#he’s surprised at how fast he gets worn out; and how much more difficult it is now

[hopelessrromantix]

content: overstimulation, eddie is a brat, and steve is a good boy, I got carried away lol

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At the moment, Eddie Munson was very confused.

You’d planned a day out for you, him, and Steve, consisting of stopping by their favorite shops and grabbing lunch. Naturally, Eddie, being Eddie, decided to tease you the entire time. Originally he’d tried to get Steve in on it, but (as usual) Steve was your good boy and said no.

He’d worn the jeans he knew you loved and an old shirt that was slightly too small. You’d been all for it until he’d decided to be his usual bratty self.

His hand has brushed your crotch far too much to be normal, and you could see him actively leaning into Steve more than usual.

When you’d gone for lunch at a diner, he and Steve sat on one side while you took the other. Lunch was full of idle chatter, mostly from Steve about some new hair product he’d found. You didn’t even notice anything was off until Steve started stuttering more.

Every so often you could see Eddie lean close to him before whispering something intelligible. Steve would immediately flush red and try to refocus on whatever he was saying.

Eddie, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.

All it took was an in depth description of how much he wanted to suck Steve’s cock under the table.

He was certain you saw how his hands rested on Steve’s thigh. He’d move them to brush the small bulge in Steve’s jeans, making the taller man stumble over his words.

Lunch had gone slower than he wanted, but Steve was a complete mess by the end.

You were aware of it, too. There’s no way you weren’t. He saw how Steve whispered something in your ear afterward, and he definitely saw how you grabbed his ass before sliding into the driver’s seat of your car.

Eddie slid in the back seat without much argument, which was a surprise to both you and Steve. If Eddie wasn’t driving he usually insisted on taking shotgun, but now he was sitting eagerly in the back seat with a wide smirk.

You didn’t care much though, too busy thinking up a punishment for Eddie. Steve had already apologized (though you assured him he was your good boy, and did nothing wrong), but would take a lot more convincing.

But as Steve slid into the passenger’s seat, you discovered Eddie even found a way to make driving difficult.

“Aw, not gonna join me back here, Stevie?” Eddie patted the seat next to him softly, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Do I look stupid? You’re just gonna get me in trouble.”

You smirked at the bickering. Steve always played by the rules, he was your good boy who was only bratty when Eddie pulled him into it.

“Me? Trouble? Never.”

You rolled your eyes, starting up the car and driving back to Steve’s house. His parents weren’t home, as per usual, and you wouldn’t be seeing them any time that week. It meant the perfect time to stay at Steve’s house as long as possible.

Eddie watched you focus on driving, responding to Steve talking about work or something about Robin. He could see your eyes flick back to him in the rear-view mirror. Each time you were met with a smirk and a wink.

About half-way through the rather short drive, he pulled down the zipper on his jeans. He did it idly, knowing the noise was audible in the car.

Yet again your eyes flicked back to him. Though you couldn’t see his full body, you could see how his arm moved, hand stroking himself through his boxers.

“The hell do you think you’re doing, Munson?” You questioned, your grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“Just getting comfortable,” He shrugged, pulling his dick out of his boxers. It was just low enough for his half-hard cock to spring out and hit his stomach. He didn’t miss how fast Steve turned around, his eyes completely glued to Eddie’s hand. “You wanna join me, Steve?”

Steve’s eyes widened as he looked from Eddie over to you. “Don’t get me involved.”

“Steve’s bein’ a lot smarter than you, baby,” You warned, glaring as Eddie’s hand moved up and down his shaft. “You better quit being a fucking whore before I treat you like one.”

Your eyes went back to the road, peeling away from the vision of Eddie stroking himself.

“You love it, Y/n,” Eddie smirked, sending a glob on spit onto the tip of his dick. The schlick noises from his hand were filling the car.

Steve’s eyes hadn’t left him. The taller man’s jeans were visibly tighter, his cock completely outlined in his pants. Eddie could hear him cursing under his breath, his eyes constantly flicking between you and Eddie.

“Fuck,” Eddie moaned, watching Steve’s dumbfounded expression. “Gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that, Stevie,” Eddie chuckled breathlessly.

Your eyes widened and you pulled over the car, only a few houses down from Steve’s.

“Cum and you won’t get shit from me. You can spend the next week without anything from me or Steve.” Steve seemed a bit disappointed at your statement, but didn’t argue. “If you wanna be a pathetic little slut, I’d be happy to leave you tied up while I play with Stevie.”

You saw Steve gulp at your statement, looking between the two of you. You nodded, starting the car and traveling the last block. You could see Eddie debating your statement before his hand eventually fell to his side. He left his cock out, smirking as Steve glanced back every few seconds.

Eddie had fixed his pants for the trip to Steve’s door, the last thing he needed was the rich and stuck-up folks in Hawkins hating him even more. It hardly mattered though, since he was getting dragged up to Steve’s room the second you all got inside.

Steve followed closely, trying not to meet Eddie’s gleaming eyes.

You practically tossed Eddie on the bed, immediately instructing him to strip. A small part of him was tempted to disobey, but he’d already tested you enough today. He didn’t know if he could last a week without either you or Steve touching him.

Steve stripped as well, anticipating your order. You pulled off your clothes, lying down on the bed next to Eddie.

And this is where Eddie was confused. He’d been teasing you all day, enough to make you pull over your car to yell at him. And yet, here you were, gesturing for him to sit on your face. Sitting on your face sounded amazing.

And who was he to argue, right?

The second he positioned himself over your mouth, you immediately attacked him with your tongue. You circled his hole roughly, pushing in without much warning. With the way your tongue was thrusting in and out of him, he barely registered Steve straddling you, slowly fingering himself open.

The sight only drove Eddie closer to the edge. He'd gotten himself farther than he wanted to admit while in the car, and only a few seconds on top of you was already pushing his limits. Your hand had reached up to his cock now, stroking it in time with your movements.

“Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum!” Eddie leaned forward, hair brushing against Steve’s chest. Your movements only sped up, practically forcing him to cum a second later. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, yesss.”

He sprayed his stomach with white, his cum hitting Steve’s thigh as well. Steve chose that moment to sink down on your cock, his mouth falling open.

Eddie tried to move away from your mouth but you gripped his thighs. Your assault on his hole didn’t stop, your hands gripping his thighs harder whenever he tried to squirm away.

“Y/nnn,” Eddie whined, still trying to wiggle his hips. “Too much, baby, you’re suffocating down there.” He did his best to joke, assuming you didn’t know how sensitive he was.

“Aw, but you seemed so eager in the car? You’ll sit right there as long as I tell you to.” You gave his ass a slap, returning to running your tongue over him. He had a very bad feeling about your teasing tone.

He practically collapsed into Steve when you started stroking him again. Steve was bouncing on your cock, now slowing so he could lift Eddie’s face to his. Their lips met, both desperately leaning further into each other.

He felt Steve’s fingers pinch his nipples, rubbing them at a quick pace. Eddie cursed under his breath. He was far more sensitive there than he wanted to admit, a fact both you and Steve knew well.

“God, you’re gonna make me cum again, Stevie.” Eddie whined, overstimulation making his legs shake. Your tongue was doing wonders for him, the rapid pace sending him barreling over the edge.

“Shit!” He came again, his cum landing on your stomach below him. Your hand and tongue didn’t slow, neither did Steve’s fingers. He could see the other man’s cock slowly dripping cum. Steve was growing as antsy as he was, though the brunette kept bouncing on you just as enthusiastically.

“Pleasee, Y/n. I can’t come again baby, I’m gonna need more time than that.” Joking didn’t seem to be working, as you didn’t slow down. In fact, you’d added one of your fingers to the mix. Your tongue still darted out to trace his rim, making his moan each time.

“You wanted to act like a brat today,” You reminded, your hand leaving his cock to give his ass a sharp slap. “You’ll take everything I give you, got it?”

Eddie felt his legs tremble more. It only got worse when you added a second finger, curling to hit his prostate dead on each time.

Steve wasn’t doing much better, though you were letting him sit on your dick, walls clenching around you every few seconds. Every minute or two he started bouncing again, letting out hoarse moans as Eddie’s lips latched onto one of his nipples.

Eddie’s teeth grazed him slightly, though the long-haired man was hardly paying attention. He was too lost in the feeling of your fingers curling in him and how close he was to his third orgasm.

“Y/n, I can’t take another one, okay? M’sorry for teasing you, I won’t do it again.” All of you knew that was a damn lie. “Just can’t do another one.” Eddie begged you, though his words did nothing to convince you.

“What’d I say about taking what you get, hm?” You questioned, slapping his ass again. The motion forced his third orgasm, his lips finally leaving Steve’s chest as he went practically boneless. “If you wanna act like a whore all day I’ll do whatever the hell I want with you.”

Eddie was barely processing what you said. He was barely sitting up, biting his lip as Steve sucked on the crook of his neck.

“You want me to forgive you? Apologize properly.”

Eddie thought about his options. He wasn’t quite ready to apologize, though he did want to stop your fingers from forcing another one out of him.

Either way, he new you’d end up fucking at least two more orgasms out of him.

At least his options were good.

#letters to stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington x male reader #steve x eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #male reader #x male reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut

[wannaeatramyeon]

taehoon first kiss hc pls

Oh you thought you were gonna get something fun huh? Something a bit lighthearted and fluffy? Surprise! Take some comfort with a little bit of hurt.

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Hospital Kisses

Accompanying ch103 - post Baek Seongjun fight. You visit Taehoon in the hospital

Taehoon isn't sure he could bear the look on your face.

"I'm ok. I'll be discharged soon."

He really was not ok. Seongjun had done a number.

But even in his current state, Taehoon couldn't miss the way your lip trembled when you walked in, the way your eyes turned misty as you looked over him and saw the bruises and the injuries.

You flicker a watery smile his way, trying your hardest to look unconcerned at the fact your boyfriend is sitting in a hospital bed. Like this is an everyday occurence. It's normal, it's fine.

Occupying the seat next to the bed, you avoid Taehoon's eyes. If you looked at him any longer, you were sure the tears would come thick and fast, with no end in sight.

Instead your eyes rove all over the bed. Taking in the well-worn hospital blanket, the fraying threads, Taehoon's thin hospital clothes poking out between the sheets - leading to bandages, leading to a drip, leading to his bloodied and swollen fists-

You avert your eyes and stare at the ground instead.

"Cmon, you're ruining our first date," Taehoon's voice snaps you out of your unpleasant reverie. You somehow muster up a wry smile.

"I think this is the worst first date ever."

Even now, he manages to sound cocky, "How is it bad when you're with Seong Taehoon?"

"You're such an idiot."

"Don't think I can't hit you in my condition," he threatens without malice. Ah, maybe this isn't the right time, he thinks as any hint of cheer disappears from your eyes.

Taehoon changes tactics.

"Just... come here," Taehoon has never been one to comfort anyone. He prefers tough love, if not just the violent and physical kind where he kicks the shit out of someone. But, he supposes, for you he can try.

He hides any discomfort as he shuffles over, leaving enough room in the bed for you.

"Are you sure?" You hesitate, not wanting to potentially aggravate any injuries.

"Are you being difficult?"

Carefully, you slide yourself in next to him, trying not to disturb anything. You find yourself pressed shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip; the heat of his thigh warming yours.

The results from the fight is much more apparent at this angle. You can see the discolouration and the cuts, the way Taehoon holds himself more delicately.

"Hey, can you stop scanning me. I said I'm fine." Taehoon's frustration creep into his voice. His personality never drifts too far from its prickly and fiery baseline.

"S-sorry..."

Despite his tone, Taehoon isn't annoyed. Not really. He's not sure he could ever truly be annoyed with you.

"Hey," Taehoon says again, much softer. He cups your chin and turns your face towards him. He takes in your wet lashes and the slight quiver to your lips.

"Y/N..." he's always liked the way your name felt on his lips. These days he wonders about the touch of yours on his too.

Taehoon closes the distance and silences your fears with a kiss.

#taehoon seong #taehoon x reader #viral hit #viral hit manhwa #viral hit x reader #viral hit webtoon #viral hit headcanons #how to fight #how to fight manhwa #how to fight webtoon #how to fight headcanons #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehoon #seong taehun #seong taehun x reader #taehun seong #taehun seong x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[witchofthesouls]

Why do I imagine that the TFP!kids turned sparkling would wreak havoc on the nemesis if they found themselves on decepticons hands? I mean, yeah, they will learn what they can from them, cause the bots simply can't teach them about being a warframe, but that doesn't mean they will be docile and easy to manage, even more with them simply being other. Would they get attached to the cons? Would megs (and soundwave too, cause he has other vibes) realize the otherness cause of the dark energon?

Because you’re not wrong. But it's hard to say if the Decepticons ever figure out the kids' Other heritage without major clues and a 2x4 to their prejudice. If anything, they'll make a lot of assumptions that their quirkiness is due to them rising above their flesh or weirdness from the cyberization process.

Should the Decepticons manage to get their hands on the sparklings, the ship will be very lively and the crew will be on their toes wrangling those three.

Much to everyone’s surprise, it’s not the little Predacon or nearly feral War-Forged that causes the most trouble, it’s the polite one.

Miko may be a ferocious, bitey slip of Seeker sparkling (Many had their servos patched if they didn’t catch her fast enough.), but Jack is able to suppress his presence to nonexistence and he moves so lightly that he doesn’t register on sensors that detect motion and proximity. 

He also has a sweet smile. Jack can and will try to finagle his way out of things, especially since his curiosity is too powerful to suppress. (Ex: the base cougar, his constant sneaking away into vents, walls, ceilings, and so on. A locked door is not a deterrent, it’s a challenge.)

Starscream and Predaking had relentlessly worn down Megatron on claiming guardianship over Miko and Raf, respectively. They actually worked together to push their claim; after all, they’re the only adults of the sparklings’ specific frame-types. Plus, neither of them wants Shockwave to have them.

Neither of them has to worry about the sparklings getting curious about the scientist, Jack had a terribly negative reaction to his presence that he immediately fleed from the medbay with Miko and Raf.

Between Predaking’s refined tracking skills and Soundwave’s constant surveillance of everything, the trio is found holed up in the walls where raw Energon crystals are stored for the long term.

Both of them are vicious, little things. Jack isn’t a mild child. When provoked, he doesn’t have any issues sinking his claws or denta on the softer bits between plating. Unlike Miko’s wild lashing to draw blood, Jack purposely targets the seams that protect the nervecurcuits and ligaments.

Jack is very driven by his curiosity. He can be bird- and cat-like in his mannerisms. The Decepticons had learned the hard way to not only indulge some of the constant questions but make sure it’s truthful enough since the bitty seems to have a sixth sense in detecting lies.

While all the kids can be omens in their own ways, Jack is downright eerie at times. It’s the way he keeps to himself, how silently he moves. He’s downright difficult to teek, so more than once he had a few of the mechs raise their blasters to his direction, especially when they see those off-blue optics above them.

Jack is a little ghost. In more than one way.

Megatron would be focused on the kids, particularly on Jack, especially since dark sparkling reminds him a lot of Orion. The unstoppable quest to satisfy his questions, the willingness to subvert the establishment, that smile when around friends, and the strange sense of politeness to accept gifts even when confused or unsure about the goods. The warlord can’t help but to laugh when Jack bit into a Cybertronian-version of the Kinder Egg. Poor thing was so confused since he took a hearty bite out of the chocolate, plastic covering, and toy. It’s a “unique” taste, alright. 

Of course, Jack is his own person. And that person is a sparkling that can and will dabble into eating venom and poisons with little side effects.

He also has the worrisome habit of sneaking to the outer deck to sit at the bars to either way the sky or the scene down below.

With great reluctance and gritted denta, he had to give Jack over to Soundwave since Jack can and will sneak away from the warlord and everyone else if they take their optics off him.

Soundwave, as a spymaster and head of security, is constantly surveilling everyone and everything.

Miko is the loudest, angriest child. She squeaks and chirps up a storm. Climbing all over the place and isn’t afraid to jump and tumble down. Before mecha knew Starscream was coming based on the distinctive clip of his heels, now mecha know it’s Starscream based on the furious howling by Miko hanging by the scruff.

Much like the Autobots, she spends a lot of time in the medbay since she’s the only current War-Forged on Earth and she really does love jumping from ridiculously high places.

Death from above, the Vehicons tease with a sort of gallows humor, especially when one of them catches her from hitting the floor. If Miko ever survives to her adulthood, then she will really bring death to many mecha.

And if Miko is in the medbay, then Jack will suddenly appear in the vicinity. He pesters Knock Out and Breakdown with hows, whats, whens, whys as the medical berth keeps Miko dealing bolting away. Breakdown graciously allows the pink Seeker to chew on his armor as the medic sorts out the little damage and her systems.

Out of the three, it’s Raf that would get attached the most quickly. He’s very young in terms of development, he craves close emotional connection, so as far as he’s concerned, he has a caretaker that’s like him. 

Predaking is attentive to his needs and very patient. He spends more time in his alt-mode since Raf either doesn’t know how to transform or simply doesn’t like going to two-legs form.

He will carry Raf by the scruff like a mama cat with her kitten, or let the kid ride his back as they cross halls. Predaking doesn’t trust the other mecha onboard to try something. (They just want to pet the potato. Honest to Primus.)

Even with a superior sense of smell, he does keep very close to the chonky pup since Raf will explore his new surroundings and will attempt to shove new things into his mouth. No little pup, you can’t eat that. Even if it’s tasty. Plus, keep the baby dragon from overeating and away from the long-term storage space.

Of course, Predaking grumbles but doesn't push away Miko and Jack that find their way to Raf.

#ask #azula nyx #transformers #transformers prime #jack darby #miko nakadai #raf esquivel #megatron #soundwave #starscream #predaking #knock out #knockout #breakdown #maccadam #tfp #humanformers #humans into cybertronians #sparklings #bitlets #creature #my writing #tf headcanons

[heliads]

everything is blue • conrisa space au • Chapter Nineteen: Call Up the Cavalry

Risa Ward escaped a shuttle destined for her certain, painful death. Connor Lassiter ran away from home before it was too late. Lev Calder was kidnapped. All of them were supposed to be dissected for parts, used to advance a declining galaxy, but as of right now, all of them are whole. Life will not stay the same way forever.

