your hands, his hands pushing down your pants, sliding down your legs.

“Three,” he breathed softly.

You took his larger hand and wrapped it around yours, stepping out of your pants.

“Go on, Yoongi. Show me what you do when you think I’m asleep,” you said softly, nudging him to the bed and laying him down, down, crawling over him, staring into his beautiful dark eyes, falling more and more in love with him every second. Yoongi bit his lip, looking back at you, shifting your hand up and down his cock, whimpering as he jacked himself off, but with your hand and your eyes on him.

“Fuck, you look so pretty,” he mumbled. “Such perfectly shaped eyes.”

You leaned down, squeezing him a little harder, a tiny gasp brushing against your lips. “That’s you, my love.”

He smirked, his free hand hooking on the side of your panties.

“Hit me with the fourth shot,” Yoongi teased, grinning.

You kissed him lightly, smiling. “That’s going to be a critical hit.”

“Better be a critical hit all over my dick.”

You laughed, reaching over to the nightstand and pulling out the drawer, taking out a condom. The two of you pulled down your black panties, Yoongi completing the final number.

“Four,” he exhaled, nearly moaning at the sight of your juices snapping against your thigh.

“Me on top?” you asked, ripping the condom open.

Yoongi’s naughty smirk grew. “You do love me.”

You slid the condom down his length, both of you gasping as his cock throbbed in your hands. You slid up, holding him with two fingers as you sank down on him, tipping your head back at the feeling of Yoongi’s cock buried deep inside.

“I’ve determined we don’t fuck enough,” you muttered, rolling your hips at the delicious sensation of being stretched out by your lover.

“I should wake up earlier,” Yoongi hissed, hands twisting in the sheets. “So we can shower together again.”

“You miss that?” You began to move, riding him deliberately slow but rough, slapping your hips together. You were leaking all over his crotch and balls, adding to the sound. “Miss me on my knees for you, wet from head to toe?”

“Hah… I was thinking about it in the shower,” he panted, feeling you lean down to change the angle, rolling the entire lower half of your body to fuck him hard, fast, intensely squeezing his cock at every descent. “You look so good covered in my cum, my love.”

You smirked, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah? Take some pictures. Show your friends.”

Yoongi laughed, that attractive raspy laugh that showed his pink gums and his pretty white teeth as you rode him, chasing your orgasm and determined to get him to his. “They fucking wish they could see this body,” he growled, a touch of possessiveness in his voice that made your spine shiver deliciously. “Bet they wish they could see you riding my dick right now, your perfect tits and ass bouncing on top of me.”

You clenched him harder and he moaned, head pressed into the pillows, eyes closing, drowning in the feeling of you.

“Ask them,” you snickered. “I already know Jimin’s answer.”

Yoongi gave you an open-mouthed smirk. “That fucking pervert.”

You slammed your hips together tightening your jaw and your core, sucking in his entire length, every contour imprinted into you, every vein pulsing into your walls, Yoongi so fucked out and gone under you, the best image in the entire fucking world. You leaned your head back, gasping triumphantly as the pleasure finally dropped, showering over you, your hips shaking, pussy throbbing all around him, splattering onto his crotch. Yoongi groaned, smacking his fists against the sheets as he shot up into you, cock swelling against your walls, choking out your name due to the strength of your orgasm. You felt your pussy milking him for every drop, draining him. Yoongi’s hips jerked involuntarily up towards you, squelching loudly and lewdly.

Fuck, you loved him.

You bent down, hand between your bodies, holding the condom down as you kissed his open mouth, tongue sliding in to stroke his, murmuring to him how much you loved him. Yoongi panted into your lips, hot erotic breaths that made you moan as you slowly removed yourself from his softening cock. He opened his eyes, half-lidded, drunk with pleasure. His voice was breathless, content.

“I love you.”

You smirked.

“Drop your towel some more, but maybe when I’m not live streaming.”

Yoongi laughed and you laughed too, because in the end it was still hilarious.

-

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

[eliemo]

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

#spiderman virgil #deadpool remus #superhero au #spiderman au #spideypool #dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #violence tw #sex jokes #remus being remus #blood tw #injury #sanders sides #fanfiction #writing

[cazimagines]

Oblivious

Request from anon: Hi, I really enjoy your writing, particularly your Zemo fics! I had an idea for one that basically follows the while y/n joining Sam, Bucky, and Zemo through Madirpoor and Riga. Only despite Zemo’s flirting, y/n doesn’t really do anything about it or even notice until y/n along with Sam and Bucky witness Walker (New Captian America) murder a flag smasher in the street. They all go back to the safe house and y/n is like, in shock. “Captian America just killed someone” is all y/n can really say. And Zemo is able to calm them down. Maybe the romance can start then?

Word count: 3.4k

Author’s note: This one-shot can be multiple parts, if you would like to see a sequel please say! If I do decide to write a sequel though it will take me a while as I’ve had a lot of requests, please check out my master list to see what I have coming up next and if requests are currently open or not

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Heels clicked along the pavement as you sashayed along the road, approaching the men before you, two of which you know fondly. The other one, however... not so much.

They all stood close together in a circle, obviously discussing something important but at hearing your voice call out their heads turn towards you, a smile appearing on Sam and Bucky’s faces as they see you. “Long time no see boys,” you say, stopping a few feet away from them to lean on a wall.

They both walk over to you, Bucky pulling you into and hug then followed by Sam hugging you tightly. “Thank you for agreeing to help us out y/n. I know things haven’t been easy for you,”

You fake a smile at Bucky, one you hoped he wouldn’t see past resting your arm around his shoulder. “Anything for my friends,”

He was right, though. These times haven’t been easy for you, especially after Steve Rodgers left. Captain America had always been your idol, ever since you were a little kid you aspired to be just like him. You collected all the Captain America merchandise along with your brother Phil, always arguing with him who owned which toy of his. Meeting Steve had been a dream come true for you. He was the person you were closest to. He helped you come to terms with your brother’s death and whenever you needed help; he was there. You two stuck together through the thick and thin. That’s was how you got to become good friends with Sam and Bucky. You and Steve have always had a complicated relationship, though. You two liked each other and tried to see if you could be something more, but it never seemed to work out. Then Thanos happened. You, along with half the universe, were dusted. For you it was as if you had simply blinked however for Steve it was five years without you. You barely got to see each other again before he went away for good. You couldn’t hate him for it, you understood why he did what he did. He was always telling you about the ’40s, about his childhood, about her. You just wished you weren’t so connected with him. Seeing him there, old, dying. It broke your heart. But times move on. You can’t live in the past as he did.

Your eyes focus on the man behind Sam and Bucky and you frown, pulling your arm away from Bucky. A man you never thought you would see again was staring right back at you.

He stood a few feet back, knowing he wasn’t welcomed in the warm reunion of friendship. He clasped his hands, unsure what exactly he should do right now, feeling awkward, but as he looked over at you his eyes twinkled with recognition. Now you had been interesting to him. You weren’t a super soldier like Steve and James. Yet you certainly could hold your own against them. He had seen when he had first activated James. No, your strength and fighting abilities were down to your own human powers and he admired that. You were one of the few avengers he might have had an inkling to like if the Sokovia attack never happened. Still, it wasn’t as if you were to blame for it. The people who were to blame had suffered for it. You were merely the pawn in the giant game of chess. Perhaps he could grow to like you, after all, he could admit you were certainly tempting to him, the way your body was shaped excited him, the way your neck was shaped made him want to brush his fingers along it and your piercing eyes felt like they could look into the darkest corners of his soul.

“Why is he out of prison?” you snap, bringing Zemo out of his trance

Sam turns to scowl at Bucky as you all turn to Zemo, who awkwardly smiles. “Bucky thinks we need him,” Sam mutters

“Why would we need him!” you exclaim, crossing your arms and shooting Bucky a glare.

“I am invaluable,” Zemo explains with his hands, his eyes unwavering from you as he answers for Bucky.

“He hates super-soldiers, therefore he will help us in getting to Karli,” Bucky says, stepping in front of your eyesight trying to explain himself.

“That also means he hates you, Buck,”

All of them freeze as you address the elephant in the room. Bucky grits his teeth and steps back, averting your gaze as you and Sam stare expectedly at him but he doesn’t respond so Zemo takes his opportunity to step closer to you, now only a few feet apart.

“I can assure you, getting rid of Karli and her super soldier friends is my priority. Not James,”

You clench your jaw in anger as you look at Zemo. He tilts his head, the side of his lip curling up slightly, hoping you’d take a chance on him. Sighing, you turn to shoot one more look at Bucky.

“Steve wouldn’t have liked this,”

Later you sat across from Zemo on his private jet. All of you sat in uncomfortable silence as you flew to Madripoor. Sam and Bucky did not seem as close as you were to both of them. They both just sat on their respective sides and looked out the window. Zemo had a book on him which he seemed very preoccupied reading, yet there were moments where you could feel his eyes settle upon you. Ignoring his inquisitive gaze, you choose to follow in Bucky and Sam’s lead of looking out the window and daydream the rest of the trip away.

Your mind trails back to Steve. You wondered just what Steve would have thought about you teaming up with Zemo. He would have understood, wouldn’t he? It was the best option you had. Ah, but he had always been such a stickler about the rules. Breaking a criminal out and helping him avoid the law wasn’t very patriotic of you. Yep, he would not have gone through with this plan, he would have found another way that worked. But none of the people here were him. He choose not to be here. You knew you had to let him go.

“Champagne?”

You pull your eyes away from the window, coming back to reality as you see a bottle of champagne in Zemo’s hand and an empty glass in his other hand. He already had another glass full beside him as he looked at you expectantly.

“No,”

“Sure?”

“What part of no do you not understand,” you snap harshly glaring at him then back out to the window

“My apologies,” he says, pursing his lips together as he looks down at the empty glass. He glances over to Sam and Bucky but they both shake their heads as well so he hands the glass and drinks back to his butler and sighs as he opens his book again.

The tension between all of you sticks around as you arrive at Madripoor. Zemo had provided you a tight-fitting dress to ‘appear the part’ of your allice, and it showed off a bit too much of your chest than you liked. It was too bright for you, golden and sparky, cutting off at your upper tight, and had a very low v cut. You try your best to pull it down to cover you some more but to no avail. Begrudgingly, you leave the plane to meet up with the rest of them.

“My my y/n, the dress suits you,” Zemo says, smirking as his eyes trail up and down your body as you walk past him taking a straight beeline towards Sam and Bucky.

“How long will this mission take?” you ask, already feeling the cold air nip at your skin.

“Few hours at the least. I’m sorry that you have to do this, y/n”

“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to help you two,” you mutter as you hear a car pulling up behind you

“Not exactly this though,” Bucky grumbles, glowering over at Zemo who motions to the car that had arrived. Zemo opens the door and waits for you to get in however you walk to the other side of the car and get in. Bucky chuckles at Zemo’s annoyed expression as he instead gets into the side, which Zemo held open.