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Connor fears that this might be the moment at which he finally goes mad.

He’s undergone enough to make the snap happen, at least. How much bending can a mind take before it breaks? How many separations, how much running, how much death and chaos can one teenage boy undergo before he starts to lose himself? Connor wouldn’t be surprised if this is all a hallucination cooked up by a brain that doesn’t want to separate itself from its familiar skull.

However, just why Connor would hallucinate this tithe of all people, he can’t understand. He stands there, blinking at the blond kid, until the figure of Lev Calder sighs, cracks a grin, and says, “Hey, Connor. Long time, no see.”

This, truly, is how Connor knows this has got to be fake. “Since when have you been friendly?” Connor asks doubtfully.

One of the teenagers next to Connor chokes out a laugh. “Lev, I thought you said you were friends with this guy.”

“I am,” Lev says, flashing the stranger a dour glare so severe that Connor is immediately thrust into more than a year of memories. Yes, that’s Lev alright. No one can cast judgment quite like a boy who’s worn tithing whites all his life.

Lev clears his throat pretentiously and motions for Connor to continue into the house. “Surprised to see me?”

“Surprised would be an understatement,” Connor remarks. “Do I have a concussion or something?”

Lev grins again. “I would make a terrible figment of your imagination, but that’s beside the point. No, Connor, you’re not dreaming. I should hope not, it’s taken ages to track you down. Hasn’t anyone told you to stop moving around all the time?”

“Yeah, the Proactive Citizenry,” Connor says wryly. “The two of you can argue over custody claims for me.”

Lev’s face tightens. “Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like to do more than poke a fight with the PC. They’re no friends of ours.”

Connor arches a disbelieving brow. “Really? Because the last time I saw you, you couldn’t get to a harvest colony fast enough. I seem to remember you arguing with Risa and I in an effort to turn the ship around when we saved your ungrateful ass.”

It’s difficult to keep the bite out of his words. Even though it’s been more than a year, Connor still hasn’t forgiven the kid for the stunt he pulled back in the boundary checkpoint leaving the OH-10 sector. When Lev had sounded the alarm, Connor and Risa had been forced to go on the run again, requiring the help of a sympathetic checkpoint worker for them to escape undetected. Even so, they’d barely made it out alive, and no thanks to Lev.

One of Lev’s friends doesn’t seem to take kindly to Connor’s hostility. He starts to move towards Connor, but Lev waves him off with a small gesture of his hand. Connor watches all this with faint curiosity– since when has the short tithe been able to inspire this kind of loyalty– but doesn’t say a word.

Lev picks up on his lingering irritation. “I wouldn’t blame you for being annoyed with me for how things ended in OH-10. None of us do,” he says smoothly, aiming a pointed glare at his vocal friend before carrying on. “I was a different kid back then. I didn’t know the importance of staying alive. I thought distribution was saving the world. Then I learned otherwise.”

Connor sits forward in his seat, unable to disguise his curiosity. “What changed your mind?”

Lev smiles softly. “Actually, I started having second thoughts the moment I turned you guys in. I couldn’t shake the guilt I felt, thinking that I had sent you guys to your deaths. I slipped away in the chaos when the checkpoint cops were trying to find you, and ended up hitching a ride on a mass transit shuttle. It was going to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, which I figured would be a good way to start clearing my head. Along the way, I met up with these guys. They call themselves the Chancefolk.”

Connor glances at the assembled group. None of them seem to be from the same place, all different heights and builds, different complexions, but the same haunted look in their eyes. Whatever they’ve been through, it’s been just as long and winding a road to walk as Connor’s.

“The Chancefolk?” Connor repeats. “I’ve never heard that name before.”

“I would be surprised if you had,” Lev tells him. “The Chancefolk are the native people of the galaxy. The group you see before you is only a small fraction of their true number.”

Connor turns to face him, startled. “I thought the Collective wiped out all of the native species from the worlds they conquered. People, plants, animals, everything.”

“Think again,” says a woman from the back. “The Collective would love you to believe that they’re the supreme authority on everything, but they couldn’t be more wrong. They miscalculated and mishandled the galaxy, but we’ve been maintaining the worlds all along. There are pockets of us in every system if you know where to look. We may keep our heads low, but that doesn’t mean we can’t look around and see where we need to be.”

Connor nods slowly. “I can’t believe none of us ever knew about you.”

“The Collective’s got a pretty good propaganda blanket across the galaxy, but I have a feeling that times are changing,” Lev tells him. “For one thing, you’ve got a friend who’s pushing that boundary.”

Connor breaks into a grin despite himself. “Don’t tell me you’ve been tuning in to Radio Free Hayden? Even in your outer rim hideaway?”

Lev chuckles. For a moment, he looks younger again, more like the boy Connor remembers meeting, and then promptly abducting, all that time ago at the beginning of it all. “Of course we did. That’s how I knew you and Risa were still alive, actually. I turned to his frequency one day and heard the three of you joking around like you’d never had a care in the world.”

The smile lingers on Lev’s face for a moment longer, but then his expression sobers again. “Speaking of Risa, where is she? From the way you two used to talk on that radio show, I thought you were joined at the hip, but you showed up here by yourself. Did something happen?”

A wave of grief washes over Connor again, even stronger from its absence. “Something bad. We were ambushed by the PC. She sacrificed herself so I could get away.”

Lev closes his eyes momentarily in grief. “I’ll pray for her. In the meantime, what do you say we break her out of there? We were planning a raid anyway. I think it’s time to show the PC that they’re not nearly as strong as they think they are.”

Connor nods excitedly. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. In the meantime, there are a few things you guys should know about the PC before we draft a plan.”

The Chancefolk draw closer as Connor tells them about Dorian Heartland. He sees the outrage in their expressions, the pain and agony of knowing that their centuries-old foe is still alive. Judging by the steely resolve in their eyes, though, Heartland’s over-extended life may not continue for that much longer. Not if Connor has anything to say about it.

In the end, they walk away from that meeting with a plan. To take on Heartland and the PC, they’ll need an army. However, between the Chancefolk scattered across the galaxy and a fair number of personal friends that Connor and Risa have made along the way, they’re halfway there, and that’s not a bad start. First, though, they’ll need someone capable of uniting the worlds behind their cause, and he’s imprisoned in a harvest colony waiting to die.

“You’re certain this is going to work?” Connor asks for the tenth time. They’re approaching the exterior of the harvest complex now, nearing a service entrance at the back with weapons drawn, but even though they’ve been through the plan many times, all Connor can imagine are possible avenues of error.

“It’ll be fine,” Lev assures him yet again. “Listen, you saved my life when we first met, even if I didn’t appreciate it then. Let me help you out now. I’ve been owing you that favor for a while.”

“Don’t I know it,” Connor mutters under his breath, but he shuts up and lets himself believe in the idea that this might work.

Una Jacali, one of Lev’s closest friends among the Chancefolk, is leading the expedition. She looks as if she might be ready to assassinate Dorian Heartland herself using nothing more than her bare hands and raw anger should they accidentally cross paths. Connor never thought he’d say this, but he actually feels bad for the guy. Having someone as unbreakable as Una on your tail can’t be good.

Una signals to them, counting down from three with a free hand. When she lowers her hand, the explosives they’ve placed on the far side of the harvest complex go up in a fiery rage, drawing the attention of all nearby cops far away from them. The group sneaks through the service entrance and into the shadowy halls. Una and Connor fire at guards when they need to, but their path to the harvest colony is surprisingly clear, likely thanks to the inferno distraction still sending wailing klaxons through the complex.

“They’ll all be in the dorms thanks to the alarm,” Lev tells them. “We should head there now.”

“Remember, Hayden is our first priority,” Connor urges them. “Get everyone out, of course, but we have to make sure he’s safe.”

“Or at least his voice box,” Una supplies. “He can be shot in the leg and be fine.”

Connor shoots her a dour look. “The whole body needs to be fine, Una. He’s our friend.”

Una doesn’t acknowledge this with anything more than a raised eyebrow, which makes Lev clap a hand to his mouth in an attempt to silence his bout of laughter. “We hear you, Connor,” the former tithe says when he manages to get himself under control. “Hayden Upchurch won’t be harmed.”

Connor would appreciate a little more confidence on that front than just the word of Lev, but then again, the boy’s done this well in getting them thus far, he might as well have a little more faith. If anything, the religious upbringing in the younger boy would appreciate some good honest hope.

The group of rescuers breaks into the central portion of the harvest complex when the service corridor ends. Immediately, shots break out as several guards notice them. Evidently not every soldier had been sent to check out the disturbance.

“Go on,” Una urges Connor and Lev. “We’ll hold them off.”

Connor shouts his thanks, then takes off towards the dorms, Lev just behind them. Surprisingly, Lev manages to keep up, even despite his shorter stature. “Since when did you learn to run this quickly?” Connor asks, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Lev chuckles. “A lot happened in the Outer Rim. I’ll have to tell you sometime, but the stories would take a while.”

There’s a dark glint in Lev’s eyes, one Connor doesn’t quite recognize from the short window of time they’d spent together a lifetime ago on the stolen shuttle of a Juvey-cop. Connor makes a mental note to sit Lev down once they get out of here and ask him just what in sunfire happened in the year since they last saw each other.

That is, of course, assuming they do get out of here. It is not lost on Connor that Heartland brought all the AWOLs from the Graveyard here to trap Connor once and for all. Although Connor and Risa already sprung that trap in the synth-park, there’s no telling if Heartland had a backup scheme that could be playing out right now. All Connor can do is keep running, and hope to all the heavenly bodies that this, at last, is something the immortal murderer didn’t see coming.

The two of them reach the door to the dorms. A quick blast from Connor’s gun sears through the lock, and he kicks it open. The door surges forward on its hinges, and hasn’t even opened all the way before Connor sprints through it. Kids are everywhere inside– sitting in the corner, talking in quiet voices, poking their heads out of doors, all of them staring at Connor with these wide eyes. It occurs to him that they might be afraid of him. When did he become something worth their terror?

Then a girl near him stands up with a start. “Connor?”

He recognizes her vaguely from the Graveyard, and although they never personally met, Connor seizes this opportunity to get back control of the situation. “Yes,” he says as loudly as he can, “It’s me, Connor Lassiter. From the Graveyard. I’m here to get you guys to safety. There are some men and women outside, they’ll help you to our shuttle.”

Too afraid to believe their good luck, no one moves at first. Connor takes a few more steps inside. “Come on, hurry. Unless you guys want to wait around and get distributed?”

That does it. The girl who’d spoken to Connor earlier hastens to the door, pokes her head out, then quickly waves to the rest of the distributes to get going. “He’s right, none of the guards can get us. Hurry, everybody.”

The teenagers follow the girl, pouring out of the dorms in a shouting, cheering wave of kids. Connor can’t help a smile as he watches the life spark back into their eyes. They’ve got a shot again, and he helped to give it to them. Maybe, just maybe, he can finally make up for what he’s done. He can reverse the tides. Little by little, Connor Lassiter can get back into the good graces of the universe.

Connor pushes further into the crowd, checking each face as he passes for Hayden or, with pitifully shrinking hope, Risa. He doesn’t really think Risa will be here, if he was in the mood for being honest with himself. She’s too important a prisoner for Heartland to just toss her in here with the rest. Still, it would make his rescue attempt very efficient if he could get both Risa and Hayden out of here in only one shot. He’ll have to suggest to Heartland that he re-organize his method of exterminating teenagers so Connor is best served by it.

The ridiculousness of that thought makes Connor smirk to himself as he wades further inside. It’s a little difficult to get through as everyone inside does their damndest to get out as fast as they can. Painfully, it reminds Connor of the mass stampede inside the doomed Graveyard when they had been found out.

Just like back then, too, Connor looks up across the crowd to find someone lingering on the outskirts, someone blond and tall who makes eye contact with Connor and breaks into this wild, bright grin that Connor hasn’t seen except in his nightmares in a very long time.

Immediately, Connor throws himself against the crowd until he’s in front of the boy. For a moment, he just stares, and then he wraps his arms around his friend, squeezing him until he almost thinks he’s forced the air from the other boy’s lungs.

“Hayden,” he says emphatically.

Hayden Upchurch, because of course it is he, hugs Connor back so hard that he picks Connor off of the ground entirely before letting him back down again. “Connor! Suns, I heard a few of the religious kids talking about how they got guardian angels when they died, but I didn’t think I’d get such a heroic one. I’ve got a poster of you up on my wall, do you want to see it?”

Connor chokes out a laugh, eliciting a proud grin from Hayden when they finally break apart. “Yeah, I totally believe that the PC let you have an Akron AWOL poster in their harvest colony. That’s such a bad joke, man.”

Hayden snorts. “They only allowed me to put it up because I promised I’d get them a signed copy. Do you carry a pen with you, or should I get one of my own? You know I have to honor my promises.”

Connor just grins. “How about you keep your promise to shoot those starspawn in the legs if you ever saw them again?”

“That sounds good to me, too,” Hayden assures him. “Now come on, I want to get out of here. I don't fancy the idea of spending any more time, even in these fine living conditions.”

Connor casts one last glance over Hayden’s shoulder, but the throngs of AWOLs have already started to disperse, and he doesn’t see a particular brunette girl anywhere. “Hayden– you haven’t seen–” 

He can’t quite get the words out, but Hayden, careful as ever, figures out what he’s trying to say. He puts a sympathetic hand on Connor’s shoulder, gently but firmly steering him out of the dorms. “No, Connor. Risa isn’t here. I’ve been looking out for both of you in case either of you turned up, you know that, but she never showed. I’m sorry, man.”

“No problem,” Connor says with a heavy heart. “I didn’t really think she’d end up here, anyway.”

“The two of you split?” Hayden asks, surprised. “I thought you were together forever.”

Connor shoots him a questionable frown. “What in the stars are you talking about?”

Hayden chuckles, even as stray gunfire from the cops rakes towards them. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The two of you were practically joined at the hip. It used to drive me crazy in the Graveyard, actually. Jeevan and I had a bet going on how long it would take the two of you to finally spill your lovesick little guts. Speaking of which, how long did it take?”

Hayden spares one quick glance at Connor’s face as the two of them run towards the exit and winces. “Don’t tell me you never said a thing. Connor, you’ve been leading that poor girl on for months.”

“It’s not that,” Connor protests. “And come on, seriously? A bet? I didn’t even realize I liked her until just recently.”

At the entrance to the service hallway, Lev joins them just early enough to hear the end of the conversation. “You’re talking about Risa, right? How they act like they’re supposed to be together forever?”

“Yes,” Hayden says emphatically. “Thank you.”

Connor sputters. “That’s absurd. Lev, Risa and I were arguing like crazy when you were there. Don’t join Hayden’s side, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You should absolutely join Hayden’s side,” Hayden says. “Hayden is always right.”

“He’s right about this,” Lev says as they race down the corridor. Then, to Hayden, “It’s the way they look at each other, right? They can’t stop staring. At first, I thought he had an eye problem or something.”

“Hey,” Connor complains, but Hayden just throws up his arms in victory.

“Exactly! The staring thing! Suns, they were hopeless. You’d think they got married years ago.”

“Can we please focus on getting out of here without dying?” Connor begs.

Were they anywhere but here, he’s certain he would have been ignored, but the rapid gunfire of Juvey-cops can derail any conversation. “Fine, but we’re definitely talking about this later,” Hayden warns.

“I’ll do my best to miss it,” Connor grumbles under his breath. Maybe he should have insisted that Lev stay back at the house, or told him that he wouldn’t ever get along with Hayden so he shouldn’t bother trying. Anything to avoid whatever surreal hell this is.

It takes a while to get all of the Graveyard AWOLs back to the house Lev’s friends are using as their hideout. The journey isn’t totally smooth, either:  two Chancefolk and three distributes get shot as they’re running. Although the wounds aren’t life-threatening, every person with an injury is out of the final rescue, and Connor needs every single soul he can get so they’re not totally outnumbered.

Once back inside, Connor and Lev sit Hayden down to explain their plan. At the end, Hayden stares at both of them, obviously baffled. “I’m sorry, you want me to do another radio show? And that’s going to save the galaxy?”

Lev nods. “You would be surprised how many people can be saved just by hearing one voice. Or how many already have. You’re well known in the groups of people protecting AWOLs. What you need is to reach everybody else. Sound the alarm so they know it’s time to come out of hiding.”

Hayden shakes his head in disbelief. “This plan makes no sense. If the galaxy can hear me, so can the Proactive Citizenry. They’ll know we’re coming, and they way outnumber us, especially if we tell them when and where we’re attacking.”

“They already know we’re going to attack,” Connor assures him. “They knew that the second they took Risa. The only thing they’re not expecting is how many people are going to show up. If they hear your broadcast, fine. Heartland is assuming that everyone is going to brush it off again like they have all this time.”

“And we’re sure that they won’t just brush it off again?” Hayden asks, clearly dubious.

“I’m sure,” Lev answers. “I’ve been traveling all over the world since Connor convinced me to abandon my tithing. I’ve seen a lot of people in a lot of places, but everywhere, they’re starting to wonder if distribution is really the right way to go. We’ve got a serious chance now of changing their minds.”

Connor nods in agreement. “That’s the problem with Heartland, he’s gotten overconfident. He assumes that things will be the same way they’ve always been, but that’s not the case anymore. Times are changing, even if he hasn’t realized it yet. The time of distribution is over. We get to live again.”

Hayden whistles under his breath. “Damn, nice speech. Are we sure you’re not the one who should be making this broadcast?”

Connor chuckles. “Trust me, man, you’re the one with the star power. It’s your show, we’re all just along for the ride.”

Hayden’s bright spark of a grin shines again. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better thing. Out of curiosity, how in sunfire is my broadcast reaching the entire galaxy? I mean, my old signal barely made it a few star systems over. There’s no way I can reach everybody on my old tech, plus it was all blown up when the Graveyard went nuclear. Unless the two of you went scavenger hunting around that wreck, we need more comms equipment.”

“Consider that settled,” Lev says. “I’ve got some stuff from an anonymous donor, really nice gear. They’ll be able to hear you from Centerworld all the way to the outer reaches.”

Hayden rubs his hands together excitedly. “In that case, I think it’s time for a show.”

Lev takes the two of them to the room where they’ve been storing the comms gear. He informs them that the Chancefolk have been using this place as a home base for technology and missions operations, hence why so much equipment has been stored up. Hayden’s eyes light up when he sees the new gear, and can’t contain his excitement as he rattles off all the specs of this top-notch equipment. Several times, he has to be reminded that he’s not just here to sightsee, but actually record something.

At last, after some quick tune-ups and test runs, Hayden finds his old frequency and starts to talk. He planned out a loose script with them beforehand, mainly just a few talking points, but they’re more than happy to let Hayden run wild with whatever he comes up with. So long as it gets to the main conclusion in the end, of course.

“I’m not dead,” Hayden announces dramatically to the microphone, “That may come as a surprise to some of you, given the recent lapse in broadcasts, but Radio Free Hayden is still alive, and so am I. So are runaway distributes across the galaxy, or so I hear. Personally, I have Connor Lassiter to thank for my survival. We’re still alive. AWOLs, if you’re listening, I hope you’re still out there, still whole. I’m glad to be back, but I need something from you.”

Hayden takes a deep breath before continuing. “The Collective wants your pieces. All we did was live, and yet total strangers are perfectly willing to tear us apart just because our parents and State Homes gave the say-so. I know this is wrong, and so do you, listeners. However, for once we’ve got a chance to fight back. I need you all to come to Dandrich-IV. Yes, in Centerworld. We’re making a stand against the Collective, and that means we have to go to their home base. I’ll relay the coordinates in time, but I need everyone to show up and be willing to fight. I’m sure all of you remember Risa Ward, a good friend of mine and Connor’s. We need to save her life, listeners, just as she saved your lives by proving that AWOLs could exist out there in the open sky. She’s our friend, and she’s your friend. Let’s get her back.”

Hayden sends a nervous glance Connor’s way, but Connor just responds with a single thumbs up. Hayden’s doing great, now he has to send it home. “We were never meant to survive for long, you know. The Graveyard proved otherwise. Connor and Risa and I, we did our best to show you that we’re real kids, worthy of living even if someone decided otherwise. I know that we deserve to live. We all know it. The Collective is trying to make you think that the fate of the galaxy depends on all of us dying for the cause, but that’s not true.”

“There is nothing any of us can do. We are children. We are kids. As a species, it takes us years to be able to tie our own shoelaces. We’re not even able to drive a hovercar until almost a fifth of our life has gone by. Why, then, is it that the burden of fixing an entire society falls to us? Maybe it’s because we’re the only ones left to care. We’re going to die anyway, listeners. We might as well die doing something worthwhile. Follow me to Dandrich-IV. We’re going to make a stand. We will be heard. And if we lose our lives out there, at least it’s more living than we would have done if we’d been distributed at the start.”

Connor’s heart is pounding in his chest. Surrounded by his equipment, Hayden’s lip curls. “Besides, our enemy won’t understand what it’s like to fear for his life. Did you know that the head of the Proactive Citizenry hasn’t been honoring his promise to only give distributed parts back to the galaxy? The CEO of the PC is a man named Dorian Heartland. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because he’s been around since old-Earth days. He’s been cheating death by swapping out his own rotting parts with fresh ones from kids. To all the adult listeners out there, do you think your children deserve to die so some rich guy out there can have eternal life? To the new generation, do you want your life to go to some man who’s already had more than his fair share of lifetimes?”

“We’re taking back our lives, listeners. We’re winning the war. I want to see you at the gates of the PC. I want you to make a change that generations after us will remember. I’m sending you the coordinates now. If you believe in life, I’ll meet you there. One last time, I’m signing off with everyone’s favorite tune. And remember– the truth will keep you whole.”

With that, Hayden decisively presses the button to end his recording. The grainy beats of some old-Earth song fills the room. Hayden closes his eyes, basking in the sound, his chest rising and falling dramatically. Connor, too, feels as if he’s undergone some great physical exertion, and all he was doing was listening.

When the last bars of the song fade from Connor’s ears, he breathes out unsteadily, not sure what to do in the face of this sudden stillness. “That was incredible,” he says.

Hayden cracks a tired grin. “Thanks. Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

Lev shakes his head in awe. “Not a chance. Man, if you hadn’t been slated for distribution– if you could have lived a normal life– you would have made a killing as an actor or something. You’ve got a knack for speeches.”

Hayden’s face twists. “A lot would have happened if we’d had normal lives. You’d still be with your families. I’d be with mine. They had a lot of rich actor friends. Maybe they would have sent me into that life. Who knows.”

Connor’s heart sinks at the grief plainly written on Hayden’s face. “A lot would have changed if we were never supposed to be distributed. We probably never would have met. I’d be a completely different person.”

“So would I,” Lev echoes hollowly.

“So would I,” Hayden repeats, his voice distant and toneless. All of a sudden, his head snaps up, and he makes eye contact with both of them in a row, quick and fierce. “I’m glad we met. I didn’t want to die, obviously, but I’m glad to have you guys. And Risa, and Jeevan, and everybody else. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything, but I do want to end the circumstances that brought us together. It doesn’t mean I like you guys any less, just that–”

His voice breaks off unevenly, but Connor can fill in the gaps. “Just that no one else should have to die even though we lived.”

“Exactly,” Hayden says.

Lev nods slowly. “We’ve got a chance to turn things around. All we have to do is wait and see how many people heard your signal.”

Although he hates to break the tentative peace that’s settled over them, Connor still has to ask:  “What if nobody comes?”

Lev looks at him with grim determination. “Then we go in alone, and save Risa or die trying. We won’t hide in the shadows anymore. And if we die in there, then our blood is on the hands of everyone who didn’t participate. Maybe that’ll move them even more than Hayden’s speech.”

The back of Connor’s throat is raw like acid, but he makes a sound of agreement. Lev is right. Whatever happens from here on out, Connor will still go into Dorian Heartland’s center, and he will find Risa. Maybe he’ll have an army at his back, maybe he’ll only have a couple of friends. But Risa will be found, and for once, Heartland won’t have the last laugh. That, at least, he can guarantee.

They allow themselves a couple of standard hours for everyone to show up. As it turns out, they don’t have to wait that long. Within half an hour, ships are already starting to tune up. Voices are popping up on Hayden’s frequency, different people chartering trips together or announcing that they’ll be meeting Hayden on Dandrich-IV. It occurs to Connor, listening to all of these strangers he’s never met saying that they’ll follow him to death or salvation, that he may have started a revolution, or at least helped build a spark into a blaze.

If this inferno consumes them all, at least Connor’s last hours will have been something bright, something beautiful. He’s had an awful lot of time to run and hide. At some point, he has to turn that restless energy into a fight. Now is the time.

He’s interrupted from his reverie by Lev running into the room. The younger boy can hardly manage a word, too excited by something outside. He gestures for Connor to follow, and Connor doesn’t need any extra encouragement, breaking into a run as the two boys hurry from the room.

Lev leads Connor to the door of the house, then pushes it open. Connor stands for a moment on the threshold, blinking in the light, staring in abject astonishment at all of the faces looking expectantly at him. Some are strangers. There are adults and children, bodies young and old. Some bear the wounds of previous fights. Others wear clothes so nice Connor is certain that they must have come from Centerworld itself. All in all, there are dozens of people scattered around the road leading to their hideout, maybe even hundreds, and more arrive by the minute.

“So many people,” he chokes out in a daze.

Hayden emerges from the house by his side, holding up a hand to wave to the gathered crowds with a dazzling grin. “Turns out a lot more people believe in the cause than you think. Still having trouble believing that we’ll win?”

“Not anymore,” Connor manages. “I mean, I didn’t even know that many strangers knew who I was.”

“They’re not just strangers,” Lev corrects.

And, looking out at the throngs of people, Connor realizes that he’s right. Shading his eyes from the sun, he recognizes Bam, Mai, Diego, and the rest of the group that had saved him when Heartland first tried to get to Connor. He leaves his friends at the doorstep, weaving through the crowds until he’s in front of them.

“You guys came,” he says in a daze.

Bam nods impatiently, although she can’t seem to hide a proud grin. “You kept your promise.”

“Plus, someone wanted to meet her hero,” Mai adds. Bam elbows her in the ribs, but the embarrassment on the girl’s face shows some truth to the statement.

“Go talk to him,” Connor encourages. “Hayden always likes meeting new people.”

He doesn’t stick around to see if Bam goes or not, distracted by another face in the crowds.

At first, he can’t quite place the old woman in the security uniform, but then she sighs deeply at the confusion on his face and the name instantly comes back to him. “Sonia?” Connor asks in astonishment. It’s the woman who rescued him and Risa at the OH-10 boundary checkpoint.

“Don’t look so surprised, boy,” Sonia says irritably. “I saved you once before, I assumed I’d have to do it again. Didn’t expect this sort of support, though.”

For once, the perpetual glower on her face lightens into a half smile. “I’m proud, Connor Lassiter. This change is a long time coming.”

“It is,” Connor agrees. Another figure emerging from the crowd calls his attention yet again, and he heads past Sonia to come to a stop in front of one particular cyborg that Connor never thought he’d see again.

At first, all of Connor’s systems go on high alert. Then, before Connor can even ask what in sunfire he’s doing here, Cam holds up a mechanical hand and answers the unspoken question, “I’m here for Risa, not for you. Trust me. She saved my life by getting me off the planet. I need to return the favor, and for real this time. In all honesty. To be completely genuine.”

Connor chuckles. “I think we’re in agreement there.”

He spins in a slow circle, still surprised by all of these faces smiling at him, ready to go to war so that he and every other teenager there can live. When he stops moving, another person has replaced Cam.

Connor’s heart lurches in his throat. “Grace,” he says. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Grace Skinner taps her fingers together, her expression as practical as ever. “I didn’t know either,” she answers honestly. “I think it’s good, though. That man has to pay for what he did to Argie. He killed my brother. I want to be part of the group that kills him. It’s only fair.”

“That sounds good to me,” Connor admits. “And Grace– I’m sorry. Even still.”

“I know,” she tells him. “Let’s get our revenge, then.”

A careful smile rises to Connor’s lips. This emotion coasting over him in waves isn’t happiness, not exactly, but it feels pretty damn good, too. Looking around at all of these people, the Chancefolk talking to Lev, the crowds of old friends from the Graveyard, the AWOLs and adults who have united under this one banner, Connor realizes that he’s finally got his army. The only thing left, then, is to get his girl.

Dorian Heartland has no idea what’s about to hit him.

unwind tag list: @locke-writes, @reinekes-fox, @sirofreak

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#unwind #unwind imagines #unwind oneshot #unwind series #unwind fanfic #unwind dystology #unwind dystology imagines #unwind dystology oneshot #unwind dystology series #unwind dystology fanfic #connor lassiter #connor lassiter imagines #connor lassiter oneshot #connor lassiter series #connor lassiter fanfic #risa ward #risa ward imagines #risa ward oneshot #risa ward series #risa ward fanfic #conrisa #connor x risa #connor lassiter x risa ward

[akesdraws-blog]

🏔️Immovable Mountain🏔️

Warnings: A little long, spelling mistakes and heartbreak

🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️

"Fast as the wind, silent as the forest, rough and devastating as fire, motionless as a mountain.

Reference is made to chapter seven of "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu.

I heard that little piece of literature a long time ago, it seemed a bit confusing at first, but that changed when I met them.

I was friends with Abril, we started out as work colleagues who soon became closer, and one day she introduced me to those unusual friends, even though she knew that the word "normal" was not in Abril's vocabulary, so I It wasn't that unexpected, but of course it took me by surprise.

But as I slowly became familiar with each of the turtles the more I adored them, especially him.

The leader of his team, I don't even know how it happened, but when I saw him it just took my breath away, those beautiful blue eyes, his discipline for everything, and gosh, the times I could see him train left me with my head in the clouds.

And I think maybe it was a little obvious with my attraction to Leonardo, because his brothers kept pestering me with little jokes, although it didn't bother me at all, but it did make my face change color.

And I always believed that love is not a game to just watch, so I took a risk.

I knew I couldn't just tell him, I had my own well-structured plan... Although I might have had a little help from his brothers.

-Operation make the leader fall in love without fear, take action-

-Seriously? Is that the name?-

- Ó abbreviated O.M.L.F.L.W.F.-

-Brother, I don't even know how to pronounce that-

It gave me encouragement to know that his brothers agreed with him trying to win Leo's heart, I even asked his teacher and father Splinter for his blessing, because I know how important he is to Leo.

S. -It doesn't bother me that such a good young woman wants to be with my son, you have my blessing-

Y/N. -Really?! Thank you very much Mr. Splinter!-

S. -However, I must warn you that Leonardo can be someone very difficult and nothing is guaranteed... he is like an immovable mountain-

Y/N. -I know, but I'm willing to try to take that "Immovable Mountain"-

S. -Then I wish you luck-

And with Splinter's blessing it could begin.

Step one: -Warm Greetings and a special nickname-

Every day that he went to visit them at the lair, Leonardo was always the first one he greeted, he almost always found him meditating on that pedestal, so sometimes the greetings were accompanied by a surprise hug from behind the enormous shell, although it was not surprising that for him leader was not an act of surprise, because he could hear my footsteps perfectly.

First attempt:

-Good morning Le!-

-My name is Leonardo-

Second try:

-Hello Leon!-

-It's Leonardo-

Third try:

-Hello Angry Baby!-

-I passed the infant stage a long time ago for you to call me that-

Fourth Tried:

-Good morning Kanmi!-

-Do you know what it means?-

-Of course!-

-Then don't say it again-

And so the first step failed, but I didn't want to give up yet.

Step Two: -Special Gifts-

Then there were some special gifts, I knew some of Leo's tastes, and in others his brothers helped me.

The first attempt was a book of Japanese poems, Leo had one that was already a bit worn, and although it took me too long to find the same author, I finally succeeded, getting it in a Japanese antiques store.

-Hello Leo! I have something special for you- I speak excitedly to take the book out of the backpack

-"The bird and the flower"- read the title without having any expression on his face

-You don't like it? I know it's not a new edition- before continuing to talk, you just saw how he returned to his meditation, closing his eyes -I understand, you can't interrupt the meditation... I'll leave it here- you finished speaking to let him the book aside.

°First attempt: Failed°

The Second Attempt was a type of Jasmin tea and dried cinnamon leaves, you had investigated that the combination of both resulted in a pleasant infusion that allowed you to have a restful sleep, in addition to which you had asked donnie for help to make sure it was not harmful for the turtles, and for your luck it was not.

-I'm in the middle of something Y / N, what do you need?-Leonardo spoke while he paused his reading of that old book

-Did you hear me?- you asked and you only saw how he nodded his head -Well, I know you like tea, so I brought you one that will help you sleep well- you finished speaking to take out a glass jar that contained the herbs from the tea.

-He will help us after the patrol- he finished saying to go back to his reading -You can leave it on the kitchen table- he said the last thing while he turned the page.

Y/N. -Oh, yes, of course... Everyone will like it for sure- you said the last thing, a little disconcerted to leave the jar in the kitchen.

°Second Attempt: Failed°

The Third Attempt was a scented candle, it was a suggestion from the boys, and I wasn't looking for a specific one, I was looking for one that Leo liked and I found it, a candle with the scent of green tea, and the boys told me that they would also look for one smelling like melon, I had no idea why that specific smell, and honestly I was a little scared this time, I mean, it's normal after your previous attempts failed colossally.

-Hi Leo!- You spoke loudly but you couldn't see him anywhere

-I'm sorry Y/N, the boys left unexpectedly at the police station- April spoke from the sofa while eating a couple of peas with wasabi -Have you brought anything else for Leo?- I ask mischievously

-I understand, duty is duty- upon hearing that question you blushed, you were too obvious with your intentions -Something like that, can you give it to him this time?- you asked taking out the pair of candles and giving them to the redhead

-Seriously? I mean, there's no problem but... You don't want to wait for it?-I ask while he took the candles and smelled them lightly with a smile

-I must get home earlier, you know how the streets are later and the heroes are not on duty- you said amused to say goodbye with a smile as you left

-Melon, it smells like her- she said with a smile

°Third Attempt: ??°

Honestly on the third try you didn't want a total rejection like the last few times, you just texted the guys to tell them you were home, you got a reply from everyone except Leo, just those horrible “seen” moths.

You were considering abandoning the plan, if it weren't for the boys, the brothers always helped you keep your spirits up, you had become a very close friend to them like April, and something told you that the boys wanted you as a future sister-in-law

-We still have two more steps, remember?-

-Yes, it cannot fail-

-Do you still want to do it?-

-Well... A warrior doesn't give up without a fight, right?-

-That's how it is spoken!-

After Steps One and Two failed, we were now going to Step Three “Attentions”.

The next one wasn't that difficult, since it was something you started doing in the beginning, something simple like cleaning the bonsai shelf a bit, aka "Leo's babies", you cleaned the remains of candle wax that were on the shelf, pedestal where he always meditated, and now you were going to the dojo, although there wasn't much to do since Leo always kept it impeccable.

-Not the floors, neither were the weapons, was there ever a pinch of dust here?- You stared at the dojo trying to find something to clean and after getting closer to the weapons to see them, noticing that the leather on the handle was quite worn - Could you help me with this-

It only took you 5 minutes to go to the store to buy new straps, and you started with Raph's which was a maroon red leather, then you went through Mikey's nunchucks in which you used an orange leather with some small prints of smiley faces, then it was Donnie's that was the least worn since he often used the modified one that he always carried, and finally Leo's katanas, you could see how these were the most worn, you could tell how much I train with them, you came to think how many times he stayed up late to perfect his technique, until it was perfect, you began to remove the worn leather from one of the katanas to put the new leather on it electric blue like the color of his eyes.

-I hope he likes it- you murmured with a smile to take the other katana and be able to start removing the leather carefully

-What do you think you're doing?! - I shout loudly as he entered the dojo

You admitted that seeing Leo suddenly enter the dojo surprised you a lot, and even more so because you saw him agitated, it seemed that he had finished fighting with destroyer again.

But before I could ask if he was alright, he rushed over to take the katana from you.