During the mission, Zemo kept getting uncomfortably close to you. Occasionally his hand brushed against your back as he moved past you, or his hand would bump into yours slightly, lingering against yours longer than normal.

You knew why he was doing this. Because of Steve. He knew how close you and Steve were, everyone did. During the fight between Steve and Tony which Zemo had helped cause you stuck by Steve every second. Now that Steve was gone, Zemo was trying to rub that in. Trying to irritate you on purpose. You would not let him get to you.

During the meeting with Selby you stood off to the side with Sam and you were feeling pretty good about yourself that the mission was going well until Sam’s phone rang. You tried to keep cool while also giving Sam the wtf look as to why he didn’t put his phone on silent. You hung out hoping things would go okay, but today wasn’t your day.

Shelby got gunned down in front of you, and the mission was ruined. Running in heels wasn’t ideal, but you had to make do. You followed Sam and Bucky as Zemo split up from you, running off somewhere else. Eventually, you kicked off your heels, believing running barefoot would be better than dealing with the agony of heels.

Finally, meeting back up with Zemo, you were ready to have to fight your way out of this mess, but then someone you didn’t think you would ever see again appeared. Sharon Carter. You two weren’t exactly buddy buddies. You got along for Steve’s sake, but it always felt like a sort of rivalry between you two for his attention.

“Y/n,” she says, finally addressing you

“Sharon,” you say back, feeling the awkwardness seep back in. Sharon didn’t seem bothered however, she even kindly let you have some new clothes and shoes which were much more comfortable than the ones Zemo lent you and more your style.

Walking back into the main room you see Zemo sitting down, once again drinking, Bucky sitting down as far away from Zemo as he could get and Sam standing at the side. You choose to stand by Sam.

“Hey, y/n, you doing okay?” Sam asks as you walk over.

“Better than other days. What are we waiting around for?”

“For Sharon to lead us to a party where she can get the information we need,” Zemo answers for Sam, peeking over at you. You ignore him.

Sharon comes back in and tells all of you not to get in trouble while you are out at the party.

“Trouble,” Zemo jokes, and he once again glances over to you, raising a glass and winking at you as he downs it.

Following Sharon, you head into the party. It was to show off the art pieces she had got a hold of so you thought you might as well look at them as you were unlikely to see any of these genuine pieces again. You could see however Zemo following you. He tried to be sly by checking out the other artworks near you, never exactly where you were, but you could tell because every time you moved to a new place soon enough Zemo would suddenly appear there as well. He leaned into one of the artworks, pretending to study it closely, but the corner of his eyes would flick over to you.

Groaning in frustration at your new stalker, you decide you had to lose him in the crowds. Swaying your body, you enter the dancing crowd and jump along to the music, letting yourself go. You could feel your excitement growing with the crowd as you danced, but with one quick turn around there, you saw him.

Zemo had now entered the crowd and was dancing along to the music as well, pumping his hands in time to it. As you stared at him in disbelief, he notices and takes that as an innovation to dance over to you.

“Dancing is fun, right?” he asks as he claps his hand to the music

“Why are you doing this!” you exclaim glaring at him.

His eyebrows furrow as he looks at you, “I don’t understand what you mean?”

You huff in annoyance and storm away, going to find Sam and Bucky leaving Zemo alone on the dance floor. He watches you go and sighs, moving away from the dance floor. It had been a long time since he last got to socialize with anyone and he was trying with you; he wanted to know you more, but he didn’t want to push you too far either if you were uncomfortable with it.

The next few hours felt like a blur to everyone. Sharon found out where the doctor was and you found out a bit of information before Zemo choose to shoot him. Then the whole place exploded, and you had to fight for your life while Zemo hijacked and car to pick you up. Now you were standing outside the safe house.

Zemo opened up the doors, and with his arm motioned for you to go in first. You roll your eyes at his extravagance and storm in, looking around the place. It was simple, but you could still tell that it was all designer, expensive to Zemo’s tastes. You sit down on the sofa while Zemo instantly gravitates towards the liquor cupboard.

“If you drink so much you won’t have long left to live” you mutter as you watch him pour some whiskey. His head shoots up as he turns sidewards to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Concerned about my health now?”

“I’d rather have you not pass out during a mission, at least till you are no longer of use to us then you can drink yourself to death for all I care,”

“Ah concern for the mission, yes you avengers folks are all the same. The mission takes precedence before anything else,” Zemo says, grabbing his glass and walking over to take a seat on the sofa opposite you.

You give him a cold hard stare crossing your arms. “What do you mean by that” you hiss

He tilts his head, smirking as he sees how riled up you were getting. “I’m simply observing that you have to put your mission before human lives. I know from how much I studied Steve-”

“Don’t bring Steve into this!” you exclaim, leaning forward, baring your teeth at him.

Zemo pauses for a moment shocked, he pulls his head back to observe, his mouth slightly ajar as his eyebrows cast down but realization dawns across his face.

“Ah, you and Steve, you two were an item,”

“It wasn’t like that” you murmur, jumping up from the sofa and pacing around the room to try to alleviate the agitation you felt, your nails digging into your arms as you wrapped them around your body in comfort.

“But there was something,” Zemo replies, watching you pace around the room then looking into the glass bitterly, his grip on it tightening.

You turn your back to Zemo to stare at your reflection in the mirror, seeing the tears swell up in your eyes.

“Why are you bringing this up? Why do you keep trying to annoy me Zemo, what purpose are you getting from this apart from some sick sadistic pleasure?”

It was Zemo’s turn to jump up from the sofa, hurt you could ever think so lowly of him, his eyebrows furrowed as he speeds over to you. He stands beside you, getting a lot closer to you than you would like. You turned your head away so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall.

“Do you think that bad of me? Y/n we may not have had the best first impression but know that it is never my intention to irritate or upset you,” Zemo says, trying to move even closer to you, but he moves a step too far and you back away.

“Just leave me alone, Zemo” you whisper, then run out of the room to find a bathroom to let everything out.

Zemo watches your form leave, angrily clenching his jaw, knowing he pushed it too far. The vein in his neck twitches as he grabs an ornament by the side of the mirror. Holding it in his hand, he observes the glass figure, a dove, then chucks it into the ground in rage, feeling an inkling of satisfaction at seeing it smash into a thousand pieces. He grabs more ornaments, at that moment not caring how much they each cost, just enjoy the release of anger he felt every time he smashed one.

-

You could hear the blood in your brain roar through your ears, the feeling of your heart hitting your chest in shock as you stared down at Lemar’s dead body.

Your eyes flicker to John’s who knelt beside him, trying desperately to wake him up, but you knew it was hopeless. Lemar was gone. Your eyes flickered around the rest of the room, Karli and her friend realising how bad they have messed up were already running away from the room. Bucky and Sam looked at each other as if knowing what was to happen. Your eyes finally land on Zemo’s. John had tried to arrest him, but you were able to stop him. Zemo was still useful though you hated to admit it, it wasn’t long however till the Dora Milaje would find him.

You feel a hand brush against your shoulder and snap back into reality, “We need to leave, now,” Zemo whispered in your ear, pulling your arm to make you move.

Gathering your senses, you let Zemo lead you out of the building as you hear a crash from above. Running out into the road, you and Zemo catch up beside Sam and Bucky and watch the disaster unfold.

There was John, in Cap’s uniform, holding Cap’s shield above that man.

Steve.

Steve’s shield.

You feel a scream tear from your lips as you watch John Walker bring the shield down, penetrating the man’s chest, staining it in blood. Tears leak from your eyes as you attempt to rush forward, to try and stop it, but arms grasp onto you, pulling you back.

“NO” you repeatedly cried, trying to worm your way out of the grasp, but they gripped you, refusing to let go. Your knees gave out and you sink to the floor, collapsing in the arms of the person who held you, your head buried in the fur part of their coat as they held you to their chest.

You kept sobbing, shaking as the image replayed over and over in your mind.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whispered, unable to say anything else. The arms which held you picked you up, quietly shushing you, and carried you down a road, back into the safe house.

They tried to put you on the sofa but you clung to their body, not believing you could survive without their support, so they settle on lying down beside you on the sofa.

They turned you to face their body as their arms draped around you, gently rubbing circles into your back. Burying your head into their chest again, you let the sobs wail out as your chest ached from breathing.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whisper again to him.

“That wasn’t Steve, y/n, Steve would never do something like that,” he murmured, his accent soothing your nerves.

“But it was his shield Zemo. The very thing I had idolized for so long,”

“A shield which by now no longer belongs to him. He was never Captain America y/n, what we just saw proved that. They will give the shield to someone better,”

You sniff, trying to prevent the snot from coming out of your nose as your bloodshot eyes look up into his, “Really?”

He gently smiles at you, taking his hand off your back to push a strand of hair that was hanging over your eye away.

“Yes, they won’t make the same mistake twice,”

Zemo’s words brought more comfort than you could have ever imagined. His embrace brought you warmth and you could feel yourself slowly stop shaking as he held you. Looking away from Zemo in embarrassment, you instead choose to snuggle your head back into his chest, hearing the rapid beating of his heart which lulled you to sleep.

Tags: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @aloyssiac @hannahbal-the-fannibal @alainabooks143 @jokerprettyprincess @plumsandkiwis @latenightartist-author @e-barba @flutterskies @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean

#zemo x you #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #i love zemo #zemo x y/n #zemo tag #zemo fluff #tfatws #daniel brühl #marvel #mcu

[whaleofatjme1920]

Waking Up Confused in Both Hotel Rooms and Forests [Jay Merrick X F!Reader X Masky/Tim Wright]

[Jay Merrick X F!Reader X (kinda) Masky]

[Warnings: firearms, slight language, slight blood]

[AN: I originally had Masky in the spotlight but couldn't like, directly fit him in like that. Also big thanks to Entry 32 and slight Entry 76.]

You could hardly breathe as you ran further and further through the trees. Panic seeped through your veins. Your only guiding light was the light of the moon. You weren’t supposed to be here - why the hell did you agree to begin with? You had no time to regret your actions as you continued to run. Where was Jay? Was he okay? No time to think of that either, Alex was catching up. But you had to find him. You just had to.

A few weeks ago, you woke up in a hotel. You had no recollection of even leaving your apartment. Strange, very strange. Confused, and unsure of how you even got there, you attempted to leave and get back to your life only to find you were hopelessly lost with practically nothing to support yourself. All you could do was remain.

The first few days were awkward. You managed to find some food and stock up the minifridge but other than that, your days were a little lonely, and mostly confusing. The longer you stayed, the hazier your memories and thoughts became. What have you been doing for the past year? Huge chunks of time, gone in an instant. Where even were you? None of your questions were answered and the days began to blur together.

Things only grew more confusing when you were given a neighbor. You had woken up, decided to get some fresh air and passed by a man wielding a camera in the hallway. Your eyes had quickly scanned over his features - it almost felt alien to look at another person. The entire time you’d been at this odd hotel, you hadn’t seen a single soul here but yourself. And it went on like that for a few days, just passing by each other in the hallways, politely nodding, sometimes saying hello, but nothing further. It didn’t take long for you to realize your rooms were conjoined - the only conjoined rooms in the hotel. Strange, how strange.