-Who told you that you could take my things?-He kept his weapon behind him

-I sent them a message to see if they agreed, what's the problem?- you just got up while dropping the excess leather

-And did you see that I answered?- I ask with a serious tone

-Well... No, but I thought - you just started backing up instinctively

-Well, stop believing, a ninja's weapon is sacred and only the bearer of it can manipulate it!-He raised his voice while advancing at the same time that you backed down

-I just wanted to do something special for you- you had no idea why you felt that way, it was as if you were being intimidated by a huge predator

As you backed away and Leonardo got closer, you didn't notice that it was as if he was leading you to the exit until you only saw the entrance to one side of you, you didn't imagine one day feeling that way when facing Leo like that.

-I appreciate the attention you have, but I only put up with it for my brothers, I know they like you- I rubbed his forehead annoyed while he backed up a bit as if thinking

-I love them too, and I'm grateful to them, but everything I do has been for you- you couldn't keep quiet anymore, if you had to be direct you would be

-Well, I don't want anything from you!-I speak loudly when he turned to see you and hit the side of your head with force

You could hear how the blow on the wall resounded like a cold echo throughout the dojo, your body trembled from that cold and cruel look with which the leader saw you, there was not a single hint of those compassionate eyes and full of tenderness from those who fell madly in love, now you saw eyes that simply generated fear.

-Oh... I understand... I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding- you only forced a smile

-What's wrong? Is everything okay?- the redhead quickly entered the dojo to see them both

-We heard the blow from the living room, what's wrong?- the black-haired man came behind -or is it just me, or can the tension be seen right now?- I speak a little funny to try to alleviate the moment

-I think I'm not feeling well... Can you take me home?- you spoke to see April who understood immediately

A. -Casey, can you take her to your car?- he asked the black-haired man, who just nodded as he took you out of the place -Leo... I know his patrol was very tense this time, but you don't have to take it out on everyone- it was the only thing the redhead said to leave

Casey and April took you home, they both knew something was wrong with you but you still insist that everything was fine, but they could see through that bitter smile you had on your face, but despite everything and with a lot of insistence just you managed to get April to go home, and Casey stayed to take care of you, you gave her some sheets since it didn't look like she was going to leave soon, while you told her that you would go to sleep a little earlier and you locked yourself in your room.

-Y/N, are you okay?-

-Why did you leave like that? You didn't even greet us! 😭-

-Shut up mikey, April told us that you felt bad, how do you feel flea?-

-Do you need me to contact a doctor near your location?-

-I'm fine guys, I'll get some sleep, thanks for worrying-chat.

Seeing the boys' concern made me feel a little good, but I didn't like lying to them, when I turned off the phone I couldn't take it anymore, tears started to come out of my eyes and that smile that I tried so hard to maintain broke like a smile mask falling to pieces, he could only remember that look from the leader.

-Hey little girl, are you okay?- He spoke from the other side of the door -I heard you whimpering, your apartment gets very quiet and it was impossible to hear you-

-Don't worry... I'm fine- you tried to speak as normal as possible

-Can you say it again... Without your voice shaking?- the serious but friendly voice of the black-haired man was heard

-I... I'm fine... I... I'm not fine- you couldn't control yourself anymore and you fell into tears

After a while Casey was in your room, sitting next to you patting you gently on the back while you were lying on your bed, you had already told him what had happened, the fact that he had listened to you left you calmer.

-Don't feel bad... I mean, they scared me too the first time I met them- I was trying to cheer you up

-It's not that- you tightened the sheet -It's just... I've never seen that look in Leo and it scares me to think that I'm the cause for him to have that look- once again the tears threatened to come out

-he was just stressed and suddenly exploded- he began to wish that it was April who had stayed instead of him

-I made it explode- you muttered as you buried your face in the pillow.

After what happened, you were absent from the lair for a while, you never thought that one day you would appreciate the overload of work that your boss gave you, it kept you busy and it was the perfect excuse, but you missed your favorite turtles a lot.

A few weeks passed without her going to see them, until once she finished all the work and being dragged by April, she was back in the sewers.

-Guys! Guess who I brought?- Abril spoke loudly to get everyone's attention

-Baby Angel!- Mikey yelled to quickly hug you while she lifted you up in the air -Don't abandon us again!- He whimpered while rubbing her cheek on your head

-Okay, okay... I won't go away for so long- you thought Mikey's attitude was adorable and then you saw Raph and Donnie -I already saw them! Where's my hug?- you spoke to them while you extended your arms

You soon had the three turtles hugging you, standing in the middle of a huge pile of shells, as April left them to go say hello to Splinter.

-Are you okay?- I ask in a low murmur

-Yes, I am- you answered in a similar murmur

-Calm down, with the last step you will surely make it- Mikey spoke excitedly but he only saw how you shook your head

-What's wrong? We only have one thing left to try- Raph intervened as he looked at her

-I understood some things, and it's best to stop with this- you snuggled into the arms of the three huge turtles -Maybe I'm not their sister-in-law... But what about a sister? I can still bother them like this- you spoke to show them a big smile

-Oh yes! I always wanted a sister!-

-You would be the least of all-

-That's obvious, she is a flea is perfect as the younger sister-

-Of course, I'll be the biggest huge baby Red!-

Soon they started a small fight, you were only able to free yourself when you proposed a night of video games, while they were getting ready you were able to go say hello to Splinter, and although you thanked him for the previous blessing, you also informed him that you would stop trying to be something else with Leo, although the idea Having a new daughter didn't bother him either, you were able to leave the dojo to go with the rest.

But as you walked you saw Leonardo on that pedestal, meditating as always, still taking your breath away but you were ready to accept it, ready to accept something that wasn't going to happen.

-Good morning Leonardo- was the only thing you said to pass by his side

-Baby Angel, hurry up! - Mikey shouted from the living room

-Yes, hurry up for your defeat!-Raph spoke loudly while he had one of the controls in his hand

-Give me the control to make Baby Red swallow his words!- you spoke with a smile to go with the rest

Love is not a bystander game, you must learn to take the first step to try, but you must also learn to stop when necessary, otherwise you could damage your own heart later.

🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️

These days have not been the happiest so to speak.

Have you seen the Pixar movie "Inside Out"?

It is as if now in my head who is in control is "Sadness"

So I needed to get this out of my mind, and you can't imagine how much I've cried imagining each scene while writing it.

🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️

I was debating a lot on whether to add the tags or not, since this was more of a vent, but I liked the result.

Maybe later I'll do the version from Leo's perspective.

Tags:

@post-apocalyptic-daydream . @turtle-babe83 . @turtlesmakemehappy . @dilucsflame33 . @thelaundrybitch . @scholastic-dragon . @leosgirl82 . @tmnt-tychou . @mackbunny . @happymoonangel .

#TMNT #tmnt fandom #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #bayverse turtles #bayverse donatello #bayverse raphael #bayverse leonardo #bayverse michelangelo #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #tmnt leo #tmnt donnie #sad writing #heartbreak girl #tmnt heartbreak

[funtomfactory]

Snake headcanons

(Because I can and I will)

Snakes have no taste buds. Though his tongue is also forked like that of his slithering companions, Snake does have a sense of taste, but it's not that strong, hence why he couldn't tell the difference between the two lemon-flavoured sweets. He also prefers strong-tasting foods and a lit of spices.

Though his sense of smell isn't as highly developed as that of his companions, Snake does smell in stereo too.

Though he might not look the part, Snake is actually pretty strong: some of the snakes he handles (I'm looking at you, Wilde) have an average species weight of anywhere from 10-15 kilograms (22-33 lbs) (note: this is however the estimated average for the females of the species, but still). He's also lean, and has quite a lot of stamina.

Snake doesn't mind if people talk to him or to the snakes directly; he'll gladly reply either way.

Snake's cowlick doesn't just move along with emotions (like trembling when he's nervous or spiking when he's shocked), it is also sensitive to environmental changes; Snake can sometimes tell from which direction wind is blowing just by feeling his cowlick move, much like an antenna.

Snake is mostly shy around strangers. True, he's also not that very talkative and won't take much initiative, but he likes being in the company of the people he trusts.

Snake collects shed skins from his snakes, especially the better preserved ones. Sometimes, he includes them in gifts to others.

Snake was ordered by Sebastian to train with the horses to help them get used to his friends. Horses tend to be afraid of snakes, but those of the estate have now become indifferent to them.

Snake, on principle, doesn't have a favourite snake or snake species; he loves them all equally.

Within the ranks of his extraordinary "family", Snake actually has a role akin to that of a big brother; Wordsworth is like the wise (grand)father, whom is even held in high regard by Snake himself.

The snakes like to sleep in bed with him, because he is "cozy and warm". Finny has expressed his willingness to let them sleep with him as well, but he tosses around a lot at night, making Snake scared that he might accidentally hurt one of the snakes.

Snake tends to be insecure and hasn't had any proper upbringing, making his job as a footman rather difficult for him, though he tries his best.

When Nina Hopkins came in for a fitting of his work clothes, he was reluctant to show his skin to her, but to his surprise, instead of grossing out, Nina immediately jumped into her fabrics to see if she had one that "wouldn't itch his sensitive skin".

In addition to having different voices for the snakes, Snake also has a different style of handwriting for each snake, though it does blur together a little when he tries to write fast.

Snake actually enjoys cooking as well; he likes the warmth of the stove and the bubbling sound liquids make when they're being cooked.

Though he hasn't worn it in a while, Snake still owns his regular circus outfit.

Snake venom does affect Snake, but never to the point of it causing serious injury or risk of death, even from the more lethal snakes.

All the snakes were named after famous authors and poets before Snake ever even learned how to read; the idea came from Wordsworth, who was owned by a herpetologist who liked to read to the reptilians before he came into Snake's possession.

Doll insisted on staying by his side at all times when he first caem to the circus. Much to the chagrin of the other members, out of fear for Doll being bitten by the Snakes, Doll and Snake shared a tent for a while, which is also how the snakes grew accustomed to being handled by Doll as well.

Doll also learned Snake how to dance.

Out of all the first string members, it took Snake the longest to get along with Peter, because of Peter's tendency to make sarcastic jokes, and Snake not understanding it's all in jest.

Let me know if you'd like more of these, I could ramble on for hours lol.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #snake #snake's snakes #manga #footman #noah's ark #circus #doll #peter #headcanons #hcs

[luxielovesparkles]

Start to write this but im into stress time rn and dont know if i will make something of it

Of course the aim of it, it to turn it into my ship later

Anyways

Jounouchi was driving that night, going back from a late meeting when he saw something lying down on the road, looking a lot like a human form.

"Is that a human ?" He frowned, suspicious.

Alerted he stopped his motorbike to go to see the person and what a surprise.

"Wait !? Isn't that … Kaiba ?" Pulling the man on his back to look at him better, the man was on the missing list for like 5 years now ! Everyone thought he was dead at this point but here we go, between all the humans in this city, it's him that found him out of nowhere ! Unconscious on the road, what a joke !

Kaiba was wearing his blue and black space suit with a headpiece and his duel disk but both looked worn out, like they were in a centrifuge.

Jounouchi called an ambulance after he made sure Kaiba was breathing and not dead already and then he called Mokuba, the young man was the new CEO of Kaiba Corps and they have been in touch since Jounouchi started to be a pro duelist.

"Hey Mokuba ? Hm i'm sorry i know it's late to call but … " he hesitated an instant looking at the brunette on the floor "seen like I found your brother" he rubbed his neck.

"What are you saying Jounouchi ? Aren't you drunk ?" He says with a tired voice, he can't believe the older man.

"No, no listen ! It's Kaiba ! I swear !" he can ear the ambulance coming "the ambulance is coming, i will call you back"

*** 

He opened his eyes and shut them just as fast, the white around him was too much.

He didn't know where he was, didn't recall a single thing to be true, did he quit the afterlife ? It was so hard to reach it but it was so much difficult to stay here where living doesn't have rights, he thought that dueling Atem could be just a question of hours.

The sound around finally reached his ears, the slow sound of his battling heart on the monitor and the far away voices of people walking on the corridor, he was sure now, he was back to the present life.

He tried to open his eyes a second time, feeling less dazzled but it takes some seconds to get used to it, he was staring at the white ceiling and the smell of medicine came to his nose, he was at the hospital.

He sight before turning his head to see someone asleep in the chair at the right of his bed, Mokuba, he didn't remember his little brother has grown so much before he was gone, his hair was shorter too and he looked tired, as tired as him when he was at the head of Kaiba Corps, he let everything in his brother hands but seeing his brother here make him regret it in a way.

The door opened and he was ready to see anybody except Jounouchi, the blond had his hands full with some coffees cups and he put it on the tiny table before he noticed Kaiba staring at him.

" Oh look who is awake" he smiled at him and he was feeling strange, maybe that's what being back in life again feels like.

"What are you doing here ? What happened ?" He feels like talking takes all his energy, he has to take a break to breathe, his voice feels raspy.

"That ok Kaiba, I found you unconscious on the road and Mokuba wanted me to stay" while saying that he woke up the teen boy who almost jumped out of his seat when he saw him awake.

"Oh brother you are up! Who are you feeling !?"

"Feeling like a bus rolled over me but that's ok i guess" putting his hand on the bridge of his nose to pinch it, feeling a headache coming and he looked at his brother, confused "How many times I am gone ? You look …"

"Older ?" Say mokuba with an awkward smile, nervous.

"Yes, older …"

" Seto it's been 5 years, seriously I really start to think you will never go back" he admitted with a little voice, hope to see him again was a tight line in his head before today.

Kaiba's stomach twisted at this reveal, he can't even imagine because it didn't feel like 5 years for him, it felt more like two weeks or so, guess the time span was different between the two worlds.

He had to go back to look at the ceiling for some second to swallow the pill, 5 years was a lot of time.

#ygo #jounouchi katsuya #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #ficlet #mytext #i try to reread it for bad wording but i cant put my brain on it #so sorry if my english in sloppy

[foxyslide]

🦋DIARY🌸

TW intake mentioned, cw mentioned, narcissistic mother mentioned 🙄

🌸

🌸

🌸

🌸 🌸

so what happened last weekend was this. I had this in my drafts but couldn’t finish it.

“My mother came to visit us today, started out well, she brought me more of my old clothes, wore them to the park today. Regretted wearing a skirt, not great at all while cycling. Anyway, then my mother and I started talking about cycling and she hit me with “how many kilos are you? I’m 50. I gained two kilos but you can’t see the fat on me, because I’m just eating more fruits”💀💀💀💀💀💀💀Hubby interjected by saying it doesn’t matter how many kilos she is because while cycling She’ll be loosing fat but gaining muscle weight. And my mother said no kilos are still important 💀💀💀 like no pause for thought about what she’s saying. She’s much shorter than I am so 50kg for her is still a lot, she has a belly, whereas for me I would be close to being underweight at 50kg. but from her saying that shes defo in competition with me. im determined to ”win” 🤡 she’s very proud that her legs are wayyyyy slimmer than mine. I have my fathers legs.

At the park I was feeling self conscious nothing new, but managed to get some sun for my legs lol. Hubby had brought some food enough for me too and I thought fuck it I’ll eat today and since he’s working tm i can work off all the calories cycling for several hours, so I ate around 395kcal. Later hubby mentioned that all these good looking couples are so typical, I asked him aren’t we good looking? And he said no we’re not, these guys are all toned and we’re not, i don’t know what my expression was like he saw my face and said we’re cute. I said okay. Didn’t feel great to know he doesn’t think we’re good looking lol. And if he thought that I was wondering why he decided to eat more. But then it doesn’t show on him at all. I told him I wasn’t gonna eat more. That’s it for me for the day, there’s no way I can swallow more knowing my own husband doesn’t think im good looking. I guess when he says im beautiful it’s not in the literal sense, but in the sense that everyone is beautiful.”

I told him my feelings about this later and he said of course we’re good looking just not in the beauty standard way of being fit and toned, but we’re getting there he said! We just have to keep cycling. He said if I decided to try to look like the models and wear makeup and dress up I would fit in with them. I don’t deserve him lol.

“Wanted to fast the whole day today but ruined it. At least I didn’t have more than 500kcal. The last two evenings I ate and it felt like binging, and i couldnt bare to come on tumblr because of that, was too embarrassed. but today morning after my mother left I was curious about my weight and stepped on the scale, I was so surprised to see I am 53.6kg despite all the food. Still at the park now. Haven’t done much cycling so don’t think I’ll burn many cal today.. but as long as I can fast for the rest of the day and do some yoga and stretching i should be fine.  Hubby keeps asking if I’m okay, I’m not, there’s way too many ppl and im self conscious about everything, should have worn a hoodie, im not wearing these kinds of clothes again but I’m just lying here on my phone and I’m not making it his problem, so he should just enjoy his time out until he’s ready to go home. I can’t wait to go home, I feel like doing fuck all and lying in bed. Ill be craving all the food hubby makes for himself, I can anticipate how difficult it will be to fast, but I think remembering his words will do the trick 💀💀💀💀”

he was just being honest about us, we’re not the beauty standard YET. Yesterday he told me every time we go out he’s proud to have me beside him. I don’t understand why I don’t love myself when he tells me shit like this all the time. I really don’t deserve him.

🌸

#Flowerolling #Foxyslide #🦋diary🌸

[dewdrop-writes]

Upon the icy peaks

Hello everyone! Here’s part 4 of what I’m currently calling the “Teyvat’s Wielder” series. In this part, we finally get to meet Albedo! Again, thank you everyone for your support!!

cw: mention of past injuries and trauma, feelings of panic and fear

length: 2k

<< First | < Previous | Next >

Your walk through the forest passed with ease, paths clearing up for the two of you, trees bowing in the wind slightly as if to show respect. You felt the familiar feeling of anxiety clawing its way up from the pit of your stomach towards your throat, sinking its sharp claws into the walls of it and making it difficult to breathe the closer you got to the edge of your safe haven. You vaguely recall your location and glance at your surroundings carefully. You tried your best to keep your fears at bay, so as to not frighten the ball of sunshine skipping alongside you, her warm tiny hand encased in yours.

Much too soon for your liking, the trees and bushes around you two became sparcer, finally thinning out completely and fading into the empty planes of Mondstadt. You inhaled shakily, telling yourself there was nothing to fear - you’d be back in your meadow soon enough, safe and sound.

You weren’t quite convinced by the positive thoughts you forced upon your mind.

“Did you know big brother Albedo is an…” Klee frowned, trying to recall the word, “-alchemist?” she beamed proudly as she remembered, melting away some of the worries eating at your heart.