Feeling bold, you plucked up your courage to speak with him, albeit awkwardly.

“What’s the camera for?” You asked, a small smile on your face to set him at ease.

The man shifted a little uncomfortably but smiled back. “A documentary on, uh, hotels. Y’know?” He said in a more than awkward tone. He shifted slightly after a painfully pregnant pause took place. “I’m Jay and you-”

“Oh! I’m Reader,” you answered back, more than caught off guard he asked you a question. “I’ll see you around?” You said in a slightly unsure tone.

“Y-Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

And the two of you parted ways.

That’s certainly not the last you’d ever seen of Jay though. If it had been, you wouldn’t be running from a maniac with a gun at this moment.

You and Jay continued to cross paths, awkwardly saying hi, sometimes commenting on the weather until you had finally reached a head. The previous day, you’d tried to prod him to see if he had any inkling as to what was going on when he sloughed it off as if your concerns meant nothing. Deep down, you knew he was going through the same mess as you. Frustrated, confused, you got up in the middle of the night to interrogate Jay. You lept out, slipped on your shoes, and knocked on his door. Immediately, you were greeted to his camera.

“Can I uh, ask you something?” You began, eyes dark and desolate due to the haze that swarmed in your mind.

“Sure?” Jay sounded confused. His eyes darted down to the camera and back up to you as you scratched at the back of your neck.

“Why… Why did you answer the door with a camera?” A slight frustration began to come to your tone.

“Well, I mean, I had it in my hand already-”

“Look, Jay,” you said in an increasingly exasperated tone. “I know you’re lying. First you tell me some stupid thing about a hotel documentary and then you tell me your house is being renovated, but then! But then you tell me your job was being relocated. What is going on?” You questioned, voice strained and harsh.

“It’s- It’s complicated I-”

“You’re not acting like a normal person-”

“W-What’s it matter to you? You’re just some stranger,” he tried to shake off. He looked at you like you were crazy, but his eyes conveyed something deeper.

“I think… I think something is going on,” you said, brows now furrowed together. “I know something is going on,” you took a pause and breathed in deeply. “I don’t know how I got here. You’re the only person I’ve seen in this hotel other than the staff and we have adjoining rooms. I don’t even know you. You said it yourself! I’m a stranger! Haven’t had any kind of memory loss at all?” You raise your hands and dragged your fingers across your scalp. “I-I think I’m going crazy,” you said with a small laugh, unsure of what could be considered real and what couldn’t. “Jay, I’m losing HUGE chunks of time. I’m having pounding headaches and coughing fits and I can’t even sleep, but when I do sleep, I feel like I’m still moving, like I’m sleepwalking.” You were pretty much shouting at this point and allowed all your anger, frustration and fear to bubble over.

“Reader-”

“And the worst part? I keep having these dreams back when I was a kid and I feel like something’s watching me-”

“Stop,” Jay sighed, his hand reaching out to hold your shoulder. “Let’s… Get your shit together. I’ll tell you everything, I promise, I just need to get some of my own things together.”

You nodded with shot nerves and let him go as you went off to your room, quickly getting everything together. From your room, you could what Jay rummaging around in a safe. What a mess everything had become. With a heavy heart still rife with confusion, you had begun to pack.

You never really completed packing, as the moment you touched the drawers, hands were wrapping around your face. A quick breath was all it took to black out.

Later, you woke up confused in the forest. Jay was by your side. Twilight had fallen over the land, you were unsure of how you got here, and all you knew is that you both had to get out. You were the one to wake up Jay, your hand nudging him.

“Where… Where are we?” He asked groggily, slowly sitting up before his hands pat at his chest. The camera was still attached.

“Was hoping you could tell me,” you mumbled, trying to make heads or tails of the place you were in. It looked like the two of you were laid in the middle of a burnt clearing.

“It’s a park, I think,” Jay said as he slowly began to stand up before helping you up as well. “We should make it back to the parking lot or something. Not safe to be here.”

“Not safe?”

Jay shook his head as he checked his pockets for his keys and nodded for you to follow him once he confirmed they were there. The two of you passed through the trees and greenery of all kinds before finally coming to an uneasy stretch of woods. Here, tunnels lined the sides of the paths, making your hair stand up. Every part of your body told you to run.

You did so and remained walking beside him in a tense silence before finally opening your mouth. “So, what were you gonna tell me back at the hotel?” You asked softly.

“I have some thoughts,” Jay began. “Like-”

Before he can say anything, a gun shot rang out, making you scream and jolt as Jay ducked, hand immediately gripping at your wrist.

“Don’t run, you coward!”

That voice sounded familiar, oh so familiar. When he stepped out from the dark recesses of the tunnel, you knew him. You felt it deep down inside, but you couldn’t but a name to his face - not even when the remaining sunlight stopped obscuring his eyes when the light glare subsided from his glasses. But how could you forget him? You knew him - you knew him.

“Let her go, Jay,” the man said as his eyes narrowed. The barrel of his gun was pointed directly at you two, barring you from running past him to get to the parking lot.

“Alex, please,” Jay said in a strained voice, refusing to let go of your wrist.

“No, you know what has to be done,” Alex growled as his steps got closer and closer to the two of you.

“Come on man, you know her,” Jay attempted to reason. “She was Amy’s roommate, you can’t hurt Amy like that.”

A pause.

“All the more reason to shoot you dead where you stand.”

“Alex please,” you whimpered, eyes looking at him with a light that pained him to even consider snuffing.

“I’m sorry,” Alex apologized as his eyebrows furrowed. “It has to be done - there’s no other way. I have to stop it.” Alex sounded absolutely at war with himself as he continued closer and closer to the two of you. “I’m sorry, Reader. I’ve been sorry.”

His finger rested on the trigger.

The sun set; the park is bathed in darkness.

Before the trigger can get pulled, Jay momentarily let go of your wrist and punched Alex with all his might, sending the gun flying in one direction, and Alex careening to the floor.

“Stay down!” He shouted, moving to keep him on the floor.

Your eyes struggled to adjust to the dark, but you could hear something. Something growing closer and closer until it was practically on top of you. You let out a slight screech as a man in a tanned coat came zipping past you, shoving aside Jay (with an odd about of care) before pummeling Alex back into the earth.

“Stop staring and get the fuck out of here!” The man’s voice boomed as he continued to wrestle an invigorated Alex.

Jay reached for you again in the darkness, and you reached back. The two of you ran.

Somewhere in the confusion, you’d managed to get separated from Jay right around the time more gunshots rang out throughout the forest. You could almost hear Alex in the back of your head after they’d ripped through the silent night.

And that led to now. Running scared through the never ending, godsforsaken forest where static seemed to invade your head every other minute. You could feel Alex on your specific trail. Where had Jay gone? No idea. Who was that guy that tried to fight Alex? Possibly dead. There were a lot of gunshots.

You continued to run until your lungs burned, stumbling through the trees, praying he hadn’t caught up with you. Whenever the static grew louder in your head, so too did the feeling that Alex was close. Too close.

“Reader!” You heard Alex shout out into the night after a particularly rough patch of static that left your eyeballs feeling like barbells in your skull. He kept calling out for your name.

Your lungs and your legs burned. You couldn’t possibly go on for much longer like this - he’d find you. He’d kill you. You felt tears prick your eyes as the sound of crunching sticks and grass invaded your ears. He was closer still.

In your haste of running, you had slammed into what felt like a tree, knocking it off balance as well as yourself before recognizing, no, that was not a tree.

“What the fu-”

“Shh,” the voice said. You recognized it immediately as the man from earlier. “Come on, this way.”

Not even waiting for an answer, he took your hand into his and began to guide you through the trees, pulling you along at a speed you didn’t think was human.

You held your other arm out as you pushed away branches and brambles. “Who are you?” You ask as quietly as you could, the sound of Alex’s running steps growing faster.

“Unimportant,” the man replies, barely looking over his shoulder as he continued to pull you along. “You need to get out.”

“What about Jay?”

“He’s in the parking lot waiting for you.” The man sounded a little out of breath, or perhaps he was just restricted due to the mask he wore (you could make out its outline in the moonlight). “He’s okay.”

A relief floods your system as you attempt to match pace with him on your own accord. It’s gone when you hear more gunshots ring out through the trees followed by flashes of light from the muzzle when you turn your head around.

“Fucking reckless,” the man mumbled under his breath.

“Why is he doing this?” You asked in a panic.

The sound of Alex’s laughter echoes through the trees.

“He’s insane.”

You believe him.

Eventually, the two of you reach the same tunnel where it all began. How far had you run out? No time to ruminate on that thought, the masked man pauses, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“Keep running straight. You’ll hit the parking lot in no time.Jay is waiting for you.”

“But I-”

He hushes you as the sound of Alex grows closer and closer still. You can hear him taunting you as he realizes where you are.

“Go.” He pushes you in the direction you need to run before turning around and facing Alex, who’s finally caught up.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you run.

You’re almost certain you’re going to throw up or something to that effect when you finally make it back to the parking lot. Your lungs have expanded much too much, your muscles ache, and you feel light headed and dizzy. By the time you reach the asphalt, you don’t even recognize the sound of Jay rushing over to you. His words sound like a blur in your head as he grips your shoulders.

“Reader!” His grip tightens. “Are you okay?” He keeps asking but you feel so faint.

“Jay?”

“Hey, hey, stay up.: He holds you up as you sway. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, eyes looking at you with great concern.

You take in a deep breath as you nod along to his words, hardly able to even comprehend anything. You feel your body move on autopilot as he brings you to the car, and you act on autopilot as you buckle yourself up. The car begins to leave the parking lot, your eyes able to scan the tree line once more.

And there he is, the masked man, watching the two of you leave.

Red bloomed on his chest.

#jay merrick #tim wright #marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #x reader #reader insert #jay merrick x reader #creepypasta masky #masky x reader

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Here is my one shot for Writer Wednesday, set in the storyline of the current fic spawning from last Wednesdays prompt 😅 @autumnleaves1991-blog @clydesducktape

General Hux x Female Reader

Prompt: “I’m in love with you.”

Warnings: None except a shit ton of angst.

Word count: 4216

Read here on AO3.

Your hand brushed down the soft fabric of your dress as it cascaded down your body. The top was midnight black which blended into a deep red colour all the way to the floor. It was stunning, the emblem of the First Order sat proudly around your neck, the silver glinting in the light as the delicate chain rippled against your skin. Your hair was up exposing the column of your neck and the soft line of your shoulders, you had put on some makeup but not a lot, just preferring to accentuate your eyes and lips. Your hand paused over your stomach trying to settle the nerves that fluttered there but nothing could stop them.

You were in a hotel in Canto Bight, the First Order High Command were gathering here to celebrate the victory over the Resistance on Crait. Things had gone wrong, and some members had slipped away but to the rest of the Galaxy the First Order right now had no opposition and they were going to flaunt that as much as they could. This was a show of power and you were all for it. You hadn’t seen Hux the last couple of days and your hands trembled slightly at finally being able to see your husband looking like this. A soft knock sounded on your door.