“An alchemist?” you asked, feigning surprise. “That must be quite an important job!”

“It is!” she agreed, showing you her toothy grin.

“He works for the knights of Favonious like brother Kaeya and Master Jean!”

You nodded slowly, hoping your disdain for the people she clearly loved - that you had once loved too - wasn’t obvious.

Keeping your pace steady, yet not too fast, you arrived at the foot of the perilous mountain without any complications. You stood beside Klee, staring up at it with respectful fear. The sharp arrowlike peaks of rock were submerged in thick slate-toned clouds that cast an eternal darkness upon the area, not helping to make it look any less intimidating.

“Well, we best start moving, before it gets even darker,” you stated nervously, your eyes darting around quickly for any signs of rogue adventurers or anyone with ill intentions.

Klee seemed to agree, releasing your hand and skipping towards the trail leading up the mountain. With a nervous chuckle, you were quick to trail her, not wanting to lose sight of her in the fog.

The two of you had been walking for a while, when Klee looked at you, her round eyes brimming with surprise. 

“It’s usually much colder up here!” she noted, “even when it’s summer - master Jean always tells me to bundle up when I visit Albedo!”

You paused for a minute. She was right. You could easily recall how quickly your characters would begin to freeze upon even nearing the mountain, unless a source of heat was nearby. Now, however, the howling winds you had associated with the mountain, were instead barely-there wisps of a loving breeze, if that. It was a little chillier than the meadow you had grown accustomed to, yes, but nowhere near freezing.

“Maybe the mountain feels like being kind to us,” you mused, a half-hearted smile on your lips - but you had a feeling your words had more truth to them than intended.

As you ascended higher and higher, you could see snow clearing off the roads as soon as you approached, leaving behind safe trails for the two of you to traverse. The suffocatingly heavy clouds above began to part, allowing pale, yet warm rays of light to shine upon the two of you, lighting the path ahead. All you can do is thank Teyvat wordlessly when you notice the broken and worn down bridge you’d always had to glide over to reach albedo had been somewhat mended, a wide tree having accidentally fallen over it to mend the gaping hole in it. You lift Klee onto the bark and she looks both bewildered and excited at the sight, eagerly clasping your hand in hers as the two of you carefully cross the log. 

Soon enough, you’re stood by the familiar opening of a cave that led into a carefully crafted, yet messy laboratory. You’re relieved to see it empty of any signs of life, however Klee doesn’t share the sentiment. A disappointed pout forms on her face as she enters the cave, you carefully following her, trying to step as quietly as possible to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

The cave is a little chilly, as the torches usually lighting it have died, casting a dark veil over the area, but even that could not hide the dust and cobwebs forming in the corners of the room, making you wonder when it had last been cleaned.

“He’s not here!” Klee exclaims, sounding disappointed. 

You inhale shakily.

“How about we light up a fire and you can wait for him to return here?” you offered, a warmth spreading through you as she beams up at you happily.

“Okay!” 

She bounces over to the stands holding charred remains of coal and branches, and rises to the tips of her toes, a small flaming ball appearing in her hand. She rears her arm backwards before launching it at the target. With puffs of smoke and explosions of flame, soon enough the entire cave is lit up.

“Good job!” you praise the girl as she beams with pride. Before you can even attempt to mention leaving, she drags you over to the pot hanging over a small fire. 

“Could you help me make some food for him?” she asked, her big eyes looking up at you pleadingly.

You glance at the entrance of the cave.

Oh, what the hell.

“Sure,” you find yourself agreeing.

The two of you carefully prepared the ingredients - some of which Klee had pulled out from her basket, some of which you found lying around the lab.

You recalled the recipe for woodland dream, Albedo’s favourite dish, and did your best to cook it up, while Klee watched - intrigued.

“You’re so good at this!” she praised as you set the ingredients to simmer above the water, creating an enticing aroma that swam through the air, filling up the cave.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t have done it without your help,” you replied, cleaning your hands with fresh snow you’d picked up from the floor of the cave.

Klee giggled bashfully, before her attention was caught by an empty vase sitting on one of the tables. Her expression soured  at that.

“I never did find those cecilias for Albedo,” she mumbled, suddenly weighed down with disappointment.

You glanced at the vase that had caught her attention.

Carefully, you approached it, before picking it up and filling it up with water from a nearby wooden cask. Klee watched your movements in confusion, as you set the vase back to its original place on the table. You glanced at her and sent a smile and a wink her way, before your hands brushed against the edge of the vase, a concentrated expression now on your face. Slowly and gracefully, three stems rose from the once empty vase, tapering out at the end before exploding into beautiful white petals.

“Whoa!” Klee shouted, grinning from ear to ear as she rushed to your side, her wide eyes glued to the flowers that had appeared out of nowhere.

“That was amazing!” 

“Quite amazing indeed,” a voice cut through the cave, sending a chill down your spine and freezing you in place. You didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing at the mouth of the cave.

“Albedo!” the girl exclaimed before barreling over to the man and hugging him tight.

You took in a deep breath, before turning to face the two, hoping you would be able to escape swiftly if things turned out for the worst.

Your gaze met the seafoam blue eyes of the alchemist, and for a moment silence fell over the cave. 

Then, a gleam of sunlight brushed past the cave, briefly grazing your figure.

You watched in shock as Albedo’s eyes widened and he sank to one knee, bowing his head in respect.

“Your grace,” he exhaled, to your bewilderment.

Klee’s eyes darted between the two of you, confusion overtaking her joyous features.

“What’s going on, Albedo?” she asked meekly.

Albedo glanced up at you, before slowly rising to his feet and turned to Klee.

“That,” he peeked at you with an unreadable expression, “is our Creator.”

You stumbled backwards at his words, bumping against the table you’d been standing by. Hearing the items on it wobble, your hands grip the edge of it as you stare at the blond with the eyes of a deer caught in headlights.

Klee looks at you in awe after hearing Albedo’s words, almost shaking with excitement. Meanwhile, Albedo is as composed as ever, eyeing you with a hard-to-read gaze that studies every facet of your being.

“Look, I…please don’t hurt me,” you manage to whisper, the fear tightening its claws around your throat once more as you hear the rushing of your blood ringing in your ears.

Albedo’s sharp brows knit together, drawing a furrowed line between them.

“Hurt?” he questioned, his posture stiffening.

Sensing the confusion in his voice at your words, your body eased slightly. Still, your eyes were glued to the sword strapped to his side.

His eyes wordlessly followed your gaze and his lips parted in a soft “ah”. With slow, calculated movements, his gloved hand reached for the belt his scabbard rested on - and soon enough, the weapon clattered to the ground with a thud that echoed through the cave. You couldn’t help but gasp quietly, the sound sending a wave of fear through your body despite your best efforts.

“Has…someone hurt you, your grace?” he asked in a calm, even tone.

You stare at him in disbelief.

A heavy silence hung above the cave and you felt it closing in, clenching your eyes shut as memories of the people that hurt you - of what they did to you - threaten to spill over the delicate barrier you had built to keep them at bay.

The alchemist took in a deep breath and turned to the girl by his side. 

“Klee, could you run out and gather some mint for us? We need to make some tea,” he said, keeping his eyes on you, watching you fighting against the demons in your head that threatened to take you down any minute.

Klee stole a glance at you, but nodded.

“You can count on me, ‘bedo!” she called out as she ran off to fulfil the request she’d received. 

“Your grace…” Albedo hesitantly spoke after a moment, unsure of what to say or do in this situation. The many years he’d spent in this world, studying everything he could, had not prepared him to comfort a god.

“(Name),” you whispered, a tear trickling down your cheek despite how tightly you’d screwed your eyes shut. The lump in your throat expanded, forcing a bitter taste into your mouth.

“(Name)...” he repeated slowly, nodding. Hesitantly, he took a step closer.

“I ask again, your- apologies, (Name), has someone hurt you?” he prodded carefully, watching your every reaction like an eagle.

Finally, you could force yourself to nod. As you opened your eyes, Albedo felt.

He felt things he’d never felt before.

Anguish.

Anger.

He stared in stunned silence, as another tear escaped your eye. The fire flickering in the cave reflected off of it, and then, Albedo saw.

Golden lines, both small and large, littered across whatever skin was visible to his observant gaze.

The voice of his mentor, his creator, echoed through his memory. 

“The Creator bleeds blood of gold,” she read aloud, carefully handling the ancient scroll in her hands as Albedo listened obediently. 

“They created the universe, everything that exists. Therefore their essence is much unlike our own,” she added as a comment of her own. “The wounds they receive are said to turn into marks - marks of pride, of how strong they truly are - that shimmer brighter even than the gold  that flows through their veins.”

The Creator had been hurt.

And badly, at that.

“Would you like to sit down?” he offered gently, motioning at one of the stools by the table. He was having difficulties experiencing the things he was, the feelings flowing within him that someone like him should not be feeling. 

You took in a shaky breath, and glanced at the seat.

Finally, you nodded and complied.

Albedo sunk to one knee before you once more, his eyes glued to you, loyal and unblinking.

“What happened to you, your grace?”

Hope you guys enjoyed!! The next part will be going a bit more in depth to what exactly darling experienced. If there’s anything specific you’d like to see in future parts (such as characters, interactions and so on) feel free to let me know!

Taglist  (if you want to be added/i missed someone, feel free to let me know!!)

@ladyv1n  @gblubrry @karmawonders @nicebonescomrade  @xyliope  @under-a-starry-night  @sinnam0n--roll @i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry​ @inlustris-is-slowly-dying  @5-stirling-heartstrings @valenrien @tanspostsblog  @weabtrash  @gorousfanclub @tendous-socks @bajifairyy @tanuki-76​ @victoria1676 @irrivoid @yokesmam​ @kayden-rma @julietdelamare

#Teyvat's wielder #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin sagau #genshin cult au #sagau #sagau villain au #albedo #albedo x reader #klee #albedo kreideprinz

[taechaos]

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 

“Are these real stories?” 

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 

#bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts smut #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts fic #taehyung fic #kth smut #bts #thekpopnetwork

[blindingdutchy]

The filming scene In part 1 of pornstar!tom where he’s tied up and you take the blindfold off and his eyes are all blurry and unfocused go me thinking:

Imagine the video went viral and people started asking for more sub!tom so they get you to do it again but with more edging, so you’re sitting there, tom is tied up and gaged and you’ve been edging him for the past half hour but he’s not used to being the sub so he’s crying cuz he just wants to cum so bad and everyone thinks he’s just really good at acting but you know he’s crying for real. So when the scene is done you untie him and remove the gag, and the directors are telling you to come see how good it looks but you’re too busy making sure Tom is okay, and he’s so tired that he’s falling asleep on you😍🤤

i am such a submissive person this was genuinely difficult for me to write, but i think i got somewhere 😅possibly not even a request, but i was inspired and wanted to challenge myself

read switch here!

cry baby | t.holland

{pornstar!tom x pornstar!reader}

word count: 2,254

warnings: smut ofc

warnings: sub!tom, oral (m receiving), bondage, blindfold, spit play, edging/orgasm denial

You never thought you’d have ended up here again. But, your video with Tom had reached heights you’d never achieved before, and the fans were eating it up. They wanted more—and to your surprise, so did Tom.

Now, as he laid in much the same position he had in the original video, you were starting to understand why. He was flat on his back with all four limbs stretched out and fastened to the bedposts with thick black rope. His chest was heaving, his lips parted in fast paced pants as he watched you with intrigue—he knew what was to come.

“Are you ready, baby boy?” you cooed, stroking his cheek with your thumb. Tom’s eyes fluttered at the caress, brown irises blown wide with lust and desperation, and he whined airily. The black blindfold shielded you from his longing stares, and he lifted his head a little too eagerly so that you could slip the strap around his head.

Already he had suffered through the torture of your hands, his body flushed from agonizing minutes spent with your hands stroking his cock hard and fast just to rip his orgasm away from him. The sound of his pleas and cries still echoed in your ears, a familiar pang throbbing in your core as you remembered the way he sobbed your name on the third denial. For being such a dominant man, Tom was incredibly good at being submissive.

This time, though, you were skipping the gag. You wanted to hear all the little noises Tom could make, to hear all the words that spilled from his lips as he yearned so achingly for your touch. Trailing your fingers down his chest, you murmured, “What do you want, hm? Want my hands again?”

He shivered, a stuttered gasp escaping his mouth as you swirled your thumb around his nipple. The little bud hardened instantly, standing tall and stiff from the stimulation. “I—I want your mouth, Miss.” he whispered, and you smiled.

“You know what you have to do,” you tutted.

Tom’s lips were trembling as you crawled onto the bed, perching on your knees between his thighs, and he pleaded weakly, “P-please! I want your mouth, Miss, want it so bad.” His hips bucked wildly as your hands delicately caressed the skin of his inner thighs, and you admired the trail of goosebumps that erupted in their path. He was always so reactive, and it made your belly twist up in knots.

Seeing him there, entire body physically quivering for you to just do something, the world around you faded away. No longer did you care about the cameras trained upon you, and the faint sounds created by the crew vanished into white noise—it was just you and Tom. His legs were straining against the rope that tied them down, flexing and tensing as he tried his hardest to chase the hands that touched them.

Humming, your hands dragged up his thighs to rest on his hips. Thumbs dipping into the rippled lines of muscle that descended from his abdomen to his center, the length of his cock was reddened and leaking as it rested on his heaving stomach. Tom’s breathing picked up a notch as you teased the skin with a feather light touch, the area bare and smooth; he liked to keep things groomed for filming.

“Do you think you deserve my mouth, baby?”

Tom gasped when your hand closed around his length, stroking soft and slow pumps with almost no pressure at all. “Yes, I’ve been a good boy, Miss! I’ll—I’ll be so good for you!” he pleaded, voice hoarse, and you smirked at the way his head rolled around helplessly. “Please, Miss!”

Pulling at his length with more conviction, you relished in the strangled cry of relief he gave. “Don’t cum until I say so, understand?” you commanded, tone heavy with warning, and he nodded with a choked moan.

The sounds Tom made when your lips finally wrapped around his tip, lapping greedily at the pre-cum that was beaded on his slit, were purely animalistic. Carnal shouts of ecstasy and relief, his mouth hanging wide as he tugged relentlessly on his restraints. Each noise, each cry and plea for you to take him further, spurred you on. Your lips wrapped around him tighter, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked harder, and you flattened your tongue to take more of him.

Tears welled in your eyes when you pushed the tip of your nose into his pelvis, his length buried deep in your throat and choking you. “Oh, fuck!” he cried out, hips bucking wildly off the bed, and you gagged roughly around him. The noise of your wet, sloppy cough around his length paired with the sensation of your throat constricting had him trembling beneath you.

“Miss, ‘m gonna cum,” Tom panted. His voice was broken and cracked, his throat undoubtedly worn out from the guttural sounds that had ripped it apart. You hummed around him before pulling away with a grin, loving the way his hips chased after you sloppily. “I—why did you stop?” he groaned, lips puffing up in a tiny pout.

You tutted, swirling your thumb lazily around his tip and licking the vein that ran along his shaft. There was nothing more you wanted in that moment than to strip your costume off and slide into his lap, but the video didn’t call for that. This time around the focus was all on Tom, endless edging and denial for the panting man on the bed.

As his breathing finally slowed, the erratic rise and fall of his chest deepening with his steadier inhales and exhales, you dipped closer once more. Almost instantaneously he stiffened, cock twitching in your hand expectantly, and you smirked at how needy he was. Now, after all the times you and Tom had slept together, it made you feel good to finally be in control. It felt good to be the one delving out the excruciating push and pull, dangling him right at the precipice of ecstasy only to drag him away before he could fall.

So, maybe you were being a little vindictive when you sucked his weeping tip between your lips and curled your tongue around it just like you knew he loved. When Tom was in control he rarely gave you the chance to truly treat him well; most often he’d be holding your head and choking the life out of you as he thrust to his heart’s content. But now? Now you were setting the pace, calling the shots, and damn if you weren’t going to make him fucking cry.

Already he was whimpering pathetically, his breathing jagged and voice hoarse as he continually vocalized his need for you. His entire body was glistening with a light sheen of sweat and oil, the latter courtesy of Marlena the makeup artist, and he looked ethereal. He looked like a classical painting or sculpture, all artistically harsh edges colliding with soft flesh. The ridges of his muscle flexed and strained against his tender, slightly flushed skin, and it made your mouth water.

You pushed him to that cliff twice more, each time forcing more and more aggressive pleas from his pretty, pink lips. Tom was growing frustrated—angry, even—and the thought of it made you excited. His jaw was tensed and ticking with every grind of his teeth, and if you’d removed the blindfold you’d surely have been met with dark, swirling pools of rage in his eyes. If there was one thing he hated, it was to be teased.

Swirling your tongue around the broad, blazing red tip of his length, you giggled when a guttural cry burst straight from his chest. There it was, you were finally getting somewhere. His body was trembling all over, knees quaking and fingers quivering, and the sound of his desperation had finally reached its peak.

“Do you want to cum, baby boy?” you murmured, lips ghosting over the ridge beneath his tip eliciting a breathy whine, “Tell me how bad you want it.”

He jerked against the restraints, snarling madly. “I’ve been so good, Miss!” he choked out, “I’ve been a good boy, please, please, please, let me—oh!”

Your nose buried in the soft flesh of his pelvis, eyes watering and throat aching as he stretched your throat out. In the blurry edges of your vision you could just barely make out the way his hands stretched against their bonds, fingers straining and clawing through the air as he fought to grasp your head like he always did. You knew he wanted to move you, to thrust in and out of you at whatever pace he desired, but you had no intentions of moving.

How long could you stay like that? Face buried in his abdomen, eyes dripping tears, saliva trailing down your chin as you strained around him? You wanted to find out, and a part of you also longed to know if you could push him over the edge just like this. Not moving, just letting the erratic twitch of your throat as you gagged stimulate him.

In the end, you caved first. He was muttering unintelligibly, lips moving in a flurry of words you couldn’t make out that wavered in pitch dramatically. You wished to keep going, but the persistent ache in your jaw and lungs told you that you needed to stop. You needed air, and if you tried to push through it you’d either suffocate or instinctively clamp your jaw around the intrusion—that certainly wouldn’t have been good.