“Come in!” It opened to reveal Lieutenant Mitaka, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of you and it made you smile. Just a fraction of a reaction like that from Hux would make your heart soar. Your smile dipped slightly in the absence of Phasma, you missed your silver shadow.

“I have been sent to escort you, My Lady.”

“Will I do Dopheld?” You asked, giving a quick spin, the material of your dress rustling slightly and he nodded vigorously while trying to hold his posture. “Will my husband approve?” You didn’t miss the quick flinch from his brow at the mention of Hux, the nervous flicker of his eyes as he swallowed.

“Y-Yes, I think so,” he managed to stutter out. You tried to ignore the heaviness that threatened to drag you down, you were still in the dark about what had happened on the Supremacy before the Raddus had blasted through it and destroyed half of the fleet. You had been on the Finalizer, all you knew was Hux had survived and Kylo Ren was now Supreme Leader.

“Is he here?” You breathed looking back at your reflection, frowning when Dopheld refused to give you an answer. “Lieutenant. Who sent for me?” He jumped as you snapped his title at him.

“T-the Supreme Leader.” Your eyes widened, so Ren was here but no one knew where Hux was. You straightened your back and pulled on the black lace gloves that covered your forearms, which were also dotted with the emblem of the First Order leaving no one in any doubt of your affiliation.

“Best not keep him waiting,” you murmured, turning and heading to the door. You slipped your arm into Dopheld’s and you both fell into an easy stride down the hallway, the ride in the lift was silent and you tried not fidget, watching the lights count down until the doors opened before you, revealing the area you were to spend your evening. The first thing you noticed was the sheer size of the room and the height of the ceilings. You were used to grand surroundings but nothing on Arkanis could even come close to the splendour that filled your vision. You stepped out of the lift and moved to look over the banister, you were on a type of landing that led to two branches of sweeping staircases, finally merging into one grand staircase. You looked up at the intricate marble work, feeling overwhelming awe at the carve of the stone, the detail and skill not to mention the time it must have taken almost blew your mind. Your lace gloved hand rested lightly on the marble banister as Mitaka waited patiently for you. Your eyes were drawn to the golden chandeliers that hung from the vast ceiling, the lights in them flickered trying to create a warm glow, the branches dripping in shiny clear gems all glinting and reflecting, throwing beams of fractured light around the enormous room. Your gaze was drawn down the crowd below, their echoey chatter punctuated by music from the band on the stage over the far side. You could see the Officers and Generals all in their finest uniforms, and you experienced a little tremor as you realised Hux would also be in all his splendour this evening. You felt someone staring and you leaned over the banister slightly to capture the eyes of the one and only Kylo Ren. His amber gaze was piercing and you couldn’t look away as he began to make his way through the crowd, people moving respectfully out of his way as he swept his way up the stairs, his black cape flowing behind him and he took the stairs two at a time in giant strides. His raven dark hair falling over his brow, the scar the Jedi girl had given him reached across his face marring the handsome features but not ruining them. He paused a few steps away from you, his gaze drinking you in, ignoring the nervous Lieutenant who stood between you.

“I shall escort her, Mitaka.” His voice was deeper than you remembered, but still just as devastating on your ears.

“Where is my husband?” You asked pointedly, hopefully getting across you were in no mood for games this evening.

“He is just finishing up some tasks for me. He will be along soon.” He took a step towards you and offered his arm. You eyed it distrustfully remembering the first time you had taken his arm on the Finalizer and the way he had tried to make you cower with his show of strength. But right now you had no choice, he had clearly detained Hux on purpose and this was the Supreme Leader. You couldn't refuse him without offering insult. Holding back an irritated sigh you pushed away from the banister, sliding your arm into the crook of Kylo’s and he rested it gently into his body. He guided you down the stairs, his eyes surveying the room and you noticed people were staring. You were coming down the stairs on the arm of the Supreme Leader, the most powerful man in the Galaxy and people were noticing you with looks of admiration and awe. It was intoxicating, and you basked in it. When you reached the bottom of the stairs you saw the Generals casting sideways glances as Kylo’s large form cut a clear path through the crowd.

“Would you like a drink?” He rumbled and you nodded in reply. Your nerves were accelerating at an alarming rate, each second ticked closer to you finally catching a glimpse of your husband and you couldn’t wait. Taking the delicate glass full of a pale bubbly liquid from Kylo with a murmured thanks as you looked at the doors studying the people coming in. But to your disappointment none of them had the bright red hair you were looking out for. You both sipped your drinks, your mind tripping over questions you had for Kylo but not knowing where to start. Your gaze darted up to look at him, finding his eyes were already settled on you. “What do you wish to know?” He asked, leaning down slightly to talk into your ear, his warm breath tickled your bare shoulders and you felt the little hairs rise all over your body.

“I don’t really know where to start. All I know is Armitage survived. Was he injured? Is he alright? What happened to Leader Snoke? I’ve been very much kept in the dark and I am not happy about it. Supreme Leader.” You attempted to finish on a respectable note, and tried not to think how this man could snap your neck with just a click of his fingers. He had certainly killed people for less.

“He is alright,” he replied, feeding your own words back to you. “He’s not happy as the Jedi, Rey killed Snoke before he could bestow the promotion that he wanted.”

“But you could?” You pointed out. “You could give him the promotion he deserves.” Kylo’s gaze scanned the room before meeting your questioning gaze and you swore you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“His accomplishment with Starkiller was negated the moment the Resistance destroyed it.” Your hand tightened around your glass, annoyance flushed your body and you clamped your teeth together as you reminded yourself with who you were conversing. “He needs to find another way to prove himself worthy of such a title.” You could feel the flush creeping under your skin, the heat of it prickled and you tried to ignore the feel of it. “Would you care to dance?” You looked up sharply to catch the slight wistful look on the taller man’s face as he watched the couples moving gracefully on the dance floor.

“Do you know how?” You asked before realising how you sounded, but his reaction surprised you even more. A smile cracked his face, revealing dimples you’d never seen before giving him a much younger look.

“I am the son of some regality, of course I can dance,” he divulged. You’d never thought of who his parents were, he’d just entered your life as a creature of anger and hatred, you never once assumed he had parents, or regal breeding. He took the glass from your hand and put them down on the table next to you before stretching out his leather gloved hand ready for you to take. You hesitated, looking up at him seeing the earnest look in his eye as he patiently waited. Your hand shook slightly, your fingers flexing as his much larger one clasped around yours dwarfing it considerably. He led you to the middle, your eyes never leaving his face as he politely placed his hand on your body, settling it just above the curve of your waist on your back, his other hand open letting yours rest lightly in his palm. You placed your hand on his shoulder, letting him take the lead, your feet moving from memory alone as he proved he was just as graceful on the dance floor as he was on the battlefield. He twirled you away from him and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest, it had been such a long time since you had any fun like this. And you finally began to enjoy yourself, you offered your dance partner a smile and he dipped his head down to your level.

“You don’t smile enough.”

“I shall try to smile more,” you breathed your eyes seeing over his shoulder only to lock with the intense gaze of your husband. Your smile faltered at the glare he gave you from under the visor of his hat, like a blaster shot it blazed through your body sending an icy sensation down your legs and you stumbled only for Kylo to tense his arm around you so you didn’t fall. You pulled away looking fearfully up at Kylo as his hands dropped away from you. “Forgive me, I should see my husband.” He stepped to the side and you brushed past him but Hux was gone.

“Drink,” Hux all but snarled at the serving droid behind the bar. He watched the amber liquid fall into the glass as he leaned heavily on the bar, his coat covering his body, the visor of his hat low over his brow as he attempted to shut the gathering out from around him. He tried not to think anything of it but seeing you smiling in the arms of a man he utterly despised made his insides twist and knot over and over again. He had been so looking forward to seeing you, hoping those smiles you gave out would be just for him. He had daydreamed of the delicate touch from your fingers and his mind travelled frequently to the moment in the corridor when all barriers had crumbled between you both and he gave more of himself to you than he’d ever done before. But the illusions he had of some sort of reunion were now in tatters, because you’d been in the arms of Kylo Ren. The man who Hux was pretty sure had killed the Supreme Leader himself and just shifted the blame to that girl.

His hand subconsciously rose to rub his neck as he remembered the way he had ceased breathing when he questioned Ren, the pressure of the force stopping his body from functioning. The loss of the Resistance on Crait had been Ren’s fault but no one would believe Hux anyway, not now he was cementing his position of Leader of the First Order, a position that Hux should be in. Not some turbulent man child with barely any real life experience.

“Armitage,” the sound of his name coming from your lips shot straight to his heart making it stutter in his chest but he didn’t turn. You came up beside him, your hands resting on the bar next to him as you tried to find some words but knowing there was nothing you could say. He looked at you in the mirror behind the bar and he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you looked. The dress was stunning, the colours perfect and it made you stand out magnificently. He saw you were wearing the necklace he gave you with the emblem on and it matched the black lace pattern on your gloves. The effort that went into your outfit was impeccable but was it for him as a General or was it to grab the attention of someone more prominent? He downed the drink, his neck tensing at the burn as it pooled warmly in his belly and gestured for another.

“You look handsome,” you finally offered.

“Surprised you noticed.” He shot at you, perturbing himself at his venomous candor. He’d never looked at himself as handsome, he’d never needed to, never wanted to and always just assumed no one would ever look at him like that. So when you said it, you who was so beautiful it stole the breath from his lungs he just couldn’t process it and it felt much better to just palm the compliment off.

“Of course I noticed, I—I have missed you.” The glass paused on it’s way to his mouth at the soft sound in your voice. It tugged on parts of him that he didn’t know even existed but all he could see in his mind was that man’s hands on your body and you smiling for him. “I had no idea what happened, I’ve literally been in limbo for days with just the news that you were alive and Phasma…” your voice broke and he felt the echo of it in his very soul. Yes, Phasma. The one person who he trusted with his life, the person he relied on the most was gone. He downed the liquid in his glass, draining the very dregs and asking silently for another. “Don’t you think you should slow down?” You whispered, your hand creeping across the bar to his arm.

“No.” He stated firmly, your hand stopped and curled into a fist at his abrupt tone. “Haven’t you got socialising to do?” He dared to look at you, seeing the hint of tears in your eyes, or was that just a trick of the light? Right now he didn’t care. His anger was shimmering at the back of his mind like a caged animal and he didn’t want to unleash it on you so it was best if you left him alone. You turned your back to him before striding off and he expelled a silent sigh as another glass was placed before him. He already missed you beside him, but it was for the best. He downed this glass in one go, checking his hat was straight in the mirror before falling behind that blank barrier that carried him through these situations and he strode off to make himself known.

He stood in the group of High Command Generals, Admiral Griss was recounting some story of a prisoner pulling raucous laughter from the others, General Engell chiming in with comments and more laughter burst from them all. General Parnadee sidled up next to Hux and he eyed her out of the corner of eye.

“You’re very stoic this evening General Hux, surely you should be celebrating?” She turned slightly. “Maybe with that gorgeous wife of yours?” She stated pointing over his shoulder. That grabbed the attention of the group and his whole body tensed, he knew he had to tread carefully here.

“I’m sure she’s having a lovely time,” he commented looking down into his glass.

“Hux, are you serious? The woman is gorgeous and you’re just going to let her socialise, alone?” Asked General Domaric Quinn incredulously. He did not want to talk about you. He was well aware of how attractive you were, he didn’t need reminding.

“It was an arranged marriage, was it not?” Asked Parnadee, a sly look glinting from her gaze.

“It was,” Hux confirmed stiffly. She smirked and spoke a little louder.

“So it would be safe to say you have no feelings towards the woman at all?” He sighed.

“No, none. I married her to stop her family falling into ruin, if I had my way she’d be back on Arkanis where she belongs.” A hush fell over the group and Hux noticed them all looking over his shoulder, he turned only to lock eyes with you and his body froze. Your head was held high, a heated steely look emitted from your gaze, he could see the slight flex of your jaw as you processed his words. His brain ceased to function, he hadn’t meant the words that fell from him, he didn’t want them to know how he really felt about you because if they did, you could be used as leverage. Your life could be threatened, he wouldn’t put it past any of these people standing with him not to kill you or hold you hostage. His position was right next to the Supreme Leader, if they knew you were his everything it wouldn’t take much to topple him from that position. It’s better this way… but was it? The look on your face told him it wasn’t but all he could do was turn back to face the group, listening as your shoes clicked smartly on the floor carrying you away from him. Yes, it’s better this way.

The conversation restarted, quickly picking up pace but it left Hux behind, floundering in his thoughts. It was happening again, the sensation of his chest tightening and he knew he couldn’t have an attack here, so excused himself. Ignoring the knowing looks and smirks that were tossed his way as he shoved his way through the crowd. He took the stairs two at a time, urgency making his movements jerky as he struggled to keep himself together, thankfully his hat hid most of his face but the nausea was swirling around inside him as he replayed the hurt look on your face again and again. It pierced him like a blade, slicing its way through his body ripping a wound so deep he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover from such damage. He finally found himself alone and he closed his eyes, falling into the familiar pit of panic, his heart fluttering erratically, his lungs refused to expand and his head felt feather light on his neck, like someone had detached it from his body entirely. He turned away at the sound of footsteps and he tried to lean against the wall and look like he wasn’t dying of an intense pain that catapulted him into the stratosphere. He didn’t want to be here, he had tried to do something that benefited you, that helped you stay safe and all he could see was the beginnings of hatred in your eyes. It was then, in this moment, when he was faced with the threat of not having you anymore he realised.

He loved you.

The footsteps stopped just behind him and he knew it was you, your scent curled comfortingly around him and he felt himself begin to relax.

“Did you mean it?” The emotion clogging your voice made his eyes fly open. “You feel nothing for me?” He wanted to reply, he wanted to tell you but his body refused to respond. The realisation of how he actually felt had made all cognitive function abandon him completely. You stepped in front of him, streaks of makeup marked your face and still the only thought he could muster was how amazing you looked. “You’ve been holding a return to Arkanis over me for so long, I guess you should just execute it now. Why do you keep me around Armitage? Am I really just something for you to dip into when you feel like? I’m not a toy. I’m not a prize. I am a person with feelings!” Your hands rose and splayed across your chest as if you were trying to contain the emotion inside you and failing. Fresh tears leaked with every blink, soaking your lashes and he still found he was frozen, unable to move or react in any way. “I thought I loved you, Armitage. But I guess I was wrong.” Finally he moved, your eyes refusing to look at him as he straightened to his full height before you. He could feel it, the subtle crumble of all his internal barriers, the words you had said spun round and round in his mind repetitive and devastating to him. You had never hurt him, you had never laid a rough hand on him, you had stood by him, praised him, admired him, congratulated him, accepted him. Why had it taken him so long to realise just how perfect you were? And here he was breaking your heart, he didn’t know if he could fix this. He had no idea if you were forever done with him, but he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t try.

He inhaled, his throat was dry and at first he didn’t think he’d be able to utter anything at all. Your face screwed up and you nodded in resignation as you mistook his hesitancy for dismissal. You turned, your shoulders pulling inwards at the hurt that exploded from your chest. You were leaving. Hux internally screamed, he knew if you left now this was it, he’d never get another chance like this and finally his body moved. One big stride took him close to you, close enough to grab your hand and forcefully whip you round to face him. He held onto your upper arms, sure his grip would bruise you but he needed to feel you. He needed to experience a physical connection with you. You winced as his fingers dug into your flesh, a slight gasp escaping you as your chest heaved with a sob. You looked up at him, hope shining in your eyes and he fought with himself to ultimately let go.

“I…” his voice choked. Panic suddenly rendered him speechless but he refused to give up. His lips moved but no sound came out and you inhaled slightly. “I—I love you!” He finally spat. His brain stuttered to a complete halt but his entire body relaxed. He’d said it. A breath expelled from him and his chest stopped aching, the beat of his heart began to rocket in his chest and his eyes frantically searched yours. “I’m in love with you.” It was easier this time, flowing from him like he’d been able to say it this whole time. You swallowed, the feather of your throat caught his attention and he felt the overwhelming urge to pull you in for a kiss but he wasn’t sure you wanted him to.

“Armitage…” You whispered. “This—this is where you kiss me, like you mean it.” He didn’t hesitate, his lips crashed into yours almost painfully as he dragged you towards him, his hands moved round to your back pressing you into him as hard as possible. He got lost in the feel of you, the scent of your skin, the softness of your lips, the heat of your tongue as it slid into his mouth. You were everything to him, and now he had admitted it to himself, he had no barriers left. You were inside him, encroaching on his damaged soul, repairing him from the inside out. You were a breath of fresh air, an ocean under the moon, the light of the stars all collided into one place. You breathed new life into him, showed him things no other person had ever done before and that made you precious to him. You were the most valuable thing Armitage Hux had in his life and he would obliterate anyone who threatened to take you from him.

#writer wednesday #star wars #general hux #general hux x female reader #kylo ren #general hux x reader #general hux x you #armitage hux x female reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux x reader #general hux fanfiction #armitage hux fan fiction #Star Wars fanfic #my writing #mylifeisactuallyamess #angst

[renegadewangs]

Enigmatic Gnomance

Last night was movie night in my Discord server and we watched Sherlock Gnomes. Needless to say, things escalated very fast and I wrote a 2000+ words one-shot regarding the ending. Everyone liked it for some reason??? So here it is! (I’m not an expert on the gnome cinematic universe, please forgive me if I got a little detail wrong.)

Characters: Sherlock Gnomes, Watson Fandom: Sherlock Gnomes Pairings: (Lord help me,) Gnomes/Watson Warnings/rating: None. Summary: With the movie’s events behind them, Sherlock Gnomes ruminates on difficult matters.

Enigmatic Gnomance

The sun had set on the backyard when at last, Gnomes and Watson returned to their little home. Mrs. Udderson was nowhere to be seen, for which Watson found himself quite grateful. After all that'd occurred tonight, he wasn't in the mood for her invasive mooing. Gnomes hobbled over to the nearby armchair and settled himself down there. The deep crack in his leg instantly caught Watson's eye. He wasn't really a doctor- such a title was no more than an accessory in the world of gnomes. Even so, he found himself yearning to fix the injury somehow. He was responsible in a way, he felt. He'd been weak and he'd gotten cocky, which had made him a blind and unwilling pawn in Moriarty's little scheme.

But there was nothing to be done about it now; porcelain would never heal. Even with glue, Gnomes ran the risk of losing his leg forever if he were ever reckless.

Watson hesitated for a moment, then approached the armchair. His gaze wasn't being met. Gnomes had folded his hands together and was now peering towards his own feet. "Gnomes, ah... Are you alright? Can I get you anything?" he asked awkwardly.

Even with their reunion atop the bridge and their agreement to continue being partners, Gnomes still hadn't quite acknowledged the betrayal. It was maddening. Why wasn't he scolded? For Gnomes to come to terms with his rude dismissal of others had been the entire point, that much was true. However, to not see the gargoyles' true nature and be used by their master... That had been worthy of a good scoff, surely. Or at the very least an indignant sniff. Gnomes could have died, all due to Watson's own naivety. Sure enough, Gnomes didn't reply. The silence was worse than anything else he could have said.

"Gnomes..." Watson trailed off for a moment. Then he decided there was nothing to be gained by keeping his feelings bottled up. That was what'd caused this whole mess in the first place. "It's only us, now. Please, just talk to me."

"... I was ruminating, Watson," said Gnomes, still staring at his feet.

"Oh?"

"Yes, indeed. Ruminating. Quite deeply, I might say. My mind palace lost an entire dimension, attempting to process these hectic thoughts of mine. However, I'm afraid I'm drawing a blank. Perhaps, if you would be so kind, you might refresh my memory?"

The sober, forward nature of Gnomes's words caught Watson off guard. He hadn't known his friend to be so earnest, nor so willing to ask for help, for a very long time. Perhaps the day's events had made a difference after all. But then... Had it been Watson to make Gnomes see sense, or had it been Moriarty's doing? It was best not to think too hard on that, so he attempted to force the notion out of his mind.

"Of course, old friend." Watson placed a hand on the back of the armchair, smiling meekly. "If you need my help, you need only ask for it. Though perhaps... A bit more politely than you used to."

Gnomes uttered a chuckle, bitter as lime(stone). "Hah, quite right," he admitted. "I was wondering... Whether I actually took the time to say how sorry I am."

Watson felt his eyes widen and his body stiffen. Had he heard that correctly? Surely not. "Sorry" was a word not uttered aloud by Gnomes in a long time, short of demanding it from others.

"... What?"

"Quite a bit happened tonight. Moriarty is nothing if not a distraction. I'm certain I said quite a few things- to him and to you. However, it's all a bit of a blur, you see. Did I? Apologize?"

Watson shook his head fiercely. This was all wrong. This was what he'd wanted, and yet... No, he didn't deserve it, did he? "Gnomes- You aren't the one who needs to apologize. I put innocent gnomes in danger- I put you in danger. Moriarty could've won, all because I-I... I thought you'd..."

A hand on Watson's wrist caused any other words to vanish. He looked down to meet Gnomes's eyes. Even more out of place than the gnome's apology was the expression on his face, which Watson couldn't recall ever having seen once in all their years of partnership. What was it? Some sort of turmoil, certainly.

"My dear man, you were right to confront me with my attitude. To treat others in such dreadful a manner is already mortifying to me, in hindsight, but you... You deserved so much more and I fear I took your companionship for granted for the longest time. I'd forgotten just how brilliant you are, and so, you played the game quite well."

"Gnomes... Truly, you don't need to-"

"I am sorry, Watson. More sorry than even my own brilliant mind could ever begin to formulate."