As you pulled off of him again, breathing heavily and wheezing slightly as you stretched your jaw, you wondered if he remembered this was the end. The script called for you to leave him begging, pleading his life to release only to be left unfulfilled. He was still whining to himself, and you could just barely make out the hoarse whisper, “I’ll fucking die if you don’t let me cum, please, Miss.”

You were still stroking him slowly with your hand as you sat up, your back aching slightly at the stretch. “Don’t be so dramatic,” you teased, and he growled under his breathe, “I don’t like your attitude right now, baby boy.”

He bared his teeth in a feral grimace, jaw tight and unwavering as he jerked against the ropes violently. “I want to cum!” he whined, voice cracking and slurred despite his demanding tone.

“Is that so?” you pouted, teasing the small slit of his tip playfully, “Well, it’s too bad I don’t really care what you want.”

With that, you got up and climbed off the bed as his length fell back onto his stomach with a dull smack. He hissed at the loss of contact and fought hard to chase after you, only to growl when he remained stuck. You admired the slick sheen that coated his body and the way his cock had gone a deeper shade of red, probably throbbing to the point of near agony from all of your edging.

“Cut!”

You swallowed down the swelling lump in your throat as you approached Tom timidly. The cameras were no longer rolling, his time playing the role of a submissive man over, and already you were shivering over what you’d certainly be facing later that night. What you hadn’t expected, though, was to find genuine tears streaming down his cheeks as you removed the blindfold.

The black garment was soaked with them, and you gaped at the red rim of his eyes and the inflamed ring around his nostrils. His brown eyes were unfocused and dazed as he looked at you, still watering as he blinked up at the sudden light, and your heart thudded pitifully against your ribcage. He was crying.

He was crying, and you didn’t know whether to feel guilty or scared. “Tommy?” you whispered, chewing on your lower lip as you stroked his sweaty curls from his face, “Are you okay?”

Tom’s head lulled into your touch, and he sniffled as he blinked up at you. “Yeah, ‘m good,” he croaked, “but you won’t be later.” His threat wasn’t all that intimidating as his eyes drooped, brown eyes clouded with exhaustion and lingering remnants of desperation. You brushed aside the feelings of nervous anticipation that stirred in the pit of your belly—that could wait.

All you cared about was untying Tom and maybe finishing what you’d started in your dressing room, though you were pretty sure he was too tired to go on. His eyelashes were fluttering as he fought to keep them open, and the sight was so heartwarmingly adorable that you couldn’t help but to coo at him. He pouted when you kissed his cheek, smacking his lips at you, “You missed, darling.” Rolling your eyes with a giggle, you pecked his lips and smiled at the pleased sigh that fanned your face.

All around you, you could hear the crew mumbling words of praise, all raving over Tom’s impeccable acting. “Damn, he should be in movies or something!” one man gaped, “(Y/N), come have a look!”

“Later,” you called back, “I’m busy.” Tom murmured sleepily, his head rolling deeper into the pillows, and you pondered to yourself how you were going to get him off the bed. A quiet snore perked your ears and you shook your head—for a man with so much stamina in the bedroom, he sure was beat from a little edging.

#tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #tom holland au #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland series #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland oneshot

[iovevrse]

film credits, timothée chalamet ꜜ

summary: the oscars with timmy

(no warnings mostly just fluff)

To say the least I don’t think a day like this could ever possibly be topped. Timothée and I were attending the Oscars, one of the most prestigious and nerve-racking events to ever exist. Ever. And what I was going to wear had been my topic of worry ever since Timmy informed me he wanted me to be his plus one. To make it worse he even refused to let me see what his outfit would be like until the day of.

All I had known, much to my surprise, was that Timmy and I had both gotten our pieces from Louis Vuitton. Upon hearing this I was even more excited to see what it was he would be pulling off this time. Luckily it came fast and today was finally the day I could stop endlessly biting away my nails at the thought. At least until our makeup was done.

“Hal hurry up. I wanna see it!” I said giddily. Since being secretive about our outfits was his idea, we decided him being the first to show his was only fair. To me specifically.

“Stop rushing me!” He laughed back in a failed attempt to sound somewhat serious.

“Ok ok yes come out now.” I sighed.

And so he did. To say I was shocked would be a mass understatement. The man looked so good I could hardly even remember how to breathe. Timmy was a man of taste for sure and the cropped blazer with black sequin all over from there to his pants was just perfect. I almost even felt insecure about how good he looked in comparison to what I had chosen to worn.

“TIMOTHÉE! Oh my god! Like actually, wow! You’re so pretty.” I said amazed

Even a year into our relationship we were both still easily flustered at compliments from each other, and seeing Timothée flustered was the cutest thing ever.

“Enough about me, it’s your turn now.” He said to divert attention

I just gave him a knowing alright kind of look and made my way to change. I had three choices initially and to say the least it was difficult but I felt as though the dress I had chosen was simple yet still encapsulated me. The detailing between the silky silver and black parts of the dress were by far what had drawn me to it the most. I knew immediately to pair it with a simple black bralette and heels. Accessories-wise, as a final touch, I had wanted lots of silver bracelets and rings. Though I had loved my look, after seeing Timmy’s I was actually feeling extremely insecure. The man was so pretty, how could I not?

“[Y/n]…. come out! It’s your turn!” Timothée said teasingly. I almost didn’t want to but whether I liked it or not the man would eventually drag me out if he had to.

And so I made my way back into the brightly lit hotel room. To say I was personally shocked at the surprise and admiration on Timmy’s face would be a mass understatement.

“Mon amour, you look absolutely stunning! Jeez!” he smiled.

It was now my turn to be flustered. I suddenly began to feel less bad about what I had chosen and ten times more comfortable as I did so.

“Thank you, thank you very much,” I said jokingly as I quoted Elvis

Following getting dressed we had about two hours until our limo would arrive and it was spent taking pictures with and of each other whilst listening to one of Timmy’s playlists. His music taste was top tier, maybe even better than mine, though I would never, ever, admit it to his face.

Hours later as we arrived at the Oscars. I began to take note of all of the people and cameras and most importantly people there. I began to feel my social anxiety take the wheel and it didn’t help that of all people, I was dating Timothée Chalamet. Not that it was a bad thing. Simply how big he had become over the years we’d known each other was astonishing. I’d known lots of people and cameras would be focused on us the moment we’d get out of the limo.

I didn’t know it at the moment but Timothée was silently taking note of this, and in turn, took hold of my hand and began caressing it.

“It’ll be fine [y/n]. It’ll be like a one-and-done thing. Kinda. Pictures, interviews, more pictures, more interviews. It’ll go by fast I swear!”

Somehow these words put me at ease and as we made a full stop I was just about ready to get out. Timothée began to step out first and I followed as a multitude of cameras began to flash and the loudness of the area intensified. I grabbed onto his hand firmly as we began to make our way through the velvet carpet and as soon as I knew it, just as Timmy said, we were seated for awards.

Timothée and I were left in shock as Dune won six well-deserved awards. From Best Visual Effects to Best Original Score, Best Cinematography, Costume and Production Design, Film Editing, and Sound. Seeing Timmy so happy was amazing and the night had yet to get better.

Me and Timothée watched as Chris Rock made a joke about Jada Smith resulting in him being slapped on live television by Will Smith. Timmy and I couldn’t help but laugh as we looked at each other in shock. Amongst the surprised gasps were Timothée and I in a fit of laughter as we clapped for Will. Experiencing live television in person was literally the best.

“Bro what! Timmy, what the fuck!” I said in utter shock as the commotion died down.

As the awards wound down we’d begun to get ready to change clothes for the after-party. This time what I’d chosen had reminded me of a more loose version of what I’d worn to the awards which was exactly what I wanted. It was almost like a continuation. The shimmery silky grey and black detailing was the best way to attend this after-party and upon seeing Timmy’s outfit they almost matched. Or at least slightly coordinated in some sense.

Soon It was just about time to leave and I had met so many people I’d never in a million years thought I’d even breathe the same air as. I mean Zendaya was the best woman I’ve ever met, I was prepared to drop to my knees in an instant.

“I had a great time y’know,” I said as I looked at Timmy admiringly

“I’m glad you did, I did too. I had a great date and everything after all.” he giggled lightly

At this moment I had felt like we’d been isolated from everything as if we were inside of this bubble. We’d continued to stare at each other until we both simultaneously leaned in for a kiss. I could lie and say it was just a simple kiss but in all reality, it was more of a soft make-out kind of thing. Before we knew it our limo was here and we were making our way back to our hotel to end the night.

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #xreader #fanfiction #fanfic #timmy #dune #oscars2022

[uwingdispatch]

These Gentle Hands

These Gentle Hands

Notes: Bodhi Rook/Reader, everyone lives au, post-rebellion, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader, established relationship, somewhat domestic fluff, light angst

CW: chronic pain, anxiety, difficulty with disability

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

Your neck and shoulders had ached for days when you realized you were going to need to ask for help. You’d been this kind of sore before, but never to the point where you couldn’t do simple things for yourself. Like brush your hair. Or finish getting dressed.

The first day, you’d managed. Maybe you’d slept wrong. Bodhi was away and you’d been restless, always worried about your partner when he was on missions that could be so unpredictable. Everything had been moving so fast since the Battle of Jakku, and while the Empire was on its way out, there was still so much to do if the Rebellion wanted to keep the people of the galaxy safe, to build a new republic. The New Republic. And it could be dangerous.

But on the second day this pain forced you to leave your workstation early. Your supervisor knew your limitations and was graceful about them. Usually instead of abandoning your work completely, you’d focus on a less strenuous task and save work that would be more difficult for a day when you were experiencing less pain. But you knew when you needed to rest.

An astromech whose pilot was recovering in a bacta tank had taken over some of your sewing. He was a kind little droid, likely needing something to do to keep his binary mind off the recent injuries of his longtime companion. But you had to wonder how easily replaceable you were. If a droid could do your work—not just any droid, but an astromech—were you really needed? Sure, most astromechs were incredibly adaptable. But that was very much what you weren’t.

And now? You were sitting in your quarters alone with a hairbrush, half-dressed and ready to cry because you couldn’t reach over your head.

You were about to call that astromech to see if he could come to your quarters for a minute when there was a series of clicks and beeps at your door. When it slid open, you were surprised to see Bodhi, who wasn’t expected back on base for another few days.

“You’re home,” you said, drawing the blanket to your chest. Pants you’d managed. But the soft sleep tank you’d worn to bed last night was a bit on the sheer side.

“Mission went more smoothly than expected,” Bodhi said. “What’s wrong, love? There was a droid at your work station and he told me you were sick.”

You were barely holding back tears as Bodhi sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m not so much sick as I am…hurt,” you said. “I can’t lift my arms over my head, or bend to use my sewing machine.”

“Did you go to the med bay?” Bodhi asked, taking your hand.

With the top of his orange flight suit tied around his waist, he looked perfectly tidy. He had a clean undershirt on, his hair braided back, beard neatly trimmed. He’d gone to his quarters and cleaned up a bit before coming to see you. And you were an absolute mess. You knew he didn’t care, but it still bothered you a little.

“No,” you said. “I didn’t. They’re pretty full with folks who have serious injuries—I didn’t want to take a bed or bacta when I know this will pass on its own.”

“You’re just as important as anyone in that med bay,” Bodhi said. “You know that, right?”

“I know, people do tell me that. Sometimes…I mean I’m not in combat. If feels different, you know?”

“I know, love,” he said, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face to press a tender kiss to your lips. “But it’s still true.”

You told him how you felt about being replaced by a droid, and he reminded you that the droid was only doing the machine embroidery and some of the simpler repairs. He didn’t have an eye for details like you did. Not with garments. He couldn’t have tailored a jacket perfectly for a new recruit’s body like you had for him.

“Thank you,” you said. “I needed to hear that.”

Bodhi brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. “Stay right here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

When Bodhi returned he had heat packs and a salve. “Baze told me that this salve is similar to something the guardians used a lot in training, back on Jedha, before the occupation.” He turned around and opened a drawer that he knew held your clean shirts. “Let me help you.”

You moved a little in your bed so that Bodhi could sit behind you. He applied Baze’s salve to your neck and upper back. His touch was gentle, delicate as his fingers swept over your aching shoulders. When he kissed your neck just behind your ear, you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

He helped you change into a soft t-shirt. He was so careful and kind in his movements—this was not a labor to him. This was an act of love

“This is my favorite of your tattoos,” Bodhi said, gently running his fingertips over the convor on your forearm. “It has always felt perfect for you, and your spirit.”

On another day you could have fallen asleep in his arms. Today, though—you just hoped this salve was half as good as Baze had said it was.

“Now where’s your hairbrush?” he asked.

It was still at your side, so you handed it to him. As he began to gently brush your hair, he told you about how his mother brushed his hair for him when he was a child.

“I always found it so calming,” he said. “It was like a ritual we had. And when I was older she taught me to braid hair, and I helped my cousins get ready for school.”

“A lot of you in that one house, huh?” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “After my aunt died, they came to live with us.”

Bodhi didn’t often talk about his family, about growing up in an occupied area.

“Honestly it’s part of why I enlisted,” he continued. “I guess I also wanted to fly a TIE fighter. But I thought I could help my family, keep them safe. But...” he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, knowing he had lost most of his loved ones when Jedha was destroyed. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” he said. “I mean, a little. Maybe just a little today. With you, love.”

As Bodhi talked, your body began to relax completely. You didn’t know whether it was the salve or the soothing motion of the hairbrush or the stress leaving your body, but your pain had become more tolerable.

When he stopped brushing, Bodhi bent and kissed the top of your head, asked you how you were feeling.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Bodhi Rook,” you said, leaning back into his warm chest. “But I’m so glad I get to love you.”

“Funny,” he said. “I feel the same way about you.”

When he asked if he could braid your hair, of course you said yes.

“This way you won’t have to worry about it for a little while,” he said. “Until you’re feeling better.”

There was something so intimate about his hands in your hair, deftly weaving strand over strand. When he tied off the braid, he wrapped his arms around you and you eased yourself back back to lay against his chest.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “Since Jakku, things are finally quieting down. The general has mentioned that they won’t need me for combat missions much longer. Baze and Chirrut were talking about going to Chandrila. They’re getting some temporary housing ready for folks like us. Rebels who…can’t go home.”

The Empire had turned Bodhi’s home into a giant crater, and the inhabitable parts of Jedha wouldn’t be inhabitable for long, given the hole the Death Star blasted in the surface that went all the way to the moon’s core.

And you—you’d grown up in a turbulent environment, which had made joining the Rebellion an easy choice. Presented with the opportunity to get away and contribute to this important cause? It made more sense to you than most things in your life. But even if you’d wanted to go home, the Empire had laid waste to much of your home planet.

“I heard about that,” you said. “The housing on Chandrila. Just outside the capitol, right?”

You, too, had been told you might be less busy in the near future. It honestly worried you, since you had no idea where you’d go, especially if you were let go from your responsibilities before those you were closest to.

Bodhi massaged your shoulders, his gentle hands perhaps as soothing as the salve that was beginning to take effect. “Would you want to go to Chandrila with me?” he asked. “There are other options, but I thought it might be a good fit. I wouldn’t always be home, not at first. They’ll need me to pilot for the relief effort. But soon…maybe a normal life.”

“I wasn’t sure that would ever be possible for us,” you confessed. “But it sounds nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bodhi leans down to kiss your cheek. “Soon, then. I’ll tell the general today.”

You relaxed into Bodhi, a quiet calm spreading throughout your body. The war had felt so endless for so long that any time you thought of a future without the Rebellion you’d felt a panic rising in you chest. But here was Bodhi, with a plan—now you couldn’t imagine any other way to move on to the next part of your life. Together.

You closed your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder. When the little red and white ball droid showed up at your door, you were so relaxed that you almost didn’t notice.

“Mate, you found us!” Bodhi said. “Come on over here. This is the person I was telling you about.”

The little droid rolled up to your bed, tilted his head to the side. He chirped a binary hello.

“Who is this?” you asked.

“This is QR-3D,” Bodhi said. “I’ve been calling him Red, he seems to like that. They assigned him to me right before I shipped out on that last mission. On account of my leg.”

“They gave you a therapy droid?” you asked. You couldn’t help but smile. The droid was cute, and you loved that your partner would have some extra help with his own recovery, especially on days when you couldn’t be there.

“They did,” Bodhi said. “The doctor said I would have had one when I was recovering after Scarif, but there had been a delay at the manufacturer. But he’s here now, and we’re getting along.”

“This is incredible,” you said. “Welcome home, Red.”

Red beeped and whistled, something along the lines of “new friend!”

Bodhi gave Red a little pat.

“He knows he’s assigned to me. But I told him you might need a bit of help sometimes, too.”

A string of beeps and chirps came in response that roughly translated to “Master Bodhi’s support person.”

“We’re going to work on that. I’m nobody’s master. This is a family.”

A little panel opened on Red’s round body and he held out a bag from the base cantina. He chirped a binary phrase for “organic battery.”

“I figured you might not have eaten so I sent him to the cantina” Bodhi said.

Carefully he got out of bed, moving around a few pillows and a heating pad for you before retrieving the bag from the little droid. “Thanks, mate.”

Inside the bag were a few fresh portion bread packets, a little canteen of water, and two pats of blue butter.

“It’s not much, but I’ll bring you a proper dinner later.” Bodhi said. “I have to go debrief in a minute, but Red is going to stay here with you while I’m gone, if that’s okay.”

“I’d like that,” you said. “We can get to know each other.”

Red chirped enthusiastically.

Bodhi kneeled down, tilted your chin ever so slightly toward him, and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You could just reach to hold his face in your hand, his short beard tickling your palm. When you closed your eyes, you could picture a future for the first time. Actual dinner dates. Afternoons spent in parks and holidays at home. Spending the night together in a real bed meant to fit two people.

“Soon,” Bodhi said, almost as if he could see what you were thinking, kissing you just a little deeper, a little longer, before an alarm on his chrono went off and he realized he was about to be late for his meeting.

He leaned in again to kiss your forehead, squeezed your hand. “Get some rest, love,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

★★★★★★★★

I usually write pretty vaguely described reader characters, but I had this idea and couldn't not do it. I hope you enjoyed this little vignette and that it made you feel seen and loved.