Watson sighed and placed his own hand atop Gnomes's own. "I know. And I'm sorry as well."

For a long moment, nothing was said. Gnomes's eyes merely flitted towards Watson's hand and lingered there. Then, at last, he found his voice again. It had cracked almost as badly as his leg. "... I don't deserve a partner like you. Should you follow Irene's example and find your luck elsewhere, I would not blame you."

"Don't be a fool," Watson replied straight off the bat. "I did not go through so much trouble to teach you a lesson, only to toss away the benefits before I could reap them."

"You were perfectly content to abandon our partnership earlier."

"Well... It wasn't quite a partnership earlier, now was it?"

Gnomes appeared dumbstruck, though only for a moment. Then his lips carved themselves into a grin. "... Fair enough."

Watson took another shuffling step closer to the armchair, leaning forward and eyes narrowing into a bit of a squint. "Are you alright? Your leg... It looks quite damaged."

"It's only a few surface cracks," Gnomes replied, sticking his nose up in the air. "Nothing to worry about. The great Sherlock Gnomes is nothing if not resilient. It is a shame, though. That was my favorite leg."

Watson chuckled dryly. "I don't believe there's anything in this world you love more than yourself."

But Gnomes didn't reply. He merely stared ahead blankly at the wall. Had he gotten lost in his own thoughts again? Watson hadn't thought he'd said anything worth contemplating, nor blocking out.

"... Are you certain you're alright, Gnomes?" he asked.

"I... Yes." Gnomes blinked fiercely and rapped the fingers of his other hand against the armrest of the chair. "It's curious. You are quite clever, Watson, but then... Perhaps, unable to decipher the very same enigma which plagues me."

"An enigma, Gnomes?" Watson repeated. What was there still left to solve, at this point? It must've been significant, if Gnomes himself still struggled to put a finger on it. How tragic, then, that he would assume Watson would be unable to decipher it also. Were the learned lessons being foregone already? He hoped not.

"The time I spent with Irene... Well, surely you recall. It was a jolly good romp for a while, but I always knew she would come second place to the mysteries and the chases. And she came to know this as well. So in the end, a jolly good romp was all it was. I did not think I could ever love someone the way she expected me to."

Indeed, Watson did recall those 'jolly good romps'. He remembered the pain on Irene's face, which grew more severe with every instance where she'd been snubbed. He also remembered her resolution on the day she decided she would get over him. It was so very easy to rope her into his plans because the two of them related to one another. They both knew just how painful it was to be dismissed by Gnomes. They both agreed that the lesson had needed to come sooner and there was nothing left to salvage, but then... Watson hadn't given up quite as much hope as Irene, it turned out. It was a good thing that he hadn't.

"Indeed. But what's that got to do with another puzzle?" he asked.

"When I saw you fall and I heard that dreadful smashing sound... Well, I didn't want to think about it, really. I pushed it from my mind before it could ever take root there, because if I'd allowed that... Well, I'm sure I would've been quite useless for the remainder of the investigation."

"Oh, Gnomes, I didn't mean for you to-"

"It was a clever ploy, of course. I fell for it. Didn't even stop to consider you might catch yourself. That warrants another apology, I believe."

"No, really, it's fine. Perhaps I'd gone too far with that."

Gnomes's hand curled around Watson's wrist more fiercely. He turned his head upwards once again, brow furrowed, features pleading. "Watson," he began softly. "If I'd lost you... If you were truly gone, what would I do with myself? That's what I was ruminating on, you see. It pains me simply to envision the hypothetical, which is to say nothing of what would happen if it were a reality. I've never felt anything of the sort for Irene. So will you tell me, please?"

The situation was surreal. To hear words like that coming from his old friend... Well, the plan truly had been far more effective than Watson had expected it to be, though the result was overwhelming. Perhaps even unnerving. To earn Gnomes's respect and partnership was one thing, but to hear that his presence would've been missed so very dearly... That was more than he'd ever bargained for, or even dared to wish for. He didn't know how to feel now. He didn't understand what was being asked of him.

"... Tell you what, Gnomes?"

"Isn't there someone I love more than myself, or the thrill of the hunt?"

Watson's mind went blank. He felt quite cold, all of a sudden. But then... Also hot at the same time, as if he were standing out in the blazing sun of a warm summer's day. Gnomes's eyes were still on his own, waiting, perhaps deducing. Watson didn't dare look away. He was cornered now- trapped in Gnomes's intense stare.

Before tonight, his response would have been clear. He would have laughed bitterly at the question, then turned away from it. But then... Before tonight, it never would have been asked. Gnomes had never taken such things into consideration until he'd been forced to. To have Gnomes reflect on how much he'd always relied on Watson, that had been the goal. An unexpected side-effect, then, was that Watson now had to reflect on how much he'd relied on Gnomes. He'd wanted be looked at, to be acknowledged, to be praised- to be close to Gnomes, the way he used to when they first began to solve cases.

"I think that... The only one who could ever answer that question is you, Gnomes," he ultimately said.

"I... I need a hint, I believe," Gnomes replied in a bit of a stammer. "Just a clue, a morsel. The tiniest bit of guidance when it comes to deciphering these feelings."

"I'm not much help there, I'm afraid. I may be just as lost as you are."

"Oh... Are you really?" Gnomes paused for a moment, lips pursing and nose crinkling as he mulled it over. "If we're both lost in the same manner, does that not imply we both experience these same feelings?"

"Ah..."

And still, Watson had no true answer to give. Just as Gnomes's brilliant mind failed to form an apology strong enough to do the sentiment justice, so too did Watson's own fail to translate his feelings into words.

-Feelings? Were there feelings after all?

After about ten seconds, Gnomes tore his attention away from Watson's eyes and returned to gazing at his own feet. "Perhaps... It would be presumptuous to expect an answer to this riddle this very night. We are both taken by exhaustion, I'm sure. Delirious with it, perhaps. So..."

Still, no cohesive sentences came to Watson. Even so, he did have a reply, he thought. It wasn't a very clever one, but it was a reply all the same. He leaned forward to press a kiss against Gnomes's cheek. The gesture clearly shocked his friend, for he made a rather funny noise and attempted to jump up out of the chair. His bad leg, however, had other plans. Gnomes slumped backwards before he could ever fully stand upright and Watson caught him by the shoulders with both hands on instinct, cushioning the fall.

"Whaa- Whaaaat... son....!" Gnomes tilted his head backwards to peer up at him. "What...?"

"That was the small clue you were searching for, which ought to help you decipher these feelings of yours," Watson explained with another wry smile.

Gnomes appeared stunned. However, he soon relaxed in Watson's hold and eased himself back into the chair properly. "Indeed, that was quite helpful," he said. "Whatever would I do without your assistance, dear fellow? You truly are indispensable."

"It's good of you to say such things out loud, Gnomes. I expect to hear much more praise in the future."

"Of course!"

Indeed, they were both exhausted and had more than enough time to continue 'ruminating' on their feelings. For now, Watson was quite content to leave it that. Immense progress had already been made, and aside from that... Mrs. Udderson was still lurking high above them.

#sherlock gnomes #this started as a shitpost #but then I just kept GOING #people were howling in chat #what is my life

[hageny]

Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman 

1. Cunning.

Something that has always struck me as interesting is the comparison between how Gerri protects Roman versus how she treats the other children. In Season 1, after the failed shuttle launch, Roman confides in Gerri that he sent emails out accelerating the launch, which, as Gerri points out, could have seen him charged with corporate manslaughter had there been any casualties. What’s interesting is how she handles the whole situation. She had a golden opportunity to screw Roman over and prove him incapable of running Waystar--and could easily do the same with Shiv and Kendall and secure her seat as CEO--but she doesn’t. Firstly, she asks him about the launch starting with the flimsy excuse of, “I’m very busy with, um, hmm, on another matter”--which the audience knows is bullshit--and then relays to him what happened once the shuttle took off, not knowing that he already knows. Then, even when she realizes his fatal mistake of pushing the launch ahead in spite of safety concerns, she says nothing to Logan, and simply keeps an eye on the situation for Roman until she receives the news that there were no deaths. None of his family members are wise to the truth. In their eyes, he handled it like a pro, which only makes him (if only slightly) more respectable to Logan. In the above scene with Shiv, however, Gerri purposefully manipulates both Shiv and Kendall. Kendall has been caught stealing, and Gerri--who more than has the intelligence and know-how to put together a falsity to cover him--decides instead to dangle the carrot in front of Shiv of “Oh, nothing’s wrong” and then quickly tells her that Kendall is being protected by Logan after being caught. She does this knowing that Shiv and Kendall are battling for the position of CEO, and likely realizes that pitting them against each other makes them easier to move out of the way. It also makes it easier to turn them against their father in the long run. Gerri’s level of cunning is so great it often goes unnoticed--even by the audience.

2. Laird

One trait of Roman’s that so often is overlooked by the audience is how cleverly he manipulates people in his own way. Like Gerri, his level of cunning is so sly most people overlook it, or simply see it as him “lucking out” in certain moments rather than him playing his cards carefully at every moment. This moment with Laird after the Turkey fiasco is a great example. Rather than speak first to Logan about how he feels the deal with Eduard’s family is a disaster, he lets Laird take the reigns, letting him give a several-minutes long spiel about how important it is to go private with their family’s money before he undercuts him in front of his father by telling Logan the exact opposite--something it’s clear he never voiced to either Karl or Laird. Instead of Laird looking capable and intelligent, he ends up looking foolish and easily had. Roman’s argument against Eduard also gives us another look at his level of emotional intelligence, which he has more of than his siblings. While they may understand corporate politics better, he understands what people want, and can spot a weakness or strength in a person a mile away. This seems minute but allows Roman to get what he wants in the end--after all, had the company gone private, would Roman be able to step in as CEO with the cruises scandal then more easily maneuvered? It’s likely the answer is no. How great of a coincidence is it that both Roman and Gerri got exactly what they wanted at the end of Season 2 on chance alone? Roman does the same thing with Kendall in Vaulter. This isn’t to say that Roman and Gerri’s only qualities are to manipulate and scheme; it’s rather to showcase that they can and--as people who have been maligned by those around them--are willing to do if it can get them what they not only want, but on some level, even deserve. 

3. Protection.

Many people have argued whether Roman’s defense of Gerri was pre-planned or whether it was an organic, true to heart reaction. It is sad that, when the Waystar ‘family’, as it were, is debating who should take the fall for the cruises situation, everyone at the table is more than willing to sacrifice Gerri to the wolves. Even Logan’s children--who have done only a fraction of the work she has and are almost totally under Logan’s thumb--are more than willing to toss her aside. Only Roman, who could’ve easily been the deciding vote in the situation, speaks up in her defense and tells his father not to destroy Gerri to protect Waystar. What’s telling is Gerri’s reaction. She doesn’t look like she was expecting someone to stick up for her; she looks moreso like she had already resigned herself to the idea of this being the end of her road with Waystar. When Roman challenges his father--the few times he does this over the series--she leans forward and looks at him in surprise. Gerri clearly wasn’t expecting Roman to defend her, and on some level probably thought that now that he had benefited from not only her protection but also her assistance, that he would get rid of her, having grown enough to forge ahead on his own. Instead, Roman does the opposite, and Gerri is surprised, and likely touched, that he was the only one to do so. Not only that, but this gives Gerri the opportunity to throw Shiv under the bus, at which point Roman chimes in that Tom too is dispensable, willing to sacrifice his own sibling and brother-in-law over Gerri. Gerri could’ve turned on Roman and suggested him--having seen all his flaws and weaknesses--but instead she decides otherwise, and the shot of them at the end of the season, sitting beside and looking at one another when Roman is told to step in as CEO for the time being, reveals what the season foreshadowed, that they will walk into the future together. Whether they stay that way is debatable, but I certainly hope so.

AN: Thanks as usual for all the comments, reblogs, likes, and whatnot on these posts. It’s gratifying that what rolls around in my head interests so many people, given that I started this on a whim thinking it may or may not be interesting to anyone. I’ve added the tag, ‘succession thoughts’ for convenience. Also, Gerri’s fake laughing at Shiv’s “monkey butt injections” joke is fucking hilarious. 

#gerri/roman #gerri x roman #gerri kellman #roman roy #succession #succession hbo #hbo succession #succession thoughts

[bbygirldahyun]

with something like this, there never feels like a right time, and i don’t know if i’ll ever feel well and truly prepared to talk about these things, but i’ll give it a shot. here is my experience with reza and the entire situation.

i say none of this with malice, and i would hope nobody else does either. nobody but those who were directly involved can understand, talking about this is hard, but it’s weighing me down not to. so please, don’t send anyone hate or interact with her at all. i just want to express what happened and move on.

i became friends with reza awhile ago, probably over a year ago at least if my memory serves me correctly. unlike many others in this situation, we were very close. we spoke nearly everyday. we have spoken on the phone, she has met my girlfriend over the phone, we shared a lot of personal things. we even talked about meeting in person at one point. so trust me when i say, this has brought me an intense amount of sorrow, loss, and guilt.

i know people throw around words like gaslighting and manipulative a lot, but i truly mean it when i say she manipulated many of us. she made me feel absolutely insane sometimes, like i couldn’t trust my own memories, perspectives, and experiences. what i said i thought happened never mattered. experiences i had with someone were never considered unless they aligned with her predetermined narrative. she would convince me i said or did things i didn’t, or at least didnt remember saying. she told people i was angry at her about something when i had no recollection of it. i’m not an angry person, i couldn’t imagine being truly angry and harsh with her ever.

it seemed every few weeks or months, she picked a new person to dislike and she wanted everyone else to dislike them too. she used to tell me frequently how nobody ever believed her about anything, so at first when she would tell me about not liking someone for some reason i always tried to validate her and believe what she said. i wanted her to know i was a good friend, i wanted to be a good friend. but the more it went on, the more i started to question things. people i didn’t know very well i easily believed what she said, because i’m very trusting. i had no reason not to trust her, really. but then it became people who were my friends that were the targets of her distaste.

if i ever had a small problem with someone, she blew it way out of proportion. of course all friends have issues, everyone has issues. so i would confide in her when other people i was friends with had upset me somehow, and she always responded with incredibly petty insults about the person whether it be their writing, their art, or about them as a person. it was very odd. but i learned very quickly i couldn’t ever defend any of my other friends, because that angered her severely. she has talked poorly about just about every single person on this website in this community, including her own friends. i know sometimes you just need a place to vent, i understand that, i’ve done that myself. but she was often rude, petty, and insulting about these people. it wasn’t just venting, it was true distaste and malice.

if she wasn’t responding with petty insults, she would become very intense about the situation. she would almost always instruct me to not trust that person anymore, or to cut them off, or even sometimes go as far as to “handle” the situation herself. another writer mentioned in their post that they were kicked from a groupchat because of her, and i was in that groupchat, and she did it simply because a joke that was made had upset me slightly. she took things from 0 to 100 in seconds, before i could even protest. sometimes when she did things like that, i felt perhaps that’s what friends did? i didn’t have many friends growing up, so i guess i didn’t really know. but it often felt as if she treated me like someone who couldn’t fight my own battles when really, i’m just not a fighter by choice. i’d rather talk things out, especially with someone who was a friend of mine who i cherish deeply.

i confided in her that i was very trusting and thought everyone had good intentions due to being autistic and taking what people say at face value. i told her that’s how i ended up in my abusive relationship, because i was too trusting. she told me she hated that anyone had done that to me, and then went and did it herself. she took advantage of the fact i can’t tell easily when i’m being manipulated. she attempted to plant seeds of distrust within me towards every single other friend i had, even my girlfriend. i spoke to her once about an issue my girlfriend and i had had a long time ago, and she immediately said in essence she didn’t think my girlfriend was good for me. this was one issue within a nearly 5 year relationship. it felt insanely isolating, to be told at every turn that anyone in my life was bad for me, except for her.

it’s also worthy of pointing that all of these people who she would talk so poorly about to me and to just about anyone who would listen, she is more than willing to turn around and kiss their feet when she lost all her friends. duckie was a particular target of hers in terms of her attempts to get me to cut my friendship off with. some of the things she said to me, i don’t even want to repeat, though of course i have told duckie about it. she has said nasty things about her, about me, about our entire friendship. and yet, the second she didn’t have her friends on here anymore, she was tagging duckie in a praising post, surely in the hopes somebody might take her side i can only assume. that really boiled my blood — all of those nasty words, only to turn around and do that. and duckie isn’t even the only one, she’s just the one i’m closest to who reza did that with.

she has accused so many of us of being clout obsessed or chasing clout. i am no professional, nor can i make claims with 100% certainty, but i would go out on a limb and say i’m fairly positive those accusations are heavy projection. many of her accusations are, to be frank. she has always been seeking “clout”, attention really, ever since the beginning. she used to tell me her biggest dream was to end up on one of those writer reccomendation lists and so it doesn’t surprise me at all that her supposed final straw with lu was being excluded from one, even accidentally. but of course, she’s certainly accused all of us time and time again that we’re obsessed with clout, that we’re all only friends with each other for clout. and it’s sad to me, that that’s how she sees friendship, a means for exchange. but it’s clear that’s how she treats friendships.

she also accused someone of copying art. now whether they did or not, i have absolutely no clue. but when she showed me the supposedly copied art, i told her i wasn’t an artist and i’m also pretty face blind so i wasn’t sure if i was the best judge of whether it was copied or not. she got very angry at me for not believing her, and i tried to reassure her i trusted her perspectives i just couldn’t make the call myself. this became a repetitive situation between us — her making an accusation, me trying to dispute or to even just deflect and move on in conversation, and she’d get mad at me or just straight up stop replying. it was exhausting.

the rumors she has spread about me and others on here are horrible. some of the things she’s said about me have me absolutely floored. there’s things i’d love to address, but i don’t want to throw the person who told me what she said under the bus. but what i will say, is she basically acts as if i’m incompetent without her. i hate to throw around accusing words, but in retrospect many of the things she did and said to me and things she’s said and done since ending our friendship feel incredibly ableist and infantalizing.

now onto what really brought all of this to head. i’m sure all of you have seen the posts referring her calling a trans poc a nazi, but that’s not my story to tell really. my story is what happened after. she dmed me in the midst of that situation to complain to me about the person she accused of being a nazi, and i essentially told her not to bring me in the middle of it. at the time they were both my friends, and i thought she was acting incredibly out of pocket. of course, she grew upset, but insisted she wasn’t trying to bring me into it. i told her i didn’t think her accusation was fair, she told me that this person blocking her was “proof” that they were a nazi supporter, and i basically told her that was quite a leap. we didn’t talk for awhile after that, until she reached out again saying she didn’t want to lose me as a friend and this very long, nice message. i told her i valued her friendship a lot and as her friend, i felt it was my duty to tell her she fucked up and that she should apologized. she admitted to me she knew she was wrong. she admitted it. but she said something like it was too late to do anything about it. one of our last dm exchanges was her saying i was the one person she didn’t want to lose. then she blocked everyone.

so when she tells people i blocked her, or i ended the friendship, or whatever, that’s not true. i didn’t block her until she blocked me. i was never mean to her, not even at the very bitter end. if she thinks i was a bad friend, by all means she can think that, but i tried my best day in and day out to be a good friend. i wanted to make things work so badly, i truly loved reza as a best friend, we had so many good memories together. it broke my heart to watch her behave that way and go on to behave how she’s behaved since. i thought she was better than all of that.

she’s thrown out all sorts of wild accusations towards nearly everyone on here, including claiming we’re all lesbophobic for not supporting her gofundme. this is where her hypocrisy becomes evident. her close friend who has since deactivated had made a post basically claiming that posting “a few words” isnt activism right in the middle of when many of us on here were sharing donation links of black people in need in the aftermath of the chauvin verdict, which reza reblogged. both reza and her friend shared their own gofundmes mere days after that post. i thought that was absolutely despicable. not to mention the amount of times she’s accused lu of being transphobic and a bad ally, or reblogged posts of her cis friend claiming lu is a bad ally, which just isn’t true in the slightest. lu is an upstanding individual, and truly the pinnacle of allyship in my mind. she doesn’t just reblog a post to look good, she’s truly an amazing and supportive friend. couldn’t ask for better than that.

reza is hypocritical in so many other, smaller ways. she attacked someone for simply watching a critical review of attack on titan but continues to stan groups and people who have problematic or questionable pasts or elements to them. of course, media has problematic elements and we can engage with that critically, but the problem is she seems to think only she can do that and other people are free game to jump on and make wild accusations about. she claimed softblocking people was dumb, only to softblock me herself days later. the expectations she places on others she feels no obligation to uphold herself.

she has made attempts to entice new writers into this community by promoting them, praising their work, and claiming they can be the biggest writer etc all the while on her twitter tweeting things to the effect of all the writing on hc tumblr is boring now, or twice fic isn’t as good anymore, dreamcatcher fics are better etc etc. it’s disgusting. she brought innocent people fresh to the community into this nonsense and the second they didn’t validate her entire pov she deleted everything relating to them on her blog, all her promotions, and tweeted she’ll never help a new writer again. it was horrible to watch how many people became involved in this messy web and got hurt because of it.

i want to end all of this by apologizing from the bottom of my heart to anybody who i was swayed into a wrong opinion of by reza, to anyone who i spoke on without realizing i was being clouded by her manipulation, and to all of my friends who she spoke so poorly about. i did everything i thought i could to defend the people i cared about, but as many others can attest to she’s incredibly hard to argue against. it’s painful, and sometimes i hit a point of exhaustion. i am so sorry. i am truly, truly sorry to anyone who has been hurt by this situation, by reza or any of her friends or anybody. it was terrible being stuck in that cycle of awfulness, and i feel so much guilt thinking that i could’ve ever contributed to her poor actions and words about others. i trusted her with so many private things and i regret it more than anything.

that’s the hardest part of this, that i trusted her with so much. i trusted her with many things i would hardly share with anyone else. i told her embarrassing stories, shared much of my traumas to her, told her about my sister and my family and my girlfriend and all of these personal things. she told me so many things in return, but i know who i am. i know i would never share any of those things, none of the embarrassing stuff or the private stuff, nor would i laugh at it even to myself. but i know who she is, and that makes me feel like someone who i can’t trust holds so many things i shared in comfort, a comfort i no longer have. it’s difficult to grapple with.

and reza, if you’re reading this and i’m pretty positive you will be — i hope you find peace within yourself so you don’t have to treat people this way. perhaps i’m too optimistic, too kind and too trusting and too easily tricked, but i would rather be that than live the way you have, paranoid and bitter inside towards everyone. i hope you find a way beyond that, and i mean that genuinely.