Also, yes, this is Red’s origin story! Or at least part of it. Therapy droids (first?) appeared in Chuck Wendig’s novel Aftermath: Life Debt. They’re canon! I also have it on good authority that BB-8 originated as a therapy droid for Poe Dameron’s father Kes, but I’m not sure where in the canon this information appears. As a disabled person with both mental and physical health issues, I would love a little BB-8 to help me out.

Tags: @waterpancakeao3 @zinzinina @princessxkenobi @maul-ologue @operation-spot @strwrs​

#bodhi #bodhi rook #bodhi rook x reader #bodhi rook/reader #bodhi rook x you #rogue one #rogue one fanfic #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one au #everyone lives au #soft bodhi #red the therapy droid #disability #chronic illness #chronic pain #disabled reader #reader is disabled #uwingwriting

[miss-ariella]

The Intern - Senator Chris Evans x Female Reader

Summary: Senator Evans keeps asking his intern to work late.

Warnings: Smut. Office Sex. Inappropriate boss/intern relations. Whoops.

Author's Note: I blame the gif below for putting these thoughts into my head. I blame alcohol for me putting those thoughts on paper.

When you were hired as an intern for Senator Chris Evans, you thought you understood what the job would entail, but you were greatly mistaken. A Senate intern was not an easy job and being Senator Evans intern was even more difficult than most.

Your days were spent making copies, fetching coffee, answering phones, and straightening up the office. It was quite common that you were required to work late as well, getting home past midnight to catch a few hours of sleep before being back in the office at 7 am. Recently, though, you had noticed how Senator Evans asked you to stay late more than any other staff in his office. You weren’t sure what to make of that.

On Thursday, you had just gotten back from your afternoon coffee break with some of the other senate interns when Senator Evans approached your desk.

“I need you to stay late tonight,” the Senator informs you, towering over your desk. “My roadways bill is being presented to the committee tomorrow and there are some changes that need to be made,” he says before walking away.

“What if I have plans?” you ask him, without thinking, mad about another late night. He stops in his tracks and looks back at you.

“Do you?” he asks, in a gruff voice that makes you feel about two inches tall.

“No,” you respond quietly, shrinking back into your chair.

“Good,” he replies heading back into his office and slamming the door behind him. The Senator’s chief of staff gives you a sympathetic look before getting back to his own work.

By 10 that evening it was just you and Senator Evans left in the office. You had kicked off your heels a while ago and we're glad you’d worn a comfortable dress to work that day.

“Y/N!” the Senator shouted from his office. You sighed and stood up from your desk to make your way into his office.

“Yes sir?” you ask as you entered the office. You noticed Senator Evans had removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie at some point in the last few hours.

“This whole section needs to be redone,” he says pointing at a stack of paper without even looking up from his work.

“What’s wrong with it, sir?” you asked, trying not to bristle at the fact that you were being asked to rewrite several dozen pages of documents.

“It needs to be updated with the most recent information. There should be this year’s traffic stats on Scott’s desk. Use that report to fix the information,” he informs you. It took everything in you not to groan at his request. So instead, you simply took the papers and headed back out to your desk.

Around midnight you were stifling a yawn as the Senator called for you from his office again.

“Are you done yet?” he asked, as you let yourself in.

“Almost sir,” you told him.

“What’s taking so long?” he demanded. “It was just a quick numbers change. 30 minutes top.” That was the straw that broke the camel's back, you were so fed up and exhausted that you snapped.

“Well sir,” you snarled at him. “It's past midnight, so I’ve been here for about 15 hours now and frankly I’m exhausted. I don’t get paid enough to do this; in fact, I don’t get paid at all. You have five other paid staffers in this office who could have easily stayed tonight and done a much better job at this than I could have. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m a fucking intern!”

By this point, your brain caught up to your mouth and you slapped your hand over it before you said anything else. You had just yelled at the Senator; you were surely getting fired for this. You watched in anticipation as Senator Evans just stared at you after your outburst, his blue eyes twinkling in the light from his desk.

“None of my other staffers look as good in a dress as you do,” the Senator states, his eyes raking over your figure in the navy-blue A-line dress you had on.

“What?!” you asked in shock, not entirely sure you heard Senator Evans correctly.

“I said,” he repeats as he stands up and crosses the room towards you. “That you look so damn sexy in that dress.”

“Senator?” you ask clearly confused as you try to back up, only to collide with the door of his office.

“I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of you since you started here,” he confesses, crowding into your space. “You are so smart and sexy too. Yes, I could keep someone else here late, but to be honest I’ve wanted to kiss you so badly for weeks now.”

Then all of a sudden, his lips were crushed against yours, kissing you fiercely. You knew you should push him off of you, but his kiss was doing something to your brain. So, you started kissing him back, meeting his lips with passion.

“Fuck,” Senator Evans says pulling back for a moment. “Tell me you want this Y/N?”

“I do,” you tell him without hesitating, surprising yourself.

“Then I think you should call me Chris” he instructs with a small smirk on his face.

“I want this Chris,” you repeat. Chris smiles for a moment before taking you by the shoulders and leading your back toward his desk. He sits down in his chair, leaving you standing in front of him.

“Take your dress off,” he orders. You nod and reach behind you, unzipping the dress and letting it fall to the floor.

Chris’s eyes slowly move down your body taking in your bra and lace panties. You can see the outline of his cock begin to harden in his slacks. He grabs your hand and pulls you down into the chair so you’re straddling his lap.

“You are so beautiful,” he tells you. You can feel your cheeks starting to blush, which causes Chris to smile again. He leans in close and captures your lips in another kiss, his hands tightening their hold on your waist.

This time you can feel the electricity behind it. It starts out as a little spark near your lips and quickly spreads through your body all the way down to your toes.

Without realizing it you begin to grind down on Chris, which causes him to groan. One of his hands moves down to your panties and he begins to rub your clit through the fabric.

“You’re soaked,” the Senator says in surprise, breaking the kiss. “Is the idea of me fucking you over my desk turning you on?” he asks as his fingers pick up their pace.

“Yes sir,” you moan causing Chris to grin. He slips two of his fingers under the fabric of your panties and runs them down your slit, splitting open your lips. You whimper as he continues to touch you.

Chris slides his middle finger inside you and your whole world shrinks down to just the two of you. The Senator slides his finger in and out of you a few times before adding the second, making you cry out. His fingers are large and just the two are filling you up.

“I want to fuck you,” Chris whispers into your ear. “I want to take you over my desk and hear you scream my name as I destroy your pussy.” You can feel your pussy clench around Chris’s fingers at his words.

“Please sir,” you beg him as Chris continues to fuck you with his fingers. Chris kisses down your neck and across your shoulder as he continues finger fucking you in his lap.

“Come for me and then I will fuck you” he instructs. “Come all over my fingers while you’re sitting in my lap and then I will give you what you want.” All you can do is nod as your moans get louder and louder. Chris’s fingers hit that magical spot inside you, and you scream as you fall over the edge, your pussy gushing around the fingers in you.

“Good girl,” Chris says, removing his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth licking them clean. Chris lifts you up off his lap setting you down on the ground. You watch as he unbuttons his shirt and pants, taking them off and revealing his toned physique. Once he’s naked Chris leans around you to unhook your bra, tossing it aside before sliding your panties off as well.

It’s hard for you to reconcile the man in front of you right now with the Senator who runs his office with an iron fist, but somehow they are one and the same.

Chris spins you around before pressing you down to lay over his desk. You can hear as he comes up behind you and feel as he lines his cock up to your pussy.

“Now be a good girl and take my cock,” Chris orders before sheathing himself in you, filling you up in one stroke.

“Fuck,” you cry out as Chris bottoms out inside you. Chris leans down and presses a kiss between your shoulders before straightening back up and sliding his cock back out and slamming in again. Chris sets up a punishing pace, fucking you hard and fast.

“God damn it. Been teasing me for months in those short dresses,” Chris says as he pounds into you. You didn’t know a cock could feel so good inside you as it does with Chris. He’s filling you up every time he pushes in. Your hand reaches out to grab something to hold onto on his desk.

“How does it feel to know that I’ve been dreaming about doing this for weeks? That the reason I kept you late all those nights was cause I wanted to fuck you over my desk. Wanted to hear you cry out as you took my cock.”

“Fuck, sir,” you moan as Chris’s cock hits your cervix. “Feels so good Senator, never felt so full before” you moan as Chris continues to pound you.

“Are you going to cum for me?” Chris asks leaning over to whisper in your ear. “Are you going be a good little intern and cum for your Senator as he fucks you over his desk?”

“Yes sir,” you whimper as Chris’ cocks somehow hits even deeper inside you. Chris pulls one of his arms forward holding up two fingers to your mouth. Without even thinking you wrap your mouth around them and suck, getting them wet. Chris smiles as he pulls his fingers back, moving them down to the front of your pussy and gently rubbing over your clit. You begin to whimper as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

“Then cum for me,” he orders, his voice stern in your ear as his fingers furiously rub your clit. “Be a good intern and cum!”

That’s all it takes as you fall over the edge at his order, your pussy squirting around his cock. You can hear Chris groan as he fucks into you a few more times before his hips still, his cock pulsing warm cum into you as he finishes as well.

“Oh fuck,” Chris groans, his head dropping against your back as he tries to catch his breath. Underneath him, your heart is still racing as you come down from your high.

Chris turns your head gently towards him and captures your lips in a kiss. The two of you kiss for a minute before Chris stands up and gently pulls out of you. You can feel as his cum begins to slide down your legs. Chris helps you up and turns you around to face him.

“We can finish this tomorrow,” he says gesturing to the paperwork still on his desk. “Right now, I just want you to come home with me and fall asleep in my bed. Will you do that?”

You nod in response to his question, wrapping your arms around the Senator and pulling him in for another kiss. In the morning the two of you will have to figure out what happens next, but for right now you just want to bask in the glow.

“Take me home, Senator.”

#chris evans #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #senator chris evans #miss ariella writes #my writing #my fic

[hunflowers]

okay inspired by dwd suit wearing harry :) enjoy *nose boops*

You haven’t seen Harry in a couple months now. At least not physically, what with guidelines for his new movie and the restrictions of quarantine in general.

Whenever his name does pop up on your phone you can’t hide the smile that breaks out onto your face, especially when it’s a facetime call so you can see him in real time. This day however was a little different. He texted you bright and early -- at least for him because of the time difference -- saying he won’t be able to talk much because a busy day lies ahead of him. A frown nestled into your features at the misfortune, but you replied back with understanding.

Whenever his name does pop up on your phone you can’t hide the smile that breaks out onto your face, especially when it’s a facetime call so you can see him in real time. This day however was a little different. He texted you bright and early -- at least for him because of the time difference -- saying he won’t be able to talk much because a busy day lies ahead of him. A frown nestled into your features at the misfortune, but you replied back with understanding.

It came as a surprise a couple hours later though, when he texted you a picture of himself in a full body mirror, adorned in a caribbean blue suit and a matching striped tie, with the message of Do you like it?

Your mouth dropped at the sight, and you’re pretty sure a bit of saliva slipped past your lips too. His hair was parted in meticulous manner that truly gave him the proper 50s vibe, and his clean shaven face was the true cherry on top that had your heart beating in your chest. You wanted to pull him close, preferably by the tie around his neck, and plaster lipstick stains across his jaw while carding your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as you rocked your hips together.

You had to close your legs at the wormhole your brain was going into, biting your lip into your mouth as you wished he were next to you. I like it a lot :(

Why the sad face?

Because I want to rip it off of you.

You giggled as you saw the daunting three dots appear then disappear a few times, before he replied with a quick Don’t start. He’s at work, so it’s selfish to rile him up especially when it seems he’s about to shoot his next scene, but you couldn’t stop the wink face you sent back along with:

Can’t stop thinking of me on my knees for you. 

Wouldn’t you like that? 

Unbuttoning your pants and pulling the zipper down with my teeth just like you taught? Leaving the whole suit on as you fuck my mouth? 

Hearing me gagging for you, choking on you as I feel you down my throat.

As much as you think you’re making him suffer, you’ve punished yourself just as badly. You were mindlessly watching your current TV fixation, sipping on a glass of wine, but now all you could think about was him and how he wasn’t by your side to help you out. 

When Harry hadn’t responded for a couple minutes, you had half the mind to shove your hand in your panties and finish the job, and you were about to do it too, but you heard the familiar text tone. You pulled your phone close to you and read his daring message, causing you to bite your lip back into your mouth. 

We’ll finish this later.

But then about an hour or so later you got another text from him, this time a picture of him in a brown suit with another tie to match. He said nothing aside from a teasing smiley face, because he knew the game he was playing. The brown one brought out the color of his eyes more, making you ogle just a little harder than the first, and making you crave him even more.

So, you got up from your spot on the couch and marched up to your room to find something to send back. You searched high and low for something worth your time until you finally found a time-piece. A light blue, see-through babydoll dress that you hadn’t worn since your first anniversary together. It came with a matching light blue thong and lace collar piece that you remember Harry practically frothing over the sight.

You quickly changed into it, and pulled your hair back before stepping closer to the full-length mirror in your closet. You angled yourself in a desirable way, and even brought your free hand’s thumb up to your mouth and nibbled on the tip of it as you snapped the picture. Satisfied with the photo on the fourth try, you sent it with a taunting caption of a typed heart.

He opened your message almost instantaneously, but had left you on read which caused your heart to sink a bit in your chest. But, you attributed it to him being called to set and picked your chin up and waltzed back downstairs in your new attire. You picked up your wine glass and continued with your show, simply waiting.

As time ticked on and your body grew sleepier, you were tempted to call it a night and text him saying you would continue this — whatever this is — tomorrow. But you kept your determination, because you missed your boyfriend and even if he couldn’t touch you, you knew he was going to make you cum. And besides, just when you started doubting him, that’s when he decided to ring you.

You picked up the phone giddily, the connecting ... under his name taunting you before his beautiful face popped up on your screen. You were ready to chirp a greeting at him, excited to talk to him after a long day but he was quicker to the punch.

“Y/N... y’had to send that while I’m working, did ya? Fuck, babe, do you understand how difficult it was to focus on set with that at the back of m’mind?” He ran his ring-less fingers through his shorter hair, and you noticed he was back in his hotel room. That’s a good thing, you thought, now you had no restrictions.

You pouted at him mockingly, “Oh no, you poor thing.”

He blinked at you once, then twice, before stating, “Get up. Let me see you.”

Because you were still downstairs, you trekked back up to your room, going over to the original mirror you took the photo in before flipping the camera around and showcasing yourself. You toyed with the hem of the dress, picking it a bit to give him a better viewing of your panties, to which he groaned in response.

“I’ve missed that little number. Remember the night you wore it? Could hardly walk for days after.”

You let out a breath at the thought, bringing your hand down and slightly grazing your throbbing clit for him to see, just at the mere thought.

He continued, “But that’s why you put it on isn’t it? Because you know it’s my favorite and I’m not there to put my hands on you. You wanted to get back at me for the pictures I sent — which, hardly even compare.”

You nodded your head in response, flipping the camera back around to face you as you stepped out of the closet and onto your bed. “Want you to miss me just as much as I miss you.”

“Oh, baby.... Words can’t describe how much I miss you. Look, I’ll show you how much I miss you,” and then the next thing you know, is he’s flipping the camera around and showing you his very hard cock.

You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, your free hand dipping into your baby blue thong and swiping your dripping folds and circling your wetness across your clit. “Show me how much you miss me too.”

You flipped your camera back around, letting him see your fingers slowly working your clit, hidden beneath the fabric of your panties. He groaned, telling you to give him a closer look, so — as comfortably as you could — you pushed your thong to the side and angled your phone so he had a better view of your soaked pussy.

“Shit Y/N– Push two fingers inside, imagine it’s me doing it,” he told, and you could see his fist beginning to pump his cock at a faster rate, him most likely imagining your smaller hand stroking him just like you usually do. You listened to him, inserting your ring and middle finger inside your wet hole, while keeping the heel of your palm pressed against your sensitive bud.

“Baby... I need you so bad,” you whined, softly hitting your front wall as you curled your fingers, before fastening your movements — like you know he would.

You watched him spread his precum around his shaft, paying extra attention to his tip before he thrusted his hips up into hand. “Ugh- I know baby, I need you too. Just a little while longer. Fuck yourself for me, y’can do that can’t you?”

You hummed back, picking up the pace of your hand, going the extra mile and pushing a third finger inside, causing you to screw your eyes shut in ecstasy.

“Wish it was you fucking me right now. Your big cock inside my tight pussy - shit - you fill me so good.”

You heard him groan at your words, mumbling a quiet ‘keep going,’ because he’s always been a fan of your dirty talk.

“Want your hand around my throat... squeezing me as I squeeze you. Wish you were hitting the spot only you could reach. God, want to feel me stretched around you, leaving me sore for days after you’re done. Do you want that too?” You felt the heat in the pit of your belly begin to stir, your palm pressing harder against your sensitivity.

“Could imagine your face pressed into the mattress as I take you from behind. Your tits in my hands — I miss them. Want m’mouth sucking on you... can’t cum yet, don’t even think about it, Y/N.”

You whined at the restriction, feeling your impending high reaching you. So, you helped him to his quicker. “H, H, H... miss having my lips around you. Love when you mess up my lipstick and it’s smeared all around you, mixed with saliva and cum. Never forget about your balls either, I kiss ‘em and suck on them, give them just the right amount of attention. Know you love when I press my finger into you too, hearing you moan until you’re coming down my throat.”

Back and forth for a few moments all you both could do was moan, wishing the other were by your side as you sent yourself into euphoric oblivion.

“Can I cum now? Please, please,” you begged, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“So close, babe, so – holy fuck — so close,” he murmured, twisting his wrist and keeping more of his focus on the base of dick now. “G’na cum with me?”

You whispered a ‘yes’ in response, your thighs beginning to shake as your toes curled into the bed sheets. Within seconds, hot lava coursed through your body as flashes of white danced across your eyes, you back arching off the mattress. You could hear Harry hitting his climax, your eyes opening quickly to watch him spray his orgasm all over his fist and stomach. 

You nestled your head into your pillow as you brought the phone back up to your face, your eyes falling close as you let your body relax. Harry turned the camera back to him, getting up from his position to wash himself. You would get up eventually too, but you just laid and calmed yourself in the mean time as you watched him.