#me

[lobakmerahs]

Morning Breeze

Summary: A morning routine that Levi and reader go through before they start off their day. 

Warning: none, except for some spelling or grammatical errors if I may put some.

A/N: This is my very very very first one shot that I have ever written in my entire existence in this world lol, this scene that I wrote had been in my head for days so I had to pour it out, not that I’m complaining though. Oh and I suck at giving title, welpp sorry hehe. Whoever stumble upon this post, I hope you enjoy reading it and I apologize if it is too boring or detailed. Thank you, for reading anyway :)

You are laying on the bed while facing the window as you watch the sky starts to change colour and the sun starts to rise slowly, having the sunshine creeping through the window and travelling through the translucent curtain of your bedroom. The atmosphere is so calming, it fills your heart with calmness.

You turn your body around slowly and carefully not to wake up your bedmate that has his muscular arm hugging your waist. You wish your little shiftment won’t wake him up since you know how hard it was for him to get such a decent sleep. As you fully faced him, you indulge into his sleeping features, his steady breathing and his peaceful sleeping face. He looks so calm in his sleep and you sincerely pray in your heart that his insomnia would slowly be recovered because there is nothing else that you wish for him except his well-being.

What felt like a few peaceful moments, probably sensing that someone is staring at him or probably due to the room that has gotten brighter from the sunshine, Levi slowly opens his eyes, to land his soft gaze at you, breaks a lazy smile before pulling you tighter to his warm sturdy body and closes back his eyes. You return the hug gratefully and inhale his body scent that smells just as fresh as the morning breeze, you feel your heartbeat synchronizes with his and feel beyond happy to be able to just wake up in the morning to him being alive, well and completely yours.

Not long after the hug, you move back a bit, creating a distance between the both of you and continue staring at him in awe. Presumably feeling a bit embarassed with your stupidly adorable stare, he moves his hand that was on your waist, to your eyes as an attempt to cover them from keep staring at him. You giggled and took his hand to place them back to your waist. You then bury your hand into his hair. His dark hair was thick and soft, you played with it and tucked some of his long strands behind his ear. Then, you moved your fingers to his wide forehead, thumbs rubbing circle on his forehead which made Levi hums in relaxation, for someone who is as touch starved as Levi, having you to touch him like that feels so good that he is almost sure that he’s still dreaming. Slowly, you drive your pointing fingers to his long and sleek eyebrows that frame his eyes perfectly.

You recalled how his eyebrows were always either furrowed with worries or twitched with annoyance when he was awake. From the eyebrows, you move your finger to touch his eyelids carefully. Under those eyelids laid a pair of eyes that was always stare intensely at people which made those who was in his sight shivered uncomfortably, but you are always exceptional from it, always receiving a look that shines with care. Moving on from the eyelids, your finger travels to his short but compact eyelashes and to his dark circles under his eyes. You notice that Levi's dark circles are not as prominent as they were before he declared you his, probably effected by your sleepyhead that he was able to get more sleep when he was with you than he ever was in his entire life. Meanwhile, Levi stays quiet and calm as if he is sinking into your smooth touches on his face, feeling grateful with how you appreciated his facial features. Gently, you laid your hand on his cheek, his skin was just as soft as silk as you rubbed circles on it in a loving manner. Then, you traced his sharp jawline using your pointing and middle finger, his jawline was one of your favorite spots on his face for you  to kiss.

“Ouch,” you suddenly said and looked at your two fingers with furrowed eyebrows as if you were really in pain. Your voice made Levi’s eyes shot opened and you could see his eyes were gleamed with worries. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Your jawline is so sharp....... It cuts my fingers.” You said slowly and showed him your fingers that were totally fine and perfect, you spoiled little bratty brat. You couldn’t tell whether he wanted to smile at you or glare at you both for the same reasons. Yet he chooses to take your fingers to his lips, kisses them and places them back on his jawline expecting you to continue your little morning adventure on his face which you certainly do. Levi decides to keep his eyes opened on you to drink in his morning view as his heart swells with love and affection for you. Your long, thick and wavy hair with just the perfect amount of mess from your sleep spreads across your pillow, your face is the definition of serenity and what boosts his pride even more is how focused you are on him as you are appreciating every single detail and every inch of his face much to his pleasure.

You move you fingers slowly, touching his jawline and move to his sharp chin. You are holding his chin with your thumb and pointing finger, while caressing it with your thumb. From there, you gently move your thumbs upwards, to rest it on his lips. His lips are plump, soft and in the perfect shade that contribute to his masculine features. His lips though rarely crack a smile, yet still are able to warm your heart with his love through his soft kisses as well as his comforting words that are delivered in his deep husky voice. Then you use your pointing finger to run it along his pointed nose, to both sides of his nose and stopped at his nose bridge. As you leave feathery touches on his nose, you remembered how he always buries his nose into your hair to inhale the smell of your hair, one of his favorite scents as he always claims.

You held his nose with your thumb and pointing finger, then.....

"BloOop bLoOopP bloOoOopPp," you make that weird sound while pinching and releasing his nose alternatively with your two fingers before you crack a small giggle and look at Levi to find his reaction.

Levi smiles helplessly at you before lets out a small, deep chuckle using his husky yet sexy morning voice that successfully brought butterflies to your stomach.

"Weird brat." He finally spoke.

"Your weird brat." You corrected him.

"Hell yeah. My weird brat, mine, forever."

~🌞

You were tucking your shirt into your pants while standing in front of a long mirror when you saw Levi was buttoning his grey crisp shirt.

"Levi, wait---". You suddenly said which caused him to stop and looked at you in confusion, you were two buttons late anyway. So you walked towards him, hands reaching to his half exposed body, showing off his sturdy front since you stopped him from buttoning his shirt.

"Did you forget...? I want to do it." You firmly said and grabbed his shirt to continue sealing his body while he rested his chin on your head. It is your favorite routine among many others, to help each other getting ready every morning because both of you are always busy and the moments before you both start to work are always precious and they are always utilized to the maximum. Once done, you grab his wrist and walk to the chest drawer that is located beside the mirror, you take his cravat and carefully tie it on his neck just the way he likes it. Levi obliges obediently and watches attentively as you work your fingers on his cravat while he twirles his fingers to your long strands. As you are done with his cravat, you help him putting on the leather strap of his ODM gear as well as his light brown cropped jacket that proudly displayed the Wings of Freedom.

Once Levi has done getting ready with his uniform thanks a lot to your loving help, he feels like it is his turn to return the favor. He notices that you are fully dressed now, in your crisp shirt, same type like his but in your favorite colour, black trousers and knee high boot, but you haven't worn your cropped jacket and haven't done your hair as it is still covering half your clothed body. So he takes the hair comb that was on top of the chest drawer and grabs your wrist to stand in front of the mirror while he stands behind you. Then, he starts to comb your hair as gently as his can to avoid causing you pain from your tangled hair.

"Let me do your hair today, Y/N." He says as he brushes your hair. You always style your hair in a hairbun since one, it was your favorite hair style, two, it was easy and fast but only if you'd practiced enough though, and three, because it would keep your hair away from your face so it wouldn't disturb you from your work. But, Levi has never actually done it himself although he enjoys watching you with your hair routine. 

"Levi, are you sure? You've never done it before though." You ask while feeling partially worried about the outcome and partially grateful for his simple gesture of showing affection also knowing how he loved your hair just as much as you did. 

"Tch, nothing to worry about. I've seen you done it countless time and it looks pretty easy to me." You smile upon hearing his answer and your smile grows wider since you can tell that it won't be the perfect hairbun that you always style just from the feeling of Levi's tough hands twirling your hair to the way he brings it to your head. Nevertheless, you wait patiently for the result. You felt hair pins being inserted into your hair and fingers mindlessly touching here and there around your head.

"Done." Levi said, the slight hesitant wavering in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by your sharp ears.

You look with excitement at your so-called hairbun that was made with care and love by none other than the love of your life, Levi Ackermann, humanity's strongest soldier and you bite your lower lip so hard to stifle your laugh that your body shakes. But since you feel worried that you might bleed your lip from biting too hard, you let out your controlled laugh.

"Levi........ That's a bird nest!" You exclaimed, pointing at the reflection of yourself in the mirror, precisely to the hairbun and proceeded to cover your mouth while you are laughing. Levi can’t help but smile at your laughter probably because his silliness for being so confident with his hairstyling skill was received as a source of happiness to you which is also to him eventually and the fact that he effortlessly makes you laugh without even needs to crack a dark humour as well. Most importantly, both of you got up early that morning and didn't delay on getting yourselves ready, so both of you are not in a hurry at the moment, so you can mess around with each other while not having to worry about being late. 

"Let me try again. I'll get it right this time." Levi sounds eager to try for his second attempt which you just nod with a huge beam. This time, you guide him with clear and precise instructions of doing your hair bun, from rubbing the hair oil onto your hair, then hold your hair in the centre of the back of your head, twirling it slowly and bring it back to your while swirling it. Finally, you ask him to clip your hairbun by using your favorite hair claw clip - the one in the shape of a butterfly coated with your favorite colour, it’s one Levi bought for you on your birthday knowing the obsession that you had for hair accessories. He proceeds to clip your hair carefully and takes a step back when he has done. 

Hairbun? Done.

"Perfect." You stare in awe as he releases his hands from your hair, his furrowed eyebrows due to his extreme focus on your hairstyle seem to relax upon hearing your word. He smiles in relief to you through the reflection in the mirror.

"Thank you, Levi. You finally made it," you say wholeheartedly and grin at him. Then you turn around to face him and planted a quick peck on his nose when he seems like he has been waiting for his reward.

"Not enough, one more." He demanded with one arm strongly held your waist-not wanting to let you go, greedy old man. Then you place a few more kisses across his face before he helps you with your cropped Survey Corp's jacket and both of you head to the door together to begin you and Levi's day as the soldier, serving humanity. 

Levi opens the door for you, which you walk out with a soft pat on his chest as a sign of gratitude. Both of you walk side by side towards the mess hall to have breakfast while sharing each other’s schedule for the day as well as the works that need to be done. That is how the mornings goes for today, tomorrow or any other day, a morning that starts off with full of gratefulness, love and care for each other in hope that the love that you both shared remain fresh as the morning breeze. 

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