“Miss you,” you mumbled, tears threatening to break past your waterline as you wished you could snuggle up to him.

He looked at you, his mouth forming into a pout as you could hear the sink water running from the bathroom. “I know. Just a few more weeks and I’ll be home.”

#i’m back b-words #jk this is it until school is over #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles filth #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles

[lastxviolet]

Madripoor is for Lovers - Ch. 1

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / eventual smut / kidnapping

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

“Don’t scream,” a voice whispered in your ear, low and slow. “I do not wish to harm you.”

His hand wrapped around your mouth and the other snaked around your waist. The cool metal of a gun pressed into your ribs. He pulled you tight and fast against his body with ease.

You knew who it was, of course. It was the only person in the room not fighting in the pit of madness. The duel between a super soldier, the new Captain America, and the Dora Milaje hadn't been tempting. But it’d been him to grab your arm to pull you away from the fighting when Sam had yelled for help and now you knew why.

“Don’t do this,” you hissed against his hand.

Zemo pulled you backward, inch by agonizing inch.

You clicked your heels against the floor hoping to knock something over along the way. Anything to get Sam and Bucky’s attention. No one even glanced your way.

“None of that, Liebling,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. His grip on your waist tightened as you passed through the bathroom threshold. What was worse, you wondered. Seeing your team; your friends disappear behind the closed double doors. Or the goosebumps from Zemo’s breath hot on your neck.

With his gun aimed at you, he knelt near the bathtub and pushed it aside to reveal an escape hatch in the floor. You watched him unlatch it and then smirk, surprised that his plan was going so well. That smirk made your blood boil.

“I’m more hassle than I’m worth,” you warned, casting a hesitant glance down the manhole.

He motioned for you to jump down first. “But you are excellent collateral.”

The noise of battle continued beyond the doors, much to your disappointment. They weren’t going to notice in time. Sam and Bucky had looked out for you but their alliance superseded any with you. Sam had only known you for a few months, and Bucky even less. You shot a prayer into the ether that they'd think of you if only this one time.

“You overestimate my importance to them,” you hissed.

Zemo looked up with dark and serious eyes. Usually, when aimed at you, they were less so. You wouldn't have considered him a friend, by any means. But in the last few weeks, he'd become a quiet, witty companion, who infuriated you less than most. Especially when Sam and Bucky spent most of the mission bickering about the plans you had made.

“Perhaps you underestimate yourself,” he cooed, shaking his head.

Sewage stink hit your senses immediately. This would not be pleasant. The drop was too short to give you the time to make a run for it. A second after your feet hit the ground, Zemo returned his gun to your head, with a smile.

“This way.”

Fighting was pointless, that much you knew. You hadn’t been recruited by Sam for your fighting abilities, as Zemo hadn’t been recruited for his. You were handy with a gun but tracking and strategy were your specialties. They’d taken you far in the military, and then as an anomaly investigator and agent with SWORD. And now, they’d brought you here, kidnapped, with a gun to your head in the back of Zemo’s car.

The driver was off towards the airstrip without any further commotion. You watched the road behind you, hopeful to see Sam or Bucky run up on the car. You could've even settled for a Dora Milaje with murder in their eyes and Zemo’s name on their tongue but it was empty.

Once on the plane, you sat in the furthest seat towards the back. Angry, hurt, and nervous, because despite all the warning bells, you’d trusted him. There was clear hatred between your teammates and Zemo but it was different between the two of you. You had no past or grudges against one another. It was silly now to think that that made you believe that there was an understanding.

“I hope you don’t think me indecent,” he murmured, gesturing to an opaque scarf in his hands. He avoided your gaze before wrapping it around your face. “But it would be unwise for me to trust you with my location. You are too intelligent for your own good.”

“Is it normal for wardens to flatter their prisoners,” you hissed, hoping to land a blow.

You heard him sit in the seat across from you and felt his foot brush yours as he crossed his legs.

“Prisoner,” he chuckled. “You are my guest Y/N and I hope that in time, you will find that I can be an excellent host.”

“In time,” you repeated, weighing the consequences of not putting up a fight when you could. How long did he plan to keep you?

He was quiet then, and so were you. The choice of words lingering between you. It wasn't until after takeoff that he spoke again. A glimpse of his face would've given you the clues you desired but the tone of his words was enough. His exhaustion from relentless thought weighed his voice to a deep baritone. Sluggish and soft.

“I have no intention of living the rest of my days in a cell,” he whispered finally.

You couldn't feel bad for him, especially when his freedom came at the cost of your own. It was clear then that confidence and swagger were a disguise, for survival. You’d seen glimmers of the real pain lurking beneath the smirks and fur coat but you hadn’t thought that he’d let it win. It wasn't a disappointment but somewhat a relief to go toe to toe with the real man.

“You can’t run forever,” you reminded him in a soft tone, trying to coax the shadow of humanity left in him out further.

“Ah,” he sighed. “It feels nice to know that you can be wrong, Y/N. For a moment, I doubted that you were human.”

The words lit an angry fire inside you. You couldn’t see him but almost heard the cavalier shrug he threw in for effect. The fabric over your eyes covered the tops of your cheeks hiding the angry flush. You hated him for making this complicated. You hated yourself even more, for not screaming when you had the chance.

Except for the occasional page turn, the rest of the ride was silent, which was unusual for the two of you. There’d been an instant dialogue since the very first time you’d met a few weeks ago. Since then, quiet moments had been rare.

________

The Baron’s private plane had landed an hour ago, but no one was on the tarmac yet. It’d taken you, Sam, and Bucky that long to come to terms with the uniforms chosen for the night.

“You know you don’t have to Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and glared at Sam through the small airplane mirror.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him before going back to gawking at the dress. Tight but not too short, seeing as you were posing as a baroness tonight in the mission to Madripoor. Sheer black fabric slung over one shoulder, sewn onto a bustier underneath. Simple. Elegant. You’d never worn anything like it.

Sam shook his head, mumbling something about this being a bad idea.

“It’s better than the Air Force uniform,” you smiled, knowing full well that that’d get at least a chuckle out of him. It did, earning the both of you a glare from Bucky who was the worst off tonight.

“No time like the present,” Zemo called from the front of the plane. The men left you, bickering about whose outfit was worse. You tried to follow but the only piece of jewelry, a silver charm necklace, put up a fight.

“Allow me?”

Zemo’s voice made you jump. He leaned against the door, with a hand outstretched towards you. Now that half the audience to entertain was gone, he looked more forlorn; less self-assured.

You nodded, moving your hair out of the way before handing the necklace to him. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He did that a lot you had realized. After the fireworks at the beginning of the ride, he’d turned his attention to you. Smile bright, but the eye’s dead. One would think small talk was his forte but you knew better. It is an easy distraction; a way to put your opposition at ease. Regardless, you couldn't blame him for seeking to charm the only one on the flight that did not hate him.

“I don’t think that we met,” he’d stated, settling into the seat across from you. “Last time.”

“Don’t talk to her,” Bucky hissed. You knew he was trying to help but you waved him off, giving him a look that said ‘someone has to talk to him.’

“No, I’m new,” you’d told him, squinting at the artificial grin that didn’t leave his face. You guessed that conversation was difficult to come by in prison. It was a pity that he was an evil mastermind. His ability to fake friendliness rivaled the most talented US agents.

“How new?”

“A few weeks before you.”

His eyes twinkled at your commonality. They bore into yours, trying to decipher what you know of what he'd done. This look was how you knew the stories of his genius, were true. They scanned and shifted, guessing that you knew it all with one look. He was right, of course, and you thought that would be the end of it. Then, he surprised you. He asked about your family, schooling, job, passions, and interests. He spoke about the books he’d had in prison, and you teased him for even reading The Prince.

He smiled wider and wider as you spoke until Sam shot you a glare and you gave the Baron some excuse about sleep. But even when you closed your eyes, and curled up into the seat, you’d felt his eyes remain on your face.

Warm hands against your neck brought you out of the trance and back to the man who you should hate.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, watching his somber expression in the reflection.

“The sigil is — was, my family’s,” he stated, coming around to face you and fiddle with the charm. “You are playing the part of a baroness, after all. We need to make it believable.”

His lips curled into a soft smile at the royal word. A chill ran down your spine. Even though your conversation had been short, you hadn’t meant to enjoy it so much. Conversation was like pulling teeth with most of the people you knew, especially Sam and Bucky. And even when it came, it didn’t flow like this.

“There are worse roles,” you mused, shooting him a soft smile in return. “I could have to play the part of the mind-controlled assassin, or worse, the evil baron.”

He smirked. “Strenuous, yes. I have found that there is nothing more difficult to be, than yourself.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You find it easy, to be yourself?”

“No, I don’t think that you are what you want us to believe.”

The words seemed to catch him off guard and you wondered the last person to show him any kindness was. Not that your words were kind.

Sam yelled some threat from the cabin about Zemo keeping his hands off of you, and you knew that your time was up. You ignored the pang of disappointment and looked up at the Baron's stone eyes.

“I am afraid that I will prove you wrong Y/N.”

You nodded and followed him out into the cold evening.

Low town was the target and as the four of you walked, the air was tense.

You nudged Bucky. “You ok?”

“Never better,” he sighed through gritted teeth.

A car appeared on the fluorescent bridge you were crossing as Zemo took his position next to you. Bucky stood on the other side of him, silent since you’d all marched out of the plane. You couldn't tell if it was memory that hardened his eyes or tonight’s assignment.

“You’re Bucky Barnes, born 1917,” you reminded the sullen soldier. “No more, no less.”

Zemo’s eyes squinted at your words, no doubt in disagreement but you avoided his gaze.

Bucky nodded and gave you a half-smile. It was as much as he could muster, especially when he had to become something he was trying so hard to forget. People have a way of finding their way back to themselves in time and you wondered how long he had left to go. The man who fought in WW2 was different from the man who fought against the Avengers. Both versions of him were different still from the man who'd turned silent in recent years.

“No matter what happens, we have to stay in character,” Zemo instructed as a car appeared on the bridge. “Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

You prepared yourself for the night ahead where you would look at the Baron with lust. It would feel strange to see him as something other than interesting and distrustful. Attraction to him was not far-fetched. He had a strong face and a sultry accent, but you stood on opposite sides of the moral spectrum in the end. Unfortunately, your realism in love hadn’t left you very open to romantic connections. From the little experience you had, it was clear that couples didn’t work if they didn't have a common goal. Yours was not the destruction of your friends and his was not to make the world a better place.

An arm snaked around your waist, cutting off the train of thought. You jumped and looked wide-eyed at Zemo.

“We are newlyweds, yes?”

His words sounded more like a question but a smile played on his lips. You nodded, unfamiliar with the feel of a confident man at your side.

“Right,” you confirmed, being the first one to break eye contact.

The car doors opened and you knew the driver was the first person to judge the performance. You let Zemo pull you towards the car and then hesitated as he walked to the passenger side. You glanced to the middle seat between Bucky and Sam in the back. Sensing your hesitation, Zemo pulled you close.

“Your performance has begun, Baroness Zemo.”

You smiled like he’d whispered a sweet nothing in your ear and drew close to return the favor.

“I’d keep my last name,” you breathed, earning a soft chuckle.

Despite the nerves, you let him pull you into his lap and tried your best to look lovesick. It wasn’t as difficult as you thought as his large hands held your waist, and one of your legs. He looked ahead, with a smug smile and ran small circles on your bare leg. The rush of goosebumps and the hitch of your breath gave you away within seconds. His smug smile turned devious in the reflection on the window.

“Das hast wunderschöne Augen.”

He whispered into the side of your head. You didn’t speak German, and even if you did, you doubted you'd want to hear something mundane or rude. Yet you could feel the hammering of your heart in each fingertip as he spoke in his native language.

A performance you reminded yourself. Two could play at whatever he was doing. You turned to glare at him before bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. The light scruff tickled your knuckles and you wondered what he’d look like with a beard. His brand of handsome wasn't rugged, even when he'd escaped the prison, he looked neat and clean. You rested your head against his shoulder and continued stroking his rounded cheeks. Being a few inches away from his face gave you a chance to study his features. It’d be good practice if you ever had to pick him out of a fleeing crowd, or a Madripoor police lineup.

Other powerful engines surrounded the car. Motorcycles with nosy drivers appeared in each window. He gripped your thigh harder, warning that the stakes were high, even here and it had to look real. A heat manifested between your legs, followed by a throbbing that you hoped he wouldn’t notice. It didn’t feel so much like an act anymore and in truth when ran your fingers through his hair, you did it out of desire. He sucked in a breath and gripped your waist like iron. The stern man didn't seem so impenetrable anymore, as your lips brushed his ear, following a sloppy pattern along his jaw. You ran your fingers through his hair roughly again and felt a slight gasp leave him. His eyes left the windows and found yours. Serious and challenging. His hand moved up towards the hem of your dress. The fabric put up less of a fight than you as he gripped your bare ass. He felt the heat then, releasing a noise from the back of his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed and your kissing became frantic. Your lips buzzed from the pressure and his five o’clock shadow. His lips parted in anticipation but before you could make it, the car stopped.

Zemo released you immediately, nodding an apology to the driver. Pity, you thought, it felt like you were finally making him a little nervous.

Sam and Bucky averted their eyes as the group walked through the streets, trying to look normal. Again, Zemo slung an arm around your waist. You took this as your cue to drape yourself on his shoulder. He stared ahead like this was a death march and that a guillotine stood on the other side of the door with his name on it. He’d been here before, you remembered. The memories couldn’t have been pleasant judging by the way his mouth pressed into a tense line. Empathy came over you and you reached out to slip a hand under his coat to rest on his chest.

This broke the trance and he stared at you for a moment before a smug smile crept across his stone-cold expression. It would've annoyed you but not a second later, he reached up to hold your fingers against him. He pressed you into his sweater, rubbing each finger in an anxious pattern, the only sign of nerves at all. Even the heartbeat beneath his sweater was still steady and calm.

Zemo led you all through a packed crowd to a dim bar. The agent part of you wanted to stray from your role and look around to assess the situation. But your mind went blank as his hand dropped to your hip and guided you up against the bar. You faced a mirrored wall holding more extravagant bottles than you’d ever seen in your life.

Through the reflection, you watched Zemo claim ownership of his Baroness. Each of his hands gripped the railing on either side of you, pressing his chest into your exposed back. His large stature towered over you, but your eyes couldn't tear away from his hands. Their grip around the rounded corners was mesmerizing. In a flash, your brain conjured the image of him holding your legs apart with the same strength. You let out a shaking breath. The fur from his coat tickled your back, and you couldn't focus on his words to Sam as his breath hit your neck.

Disgruntled with the lack of vantage point, you turned in his arms, bringing your face a few inches from his. Intent on taking in the room, you rested your chin on his shoulder. People had noticed your group right away and hadn't stopped looking. You kept eye contact with some, all while kissing the Baron's neck. Only then, did you feel his heart rate quicken.

Zemo spoke to the bartender behind you, but you didn’t hear them. Again, he tested your boundaries by caressing your thigh underneath your short dress.

Newlyweds, you reminded yourself. Very horny, newlyweds.

Mesmerized by the raunchy crowd behind you, and the soft caress of his hand, you gave in again. You peppered wet kisses of longing against his jaw as he spoke to a man who’d come up on the other side of him. He swallowed hard but somehow, you doubted it was out of fear of the man that Bucky had in a chokehold a few moments later.

That was the last moment you remembered feeling calm that night. The moments after put your mission and lives in jeopardy. When the violence and fleeing had played out you'd realized that his hands had never left you. The safety of his grasp was far more dangerous than Madripoor. The feeling of relief when he’d found your waist again at Sharon’s party, had you kicking yourself.

“A very believable performance, Agent Y/N” he purred. “Well done.”

You smiled and glanced down at the few inches between the two of you. Drinking was not the best option tonight but it was too late. Vodka was already coursing through your veins.

“I’d call it compelling,” you smirked. “Not believable.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you with curiosity and something else. Something ferocious that made you wonder why he didn’t have an army of devotees or a cult following. It was that look that made you question your willpower, for the first time ever.

“Why’s that?”

Exactly the question you’d been hoping for. He’d had the upper hand all night but that was going to change.

“Who would believe that I would actually fall for you,” you teased, tossing back the last of your drink.

That would’ve been the end of it for a lesser man but Zemo smiled, showing all his teeth. He was always intrigued by a challenge.

“Tell me, Y/N, who would you fall for?”

Your mouth went dry and although a smirk was still plastered to your lips, nerves rushed back in.

“As if I have time,” you laughed.

He returned the smile. “Gun to your head, then.”

The alcohol in your system whispered different answers. Irresponsible answers. Bringing them to fruition would give you more than you bargained for but you fought against them.

“I like nice men,” you whispered, watching his reaction. “Who don’t use animals for fashion.”

He chuckled and then a dark look passed over his face before he closed the gap between you. A step backward and you found yourself against a wall with nowhere to go. Zemo brought a hand to your neck, caressing the exposed skin and the chain resting there.

“Who says I am not a nice man?”

Now it was your turn to chuckle. “Your body count, history, profession…reputation.”

He nodded. “Ah, you mistake ambition and purpose for — cruelty.”

“I never said you were cruel. I know you don’t crave suffering. I know there was a reason…for what you did.”

He cocked his head again and pursed his lips, looking at you like a puzzle; something not yet solved.

The techno beat dissolved into a slower, bass-heavy, R&B song. The hand on your neck made its way down to your waist once again, pulling you in. You complied without a fight, letting the Baron lead you through a slow dance.

“Even I can be gentle,” he said after a while. “For you — I would even consider being sweet.”

The words sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every inch. He was a master of manipulation and a conniving son of a bitch who wanted your colleagues — friends, dead. And yet, your mind and body betrayed you. You squeezed him a little tighter and pulled in a little closer.

“And what about the fur coat,” you whispered, playing with the fuzzy material against his neck.

He surprised you with his laughter. He threw his head back in a genuine laugh and leaned into your neck to stifle the giggles.

“I have been in a prison jumpsuit for the last eight years, forgive me for my outdated fashion,” he cooed. You could feel the smirk against your skin.

“Is it real,” you asked, holding up the stupid furry flap.

“Of course. I am a Baron,” he responded, pulling you closer, staring at your lips.

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